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Over the last few days I've been, on my days off, immersed in painting of all things wooden skeletons. There are a total of 48 of them and when completed this rather large journey of art will be named. I've invited friends to take up a set of the wooden bones and have at it. The only requirement is that when they finish they sign and date the work of art.
The question of why so many may enter into your mind and the answer is: 90% off halloween products and the endless search for materials to create with.
With the said raw material being only 19 cents a peice there was no way I wasn't going to buy all that was left.
On my way home thinking about what I was going to do with that many skeletons in my possesion the first thought that ran through my mind was all those people out there who love the greatful dead, and how much they miss Jerry Garcia, and how easy it would be to create a limited series of art peices on wooden bones completely dedicated to the man and his music.
Then my thoughts drifted a bit, and other things began to surface. What art does to a person while they're creating it. How it tears at comfort zones and how it has the potental to become a mirror for the stuggles of the heart and soul.
I began to see all of these peices of wood as a journey. Take away the shape from the mix and you end up with a door and what lays beyond the door is completely up to you. It was delicious to consider the idea of looking at the skelletons not as skelletons but as blank canvas...I love to look beyond the obvious and see what is possible.
Upon my arrival here I was greeted and questions were asked about the bones. I explained the sale and what my intentions were and then the invation was made and initally three of us ended up at the kitchen table with paint, bones and brushes, ready to start.
Along with the choice of colors came the conversations that occur while art takes place in the house. The revelation of the soul.
The part of the journey I love. The part where things are peeled away and we disguss everything from things that we are dealing with to the joys and fears of life.
The passion of art. The journey that defies discription other than what it causes to surface. I know that's part of the reason why I love it so much.
As the evening wore on things began to emerge. One of the creations ended up looking like one of the aliens from the movie "Mars Attacks" It's now hanging in front of the calander in the kitchen. Another is shades of browns with green ribs. It's in a state of pause, as the artist who started it had to think about it some more.
The one that I'm working on is, well, a lot of things. There is a clock on part of the face with the hands hanging off the clock face and half a human face on the other side. The ribs will end up being a refection of ocean waves and the legs are lost in a garden and the feet are paterns of graph type design.
Like most of the art that I create, it's governed by the people and things around me at the time when it's being created.
When the work is finally complete, it will be more about who participated in the journey than what the end result is.
I think that's the real reason I couldn't not buy all thoes skelletons.
They are pages in a book. And it's off to a fine start.
Everything is still. Although I can hear the freezer running in the background and on occasion the house does a bit more settling, the people who make this their home are all asleep, except for me.
I like this time of day. The early hours when everything is still new and nothing has occured to challange the mood of newness.
I haven't had to face traffic yet, or people who are terrified of their own creativity so they want someone else to give them permission and ideas on how to make the perfect thing that they will live with until they get tired of the decor and start tearing things up in their living room.
The encounters with the kind of people who make you wonder if they ever get tired of living in some impatient state of life hasn't occured yet. And the daily rush that hits me like a flood when I go to work hasn't started yet. So it's a good time of the day for me.
I love this time of year, minus all the people that go nuts over shopping for stuff and things and sales and the perfect gift that they will go into debt for the next year over.
There is so much beauty that settles in on the world durring this time. The trees against the sky, the patterns that sparkle like prisims in the frost when the sun hits. And the birds that bring color to an otherwise brown and grey landscape.
The world outside is going to sleep, and waiting for it's covering of white.
The post office will become a mad house for a few weeks, and sales will skyrocket at the liquor stores in town.
The day after Thanksgiving people will go into a wild shopping frenzy that resembles thoes nature shows where a kill has just been made and the animals are going nuts feeding.
I would love to take away my need to go into the city durring this time of year. It would be wonderful if I didn't have do anything more than just what the day required of me.
I feel sometimes like work robbs me of the simple pleasures of the day. Watching the birds, the trees, the changing patterns in the clouds.
And it does, even on my days off. I'm often too exausted to just enjoy. And that's not right. But for now that's a part of the reality I live in.
The clock tells me that my quite time is just about done for today and I'm sad about that. Another long exausting day lays ahead of me in a job I'm very qualified for but wish I could make simplier, quieter, less draining.
I will be glad when January comes. And all the rush goes away.
Maybe I won't be so tired everyday then. Maybe I'll have energy at the end of the day. It's a nice possiblity to think about. Maybe today I'll take a mental vacation like I do when I go to the dentist and end up falling asleep in the chair while he's drilling in my teeth.
It's something I learned to do years ago out of nessity because going to the dentist caused such bad anxiety.
Yeah, a mental vacation. Then not a whole lot will matter, and all the things that drive me nuts about my job will just go away, and it will be like going to one of those old black and white movies with the keystone cops in it. Then at the end of the day I won't wander around feeling like a deer looks who's blinded by car headlights. Maybe I won't feel like I've been run over by a herd of cows then.
Nice thoughts. Nice dreams. Hope I can do it.
Things happen. Last week, things looked as though not being able to come here or anywhere on the net were completely an absoulte. I didn't want to leave things in a hanging state and do a disapearing act with out saying something.
Without going into detail, I wanted to make it clear that my exit had nothing to do with this place or anything anyone had said or done. It takes alot to offend me to the point of making me walk away from something.
I wanted to thank everyone for a wonderful experience at least before I had to go, and was given that chance, and because of circumstances, was ready to be without.
