#inktober52, #inktober, "Robot"

Bill Mumy used to buzz past my house very regularly in a very beat up VW bug.  He honked, he waved, I smiled and waved back.  My sister growled and slammed doors.  I thought Bill was romantic and determined.  Sis thought he was a long-haired, gangly, teenaged pest.  Oh well, teenagers do what teenagers do and apparently Bill and Sis weren't meant for a happily ever after together.  He got married in 1986 so I'm pretty sure he got over his unrequited love, or maybe it was just teenaged lust.  It's just one of those episodes of childhood that invariably makes me laugh.  I'm pretty sure Sis still gets irritated at the thought of it.

Years before this teenaged stalking, Sis sat on the floor with me in front of the TV and happily watched Bill as Will in "Lost in Space".  It was an admittedly lame show that was cheaply produced and inexplicably entertaining.  There was friendly robot who exclaimed, "Warning, warning, Will Robinson!" before they were attacked by aliens and everything got resolved in 20 minutes or so.  Wasn't even bad TV better when we were kids?

I think about today's robots taking away people's jobs and all the current uncertainties and think I could spend the day watching Lost in Space on youtube.  I'm not sure this is the best use of my life, but it would be a pleasant diversion since nobody has asked me to a Memorial Day picnic, not that I would go this year even if I were invited.  Whatever you're doing this year, please do it safely.

I've moved on from my ditch digging and started attacking my house.  I sat back in my easy chair and noticed the ceiling looked kind of dingy.  I spent a day washing it.  It's sparkly white again and I'm sore again.  I sat back in my easy chair and noticed piles of projects that never got finished (or started).  I moved my project materials to their proper homes.  On and on and I'm not finished thinking about other labor-intensive things I could do.  I think I'm just taking out my frustrations on my surroundings, but also getting some exercise.  Things look better so I feel better.

I'm never going to go full Marie Kondo or anything, but I have been asking myself why I have so much stuff.  I listened to a radio program this week which posed the questions, "Are you holding onto things because you're holding onto your past?  Are you ready to make space for new things to come into your life?"  Hmm...  I think I'm ready for something new.  Clearing space sounds like an excellent idea.  Maybe I'll paint the living room walls too.  On and on and on, there's no end to the stuff I could do.

Of course we haul our past around with us whether or not we keep reminders of it.  The only thing it took for me to remember Bill Mumy buzzing by my house was the word "Robot".  I don't need to keep every gift I received from every person I've cared about to remember them.  I used to, even gifts I wasn't all that crazy about in the first place.  It felt disloyal to throw them away.  I've gotten over that.  Mostly?

Anyway, I've got to get back to my projects.  Now that the ceiling looks great I've noticed the windows need washed.

Bill was adorable, wasn't he?  He kind of looked like Sis' son.
Maybe she should've returned his affections :)

#Inktober52, #Inktober, "Bubbles"

I was hiking around to endless historical monuments on a hot, sunny day with a friend when I said, "I need to stop for a pop" as we walked by a convenience store.  My friend burst into merry laughter.  My face rearranged itself into absolute befuddlement.  I didn't see anything funny in my declaration.  I was hot and thirsty.  My friend didn't have the faintest idea what I was talking about.  "A Pepsi, Coke, something like that", I clarified, shaking my head at the obvious.  "Oh!  A soda!"  In my mind, a soda is something from the 1950's when teenyboppers went to the soda shop for a malt, but okay.  I realize more of you out there say soda than pop, but you have to admit pop is a better word when you open the bottle.

Someone else recently reminisced with me about going to her grandparents and getting pop from the basement.  "Me too!"  Happy grandparent stories flowed back and forth and I vividly tasted Vernor's ginger ale even though I haven't tasted it in years.  It's amazing how these things stay with us, and how much little things matter down the road when it didn't seem to make that much difference at the time.  We just had practical grandparents who put soda pop in the basement because the basement was cool and brought it upstairs when the grandkids were there because they loved us.  It's these little moments that made us feel special and secure.

The other day I contemplated what to have for supper.  I seem to have gotten very vegetarian during the shutdown and I have to say I'm sick and tired of vegetables.  I flashed back to dinner at Grandma's and wished so strongly for one of her basic meals of ham, mashed potatoes, and green beans.  I wanted it so badly I could smell the ham and hear her putting a spoon down on her stainless steel kitchen counter.  I thought of Grandpa and his perennial assortment of Chex cereal and ever-present vanilla ice milk.  Tinkling dishes, cheerful laughter, and ice tea.  Vernor's pop, full of sugar and bubbles, in the middle of the day, for no real reason other than my grandparents knew I liked it.

I saw a post where a 10-year-old girl created a door screen out of a shower curtain and plastic bags so she could hug her grandma during the shutdown.  Yay for the kid!  But gee, it sucks to be separated from your grandma!  Maybe all this separation will prove to teach more of us to appreciate people while we have them?

Happy memories keep us warm inside when faced with too many vegetables, but it isn't all about looking back.  It's about thinking about your priorities and making decisions about what you want now and in the future.  Our thoughts create possibilities.

Thinking about drinking a bubbly pop on a hot summer day may not seem important at all.  Remembering merry laughter between friends is important.  It isn't about things, it's about people.  I'm really hoping that everyone appreciates their people even more when they can hug each other again.

This art is just a TV doodle around the time I was salivating over Grandma's ham :)

#Inktober52, #Inktober, "Praying Mantis"

I was about 8 or 10 the first time I saw a praying mantis.  Who could've thought bugs could get so big?!  I ran inside to confer with Dad and showed him the insect monstrosity in the entomology book.  I was disappointed Dad already knew all about them.  We moved the mantis to a place it wouldn't be run over by the lawn mower and that was pretty much it.  I don't have a good story for this week's prompt.  I don't even have a good drawing.  I did this little sketch, thought to myself it looks like an alien, and decided that's good enough.  I have another project I want to work on.

Sometimes life is like that.  In the past, I often spent more time on what other people might want me to do instead of what I wanted to do.  I'm pretty sure nobody really cares if I spend a day creating a better mantis.  The painting I'm working on will make me happier and will have a much longer shelf life.

