Good Morning Wood...

In the rare occasion that I happen to get up in the morning before Mr. Man does, I like to sneak into his room and lay down next to him. He is such a happy kid in the morning.(most mornings anyway)

As he wakes we talk about dreams and breakfast.

This morning it went like this:

With his eyes still closed I hear:

"Morning Daddy. Are all of the presents still under the tree?"

Yes they are.

Phew. That's good. Is there a bad dream stuck in my Dream Catcher? I thought I had a bad dream but I'm not sure, so if the Dream Catcher has it I want to see.

No dreams still in it. When the sun comes up the dreams disappear. That way they can't come back.

Should my penis be standing up? It does that every morning. Is that ok? What happens if it's not standing up? Is that ok too? What's for breakfast? Is mom up yet?

Yes. Yes. Nothing yet. Yes. Pancakes. Yes.

Thanks Dad.

On The Easel...13...Thud Moment

At any given moment in time, a fraction of a second, that changes everything. The universe is altered ever so slightly, but it's more than enough to change the course of events from that moment on. There's no going back.

If you're very lucky and paying close attention, you just might hear it.

THUD!

Oh how I wish it were truly an audible sound for all to hear. Just in case you had your ear buds in, listening to your latest down load or pod cast. Someone near you may of heard your Thud and they could give a heads up.

Dude, That was a close one. Thanks for the heads up.

Truth is, we seldom hear the Thud until much latter. Going back in our minds where no one can hear our screams but us, we re-play the situation. We watch our selves as if a bystander, and there it is...

THUD!

Son, of, a, bee-atch! How did I not see that one coming? Did you hear that? That was one heck of a Thud.

Ah, but such is life. The crystal clear vision that is hind sight. I seldom have my narrator when I need her.

Life gets funny at times. Not so much a funny Ha Ha, but more a funny peculiar. Like an aroma. Not necessarily an inviting aroma but it doesn't make you gag either. Tolerable, in a curious sort of...

So. Off. Track...real it in...


The first hour or so. A wash of blues, greens, red and just a touch of black and white. 36 x 48 inches on canvas. She has a few issues with alignment, but who doesn't. I'll fix them. I had to share. I'm very excited about this one for some reason. But I'm stopping. It's like late. Early. take your pick.

If I'm lucky, I may have her done in five to ten...years, we'll see.

Did you hear that? Some one is Thudding.

Perception vs Reality...

I have a really bad habit of letting my idealized perception of certain things, impair my judgment to the point that the reality, is disappointing and at times heart breaking.

For example:
From the time I started my study of art, one of the things I idealized more than almost any other, was Florence Italy. The birth place of the Renaissance. A period that changed and enlightened humanity. Some of the greatest works of art that have ever been created by man were made in Florence.

I always thought of Florence to be this same place of enlightenment. I thought everything would be perfect and beautiful.

It wasn't. It was a modern city, with ugly buildings, pollution, graffiti and litter. Everywhere you looked were cheap Chinese made Davids on key chains. Venus' on tee shirts, Tourists defacing walls and making a mockery of everything I had dreamed about. It still nearly brings tears to my eyes when I think about it.

Maybe it's the romantic in me. Maybe I spend too much time dreaming. Maybe I'm just naive. Florence, if taken for what it is, is still a fabulous city with treasures around every corner. But in my mind it will always be tarnished. I feel like humanity has lost something special and replaced it with a tourist attraction.

I will most likely never go back because the city can never meet the expectations that I see in my mind. I would rather think of her as I do, than what she has become.

As I get older I have added more and more places to the list of which I can never return. I can't seem to stop idealizing certain things. And inevitably I keep getting disappointed by the reality that things have become.

Don't get me wrong. There have been many places that I loved more in reality than there are disappointments. It's just that I find myself doing the same thing in everyday life. I build things up in my head to where the reality will never be able to compete.

I'm not sure I will ever be able to stop living in my fantasy world. I've been here too long. What I need to learn, is how to find a happy medium. Allow myself to see the reality along with the fantasy.

Magnetic Personality...

Some people are magnets. It's nothing we do per say. It's just who we are. Some of us attract wealth. Some of us attract talent, others beauty. It's that magnetic personality you hear of.

I, as it turns out, do have a magnetic personality. I, however, attract morons.

I try to dress nice. I stand up straight. I try to sound some what literate and coherent. I shower on a daily basis.

Today I was talking with a woman about a, "Two. Thousand. Year. Old. Buddha. From. India." Which I pointed out to her, explaining the rarity and value of such antiquities.

She listened to what I had to say, looks me right in the face and asks: "Are you the artist?"

I kid you not. And I said, with out hesitation: "Yes. Yes I am". She nodded and said: "You're very good."

Yes. Yes I am. I am very good at attracting morons.

MORONS!

This is my power. This is my curse!

For the love of God, how do I demagnetize?

Emergancy, Emergancy...

She was in very bad shape when he brought her to me. She had been cut bad and was coming apart at the seems. He had been hiding her from us. Trying to protect her. As if we would be mad for some reason, or take her away.

We rushed her to the ER. Desperately we tried to hold her together. Stitching as fast as we could. She took more than eighteen yards of thread. Hundreds of stitches and a couple of grafts.

The scarring, I'm sad to say will be permanent. Her life span has most likely been considerably reduced, but with proper care and regular check ups, She should have a happy life.

*****

Does it hurt her Dad? She says it hurts.

No, it doesn't hurt. We used anesthetic so she wont feel a thing.

What's amneshectic?

Anesthetic. It makes her not feel things for a while. She'll be fine.

I don't know. She doesn't look so good.

I think she'll be alright.

Alright. If you say so. I'll tell her that everything will be OK.

She'll be fine.

Can I stay with her while you sew? She needs me.

I think that would be alright.

(He gave a soft sigh, and whispered) It will be ok. Daddy will make you better. (he laid a hand softly on a corner I wasn't working on and just sat there for a while)

*****


I am happy to report that She will be alright. She, is Mr. Man's blanky. I worked on her for more than an hour, trying to stitch her all back into one piece. She has been loved, almost to death.

Selfish, Greedy, Asshat...Update

I talked to my friend tonight. Her boss was doing more whining about how sad things were, for him. So to make himself feel better. He bought his wife a brand new Mercedes and himself a brand new Porsche. But he was thinking about giving each of his now, unemployed, former employees, a $50 check to help them out.

Selfish, Greedy, Asshat...

Sometimes I really want to inflict bodily harm to another human being.

