"Retro"

I decorated recipe boxes as gifts to the ladies in my office.  I won't claim to be the best at this, but I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself.  Are recipe boxes retro enough?  I usually try to cooperate with illustrationfriday's word for the week, but after all this time with little wooden pieces it seems a shame not to show off what I've been doing with my spare time.  Besides, all of these patterns are variations of themes that have existed next to forever.  Doesn't that count as "retro"?  Okay, it's a stretch, but I don't cheat very often.

I'm tired of playing nice with people this week.  I'm sick of being a responsible peacemaker with people who make me mad.  Why am I always the one who has to suck it in?  Hence, migraines.  If everyone did their share of sucking it in we'd all have a more manageable load and I wouldn't have headaches.

I've always had more than my share of responsibilities.  I got them at home, and I got them at school.  One of my early "jobs" was selling milk and ice cream at lunchtime.  This started when I was a painfully shy 5-yr-old.  The 6th graders were twice my size and I had one of my many moments of thinking that adults are lazy and nuts.

5¢ for white milk, 6¢ for chocolate, 10¢ for ice cream.  My little hand struggled to hold the coins.  Then I had to roll the coins, tally it all up, and file my report each day after reconciling the remaining dairy products against the $ amount I took in.  I'll have you know that I was never under or over in 6 years of money changing.

An older girl smiled at me and I started risking some eye contact with others.  After a while I appreciated my freedom while other kids were stuck in class through all those multiple lunch periods while I had about 2 1/2 hrs of pleasant money counting + my own lunch and recess.  Teachers didn't want me back in class, so my demonstrated ability to shoulder responsibility got me more freedom to wander halls, playground, and library.  I was best buds with the custodian and helped him roll up gym mats and climbed the rope to my heart's content.  It was a double edged sword.  I had freedom, but I didn't want the responsibility, and often felt lonely.

Making a painfully shy child speak with every kid and teacher in the school every day was rather torturous -- until it wasn't.  Maybe selling milk at such a tender age is a direct precursor to me being able to manage an office.  I learned some people skills and got some respect from my peers.

Sometimes I wonder if adult neglect allowed me to stretch my wings in ways that other kids never get to try?  That early responsibilities taught me that I really can do anything?  Or the flip side of it, which is that adults are lazy and nuts.  I'm pretty sure nobody would let this kind of thing happen nowadays, and in some ways I think that's too bad.  All I really know is that this is my life, and since I can't change it, looking at the positives beats looking at the negatives.  Just like a week of migraines forced me to turn off the tv and glue little wooden pieces on recipe boxes, which gave me much-needed time to think out better ways to handle the migraine inducing people.  See, it's all good.  The flowers are blooming and my ladies have pretty boxes too!

"Voyage"

I used to get in a lot of trouble for losing shoes when I was little.  Mom insisted that I put them on, and I ditched them as soon as she was out of sight.  Sometimes I remembered where I put them.  Sometimes I didn't.  They usually showed up again eventually.  Or not. 

It's a lot like people.  Sometimes I forget someone has died.  I reach for the phone, sometimes even dialing, and then I realize that person isn't going to pick up the phone on the other end.  Sometimes I think my missing people are in the same layer of reality as my missing shoes, existing in an afterlife with bad phone reception.

I think they're still out there though.  The people for sure, and maybe the shoes too.  When people die they go on a long voyage and forget to send postcards.  Sometimes I see them in my dreams.  People go on their journey, but they're still here too.  I don't know the laws of physics in the afterlife; I just know what I know, or feel what I feel.

Sometimes I think a bit of an anonymous poem... "People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime"... or sometimes I think "We're born alone, we die alone".  Depends on my general frame of mind.

It comes down to the fact that we have to make our own lives.  Nobody else can do it for us.  Sometimes we have people who help us on our personal journeys.  Sometimes we get to have those people in our lives for a little bit or a lot, but it still comes down to our life, our problems.

We want to feel we're important, that our lives mean something.  We want to feel that we're important to someone else, and maybe to a bigger reality, but it still comes down to the fact that nobody else can live our lives for us or tell us what is best for living our own destinies.  The people who matter to us are gifts that make the journey worthwhile.

I can still remember the red canvas shoes I had that were splashed with river mud.  They were missing for a week or two, and then all of a sudden, there they were on that flat slab of gray shale under the tall grasses.  I often feel like my missing people are going to show up like that too.  I just don't know which rock I left them on.