I've been fighting with myself about living life in balance lately.  I listen to too much news, get upset about politicians' stupid decisions, and don't focus on my own priorities while all this social distancing is providing plenty of opportunity to paint and think about better things.  Hence, I'm going to paint today.  I hope you find something to do that makes you happy today too.

Volunteering at the food giveaway makes me happy, and it gives me insight into people's attitudes towards Covid-19.  I'm less happy about the current attitudes.  Everyone wore a face mask in April.  This week, very few had on masks.  People apparently believe the worst is behind us and we don't have to worry about the disease since the state is opening up businesses even though the numbers in Ohio are going up.  We're less safe now than we were in April.  Wear your mask.  Social distance.  Be smart, stay safe, stay healthy.

In ditch digging news, I went out to the back 80 last Sunday and hit the ceiling when I saw the landscapers who take care of the property behind me dumped a huge pile of weeds and dirt in my ditch, effectively blocking the water flow.  I had already sent a nice letter to the owner of that property to get the landscaper under control.  I didn't receive a response.  I chastised the guy driving the lawn mower around.  I talked to the owner on the phone this week and am pretty sure this recurring landscaper problem may finally be addressed.

I walked back there to check my drainage process another day and felt stunned.  There was no water at all in the ditch.  Wet mud.  It took me a while to actually comprehend I had succeeded in ditch digging.  I felt waves of joy surrounding me.  I'm pretty sure Lake Erie is flooding Canada from all the water I've drained into it.  In more realistic terms, the ditch was about 2 feet of water in it when I started, with plenty of standing water in the yards.  I'll continue to demolish ditch obstacles through the summer, but all that is window dressing.  My ditch works!

My next project is cleaning up my neighbor's yard.  He's old and can't do it and the younger guy who helps out is stretched too thin.  I don't want to come off as all holy or anything about this.  I'll be happier to see the yard cleaned up but mostly I've been happy with my ditch digging exercise.  I'm not disciplined about regular exercise but I can be very diligent with projects.  It's a win/win for everybody :)

#inktober52, "Train"

I used to go to a meditation group once a week.  Our leader turned down the lights and in her soothing voice told us to imagine a beautiful field of wildflowers.  I internally griped, "Why is it always a meadow?", but I complied.  I imagined pretty flowers.  Eventually, we progressed out of the meadow and my grouchy thoughts of sunburn and I found a calm in myself.  I suppose my grouchiness and fears of sunburn were a metaphor for the crap I carried in my head most days.  I got a lot of positives from meditating and our group became good friends.

The place we met was right next to train tracks.  We all giggled the first time a train went by during our meditation and rattled the windows.  Our patient leader gently suggested we could put all our problems on the train and listen to those problems being carried away.  This happened many times.  I dutifully put my cares on the trains.  I can't see or hear a train anymore without smiling and feeling my blood pressure drop.

Meditation comes in many forms.  What I've described above is a guided meditation.  Sometimes I sit at the river and watch the water go by until I find inner peace.  Art and ditch digging can be meditations.  Sometimes I just pay attention to my breathing (which is probably healthy for everyone in Covid-19 days).  Some people focus on thinking of nothing (something I find absolutely impossible).  Some people do yoga or walk.  Whatever works.  I don't think there's one right way to go about it.

For myself, I start out by checking in with myself.  How stressed am I in the moment?  I give myself a numerical grade.  A good day is a 10 or less.  Often, my score is 5,000.  I start counting backwards, sometimes jumping down 100 points at a time until I can feel the stress leaving my body and my breath evening out.  I notice places where I'm sore or tight and concentrate on relaxing those areas.

I often think of meditation as an awake dream.  I get myself relaxed enough to see where my brain will go.  Like a night dream, answers to issues can be seen through a different light.  Sometimes the answers are so obvious I wonder why I didn't see them in the first place, but I doubt I'm the only one who tells myself what I'm feeling instead of actually feeling my feelings.

For example, I go about my day and think about the things I'm doing.  Everything's fine, so why do I feel so stressed?  After calming myself I can see that I'm worried about the state of the world and individuals I care about.  In my regular thoughts, I tell myself I can't do anything about those things so quit thinking about them.  In my meditative mind, I honor these feelings.  It isn't an issue of fixing situations, it's finding my place in them.  Maybe I can't help someone with health issues or a drug problem, but I can go to my food giveaway and feed other drug addicts and elderly people.  I feel good to do that.  Those are people who want the help.  I feel more peaceful which is better for everybody because being wound like a spring about problems I can't solve just makes me testy to be around.

Yes, I have shown you this train before, but having had to paint it twice for this painting it only seems fair to post it twice.  You can see the whole painting here.  I've done more Barbie paintings but haven't seen any appropriate words to show them off yet.

I can hear trains at my house.  They're carrying away my problems.  How do you meditate?

"Dice 2"

My mom insists you catch cold if you go outside in winter with wet hair.  This isn't how viruses work but she's immovable on this.  Maybe Mom caught a cold as a child, or maybe Grandma said it.  It doesn't matter.  If Mom wants to dry her hair she can dry it.  It doesn't hurt anybody.  Drinking bleach to kill Covid-19 can hurt someone though.  Don't do it.  Let's severely punish the person who started that rumor.  Damned crazy people.

I went to the store and watched the Asian woman in front of me pile a large quantity and  variety of disinfectants and bleach on the conveyor belt.  I wondered if she's paranoid or if her Asian relatives told her something I don't know.  I went home, put away the groceries, and washed my hands.  That seemed sufficient to me?

I don't know how paranoid I should feel about the corona virus.  I'm pretty dismissive of mass panic and media scares.  It's like weather people who always predict blizzards and catastrophes.  They cry wolf too often, but once in a while it snows when they say it will.  Maybe Covid-19 is a disaster?  But mostly I think predicted blizzards will be an 1" of snow.  You might skid and get in an accident, but it's more likely you won't.  You might catch the virus and feel crappy for a few days and go about your life.  You might die.  We all might be put under house arrest until the whole business dies down.  It could be the apocalypse.  How are we supposed to know?

That said, we're going to have a national and global emergency.  They're closing all the bars and restaurants in Ohio.  Young people are going to starve to death because they don't know how to cook.  Restaurants will go out of business and their workers are going to be in a bad financial situation.  Workers and businesses won't be paying taxes.  Farmers won't be able to sell their food.  Truckers won't be driving all that stuff around.  Multiply by all the other businesses effected.  The stock market goes up and down because nobody knows what's going to happen.  The government spends more to help people, but with fewer taxes the national debt will go up.  People's retirement savings will be wiped out.  More government help, more debt.  Keep multiplying.  It's a mess.