I don't, because that would be wrong, and I am not a violent person. Even when provoked. Violence never solves anything. But, in my mind, I would break this guys knee caps and smile, because he would totally deserve it.

Find out why at Modern Man.

C'est Moi...I'm A French Book Wiener.

Pumpkin, at My French (Swiss) Window, had a give away drawing this week for a wonderful Oxford first French words book and guess who won.

Moi!

How cool is that?

I'll tell you. It's pretty darn cool.

Thank you very much Pumpkin. I can't wait to get it. Maybe I can learn some French as well as Mr. Man.

Something About Cake And Eating...

Hollywood will have to wait until next season.

I was on the set of the "Ex List". I was in episodes 8 and 9. From the sounds of it, the show was canceled after they aired episode 7. I do not know this to be a fact. It is possible that the rest of the filmed episodes will be aired at a later date. Sorry Penelope. I'm not a star yet.

Filming at the studio here in San Diego has stopped for the holidays. They will start again in a few months or if they pick up another show. I plan on going back when I can.

Tomorrow is the end of my first week of the "dream job". I have to stop calling it that. I tried very hard not to wear the rose colored glasses more than a day or two. I need to see it for what it is. Right now, it is hard work. My brain hurts from all of the studying and I have found a huge flaw. Today I say Mr. Man for about twenty minutes before I left for work. He was a sleep when I got home. That stinks!

For years I was able to do my job without really thinking about it. I had the same group of artists. I dealt with the same agents, publishers and galleries. I really could do my job on auto pilot. Now, it's a different ball game. I have much to learn. Everyday I spend hours reading and studying. Giving talks and presentations to colleges and my bosses. Unlike the work I had before, this time I can't wing it. I need to know exactly what I'm talking about.

I enjoy the challenge. It's great to use the old brain pan again after years of it being dormant.

Today I felt like a complete dunce. Of course the first real person I spoke with, asked me about the Fauvist. For a second I thought I had blacked out. I went completely blank. I couldn't remember anything about it. Not one of the artists came to mind. I couldn't remember what the style was about. I couldn't even remember what the word Fauve meant. It was most embarrassing.

How could I forget Matisse and "Wild Beast"?

Slowly Making Me Nuts...

So little to do, so much time.

Wait, reverse that.

The 2nd new job is a lot of fun. Hard, but fun. I haven't had to work my brain like this for years. It's a nice change of pace. I will tell you that it is still in the art world. Tomorrow I have to be part of a conference call, and they are going to quiz me. With the entire company on the call. After three days. I will find out about 2 minutes before hand what I have to tell them about. Nothing like pressure.

I think I am going to have to let the 1st job go. I can't seem to get anyone in Vista to talk to me. They don't care that we are reviewing their businesses. What a bunch of hostile dip shits. It takes for ever to get anything done. At this rate I'm making about $2 an hour. I think it might be best to focus on the job I really want, the 2nd one.

Have you ever known anyone that likes to think that they are some kind of "visionary", and the rest of the world just thinks that they're f-ing nuts? I know someone like that. Unfortunately he has been a part of our lives for far too long. Just when I think he has done the craziest thing I have ever seen, he tops himself. Amazing! And yes, he has done it again. That's another story.

The art world just gets more and more insane. It's really too bad that I love it so much. It's slowly making me nuts too. Although, in fairness, I may have had a head start to begin with.

This morning at around 3:30 am Precious and I had a conversation about money, life, jobs and our stress levels. Ya, I haven't been sleeping much. About three hours a night for the last week.

Anywho, it brought up a few very funny topics. At least they were funny in the middle of the night. We laughed and laughed.
  • People that are in debt shouldn't stress. It's the people we owe money to, that should worry.
Ya, that was a hell of a lot funnier at 3:30 am. There was more, but I'm going to keep those to myself. For Now.

So Mr. Man and I are driving along, minding our own business, when this crazy man goes whipping by. Mr. Man says, "Dad, that guy...is..a..total...douche bag."

I almost broke a rib trying not to laugh. He was right, but...I have to take the blame for that. I'm sure he heard me say that at one point or another.

He was right though. The guy was a douche bag.

My movie career has come to an end. At least for a while. The show I was filming has been canceled. They most likely won't even air the ones I was on.

Hollywood still sucks!

When Did This Turn Into A Personal Journal Of Whine?

It's about 5am. I've been awake for several hours now. Can't sleep. I started my new job yesterday. Loved it. This is a lousy time for insomnia. I have a ton of things to learn. My brain hurts from reading. The last two years seem to have turned me into a veg.

On top of that I am feeling claustrophobic in my own body. I'm having sinus trouble. They swell up to where I can not breath through my nose at all. Nothing. In or out. I've tried inhalers. Sprays. Decongestants. Tubes. The pressure builds up to where it gives me migraines. I'm quite sure that if I took an ice pick, and stuck it through one of my eyes into my brain, and swirled it around, that it would feel better than it does right now. Never a shot gun around when you need one.

It's difficult to read and learn things when your head might implode.

On Monday, My in-laws came to visit. Until May. Yep. In-laws for six months. Fortunately they are pretty cool as far as in-laws go. I just need to remember that I can't roam around the house nekid. Well, I can, but, it gets awkward.


*****

I shot this guy at the Wild Animal Park last week. He doesn't usually lay around like this. The rock he's on sits at the top of their enclosure. He has a view of a huge section of the park. I am pretty sure he was watching the zebras. Or small kids, it was hard to tell.

And on a final note before I go find the ice pick, this site will be about art and or something interesting again, very soon. Really.

What Is Your Issue? She Asked Like I'm Insane...

So I relate to Precious my job problems. Briefly. Via phone. While she's driving.

She comes home and I give her the details and my concerns.

I get this blank stare and then, "What?"

"You were offered both of the jobs you wanted. A really cool job that suites you and one of your dream jobs. In the same week. Boo Hoo. And the problem is?"

The problem is................. I'm scared..................You want something bad enough, and maybe you don't really expect to get it. Then when you do? Then what? I'm having serious doubts about my abilities.

"You do the jobs. You learn. You expand. You grow. You love it. Why is that a problem? It's what you wanted. You've had new jobs before. You've had new challenges before. Your entire life has been trying to get to this place. Now you're there. Shees! I thought you had real issues."

Then she smacked me up side the head and told me to get a grip.

This is why were a great together. I am such a lucky guy.

So...I am going to try and do them both. I wanted them both. So. Problem solved. We shall convene again in 30 days to re-evaluate.

Cool! I have two jobs, or, Shit! I have two jobs.