None of this was stuff I meant to write.  It just came out, and I figure why not?  Let it occupy electrons on the web.  Let me spend some time thinking about the people I've loved and lost, and feel gratitude in their memories.

This art is a re-post.  I've got a migraine today and can't see well enough to paint today.  You can see the original story of canoeing with Dad HERE.  What better way to think myself out of a headache than remembering dip... drip... of a paddle on a predawn summer morning?

"Revenge"

I'll be the first to admit I've had vengeful thoughts.  A lot of them.  Don't bother telling me that you haven't.  What about when some kid hit you with a Tonka truck when you were playing in the sandbox?  When you're really small you might just cry.  When you're a little older you probably struck back with a bigger truck.  Such is humanity's nature.

On the other hand, I think the best revenge is living well -- and I'll tell you honestly, that bit of wisdom took me a long time to come around to accepting.  There's some people I still want to hit with a Tonka truck.  In fact, forget Tonka. I'm thinking Mack truck.  (That's a big semi truck for moving stuff for those of you who don't know.)  But hitting them with a truck of any size doesn't make my problems go away, and dwelling on how much I hate them only uses up the energy I could otherwise be using to improve my life.  Besides, adults who do revenge-worthy activities are doing those things to keep others down.  Refusing to allow them to keep us down is the ultimate win.

But yes, I've had angry thoughts.  I've had so much anger inside with no place for it to go that I turned it at myself, which is the ultimate win for people who wanted to hurt me.  They don't have to keep hurting me if I'll do it for them.

My first boyfriend was an older man.  He was 18 to my 13 or 14.  He was a sweet farm boy, and I liked holding hands and kissing.  I thought that was all there was to a relationship and daydreamed our future of perpetual handholding, marriage, and perfect babies.  This continued on in a very pleasant way for several months until he pawed at me in his truck and I expressed outrage about him invading my private space.

Okay, now I'm able to wonder about his restraint up to that memorable night while laughing at myself for ever having that level of innocence.  Poor Dave.  Poor next girlfriend of Dave.  I bet he quit being so patient after that, and I made it worse by leaving a dead snake in his truck.  Maybe if I were older I would've discussed boundaries and expectations, but I wasn't older.  My body was more mature than my mind.

Sometimes I send out happy thoughts for Dave.  I hope I didn't mess him up because I really did care about him, and he was a nice guy.  I was just too young to date.  The snake was an impulsive, childish whim egged on by a spiteful friend.  I'm ashamed of myself, but there's no changing it.  The only thing left is to learn the lesson from the experience.

No more dead snakes.  (Which I didn't kill by the way.  I just found it on the road.)  No more Tonka trucks.  It's not like I haven't gotten provocations, and a lot worse than a teenaged boy trying to get in my shirt, but revenge doesn't take me anywhere I want to be.

I used to draw a lot of trucks for Sherwin-Williams.  My trucks were templates for companies' logos and such.  I laughed at the irony of getting these jobs despite my complete lack of interest in vehicles while my male coworkers sighed and salivated after those opportunities.  Maybe it all worked out in the universe through some Tonka karma?

"Vanity"

One time I was laughing with my brother about "cool" and told him that he might not believe it, but some people think I'm cool.  "I think you're cool" he said.  Huh?  Shucks, thanks?  "But if you think about it you won't be cool any more, so forget I said it."  This was shortly after a conversation I'd had with a friend who told me that I was one of her "cool friends" in high school.  I thought that was really funny and said so.  After all, I had a sibling who spent those years telling me that I was an embarrassment.

The thing is, I never really cared much about what people thought of me.  Once in a while I might get embarrassed if someone caught me in one of my many eccentricities, but living in the woods mostly kept me from that kind of discovery.  Most people that live in the woods are eccentric anyway, so I guess I was "normal" for my environment.

One time a date commented "You know all the cool people".  I looked around at my friends and was kind of surprised to think about them that way.  They were just my friends, mostly artists and musicians.  My kind of people, therefore...?  What?  Maybe artists and musicians are "cool" just because of the types of people they are?

So I've thought about "cool" and what it is, and whether or not I've got any of it even though I think my brother is right in saying that thinking about being cool kind of kills it because that kind of vanity isn't included in the package.  It seems like creative types are inclined towards being individualists which makes them more interesting, and they frequently break the rules.  It also seems to me that most creatives have some life experience, often bad, that inspires the need to express themselves.