Something I don't hear anyone talking about though is how this all fits in with climate change.  Animals are moving because of the warming weather.  This animal talks to that one and they share their diseases in new and frightening ways.  People eat the animals and catch their diseases then hand them off to others who travel and spread the diseases all over the world.  Antibiotics aren't working on everything, partly because of their overuse and the oversanitation of everything.  We're going to have more pandemics.

Let's be sensible.  Us regular people can't solve all those problems.  We can considerately cover our mouths when we cough or sneeze.  We can avoid going to high-risk places and stay home when sick.  Eat right and exercise.  Smear lamb's blood on the door so the angel of death passes us by.  I'm obviously kidding on that last point.  Lamb blood probably contains Covid-20.

How do you feel about this pandemic?  Have you changed what you're doing or how you're doing it?  Do you know anyone who has gotten it?

I said last week my only other "dice" idea was chopping up celery.  Since everyone will be spending more time at home, and maybe getting sick, let me recommend making chicken soup.  Here's how to dice celery.  You can freeze it in a freezer baggie for later.  Squish out any air in the bag and freeze flat for easier use...

Remove bad spots and trim off dried ends

Slice lengthwise.  I like to keep one end intact for easier handling

Slice across stalks to dice.  Keep the tops.  They're tender and taste good.

"Dice"

I had to take "Color Concept" in college.  This was a mandatory, multi-year course on color theory designed by the college president.  It was incomprehensible.  To this day I have no idea what I was supposed to be learning other than humility since my roommate got consistent As in the course and even went back to the college to teach it.  I also learned Color-Aid sheets of color were persnickety sources of obscenities since they chipped easily when I cut them into 1" squares and they were permanently marred by rubber cement.  At least I didn't set myself on fire doing Color Concept homework like one of my classmates when her propane heater set her messy hands alight.  She survived, but I bet her pain made her hate the course even more than I did.  At least she got out of doing Color Concept homework while her injured paws healed after a midnight trip to the hospital.

I complained about all this to other classmates as we took a break from our never-ending homework.  My pals waxed enthusiastic about Color Concept.  One even brought out a color theory book he'd been studying in his own time.  The conversation devolved from there, definitely not helped by drinking heavily while they talked about stuff I couldn't wrap my mind around.  Yeah, I learned humility, but it still seems to me some people try to mystify others with their brilliance by spreading an impenetrable order on things.  Or maybe I just have a blind spot on the science of the subject?

That said, there are certain usual rules about color I do understand.  Red and green are opposites on the color wheel and stands for Christmas.  Two adjacent colors are often contrasted with their opposing color.  On and on and on.  If you paint a purple iris with green leaves, well, nature naturally gives us nice combinations.  Yellow and black wasps scream a warning about their stingers.  I think we all intuitively get the obvious rules.

Novice artists are often afraid of color (though some embrace it from the start).  Many doodle and sketch in pencil or pen to develop skills.  When they start dabbling in color they often dislike the messiness of it all.  They're timid in their approach.  They can make some unpleasant choices.  Push on!  Keep trying!  It will eventually start coming together, whether or not you take expensive and incomprehensible college courses on color theory.

Computers make a lot of this kind of thing so much easier these days.  Create something, change your mind, try different combinations.  Roll the dice and see what happens.  Yeah, that's a stretch for "dice", but contemplating dice made me think of color charts.  Hey, don't stifle my creativity!  It was this or chopping celery :)

"Princess"

I've been playing with Barbies lately.  I know, it doesn't seem like me.  Maybe it's time to get in touch with my inner child and move past my disdain for dolls?  Well, I'm not actually playing with dolls.  I'm just painting 2-D Barbies, and the more I paint them, the more ideas I have for them.  Maybe this is the point of play?

I recently started a painting (not this one), knowing that most of an object I labored over creating was going to eventually be painted over with something else.  This was an irritating decision, but I decided it's unavoidable.  Enjoy the process.  Experiment.  Be curious.  See where things go.  If it turns out badly, paint over it.  Talk to Barbie.

You can't learn anything new if you insist you already know everything or if you're afraid to try.  If every painting is a masterpiece, it devalues the path to your actual achievements.  Be willing to fail.  Learn.  Grow.

Barbie is a lot like fairy tale princesses.  Pretty and special with her handsome Ken.  She has an endless happily ever after where nobody gets sick or old.  Being a princess isn't all it's cracked up to be if Meghan Markle is any indication though.  Good for her for deciding what she wants her life to be, and good for her to pick a husband who supports her choices.  Live long and prosper.

I think a lot of us are invested in the princess fantasy.  Having a foot small enough for a glass slipper can get you out of scrubbing floors forever.  Who wouldn't want that?  Sounds great.  I hate washing floors.  It's too bad I have average sized feet and I've never met a handsome prince who wants to measure them.

Fantasy is a plus and a minus.  Creativity leads to many wonderful things.  If we can dream of something, we can work towards making it a reality.  If we get mired in our dreams without doing anything, we live in poverty with dirty floors.  We marry the guy who turns into a beast instead of turning into Prince Charming.  We whine it's unfair we weren't born princesses.

Play is important.  Kids have to play to learn.  The more fun the learning, the more they learn.  Who decides when a kid is too old for that kind of thing?  Probably somebody who wants the kid to be quiet or live out the aspirations of the person banning the playing.  Evil step-mothers who envy youth and beauty aren't the only ones who squash the joy in kids.  Sometimes even the best intentioned people take away others' joy because that's the way they think it has to be.  Give those people Barbies.

I've been keeping my thoughts to myself lately because I've been bouncing between outrage and depression as I watch the destruction of democracy in the US amidst others' apathy and misinformation.  It didn't seem very useful to spread those kinds of feeling around.  I've been reading in Robin Hobbs' books instead, in other words, escaping into fantasy.  Kings, queens, princes, and princesses -- they're all great if they're fictional in a fictional world and all the blood is red paint.  Maybe I should paint a Farseer assassin Barbie?