We shall see.

Holy F-ing Job Offers Bat Man!

Dear Dr. Bob,

I need help.

Ok, yesterday I went on about looking for jobs that I'm not entirely qualified for.

The first, is one of my dream jobs. (that's still all I'm going to say about it at this point) The other is a great opportunity. It should be a fun gig.

The dream job has been very slow with the interviews, the evaluations, more interviews, etc. And they should be cautious. This is not your basic retail chain store. They can't afford to have some one come in and talk a good game then fail and have to be replaced.

The other job is basically a reporter gig. I interview businesses. Write a review of said businesses. I also write articles that may or may not include info from said interviews. It's a great job if you love to write and pretty much work for yourself. Which I do.

This week I finally decided that I can't really wait any more(having been unemployed for most of this year, I need a job) so I decided to take the other job. I started this morning. Interviewing small businesses and starting my reviews. (I have not seen such hostility to a business review in my life) I'm not selling them anything. It costs them nothing. They get a review of their business on our website and in our print magazine and they may be featured in an article for both and possibly for other larger publications. What is the problem with being polite.

Well the joke is on them. The reviews get written one way or another. They can cooperate or not. But if they're jerks that throw me out before they even find out about what I want, it will not reflect kindly in their review.

So anywho...

I'm at home, sitting in the sun, having a drink, writing my reports and reviews while I work on my articles when the phone rings...

(who can see what's coming next?)

That's right. Dream Job! They call and would like to offer me a 30 day trial to see if I can walk the walk now that I have convinced them I can talk the talk. They want me to start this coming Tuesday.

To paraphrase one of my favorite bloggers, Sizzle, I am now left with, "the square root of fuck all".

The dream job is basically asking me to come work for them for a month, for a pittance, just to see if I can really do everything I told them I can do.

I would have to quit the job I just took in order to take the 30 day trial. If at the end of 30 days, it doesn't work out I'm back to square one. Unemployed and unable to go back to the job I have and would have to quit after only a few days. How rude is that?

If it does work out after 30 days, I have one of my dream jobs.

**Insert photo of me pulling my hair out in great big clumps**

Give The New Guy Fluff...

I'm always the first one to tell others to jump. Life's an adventure, enjoy your ride. Sure for the most part I live by that same philosophy.

After some hard deliberation, procrastination and masterba.....what a minute. I've been thinking about things long and hard. No that doesn't sound right either.

How do I get myself into these things.

I have been trying to get myself in to a position that I'm not qualified for. About the only thing I can offer them, is an undying desire to have it. Without completely re-evaluating my goals, dreams and life's desires, I would have to say, it is one of the top two or three positions that I have ever wanted. The process has been slow and they are not really looking for help. Maybe that's why they're called "dream jobs".

At the same time I have managed to get myself in to another position that I am not qualified for. In fact I have never really given more than a passing fancy to even trying something like this as a profession.

It looks like I will start this week. I will be reviewing and writing about small business, as well as writing articles for a consumer review website and small regional magazine. (thank God I wont have to edit my own work) My territory is going to be Vista and Fallbrook Ca.

My first assignment is beauty salons and spas. (start the new guy with the fluff pieces) This should be fun.

...Dizzy.

There are days...alright, months, that it is simply not possible to focus. Too many things in one place at the same time. It makes things all...wibbly wobbly. Things that have to stay there, instead of here, thanks to superstitions, karma, the fates, and an "Intellectual Property and Trade Secret Agreement".

It's making me quite...dizzy. I went out last night, and managed to come home, with out my shoes.

*****

These paintings were actually going some where...at one point...and now they may have gone beyond...
I was thinking this should be one giant wave. It's 36 x 48 inches. Little to no sky would be visible. Maybe it's still there.

*****

This one, is no where near it's vision. 18 x 24 inches. I was thinking that the black lines are thin legs, walking through blowing sand and being blown away at the same time. Eroding, if you will. The brown in the center is the back ground mountain range. I over did that part already. It needs to come out or be seriously re-done.

Above the legs are going to be robotic humanoid things. Some will have mini hot air balloons attached to them. Telephone poles and wires running across from front to back to imply some distance. A smoke stack or two. In brick.

Nope...I'm not seeing that at the moment either. It's in there...some where...over the river and through the woods to save the poor old wolf from that evil old hag and her creepy hooded grand daughter...maybe...I like the top half in blue. Right down to the brown. Oh well.

A Bold New Day...But Only For Some.

Thank you America. Thank you for showing the world that we can open our minds enough to change. Or at least, want to change.

Well, a little bit anyway...

Shame on Arizona, Florida and California. (not to mention the 27 other states that already have changed the law to allow the discrimination against gays and lesbians) All three of these states have passed propositions to allow the discrimination of gays and lesbians.

"If we lose California, if they defeat the marriage amendment, I'm afraid that the culture war is over and Christians have lost," said Donald Wildmon, founder of the American Family Association.

In my opinion, "Christians" have lost already. I've read the Bible. I've been a regular Church goer. God made people who they are and Jesus, did not discriminate. Against anyone! For any reason!

If this is what being a "Christian" has become, I would rather be an Atheist. I will not raise my son to believe that it's alright to exclude a group of people because of who or what they may be.
Shame on all of you. How dare you tell others who they can love and marry or how they should live their lives...THEIR LIVES, not yours.

Maybe this sounds familiar: "Judge not, lest ye be judged". Or maybe you've heard this one: "Let he, who is without sin, cast the first stone".

We still have a long way to go.

Can we get here? Yes, we can!

Uncommon Sense...or...How Do You Sleep At NIght?

This is it America. The whole world is watching us today. They are wondering if we as a country have any common sense left. I wonder that myself.

Last night I spoke to someone close to me. Someone that I considered to be an intelligent person. She told me that if we allow gays to marry that next thing you know, people will want to marry dogs.

And that would cause harm to you how? Do I think it's alright to marry a dog? No. But should I tell you that you can't? No

Then she told me that gays shouldn't be allowed to marry because they can't have kids. The only reason to be married is to have kids.

Really. So any woman beyond menopause, anyone born sterile, or paralyzed or incapable of of physical child birth, should not be allowed to marry either. Which would mean that lesbians could marry, just not gay men.

No. She said, that's not the same.

Those people can't have kids. That was your criteria. The only reason to be marry is have kids.

No.

Then what's your problem?

It's wrong.

According to who? You?

God said so.