When I think about "cool" people, I think that there's a blend between vulnerability, creativity, individualism, daring, and anger.  Okay, I've had all of that.  Maybe I'm a little cool.  Definitely not like the clique in school who used to terrorize us little nerd children, but I'll own being more cool than some.  (Did my vanity just lose me points?)

We're told "be yourself", but often people aren't.  You want to be more cool, you've got to be yourself and not care if "yourself" isn't universally liked and admired.  Somebody will like you, and that's good enough to start with.  If nobody likes you including yourself, check your vanity and figure out why not and make changes accordingly.

We aren't set in stone.  Be whoever you want to be.  The hard part is figuring out what's really "you", what's family and what's society?  How much of what you do is because of or for other people?  Or your idea of what other people want or expect from you?

And since I'm thinking about cool, you've got to admit Pope Francis has got some.  That's why people love him when they didn't love his predecessor.  I had to draw him for work this week.  We aren't going to use this drawing because it's too similar to a stock photo I didn't pay for.  I'm going to try again this weekend because despite the fact you see the Pope all over the media, those photos are expensive.  (If someone's taken a good photo or painted a good painting, let me know and I'll pay a moderate amount for rights to print it.)

Now I'm going to go back to my regular reality which is a little TV and a good book -- which I know isn't all that cool at all on a Friday night, but that's the way I like it :)  To those of you who like magical fiction, I recommend The Name of theWind by Patrick Rothfuss.

"Natural"

In the beginning I was a lonely wolf child in the woods with a father who made me eat trees and roots and stuff.  I caught dinner, killed it, cleaned it, cooked it, then washed the dishes and took the compost out back and buried fish parts in the garden. 

In my current life, my car was dying a painful death and I had to get a car fit the grown-up wolf child.  Here were my priorities:  American-made, affordable, simple, 2-door, hatchback, good on gas, 360 visibility, red.  This all seemed attainable until I went car shopping.  I started testing everything and hated everything... until that magic moment when I saw it and fell in love.

Okay, it's 4-door, but it's still a hatchback for the stuff I need to cart around.  I don't know what that stuff will be yet, but now the possibilities are endless.  It's on the "10 most American cars" list, with a Mexican engine and a Canadian something or other, but the rest of it's US and assembled in Michigan.  People laughed at me when I said I wanted an American car because they think everything is made somewhere else, but it just doesn't seem right to make a gas-efficient car then ship it around the world for me to start saving gas.

My Ford CMax is a hybrid.  I don't have to plug it in; it knows when it wants gas or electric.  So far it mostly wants electric, and my gas gauge hasn't moved off FULL even though I've been trotting around all over the place this week.  It's silent in electric mode and it gives me "efficiency leaves" for driving responsibly.  It recoups electricity from the wheels every time I brake and gives me credit for good braking too.  I love constant positive reinforcement with leaves -- it absolutely makes my inner wolf child very happy.  I think it's as "natural" as I'm going to find in a car.

And did I mention that it's red?  Not just any red; it's the absolutely perfect shade of red (ruby red metallic or PMS #201 metallic if you prefer).

I was sorry to let my old car go, but a bad transmission was the last sign that it was time for something new.  It was 10 years old, and a lot of those years were spent driving to the west side and back through Cleveland's rush hour traffic and some years when I didn't have enough $ for proper maintenance.  RIP or blessings in your new home.

I had to go through the old car for all my treasures before handing over the keys.  I put some of my lucky stones in the new car, but I'm a bit undecided if I should put my feathers in the new visor or search for new feathers.  I know I have to take my office out for a ride, so I haven't put the minnow bucket in the back yet with my nets.  My office mates don't know about my inner wolf child and I don't know if they'd understand.

Since the new car is bigger than the last, I'm considering putting the rest of my survival gear in too.  You never know when you'll need a tent and sleeping bag.  I have maps too because with 50 mpg, it seems like there are roads as yet untraveled that need exploring.  Aawoooooo!!!

Survival tip:  Dealerships sell you more car (or house) than you can comfortably pay, so they extend loans for years.  If you pay extra towards the principal, you shorten your loan because your early car payments are mostly interest on the loan.  You actually pay for what you bought at the end, but if you add even $5 or $10 to your car payment at the beginning (clearly marked "for principal"), you'll get rid of years of interest payments.  If you get a tax refund, put that on the principal too and you'll save a ton of money.

"Zodiac"

I went to a birthday party when I was in high school and celebrated somewhat too heartily with 5 girlfriends who shared a birthday.  "Hmm", I thought, "birthdays might be worth noticing?"