"Trial"

A wise woman once told me, "The law doesn't guarantee justice; it gives you a chance for justice."  I was young, angry, and idealistic then.  I didn't just want justice, I needed it.  I didn't get it.  Others with more power, influence, and money won despite a boxful of documented proof and a signed confession.  I'll admit to some lasting bitterness.

My wise friend was right.  We only get a chance for justice.  That doesn't mean we'll get it.  OJ Simpson got off.  Kobe Bryant was hailed as a fallen hero this week despite admitting his behavior was nonconsensual when a teenager accused him of a violent rape.  Kobe paid her off like so many other powerful men paid their rape victims to keep them silent.  The reporter who dared mention this after his sudden death was suspended.

So, even while hope springs eternal, I have a jaded view of 45's current trial in the US Senate.  Everyone knows he's guilty.  He's admitted it, his chief of staff admitted it, on and on and on.  It takes a 2/3 majority to convict and it's a foregone conclusion the Republican senators will let him off.  Too many Americans don't know the facts and don't care to learn them.  I'm afraid this criminal will not only get acquitted, but get reelected and/or tank the economy and/or get us into more wars, not to mention setting a legal standard which destroys the principles upon which the US was founded.

I've been through this before.  As a child, I watched the Watergate hearings.  Guilty, guilty, guilty -- yet the Republicans defended the indefensible.  I couldn't believe they supported criminal behavior.  When Nixon resigned, I was elated to see some sort of justice.  When Ford pardoned him, I felt betrayed.  Reagan and Bush got off on the Iran-Contra proceedings.  Clinton got off for his actions with his intern.  Let's face it, perps get off all the time, and the more money and power they've got, the more likely they'll get off even if everyone knows they're guilty.  I feel like going to DC and yelling "For shame!" at all of them.

A pal and I bashed the Washington idiots over lunch this week.  My friend had worked up a head of steam when our pretty, young waitress showed up with our bill.  I said, "If you agree with us about the trial it'll be good for your tip!"  She looked surprised and I felt a little abashed for putting her on the spot -- then she launched into an impassioned, impromptu speech about how no young person could support the president, no woman should support him.  Her hand on her heart, she didn't bother to lower her voice as she poured out her feelings in an educated lecture of the state of things.

She looked like a heroine from another era.  Get that girl a soapbox!  Let's take her on tour!  She is everything good and wonderful and she did my heart a lot of good.  She gives me hope for the future no matter how messed up the current state of things might be.  (She got a healthy tip too.)

So yeah, hope springs eternal even while I expect to be angry and disappointed by the Senate trial.  This too shall pass, yet this disappointment is motivating people.  I have hope that the current Senate cowards will be replaced in November.  Maybe we'll get another trial next year with a more just outcome?

"Selling Art (or anything else)"

I met a fellow painter not so long ago.  She wants to sell more art.  Yeah, we all want that.  She thinks the answer is Instagram.  Okay.  Do that then.  She did, but her art didn't sell even though her art is good enough to be marketable.  I got to know this woman a bit more and recognized she lacks empathy.  The only thing she cares about her customers is that they give her money for painting whatever she wants to paint.  She talks non-stop about herself.  She's taxing to be around so I quit talking with her.  I'm pretty sure her customers feel the same way and don't like being treated like ATMs.

Art is a collaboration between the artist and the viewer.  If you want money from someone (in any field), you have to give them something they want in return.  You need to be empathetic to what their wants might be, not just to manipulate them into one-time purchases, but to honestly care about what they want to build relationships.

Maybe they want cat art because they like cats.  Maybe they want to feel like they're part of the creative process and their support is a contribution that makes them feel good about themselves.  Maybe they want to be friends with the artist.  There are loads of reasons for people to buy art that doesn't have anything to do with what's on the canvas.  We need to figure out what customers are actually seeking and match efforts to the buyer.  If you create only to suit yourself, then don't be surprised nobody is buying it.

I've been having art flashbacks since visiting the National Gallery in Washington, marveling at the technical skills of the masters, but also trying to define the magic they captured.  In contrast, I've thought about people online.  Most show the world their ideal selves, not the sweat pants torn t-shirt version of themselves eating ice cream.  Some people relentlessly put all their insecurities and vulnerabilities out there.  It's too much either way.  I've got my own problems.  Don't dump your perfection or garbage on me.  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy when other people are happy.  I'm sad when others live hard times. It's just that there has to be some balance and honesty in our relationship.

Rembrandt was hugely successful and made tons of money when he was young.  He lost it all and died poor.  Somewhere in the course of his mistakes and tragedies he learned humility.  His honesty comes across in his later work.  His self portrait is vulnerable.  He was certainly capable of painting himself in Photoshopped Facebook perfection, but he painted himself with flaws.  My heart aches for him across the centuries.

Rembrandt is speaking to his viewers.  He trusted them with his truth because he had the empathy to know others wanted to see that honesty.  That takes bravery, and I think all the masters share that kind of trust and courage.  I think we're missing that today, or maybe it was rare even in Rembrandt's day?

Many people can learn to paint well (or write, program, or whatever).  Technical mastery is a skill.  Put in enough time and effort and you'll master just about anything you aim to do.  Getting someone else to care about your mastery requires more.  You have to have the courage to let people see your flaws for them to actually care about you and what you do.  Relationships and money follow truth.

The above art is from my current painting.  I'll admit it was an itchy, difficult effort to paint a negative.  I took a photo and reversed it to see how well I'd done it.  I'm rather pleased at the results considering the faces are only 1/2" high on rough canvas, and I'm also pleased at the imperfections since it's of my wedding photo.  My ex looks like a zombie and that seems appropriate.  I've made mistakes.  I kind of like seeing that reflected in the art :)

"Red Panda"

I was only dimly aware red pandas exist before IF inspired me to look them up.  Now I know they look kind of like raccoons and Wikipedia says there are fewer than 10,000 of them in the Eastern Himalayas and South Western China due to habitat loss and fragmentation, poaching, and inbreeding.  Sad pandas.

I don't know what I can do for them.  The extinction of plants and animals around the world worries me, and I hope somebody can save them, but it is just too big an issue for me to handle.  I suspect most of us feel this way.  Maybe we donate to a charity and then just go about our lives.  There's probably something I should start or stop doing to save the pandas, but I don't know what it is.