What does God have to do with the laws of the US? God said love thy neighbor. Jesus took in everyone, not just the ones he liked or agreed with. Have you heard of the "separation of Church and State? Religion has nothing to do with it. This is discrimination. All men are created equal. The rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? Any of that ring a bell? Or is all of that alright, unless you're gay?

They already have every thing we have. Why do they need to be married.? What if some flaming gay came to a school function and Mr. Man saw him? Would you be ok with that?

What is not to be ok with? It's his life, not mine. Is he trying to have sex with Mr. Man?

No, that's not what I said. How would you explain that to him?

Explain that everyone is different? Not everyone is part of the religious right? That everyone has the GOD GIVEN right to be them selves and not be discriminated against? What's to explain? If this passes and we deny gays the same rights as the rest of us, how are you going to explain it to one of your kids if they happen to be gay?

That's different.

How? You're telling me your kids can't be gay? Or they are not allowed to be gay? If one of your daughters falls in love with another woman, are you going to look her in the eye and tell her that she is not entitled to the same rights and benefits that you had?

NO. If one of my kids is gay I will go to their wedding.

You just told me that gays should not be allowed to marry because they can't have kids, and it's wrong. They already have the same thing we have. There wont be a wedding. Not legally any way. You can't have it both ways.

Well...but...

You're still going to vote for this ban aren't you?

Well, ya, Obama is a Muslim America hater.

OH. MY. GOD. HELP. US.

Did I Mention...

I have a few posts on Modern Man that I have neglected to mention.


Oct 17th - "The Root Of All Evil"

Oct 22nd - "Where Do You Get Good Directions? or "You Can't Get There From Here"

Oct 28th - "Fear And Loathing"

Oct 30th - "Stop The Hate - No On 8" *

*No matter what your personal feelings about gay and lesbian "HUMAN BEINGS", they are entitled to the exact same rights as the rest of us. Discrimination, no matter what your reasons or no matter how you justify it, is wrong.

People that think their marriages, or their religion, is at risk or will be harmed, should re-evaluate their marriages and religions, because they can't be very strong to begin with.

It's the 21st century people. Try to keep up!

How To Read Your Customer...

I went to buy stamps the other day. The lady asks me if I have a preference of designs.

What do you have?

Flags, hearts and Betty Davis.

It looks like Betty has been air brushed to remove a cigarette from her hand. No. No flags. I'm not feeling very lovey today so the hearts are out. What else do you have?

That's it. But, this one has a little guy carrying a heart, so you could pretend that you just shanked someone and ripped their heart out.

SOLD!


Oh, how I love good customer service.

Tricks Or Treats...


Violet is standing between Mrs. Incredible and Dash. She's a bit shy and hates photos. Always going invisible on us. She looks good though, trust me.

Happy Halloween all!

Oh Child...

This morning I get a huge hug from Mr. Man. He laid his head on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "You're the bestest dad and I will try to be gooder."

Four years old and already a master manipulator.

I'm in so far over my head it's not even funny.


*****

Stay tuned for Halloween photos. We are the Incredibles this year. With scary punkins of course.

This Is Going To Hurt Me, As Much As It Hurts You...

Even before I was a parent, I told myself(and everyone else) that I would be different. I would be better. I could see where other parents had failed, and I would not make those mistakes. My child would be different.

Now I have a child. I tried to tell myself that I was fair. That I made him mind and behave. That I was teaching him respect, manners, and patients. That I was teaching him to think of not just himself but of others. That our actions have an impact on others.

I told myself that I was a little harder on my son than most parents, but it was for his benefit. My child would be different. Better.

I'm failing. I've spoiled him. I clearly have not been hard enough. I let too much slide. He thinks of no one but himself and what he wants. I can explain the same thing a dozen times in two dozen different ways and none of it is sinking in.

For the last couple of months I let things go a little easier. I tried to tell myself that he was acting out because I spent most of the summer away. I can't say that anymore. I try to let things slide because he's only four years old. I don't buy that either.

In the last few days, he and I have had the exact same conversation so many times that I've lost track. I have tried different approaches. Different tactics. I'm getting the same results. An ill mannered child that is doing everything that I thought I was teaching him not to do.

Today we had a discussion about discipline. Apparently this is a foreign concept for him. It sounds strange to say, that punishing my son hurts me more than it hurts him. I heard my parents say it to me and I never really understood. Today, it's becoming a bit clearer.

It really does hurt, to see him cry and act like I have broken his heart. I want to tell him I'm sorry, and that he can do what he wants and have his way, just don't cry or be sad. But I can't. I'm the parent. I expect and demand more from my son. I expect and demand more from myself.

There are lessons that he must learn. There are lessons that I must learn. No matter how hard.

Dear Dr. Bob, Give Me Hope...

When I was about twelve or thirteen years old I was introduced to something wonderful. It stunk and was sticky. Ghastly expensive, and, if that wasn't enough, it was illegal.

But OMG! it was so good. I wanted it all the time. I came across poor quality imitations. Substitutes at best. No other had the lingering after taste. The tingles on your tongue and down your throat. The taste buds went crazy. The vibrant colors and lingering aroma. Yummy!

It was always with me, for the next twenty years. I never gave it a thought. I kept it to myself and was very discreet.

Then we moved far from where I could find such things. The people were very set on their rules and they followed them closely.

For three years I went without. No withdrawals. No pains. No freaking out. I did miss it from time to time but only in passing.

Well, then I moved back. My treat was once again within my reach and easily accessible. Sure, some said that it was still wrong. But they had not tried it?

Ok....It's time to get this monkey off my back.....I'm...addicted...to....

Unpasteurized Stilton Cheese.

There...I've said it...I feel like I can breathe again.

Thank you for being there for me.

Just Shoot Me...

Yesterday we had to be at the location to shoot at 4pm. Some huge house in Del Mar. The scene was an elegant cocktail charity fundraiser shindig. Or so we were told by the numerous crew.

For the first five hours we did nothing. Nothing. Then we broke for lunch. Because we were on location, the lunch area was about half a mile away. In a horse pasture. In the dark. We took a shuttle bus to be dropped off at the field of food. Then we had to walk through this little gully to get to the pasture where the trucks and tables were. Dressed for this fancy party. We are all out marching through a dirty mud puddled field. And I had just polished my shoes. C'est la vie.

My first shot was at about 10:30pm. For about 45 seconds, I had a line. A small, insignificant, meaningless, back ground line. I had even been makeup-ed. Then just as fast, I was cast out into the back ground of the party to smile and be pretty. Well, at least smile. I have no idea what will get used. No one does.