It also had nothing to do with loosing our connection to the net, but was of a more personal nature. Enough said.
I read the posts everyone left and want to thank you all for caring enough to say something. It made me feel like this was and is a part of my extended family.
With life what it is sometimes, here and then gone so fast, a person gets used to things stopping suddenly. And just gets to the place of acceptance, even if the question of why remains.
Sometimes it never goes away. I've had to learn over the last ten years that today is the best day, even when it's the worst, because today may be it. I've had to learn to avoid becomming too comfortable in some kind of idea of something being permanent, and that's hard sometimes. I've had to adjust so many times because I was in the frame of thought that something was going to be there for a long, long time.
Anyway, the circumstances which put me in the state of needing to leave a last message are no longer there.
And it's good to be here.
I want you all to know, I don't and never did take this place for granted. That leads to apathy, and the idea that something very precious will always be there. A solid rock.
Today. That's what I and everyone of us have to work with. That's it. Tomorrow the earth may go off it's axis and hurl us into the sun or away from it, in which case there isn't alot of time to tell anyone things that are important, or tell thoes people who are important how we really feel.
It's a good day, I have back what I thought I lost. All of you and my journal here.
Two things of value in my life. Thank you all for being here too.
Letting me into your world and see things through a slice of how you view things.
A special note here: Thank you Rosy, *smiles* for being who you are, my friend and sister, and being an odd duck...
I love you my friend, for all your words, your encouragement, and every crazy beautiful dream that made you fly dreams as if they were kites made of spider silk.
Fort knox has nothing compared to how precious you are. I'm a richer person because of you my friend and my sister.
Bunk, thank you as well, for being who you are. A beautiful mind, soul and heart, walking around in skin.
For you, I will write a book and when it's done,
just let me know where to send it, and it will be on it's way.
Well, work is looming on the immeadate horrizon and so I need to go dance in the rain closet, and then spend the day helping people escape the notion that they have no creative ablitlty.
Thank you all again.
Due to certian circumstances that have happened this is my last journal entry.
It's been good being able to come and write and voice my thoughts here. But like many other things in life that are good that come to an end this too is one of thoes things.
I guess this is like everything else in my life, it's all temporary. So I'll say goodnight, and thank you to everyone who took the time to spend a little time or more as the journals length required to read my thoughts and share sometime in my world.
Good night, fairwell and God bless.
It's almost 6 pm. And I'm wiped out and exausted. I found something the other day in an article that I thought was interesting. The definitions of terrorism and activism.
It struck me that both were geared for policial control.
It's too late of course to do anything about Bush getting his hands on 4 more years of control in this country.
But what I find rather sad about the whole deal is that what all his actions have done is tear this country apart.
It's divided the american people. And as this article stated as long as the people remain divided there is little change that will really take place.
How true. A group of people who can't agree have no power to accomplish anything. We remain vurnable to anything. And when you think about things that way, then we are in a very scary place.
What I've found is that there are basicly three views of things, the rightwingers, the leftwingers and the apathetic.
The overload feeding to the american people of mindless crap through the tv, and the obsession with possession of things that are designed and engeneered to become obsolete, has made the apathetic the largest group in this country. People don't give a rat's left foot, about anything but their next self indulgent activity.
So much for americans being strong. What's on the next reality based half hour is far more compelling than the idea that no person who says he loves his country as much as the dude in the white house would have ever done the things that the bushman has done to this land and it's people.
Today in his "I won" speach he adressed thoes who voted against him and said he wanted our support and would prove himself to us. I have this to say to the bushman, you will never have my support. You've shown me that you have so little respect for life that you were willing to sell out the american soliders for oil.
All evidence of other countries being more of a threat to the us and you doing nothing about their having nucular weapons and the stupidity to use them tells me that this stupid war wasn't about terrorism, but about money and oil.
So now that you won, you can go back to going on vacation and let the guy who's paranoid hatered of anyone who isn't us talk you in to sending thousands of people into a war that is going to end up looking like viet namn, go back to running the country.
I know there are people who disagree with what I've just said, but ya know what? I don't care if you disagree with me or not.
I don't care if you read this and think I've lost my mind and what kind of american doesn't support the president?
I'm the kind of american who loves this country, but hates what's been done to it and the people who have lost loved ones fighting in a war that should have never taken place.
911 happened. It was two years before anything remotely related was done. There are still people who lost people in the towers who are waiting for some kind of justice for thier loss.
I doubt there will ever be any. Because this isn't about getting the terrorists, it's about money. It's about power. It's about keeping this country divided so we're easier to control.
...united we stand...divided we fall....every stinkin time.
I hate nights like this. Where I'm so exausted but end up waking up because my dreams are too loud.
I hope the next couple of days that I have off are better.
I said something last night that I wish I haddn't.
It was an absent minded comment about something someone was wearing as part of their costume.
From what came out of my mouth, they thought I found it something I liked.
I didn't. I didn't tell them that I thought their costume sucked and it was in bad taste.
It really did. I like halloween in some aspects. I like the idea of costumes and dressing up. But there are some aspects of how far people will go that I don't like.
But I don't have to live in their shoes.
I'm very thankful for that.
I'm thinking I should go upstairs and paint for a while.
I have to get up early and take kevin into work. I know I'm not gonna get any more sleep tonight, and I have a feeling the next two days off are gonna be shitty because of it.
Oh well. That's life I guess. Chunks of time that feel like shit and all I wanna do is go on a very long vacation.