Ignoring problems or getting depressed about them don't solve those issues.  What can we do?

I read about the decline of Monarch Butterflies.  Around 1 billion of them have disappeared since 1990.  I like butterflies.  They're pretty.  They pollinate things.  They eat milkweed.  I'll plant some milkweed.  This may not solve the larger issues of big agriculture's chemical use, but it's at least something within my abilities.  One positive action off my to do list.

The point is to do something, anything that helps.  I have a little landscape pond in my back yard for the wildlife.  I enjoy watching the song birds splashing around in it.  I keep goldfish in it to eat bugs.  More people need to have ponds and bird baths because the birds need water.

I don't use chemicals in my yard.  It only makes sense to me that a product designed to kill one thing will probably kill more than the intended targets and isn't healthy for anyone.  Other people's lawn chemicals get washed off and leak into the water supply which poisons all of us, including the plants and animals.

I compost.  Healthier soil makes healthier plants which are stronger in their fight against the things that attack them.  Healthier plants also make for healthier animals.  I've shown you how glossy and healthy my groundhogs are.

I take my own bags to the store.  There's no reason for me to get plastic bags every time I shop.  I try to avoid buying plastic or things packaged in it.  After I wash clothes, I hang them up to dry instead of running the dryer.  I wash my dishes by hand because it takes less hot water (and I don't have a family to clean up after).  I use cruise control on the freeway (mostly to stop myself from speeding too much, but it takes less energy too).  I turn off lights and use energy-efficient bulbs (except for where I read).  I recycle.

There are a lot of ways we can help the planet.  I welcome your suggestions.  Let's do what we can to live in a world with butterflies and pandas.

"Technology"

Hey, whaddaya know!  IF finally gave us "technology" for a new word and I just painted a computer mouse.  It's a sign 2020 is going to be an excellent blogging year, right?  Right?  Hope springs eternal.

Every January I look at my previous year of blog posts to remind myself of life's journey.  I've felt like I was very internally focused in 2019 but looking through my posts I did a lot of people things.  Volunteering at the food giveaway has been interesting.  I've been repeatedly annoyed IF forgets to give us new words on Fridays.  I worried about 45 starting a war with Iran last summer.  I participated in Inktober and took some trips.

My dog died last fall.  I still "see" her all the time, and I'm not ready for a new pup -- but I keep thinking about one.  Every time I see a dog I think about the breed's pros and cons.  I'm leaning towards finding a beagle mutt, maybe in the spring.  I'm not looking forward to house breaking, puppy feet on art projects, or furniture chewing.  I'm certain I've mentioned how much I like old dogs who understand how to share a peaceful coexistence.  Bro2 says my new dog will find me when we're both ready.  We'll see, and see what else happens this year.

I'm not much for New Year's resolutions, but I have some goals for the year.  I feel kind of superstitious talking about them like revealing your wish when blowing out the birthday candles.  Hopefully, good things will happen without too many bad things to balance the scales.  I tried to cut back on my caffeine and immediately abandoned that when I got a screaming headache.

I usually try to avoid talking about politics on this blog, but I don't know how successful I'll be at that this year.  The US presidential election will happen in November.  The current president is impeached and his trial in the Senate will probably happen soon.  How am I supposed to be quiet about that?  If he starts a war with Iran I'm pretty sure I'll have to say my piece about it.

It's January in Ohio and my neighbor's magnolia tree is budding.  I have my window open because it's 60F degrees outside.  In other words, I'm pretty sure I'll be thinking about climate change this year.  That's nothing new.  I've been thinking about the environment since I was a child and the Cuyahoga River caught fire, spawning Earth Day and motivating Nixon to create the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA).  To this end, here's a video about the toll fashion takes out on the world by comedian Hasan Minhaj.  Currently, I extend my deepest sympathies to Australians and scorched koala bears.

The mouse above is from my latest painting.  I wasn't happy with the painting, but I didn't want to toss it out or repaint parts of it.  I finally came to terms with my artistic angst and revised the canvas.  I'm much happier.  I don't know why I fought myself so hard about it.  It took much more effort to fight myself about it than to actually make the revisions.  I'm still working on it, and will show you when it's finished, but I'm going to set it aside and work on something else for a while.

I hope 2020 is going great for you so far!

"Family 3"

I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday and miraculously lost 10 pounds eating cookies.  Now that I think of it, I didn't get a single cookie.  This seems like a serious oversight since I'm pretty sure fortune cookies don't count.

The view on the way into the National Gallery of Art

I went to Washington, DC to visit a friend.  I suggested going to the White House and protesting, but 45 Christmased in Florida and there didn't seem much point to making signs if he wasn't going to see them.  My friend and I went to the National Gallery of Art instead.  Great art.  I highly recommend going if you're ever in DC.  Even if you don't travel there, the museum has art lectures on youtube.  Look them up and learn stuff. 

I inquired where to find specific paintings I wanted to see and the nice lady made a point of telling me not to miss a little room with Vermeers in it.  I was distracted when she told me this and almost missed the significance of her recommendation.  I peeked around a corner and woo!  Vermeer!  Little gems that I really did need to see, and nobody else in the room to bother my intense examination of them.  Lovely.

David's Cupid and Psyche in Cleveland beats Napoleon any day!

I spent some happy time with Titian, Rubens, on and on and on.  My only disappointment was their only Jacques Louis David painting is of Napoleon.  I mean, it's really well painted, but who wants to look at Napoleon?  The Cleveland Museum of Art has Cupid and Psyche.  Cleveland wins!

The museum has a number of Rembrandts, but I'm kind of specific in my love of his work.  I was thrilled to see his self portrait.  Nothing I can show on the web can compare to standing in front of the reality.  Imagine my little heart going pitty pat at the texture and details.

Detail of Rembrandt's self portrait, but this doesn't do the original justice.
The paint is caked on and has a fabulous texture.

I don't think it's possible to fully appreciate the whole museum in one day so I'll have to go back sometime.  I got online to find these photos of paintings for this post and realize how many things I still need to see there.  It may take me a while to forget how much I hate driving in DC first though.  Once again, I got turned around and frantic driving on illogical freeways.  At one point I had to cross 4 lanes of traffic because they put the exit ramp on the left side.  Who does freeway planning?!!  I was busy hyperventilating after this driving feat and missed my next exit which led me in all sorts of other places I didn't want to go, and they charged me tolls for the privilege.