The rest of the night and early morning was was spent going from the waiting area to the set. Shoot for ten to twenty minutes, then back to the waiting area for an hour or two. All the time having to keep track of our drinks and jackets and what not they gave us for props. Although all of my clothes are my own. The drinks were bad generic grape juice. Really bad.

I'm pretty sure, in one scene, that I am on both sides of the party at the same time. Although at one end, I had to keep my back to the camera. They seemed to have noticed that as well.

We wrapped up at around 3:30 am. Got off the set and back to my car around 4am. Made it home by 5.

They asked if I would shoot on Monday. At 5:30. Am.

I passed. For Monday anyway.

Did I Say Hollywood Sucked?

I have always been a big critic of Hollywood. The quality is crap. The writing is substandard. The talent questionable. It's incestuous. The money it generates is insane.

Alright I still stand by that, but I am going to have to lighten up just a bit.

Why, you ask?

Mad William is going to be a star, a STAR I TELL YOU!

Ok, not a star. Not yet. I am however, collecting checks from one of the major studios. I am not supposed to say who or write about the show, but I am going to be in several episodes of a new TV show. Maybe I can say what night and channel to watch. Maybe.

I had never even heard of this show. Precious asked me about it. I knew nothing. After meeting the "stars" of the show, I still have no idea. I didn't recognize any of them. Well, one guy looked familiar. I'm sure I've seen him in things. No big deal.

I don't get to talk. Ok, technically I'm an extra. I do get a few features, which is cool. It just means I get to interact with the "stars" in the scene. Woo hoo.

Have you heard the saying,"The Magic of Film" or "The Magic of Television"?

There is no magic. I can totally see now, why any serious actor wants to do live theater. The way TV and films are done, anyone could do it. Anyone.

The women on the show are seriously skinny. Unhealthily so. There are so many crew members it's funny. There are guys getting paid to follow other guys around and repeat everything they say, only louder. It looked like everyone on the crew had at least one assistant, and some of the assistants had assistants. There was food every where. Catered food. Roach Coaches. Pizzas. Donuts. In and Out burgers and fries. Sodas. Candy. Cookies. You name it, they had it. It's crazy.

It's just like the government bureaucracy. They only need 20 employees but they are paying 60.
They take breaks every fifteen minutes and don't work very hard when they are working.

Last night I was on the set for almost 12 hours. Got home at 3:30am. Tonight we will start shooting at 4pm and get done, hopefully around 4am.

Of the twelve hours we were at the set, we spent about an hour and a half actually filming. Changed wardrobe three times.

So far it's a good time. We get paid alright, fed well and I'm meeting some very interesting people. Contact people. Future stepping stones on my way to world leader people. Well maybe I wont step on anybody. That's not really my style. I'm taking over tinsel town with kindness and decency. So Im' either going to be another unemployeed actor, or, I'm on my way to a Hollywood Star of my own. Mwahhhaaahaaa...

Hunting...

Until we can get a gallery organized, up and running, I thought I might try to find a job to fill in some time and make up some money.

The last time I had to actually try and find a job on my own was more than twenty years ago.

Job hunting, when the economy is in the toilet, is challenging. Trying to figure out what I want to be doing is even more so.

Apparently I'm too old for porn, so, back to the drawing board.


Side Bar:

Does anyone have any bright ideas as to where I can find bright red, full body cat suites or bright red spandex work out tops (long sleeved) and bottoms.

We are trying to be the "Incredibles" for Halloween without buying the costumes.

Now That's A Plan...

A long drive home. Mr. Man has been peacefully napping in the back. Until we hear the following:


Hey guys?


Yes Mr. Man?

You guys should call Aunt Randy. She could come over, we can have cocktails and chat. Ya. That's a plan. Right? Do we have any fizzy water at home? We need fizzy water. Should we have snacks or just cocktails?


And it was right back to sleep. Assuming he was ever awake.

This seemed really funny at the time.

Adieu...

This week I was witness to what may have been the nicest day and night of the last 30 months. Warm with a soft cooling breeze. No clouds or crowds. Breath taking sunset. More stars than I knew existed. The glow of the Milky Way spilled across the sky. Fabu!

Even with all of the bitching and complaining I've done, I'm going to miss this place. It's beautiful and there are some truly wonderful people here. Definitely a memorable adventure.

Looking back, I will remember all of it, and them, most fondly.

2008 Summer In Hell...

...is finally drawing to an end.

That's right. I'm sitting in an airport right now. Since 6:45 am.

With this trip I will have logged almost 10,000 miles, between driving and flying, just in the last four months. If only some of it had been for fun. Looking over what's gone on so far, I can say that none of it has been fun at all. Ok maybe a day or two was a good time, but I digress.

With this trip, our gallery will close it's doors for good. As much as I hated the way things went and turned out, I'm still going to miss it. I loved our gallery.

I have little doubt that some day we, or I, will open another one. It just wont be the same. I'm hoping better.

This week will be very hectic. An other loading of trucks, driving across country, stopping in four different cities to unload things here and there, then finally home. For good this time.

It was so hard to leave this morning. Precious and Mr. Man still in bed as I left the house at "O Dark Hundred". That's friggin early to those of you that don't know militant time.

As I kissed them each on the head and told them they are loved, they each gave a, not quite awake moan of acknowledgment. Mr. Man woke just enough to ask me not to go, then cried a bit and asked for his blanky. It made me wish I had a blanky. The comfort would be nice right now.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's so close. Or maybe that's an oncoming train about to crush me. With my luck, I won't place bets.

Focus, I need to focus.

Six Foot Sal...

This was the first few hours. Under painting. She' 24 x 36 inches, oil on canvas. 2am yesterday.

Duh...

Is there really any one out there that thought Clay Aiken wasn't gay?

Not that there is any thing wrong with being gay. Just seems like kind of a mute point.

Beside.....WHO GIVES A SHIT!

A Four Year Old Confession...

Dad, do you remember the PEZ in mine bedroom?

Yes.

Did you tell me I not to eat mine PEZ?

Yes.

Oh......Um.....Would you be mad if I forgot and mine PEZ accidental got eated?

Why do you ask?

Um.....I was watchin Incredibles and mine tummy told me it wanted PEZ.....and I forgot and ate em. Are you mad?

Did you save any for me?

Um.....Well mine tummy didn't tell me to save you any.

Now you're in trouble.

Mine tummy don't think so. So that's ok.

Blog Pole...

What should we name our new gallery?