Thus, I noticed astrology as something besides a punchline in jokes of the era and discovered an interesting way to sort people.  If you've read this blog before, you'll know I think sorting people by color is pretty stupid because it really isn't very informative.  Sorting by birthday on the other hand is completely logical -- even if I don't understand the logic.  I am considering someone else's theory that it's based on the food cycle and family activities at different times of the year.

So, now we're in Aries and I have a big clump of people with birthdays right around now.  I notice they've got some similarities and can decide whether or not I like these people, how best to get along with them, etc.  Sorting by the zodiac limits people to 12 signs, and I'm pretty capable of handling essentially 12 people, especially since I can cross off some I never willingly talk to in the first place.

It's made dating easier too.  Most of my significant relationships were born within a week of each other, even if in different years.  Sometimes I've viewed this as revisiting a situation until I can work out a solution -- though I did get fed up and branch out to Pisces men, who were born within the same week of each other.  I really didn't plan this.  It just happens, and I notice.  (Which all sounds like I date a lot and I don't.)

In my many years of noticing, I also discovered a lump of people in my life that were given to me instead of me going out and getting them.  Twin brothers obviously share a birthday, but what about what about having 2 serious relationships with men born 2 days apart who also have mothers born on the same day?  Plus that Pisces who has a son born on that day?

I could go on, but the inexplicable nature of what I notice keeps me interested.  I read my horoscope in the mornings, but I don't really take that very seriously.  If it says "keep your mouth shut today or you'll tick off your boss and get fired", well, I'd probably keep my mouth shut just to be on the safe side, but otherwise it all seems pretty superficial.

One time I took my chart and a brother's chart to an astrologer and asked why he and I can't peacefully coexist on the same continent.  Our charts are remarkably similar, but he has Mars or Pluto or something in a different spot and whatever it is made a world of difference to her.  I suppose I could take it to a Chinese astrologer and find out that Ox and Dragon are combustible, which actually makes a little more sense to me.

All of this is kind of like filling in Sudoku puzzles for me.  I keep trying to figure out people, and the zodiac gives me a filing cabinet to sort things.  I'm Virgo rising.  It all makes sense if you think about it.

"Survival"

I'm writing this on a Saturday after spending hours with work.  Part of me feels very crabby about it, and part of me feels I "ought to" be glad I've got a job at all.  I went without one for a long time after my last layoff and the economy tanked.  I've been laid off a number of times in my career.  When companies tighten belts, art is always the first thing to go.  I've been forced into learning a lot of survival skills...

1.  Live somewhere cheap.  Live with others if you can stand them and they can stand you.  Buy a cheap house when you've still got some money.  Forget about buying what will impress someone else.  If your fortune improves, you can rent out the cheap house and get a better one for yourself.

2.  Get an affordable car or live on a bus line.  If you've got a car, maintain it.  I don't believe in leases.  All you get is a bill and nothing to show for it when the lease is up.

3.  Don't charge stuff, or pay the bill in full when it comes.  If you've got a balance on credit cards, pay more than the minimum and call the credit card company for a lower interest rate.  Leave the cards at home when you're out.  If you really need something, make yourself go home and get the card to slow down your impulse to buy.  Especially, quit buying luxuries, and be honest with yourself about what a luxury is.

4.  Eat at home.  Restaurants are expensive.  Cook real ingredients instead of packaged, easy food.  The food is better and better for you too.

5.  Live with what you've got.  Odds are you already have a lot of stuff.

6.  Buy things second-hand.  I paid $5 for my winter coat at a garage sale and have worn it for years.  I got a $200 pair of hiking boots for $5 too.

7.  Turn down/turn up the thermostat.  Just a few degrees difference in summer or winter can make a lot of $ difference.  Do without the heat or AC when you can.

8.  Barter stuff and services.  If you don't have $ for something, find someone who has something you want who will trade for what you've got.

9.  Quit gifting or make your gifts.  (See #6)  The spirit of giving shouldn't put you into irreparable debt.  If people knew you put yourself in financial disaster for their baby/wedding shower, would they be happy?  (If they are, get new friends.)

10.  Admit your poverty to people who matter.  Pretending otherwise only gets you invited to things you can't afford.  Admitting your situation also opens up job opportunities and might provide new ideas and emotional support.

11.  Accept help.  We're happy to help others, but often terrible at receiving.  In a way, that's refusing to let someone else be happy in their giving, which is kind of selfish.

12.  Be grateful for what you've got and you won't spend as much time focused on what you don't have (which only leads to breaking any or all of the rules above).