My friend had to work some of the days I visited so I worked on a new painting.  It was pleasant to have an art retreat for the holidays.  The image at the top is just a part of my latest piece.  I'm rethinking a big chunk of the rest of it and may end up painting over some of it.  I hate it when that happens, but it's my own fault for not starting with a better plan.

I hope you had a wonderful holiday doing what you like most with the people you like best.  Wishing everyone a happy, healthy, successful New Year!!!

"Family 2"

Someone asked me recently about my happiest Christmas.  I got an image of my brain as a Rolodex of memory index cards spinning around until it landed on a happy day of childhood at my grandparents' house.  We didn't usually go to their house for Christmas, but that year we did.  There was a lit up tree in the dining room decorated with fragile glass ornaments.  Some of the lights bubbled.  My cousins ran around and yelled as they played.  Aunts chatted in the kitchen.  Uncles chatted in the living room.  Dinner was perfect.  Everyone was happy.  I was happy.

One of the pleasures of going to Grandma's was after the meal was done.  Women whisked the dishes into the kitchen and men took the children to the nearby park where we burned off our excess energy and cookies.  In winter, the pond was frozen over and there was a hot fire going nearby.  People warmed their hands and laughed.  Sometimes we walked to the other end of the park with the big sledding hill where there was another big fire burning.  Up the hill, down the hill... repeat until bruised and exhausted.  Trudge our way back to Grandma's where the dishes were miraculously clean and put away.

We played cards and drank hot tea.  We had sandwiches made from leftovers and ate more cookies.  Grandma filled us all in on the extended family whom I probably never met, or maybe died 3 or 4 generations ago.  The patter of the conversation didn't matter much to me.  I just liked listening to the pleasantness of it with the tinkling of a metal spoon clinking as someone stirred sugar in their tea.  The creaking of Grandpa's oak rocking chair, his soft huh, huh chuckle when something struck him funny.  "Santa Got Run Over by a Reindeer" playing somewhere upstairs.

My wish is for every child to have a perfect holiday, whatever their religion.  I hope they are safe and loved and they feel a sense of belonging amongst the people around them.  I hope older people feel treasured by the younger generations.

Of course, I also know my happy wishes won't come true for everyone.  For some, the mashed potatoes might fly across the room or somebody pounds the table.  Some people are lonely because they don't have anyone around anymore.  For them, I wish a perfect memory of happiness that keeps them warm when things aren't like a perfect day at Grandma's.

It wasn't that my grandparents did anything so remarkable back then.  I got a small gift I don't remember anymore.  The food was great, but it wasn't gourmet fare.  It was probably a turkey, mashed potatoes, and green beans or something -- oh yeah, let's not forget the ever-present applesauce!  Pretty little dishes with pickles and olives and nuts and whatever else scattered around the table.  Talking about unknown relatives isn't exactly thrilling.  Playing cards is pretty cheap entertainment.  It's just that when all these things were combined it was magic.

Or, maybe the point of it was my own perspective?  Happiness isn't something someone can force on you.  We choose it.  Wherever you are, whoever you're with, whatever life gives you, I hope you find joy and happiness this holiday season!

"Family"

I was told I died.  You'd think I would've noticed that, but my friend told me he had it on good authority.  I guess I should've asked when and how, and maybe most especially, who came up with this?!  It reminds me when I was a teenager and told Mike had died.  I was with the distraught family when Mike walked in after a weekend of carousing.  He was concerned to see his mom crying.  He put his hand on her shoulder and asked, "Who died?".  Scared her to death herself!  Everybody had a good laugh.  Turned out Mike's wallet had been stolen and the thief had it when he totaled his car.  I guess it wasn't a good ending for the thief, but was a happy relief for Mike's family and me.

My premature death notice was one of those things when you learn the world is smaller than we notice most of the time.  A friend of mine mentioned an acquaintance's name.  "I know him!  I was best friends with his sister when we were in school!"  I happily gossiped and mentioned other classmates from days gone by.  I salivated at the memory of Dave's mom's homemade apple strudel.  My friend repeated some of these names to Dave and eventually passed on my greetings for me.  That's when Dave said I was dead.  Our mutual friend assured him I looked alive last week.  I poked myself and said I was pretty sure that was still true.  I feel ripped off I didn't get a glowing obituary in the paper and condolence cards, though I feel kind of sorry if anyone actually grieved over my premature death.

I might be more fussed about Dave's belief in my non-existence if I hadn't lived through that time when it happened to Mike.  I saw Mike a few years ago and I know a mistaken obit isn't a harbinger of something to come.  Maybe Dave got me mixed up with someone else?  Maybe my ex still spreads lies about me?  Whatever.  Maybe I should have lunch at Kleifeld's Restaurant in Willoughby where I always see someone I know from the old days to prove I'm still here and still trying to make the most out of the time I have on the planet.

Sometimes I'm happy to be included in a large family and the hometown community.  Sometimes it makes me want to scream.  Really, people -- gossip about someone else!  Oh, but didn't I gossip a bit about Dave and others to my friend?  Oops.  Well, yeah, but, you know, public service announcements or something, as I mutter to myself about hypocrisy and try to think up a good rationalization to excuse myself.  I don't spill all the dirt I know about people at any rate.  That's got to count for something, right?  Um, yeah.  Glass houses.

None of this seems apropos to the holiday, but it is the current gossip.  I thought it was funnier than my non-successful trip to the store in search of gifts.  I walked out with a $1 desk calendar for myself and nothing else.  I hate shopping.  I don't know how all the rest of you manage this every year.  I think I'll be taking my own advice from last week and bake some presents.

I'll take suggestions.  What are your favorite sweets to receive?

"Gift"

Dr. Phil says "Food isn't love", but he's wrong.  It can be.  Cooking for those you love is a loving gift.  I think back to Grandma and taste her applesauce even though I haven't had it for many years.  The apples came from Grandpa's apple tree in the back yard, a tree that bloomed in many colors every spring, and drooped with many colored apples every fall.  He took cuttings from heirloom trees when he took trips and grafted them on his tree when he got home.  We had applesauce so often when I was a kid I got sick of it.  What I wouldn't give to have a jar of Grandma's applesauce again!