So far we have come up with hundreds of ideas and we don't really like any of them.
Naming it after the street address was one of our favorite ideas. That makes it impossible to get the web site up and running until we have an actual space. We want the web site up first, so no naming it after the address.

We thought about using our names but scratched that.

So what do you all think? No suggestion unwelcome. If we decide to use your idea, you get your choice of paintings from my collection. That's right, your choice of any of my works.

Let's here it...

Hey Hey...

I sidled up behind her to kiss her exposed neck. My arms wrapping around her body. I feel tugging on my shirt.

"Hey hey, circle please. Let's get into a circle for a hug." say Mr. Man as if he were addressing the peasants.

We form a circle for a group hug. He sighs heavy and looks up at us smiling. As he turns to walk away, he throws his hands into the air and says, " Alright, thanks for the hug. You two can go back to your kissy stuff. I am out of here."

Dear Dr. Bob,

Most of the time I internalize my life. Good or bad, doesn't matter. It is very seldom that I let my emotions be shown. On purpose anyway. An even keel has always worked for me.

So I say. It's been many years, decades even, that, deep down, I knew. I know.

Knowing, doesn't change things. It's not just the bad times that cause problems. If things seem too good, internally, the pressure is the same. Strange but true.

Externally, emotions are seen as good or bad, happy or sad. Each with a different reaction.

Internally, pressure is pressure, it's all the same. Building.

When enough pressure builds, it has to be released or the container can burst. It can burst from any where. Any where, there is a weak spot.

To avoid a rupture, you need to release some of the pressure.

There are time though when the pressure builds faster than it can be released and more drastic action is required.

Take something sharp, like a kitchen knife, Swiss Army knife/tool, surgical instruments, needles etc. They all work depending on your needs or urgency.

Locate the area with the most pressure and make an incision. If you still have pressure you can go deeper or make another hole next to it or some place else.

I carry a Swiss Army knife in my bag, every where I go. I haven't used it for years, but, pressure can build fast, you never know. It just might save a live.

The release of pressure is much like a drug. Abuse is often fatal.

Find another release. Go for a bike ride, a run, bowling, anything. I learned once that the pressure can be let go of, with our minds. We just have to want, to let it go. Face our fears.

Easier said than done. Knowing, doesn't always help, at first, but it's getting easier.

Ravenclaw, You Are Not...(not necessarily you)

Where do ten days go so quickly?

Time seems to have lost meaning. A list of things to do, that doesn't get done. Let's transfer them to tomorrows list. Then let's not do them tomorrow either.


"Where are you?"

"Can you be more specific?"

"???? What?"

"Physically? Mentally? Artistically? Spiritually? Grammatically? "

"I'm running short on time, let's go with physically and work our way up to the others."

..................


That sounds like a great deal of work. Other than physically, I'm in an unfamiliar hood. It looks like a place I've been, only very different.


.................


Do you have dependability issues? Not necessarily "you" per say, rather you have to deal with this issues. Dependability is deal breaker for me. Almost always. There have been an exception or too, based purely on necessity but that was that.

When I agree to do something, I try my best to do it. Why is that so difficult for some? ...for most?

You,(again, not necessarily you) look someone in the eye and agree to do something. Then you do a half ass job, or even better, don't even attempt to do what you agreed.

How do you look that person in the eye again and feel alright with yourself? ...and you do!

How do I (not necessarily me) look that person in the eye and not slap them upside the head for being a complete crud of a human being?

At least try to come through. Keep the lame excuses for another. I've heard them all. I used most. They're barely believable and only add insult to my(not necessarily mine) injury.

Is that too much to ask?

Apparently.

Mobile This...

How many of you own Mac's? Do you use MobileMe? Is it working the way you thought it should?

Maybe it's me. When I'm told that all of my info will be synced between my macbook and mobileme, I expect that all of my info and the changes I make will actually be on both my macbook and mobileme. Is that too much to ask?

As it is only certain things are synced. Apple also sees a difference between syncing and data transfer. I don't see it.

If only certain folders or files are synced, it doesn't really do me much good.

I just spent three hours on chat with four different Apple techs and in the end I get: "not all of the functions are being fully realized at this time, we're sorry for any inconvenience.

WTF Chuck?

I love Apple, but they are pissing me off. Why do I keep coming up with things that the Apple techs have never heard of or seen before. Why do they have so much trouble with what should be the simplest of things? Am I off my hinges? Well yes but that's beside the point.

New Work From A New Studio...

So, I have most of my things in the new studio. It's much smaller than the old, without the view, but I like just the same. It needs a fresh coat of paint. Something other than "Suburb White".

These are the first five works from down south.


"Oceanside No 4" 16 x 20 inches


"Oceanside No 3" 16 x 20 inches


"Oceanside No 2" 16 x 20 inches


"Oceanside No 1" 16 x 20


"Mt. Hood" 16 x 20 inches


I know, the photos are crap-ola and it really doesn't look like Mt Hood. That was the first Mountain that came to my mind. Trying a couple new techniques. Shaking things up. Trying to find my space and muse.

This week I am actually back in Oregon.

I came back thinking that I would try to see it with fresh eyes and an open mind. Maybe I was being too hard on this little town.

Nope. I stand by my original assessment. I don't get it. I don't understand what the draw is here. I don't understand the people that come here or the people that live here. I've been trying to tell myself that it's not that different than any where else, but to me, it is that different.

The Northwest, specifically this part of it, has a whole different set of values, beliefs and attitudes that I don't understand. It feels like a foreign country to me.

Having grown up in a small town, I am a little sad that I could not adjust back. I really thought I would, or at least could. I can't, or wont. Probably a little of both.

There is much of this town and area that I will miss. Not enough to want to stay. Maybe enough to come back and visit someday.

One more trip will have to be made to close it up at the end of September. Another month of limbo. I still have a pinch of hope left for something to happen. Like business, but it's fading with each passing sunset.

Sweet Home California...

It always amazes me how fast two weeks can go. The days slip away. How easy it is to just disappear. I'd forgotten. I made good time from north to south. Not my best but still under 24 hours. It seemed to be prettier this time. The roads were better. Traffic lighter. Lights greener.


Except for here of course. The worst stretch of road I have ever been on, any where. 7 MPH. 24/7/365.

Most of the drive looked like this.



I arrived home at about 9pm. Precious was at work. Mr. Man home with a friend of ours. The look on Mr. Man's face when I walked through his door, was all pleasure. I had gone almost two months with out seeing him. Way too long. By about two and half months.

The look on Precious' face was more of relief. Being a single parent is very difficult. I'm sure I would not have done so well.