$83 of groceries didn't look like very much food when I brought it home from my last shopping trip.  This made me think about those who spend a lot of their lives working for groceries and how many people count their pennies so they can buy holiday gifts.  Like my grandparents' applesauce, cooking doesn't have to be expensive. 

I bought a ham.  Ham is affordable and useful.  I'll make sandwiches and freeze extra slices for future sandwiches.  I'll cube the less pretty parts and use that meat and the ham bone for soup.  Into the freezer it all goes.  I'll melt the fat for lard which I'll later use as a flavor and grease in cooking other things and top my bowl of soup with cracklings.  Many future meals for $18.  Thank you pig.

Sometimes I'm aware I eat better and don't spend as much money as other people.  A young woman told me recently she'd like to be a vegetarian, but isn't, because she thinks vegetables are too expensive.  I gave her a confused look.  Buying ham is more expensive than carrots.  I seldom make lentil or pea soup, but I'll toss dried peas and lentils into other soups.  Lentils and peas are about $1 per bag.  Easy, cheap, good for us.  I pick herbs in the garden.  These are perennials, so free.  Grow them in pots if you don't have a yard.

Yeah, but cooking takes too much time!  Well, sorta, but I like chopping vegetables for soup.  It's my meditation.  You could use a food processor if it makes you happy.  I make big batches so I can freeze it in single serving bags for later because I don't feel like cooking every day.  I freeze them flat so they thaw out fast, then microwave them in a glass bowl for an easy, healthy supper.

I drink a lot of Red Rose tea, but they stopped putting little porcelain figurines in the box.  This made me ornery and gave me insight into early Americans dumping tea in the harbor when they were mad at King George.  I started looking around my yard for tea substitutes.  Well, I didn't give up all my tea, I was looking for things to lessen my tea dependence.  I picked clover blossoms and raspberry leaves.  I grew chamomile, mint, lemon balm, hibiscus, and lemon verbena.  My tea has gotten tastier and healthier, and I saved money.  I miss getting porcelain turtles though.  I'm hoping my protest will result in the reappearance of little figurines some day.

When I started volunteering at the food giveaway I hadn't thought about getting food from the gig.  It's just something I like to do.  This week, an old lady encouraged me to try persimmons.  I love them! (The old lady warned me they have to be very ripe or they'll pucker your mouth though).  I often take home defective, rejected produce and can it.  Canning takes time too, but I like canning.  It's like a science project in the kitchen and I get yummy fruit for dessert.  I gift jars of it to nice people too.

You don't have to cook all the time, but give it a shot.  Give the gift of home cooking to someone you love :)

"Brain 4"

Thanksgiving has happened so now America shops for Christmas.  Well, I don't, but it seems like everyone else does.  The economy depends on it.  It seems to me there has got to be better ways to base economies than just accumulating stuff.  I'm more inclined to give home cooked food.  People eat the cookies or whatever and they aren't burdened with more things to cram into their houses or landfills.

I recently lectured a couple of my friends about buying kids too much plastic.  I felt guilty afterwards as both friends are enthusiastic grandmas who want to spoil their grandchildren -- but maybe they are exactly the kinds of people I should lecture about plastic?

Think about it, we ship oil across the world to be turned into plastic in a third world country, or we buy oil from the Middle East with its problems, before shipping it to the third world country.  Making the plastic is a toxic mess that gets into the air and water, poisoning the underpaid workers and getting into the global environment.  Once the all-important plastic stuff is created, it's shipped back around the world where it will be used for a short time before it's thrown away.  This doesn't even factor in the excessive plastic packaging, or the trees that are cut down for all the Amazon shipping boxes, or the fact that there are oil spills and other mistakes that dump plastic in the oceans.

When I visit the homes of people with children, I'm amazed at the amount of stuff little kids have.  It's crazy.  The kids don't even play with all that stuff.  One family has a couple of T-ball stands in the back yard.  I watched the boys have a good time whacking plastic balls with plastic bats.  That's nice, except I drove home and thought about the old days.  T-ball was a wooden post nailed to a wooden X base.  The ball was leather stuffed with who knows what, rat fur as far as I know.  Renewable resources at any rate.  The kids learned to hit the ball, then they didn't need the T anymore.  The wood was used for something else or it returned to the Earth by rotting in the backyard, but the plastic T, bat, and ball exists forever and probably end us in a bird's stomach.

I know, I know, some of you adore Christmas shopping.  You love spoiling the kiddies.  I know nobody wants to be lectured.  At the same time, can I suggest that you buy more Earth-friendly gifts?  Cuddling a kid on the couch and reading a book together is good.  Every kid (and adult) loves cookies.  Maybe you could make a snuggly stuffed animal or blankie for them?  I'm not anti-gift, I'm just trying to stop people from giving their kids their weight in plastic every year.  Give them experiences and memories.  Take them to the zoo or make crafts together.

I did this Christmas art for the Mensa Bulletin's December issue.  It doesn't have much to do with "brain" other than encouraging people to use their brains a little differently when shopping.  Illustration Friday has forgotten the meaning of Friday in its name.  Oh well, if they don't follow the rules that frees me up to ignore the rules too, right?

I hope everyone has a happy, cookie filled, plastic-free holiday season!

"Brain 3"

I guess IF wants us to keep talking about brains since our leader neglects his duties of choosing new words.  I'm not sure I want to keep talking about this though.  As I said recently, "Sometimes I'm sick and tired of being in my own brain!"  The woman I was talking with gave me an incredulous look.  I asked, "Don't you ever get sick of your own thoughts?"  Nope.  She never did.  It was my turn to look incredulous.  I can't conceive of such a thing.

Another woman told me she's had a blissed out, happy life.  No problems at all.  Perfect family, perfect husband, perfect kids.  I was certain she was deluding herself, but our mutual friend told me that it's true.  None of her people has gotten sick or died, she's always had plenty of money, never been seriously emotionally or physically hurt, and has succeeded at whatever she wanted to achieve.  How is this possible?!  I want her life.

Except in my heart of hearts, I doubt I really want her life.  Well, it would be helpful to have some of her money.  Otherwise, maybe I'd rather live in my own irritating brain?