For the first few days I was lost in them. How could I have stayed away for so long? Never again.

I timed it for her days off. We had the first two days all together. It's already a blur in my mind.
Maybe it's just my mind that's blurry.

Thoughts of the world or the hell in Oregon that is my current reality, were pushed far away. Out of sight out of mind. Sadly, I know from experience, that hiding only compounds the problems.

I still have a business to deal with. Bills to pay. Tempers to sooth. I've said it before and I'm going to say it again until you...um...I, remember. Never do business with family or friends. It will not end well.

This, for the most part is what I was hiding from. Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away. A nice thought, but never going to work. It's come down to damage control. I'm not going to make it out cleanly. Where do I draw the line? The art world is always the same BS. No matter where you put it or who's involved. After all this time, I still don't get it. Do I really want to continue to do this?

Everyday that I've been home, Mr. Man has told me that he is happy that I'm home. That he missed me. That he never wants me to leave him again. He barely lets me out of his sight. I've managed to traumatize the poor child and he's only four.

I do have to go back to Oregon for about a week. Several times he and I have talked about me going back. Not for as long as the first time, but I still have to. He says he understands, and in the same breath will say he never wants to be with out me.

At one point I actually thought of bringing him back with me, but it wouldn't be a good time for any one. I have too much work to get done and a very short amount of time to do it.

When I close my eyes, things can be so simple. They should be. They can be. They seldom are.

Near An End...

Be it journey or wits', I'm not entirely sure.

Nothing ever seems to go as planned. At least the way I plan them. Hey, maybe it's me. I guess I need to work on my plans.

Things are a mess. None of us are happy. Now our dog is sick and in the Hospital. It didn't sound good. I need to be there for them.

For the past two days I have been running around like a mad man trying to get everything done. At least everything that needs to be done this month. We may or may not be closing the Oregon Gallery at the end of August now. It's up in the air. Never have partners.

I, however will be headed for SD in the next day or two. Precious and Mr. Man need me much more than this silly gallery. I have found someone that I can leave for a few weeks at a time, so I'm going to. Leave him that is.

Precious hasn't been able to read my site since she moved south, so I get to write about it and still surprise her. When she comes home from work on Sunday night, I should be there waiting for her. It's bee too long. I haven't seen Mr. Man in almost two months.

There will have to be several more trips back to Oregon to handle details and get some more things done, but I would rather be coming back to Oregon to do things than the other way around. So I'm out-a-here.

At least, that's my plan. Cali or Bust.

Sadistic Cruelty....

How long must we face off like this? Back and forth we go. Face to face or across the room.

Empty. Depleted. Exhausted. I pour my heart and soul into this. Into us. Into you. I give and give and give some more. When there is nothing left but the shell of my former self. A broken man. Somehow I find a little more to give you. For us.

Bloody and broken. You've beaten me down.

Why must I love you? Why must you hurt me? Hurt beyond my comprehension of pain. So simple in your cruelty. Silence. Cold, distant and indifferent. That's the cut that goes the deepest. Your ease with indifference. Your most lethal weapon and you can use with out a care or effort. You're a natural.

I can no longer see where each of the scars begin or end. There are so many.

How many others has there been before me? How many gave their lives to you? All eager and willing to walk into the mouth of hell. Hand in hand.

I lash out in my sorrow. I say things I don't mean. I love you. I have more for you. Don't go. Don't leave me. I need you.

You're expressionless and silent. You stare back at me as if I don't even exist. Say something! Do something! Give me something! Please! Please...

Your silence. Your silence shatters me. This time the slice had intent. Purpose.

A rush of searing heat and the pain begins to wash away. This slice was the last. Soon you wont be able to hurt me. I will be free of you and your sadistic cruelty. I can't look at you, but I can hear you. Watching me.

Silent.

Indifferent.

******

This story is fictional, and has no basis in my life or the lives of anyone I know or have ever known.

Oh, I have a new Macbook. Hi kids, I'm back.


R.I.P...

I spent a few days in San Diego. Problems. Problems. Problems.
My computer at the gallery in Oregon has died again. This time for good. This morning my faithful companion and love(my ibook lap top) has died as well. The Apple store pronounced it at 12:43 this afternoon. For who knows how long(until I buy a new laptop), Mad William is off line.

I hope to see you all again very soon. Be well my friends.

In My Head...

Some events in life seem to make a person reminisce. Like being away from family or loved ones. When we're all together, I don't spend much time thinking about our history.

It's a well documented history, with journals, letters and photos. I don't look at them very often. Other things take up our time and we get caught up in just getting from B to C that we forget about A.

For the most part, A was pretty darn great, but I have a feeling that C is going to be better.

Our summer of dysfunction is almost over. Arrangements to make. Things to pack and pitch. More back and forth. Planning and re-planning. Much art to sell. I wish I were a better sale person.(sometimes) I don't like sales. I don't have the killer instinct in me. It sure would come in handy right now.

Our new gallery space is so clear in my head. I spend too much time there and not enough here, finishing things. There is much to do and little getting done. I've noticed that I spend a great deal of time, in my head.

Is it all some elaborate master plan? Do we make our own reality? Is it all relative? Were my relatives replaced by pod people? I don't recognize them anymore. Maybe it's me that I don't recognize.

Votes Are In...

Those in the inner sanctum have been interviewed and it has been decided that I shall continue to wear the speedo.

A Smile Reserved For Her...

There are days when things are discombobulated. The mind has removed itself from the full body network, in order to wander semi-aimlessly. The body automatically turns on auto pilot. You do the things that need to be done. Without thinking about it.

Makes me wonder what may have actually been said to the people he came in contact with. I know the mouth was talking and the body was doing things. The mind, was in another hemisphere, checking in on reality only when absolutely necessary...

They're spending their first day together. Meeting at a small tea house. Sitting to watch the rain fall but never taking their eyes from the other. There is no memory of the conversation. Most likely small talk. Love was in the air. Little electric discharges could be seen each time they touched. The sun shown on them alone. Birds followed with song.

Puddles were jumped in. Hands were held and lips were kissed. Poems read by candle light and incense. A vase of flowers spilled down the back of the TV. Cowboy boots worn inappropriately. Mongolian BBQ, ravenous and disheveled. Blissfully unaware.

Each time the story changes just a bit, but stays the same. Two people so lost in one another, the rest of the world becomes a blur of motion and muted sounds.

I've heard the story so many times, each time as if it's new. A smile crosses his face. A smile unlike any other. It's reserved for her. His eyes glaze over and he's gone again. Back to her and one of his favorite days.