I've had more than my share of bad experiences.  Sometimes I give myself pity parties.  Sometimes I see the positives I got from those experiences.  I'm sure I'm more sympathetic, empathetic, and interesting because of the life I've had.  I'd like an easy life like that happy woman with the perfect world, but I'm not sure I'd want to trade my intangible benefits I've gotten from living through stuff.

Or, more realistically, I've already lived through those things.  I can't give them back without getting a lobotomy.  The choice is to find positives in what I have and to find gratitude for those positives.

I'm sad this week because Rand MacIvor died.  He was one of my first followers when I started this blog.  I know some of you met Rand this way too.  I don't know how he found me, and I was surprised anybody would want to read things I had to say.  He encouraged me when I needed it.  We happily bashed politics together.  He was often silly and we traded jokes and stories of working as commercial artists in the old days.  I looked forward to his messages.

I can be critical of the virtual world we live in.  Young people are glued to their phones and tweet and repost stuff that doesn't matter.  At the same time, I valued my virtual Canadian friend.  The web gives us the chance to meet people across the world.  I think this is especially wonderful for artists who work alone and spend too much time in their own heads, and in Rand's case, even more important when he couldn't do art himself anymore. He was failing for a long time so his passing wasn't a complete surprise, but I feel the loss.

So when I think of the woman with the perfect life who has never lost anyone special to her?  Well, that's nice for her.  At the same time, I'm glad I got to know Rand.  I'm willing to have today's sadness because it's a sign we actually connected in a meaningful way.  And to all my other blog buddies, I value you too.  Thank you!

"Brain 2"

I got a project this summer with a vague deadline of "Sometime before Christmas".  Great!  I even started the 4 paintings in the summer but I ran into an obstacle.  I needed to go back to a previous project and take photos so old and new paintings would go together.  But you know how it is.  There was always something better to do, more urgent projects, my growing resentment that these started paintings laid around my living room and nagged me to finish them

I procrastinated and started writing a blog post about motivation.  I saw the irony.  I abandoned the effort to motivate others and can happily report I finally finished the before Christmas paintings, but maybe some of the following points can help you motivate too.

1. Make yourself responsible.  For my project, I know I would've finished it sooner if I'd set a better deadline.  I could've told a friend about my procrastinating and requested a friendly nudge in a week.  Knowing myself, I'd get it done before my friend would have to nag me because that's only considerate.  I'd call and proclaim victory instead.  I could write a deadline on my calendar.  You may figure out a way that work better for you -- then do it.

2.  Show up and set a routine.  When I went to work every day I worked every day whether I felt like it or not.  Maybe I chatted with coworkers over a cup of tea first, but I'd buckle down at some point.  An object in motion stays in motion.  An object at rest stays at rest.  If you want to accomplish things, do something.  Even the masters had days when they were just grinding out the day's work.  The grind work pays off too.  You get better at it and it becomes less of an obstacle on future days.

3. Don't get ahead of yourself by thinking into the future or hoping for a masterpiece.  Every project starts by picking up a pencil, opening a file, or some other very easy action anyone can do.  In the case of my delayed project, I didn't want to work on it because I knew it would to take a lot of time to do.  I quit thinking about that and opened my reference photos.  I just did a bit of the task before me.  After that there was less to do and that was less intimidating.

I'm pretty sure all of us procrastinate from time to time.  The point is we need to find ways that help us do the things we want or have to do.  What do you tell yourself when you're dragging your heels on a project?  I'll be happy to learn more ways to kick myself in motion when I need it.

"Brain"

I managed more than 1/2 of the Inktober list which is more than I've managed previously so I'm counting it a victory.  Congrats to everyone who played!  Are we all more creative and disciplined now?

I always remember my great grandpa's advice, "To keep your brain you have to use your brain!".  His was working great even in his late 90s.  He learned new words from the dictionary, studied encyclopedias, read the Bible, and happily debated anyone who'd indulge him.  I adored him.  I snuggled against him, held his hand, and listened to anything he wanted to teach me.

I don't know if Great Grandpa was right about fighting senility.  Maybe?  Probably?  What I know for sure is there was a long period of my life where I wasn't very mentally challenged.  My friends talked a lot about diapers and school schedules.  I spent a lot of time focused on the bumper in front of me in my daily commute to work.  You know, all the basic stuff in life that doesn't really stretch us very much.  I had creative jobs, but even that's routine after a while.  I didn't notice my brain had gotten mushy.

National Public Radio (NPR) has existed since 1970, but I didn't discover it until much later.  Beyond politics, it has hour-long programs on subjects I didn't know about or care about.  One day, a host announced the subject was corn.  He said he didn't know how to fill the show with such a limited topic, yet the following hour was fascinating with history, selective breeding, farming, chemicals... I had no idea I wanted to learn about corn until then, and I was disappointed my friends didn't want to hear about it too.

Corn needs rich soil to grow.  Brains are like that too.  I didn't know my brain was mushy until I dated a guy who actually wanted to talk about the corn program.  It was like someone plugging in the Christmas lights.  Look at all the colors!  Look at all the other interesting things we can learn about and discuss!

My friends eventually got their kids housebroken and quit being sleep-deprived, diaper-obsessed zombies, yet some of them still didn't care about discussing corn or whatever topic was interesting me at the moment.  That's okay.  They laugh at me and we bond over other things.  I had room in my life for more friends who do enjoy NPR topics. 

I thought my brain was safe from mushiness until my boss died several years ago and I had to instantly learn how to do her job which included math I hadn't considered since I was in school.  I had to learn computer programs.  My brain hurt, I mean literally.  It actually hurt.  I think it was shorting out and I was the sleep-deprived zombie.  I self-pityingly repeated Great Grandpa's maxim in my mind as I fought senility with math.  I realized that while all learning is good, learning new things in new ways is even better.

The point is we aren't set in stone unless we want to be fossils.  We can teach old dogs new tricks.  We don't have to accept a 3rd grade teacher's assessment of our intelligence as a mandate for our entire lives.  It can be good to make ourselves uncomfortable in order to grow.

I drew the thistle for Inktober's "injury" because I pulled thistles out of my garden without putting on gloves.  Duh!  Clearly, I am not that smart about some things!  I picked thistle slivers out of my hands for a week.  Maybe I've learned to use gloves next time?

"Mindless"

Doodling my brakes and calipers on an estimate for brakes for "Tread"