Things That Make Me Blush...

"...it's the content that matters - and you're full of creamy goodness!!..."

2:30 AM Monday...

"Birch No 12". 11 x 14 inches.


"Birch No 11". 12 x 16 inches.


"Birch No 10". 12 x 12 inches.


"Birch No 8 and 9". 10 x 30 inches each.

Myself, My Fantasy...

(it's a Port key, you have to click it, to make it work)

3:30 AM...5,6,7...

Birch No. 5, 6, 7. 10 x 30 inches each. Birch 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 and 13 are on the table.


People are so strange. As I'm painting these, I start with the blue. I paint the entire canvas blue, then put the trees over it. I had just finished the blue on No 8 and 9. A guy comes in and sees me painting. He asks about what I'm doing so I give him the run down.

Then he tells me he wants to buy no 8 and 9.

But they're not finished. I still need to put the trees in.

That's alright. I like the finished works, I'm sure I will like those.

They will look very different when I'm done.

I know, that's alright.

I need payment in advance.

That's alright.

I don't give refunds.

Umm...That's alright.

If you don't like them, I wont take them back.

I'm sure I will.

Congratulations.


I can only try to talk a person out of buying my work for so long. So, what I want to know is: If he liked the finished works, why not buy one of those? Why pick out two that are not done? They're the same size, same colors, everything. It makes no sense to me. What ever...as long as he's buying them.

My Latest Work Of Art...



Yes, that's my leg. Something I've been wanting to do for years. It's my second. A small symbol, names and dates in the type face, "Desdemona". In purple ink.

Snail Mail...

They may be a few days behind, however, all of the paintings are on the way.

Bitter Sweet..

I'm back at the airport. Sitting at the bar because, well, it's an airport and as we determined earlier this week, it's never too early to start drinking. Oh, and my flight is an hour late. So far...

I flew in late Monday afternoon. Then immediately drove six hours. All to be with Precious and Mr. Man for a mere 48 hours.

Now it's over. Mr. Man is back at my parents house. Precious has gone back to work. I am back at the airport waiting to head back to Oregon and the rain that never stops.

We have been apart for three weeks. It feels like a year. I wanted to hold them close and not let go. Hug and kiss and tell them I loved them. Which I did. I did let them out for some air and room to move. A few times anyway.

We played. We went to the beach. We ran nekid in the sprinklers.

About the time I got here and we all managed to be in the same place, our time was up. Time to spread out and try to get our lives in order, so we can be together sooner rather than later.

The saying goodbye was more difficult this time than the first. I so didn't want to let go. I could have held them forever. And I wanted to so badly.

Another three weeks and I should get to come back. Another life time from now.

I miss them already.

Liquid Dramamine...

How early, is too early, to start drinking?

Really, that early?

What if, you're in an airport? What if the check-in line were five, switch backs long? What if the ten people in line, in front of you, had never been to an airport before? And had no clue about how to check in, or where to go, or what they could carry on, or what planet they were from! What if the TSA were particularly slow that day? What if you gave a heavy sigh a little too close to one of the said TSA agents? What if they had nothing better to do than try and be jerks? What if you got pulled aside for additional screening? What if they made you drop your pants and do jumping jacks? What if your flight is late?

Ok, so the lines were long, the TSA was slow and the flight was late. The rest of that stuff could have happened. Really. I've seen it.

The point is, that I'm still in an airport. I have been awake for almost six hours already and there are two hours before my flight. It is 11am after all.

This is, your automated, captain, speaking. Would, you, like another, mimosa?


Yes. Please!

Shameless Self Promotion...

I have recently joined the Today.com site as one of their writers. They will actually pay me to write a blog on their site. How cool, and terribly frightening is that? I'm far from an actual writer but I'm going to give it a shot.

So, you will notice in my side bar, Daily Travel Plans, I have a link for my other site. It's called "Modern Man".

If you can, stop by. The more people that visit, the more Today.com will like me.

Thanks.

Stick To The Script...You Hollywood Hacks!

It's 2:20 am. I have a fond memory of sleep. Pretty sure I enjoyed it. Two. More. Days.

So, anywho...I have a gripe. TV shows that get me hooked with decent casting, believable characters, a good story and intelligent writing. Then for some dumbass reason they do something that should never happen.

Have they changed every writer on the show? Have none of them ever watched the show they write for? Are they all on drugs?

Highlander the series. I really like that program and watched it faithfully for six and half years. Then out of the blue they have Duncan kill Richie. Sure they blamed it on some ancient spiritual curse. Bull pucky!

Mad About You. For years I watched that show. It was perfect. Right up until the final episode. They Fugged that up beyond my belief. They went so far off course it wasn't even believable. It just didn't fit with anything they had done up to that point.

I could go on and on. There is list of programs that I truly enjoyed at one point. Then they pissed me off. Maybe I take it a little too seriously. I don't think so, but maybe.

These shows are part of our culture. For better or worse. It's a big part of who we are. The writers of these and all programs owe it to us, the viewing public, to stay consistent to the characters they got us hooked on. Throwing in some plot twist or making a character go against everything they were written to be, is utter crap.

I'm sure it's a ratings thing but it upsets me to the point that I will never watch those shows again. Not ever. Any of them. I wont watch the earlier episodes I enjoyed. I wont watch re-runs. I don't want to hear anything about those shows again. They ruined them for me forever. They're dead to me and it's just not right.

Duncan would have never killed his student and best friend. The whole curse thing was stupid.

Paul and Jamie would have never split up. Especially after having a kid.

Do you know how I know these things for such certainty? BECAUSE IT'S TV! These shows weren't meant to have real life problems and issues. They were make believe. They were great shows that provided a wonderful dose of escape from those same realities they decided to throw into them. The very thing that will keep me from ever watching them again.

I now return to your normally scheduled program...

Give Away...Update

Alrighty then...

"Pit Stop" is going to the home of Delmer. "Wha?" is going to Stacey. It looks like the seascapes are going to be split up between Christine, and Sarah.

Thank you very much to all of you. I'm pleased that you all like my work enough to want them.

Stay tuned for more give aways coming soon...

Oceanic Windows...


This is an, as of yet, untitled seascape. Each panel is 5 x 7 inches, oil on canvas board from December of 2007. They were all painted together so they line up. I'm not entirely sure that I should make this one piece or break them up and give them to six different people. Or maybe give three to two people, or two to three people, or any other combination that may come up.

I guess I will wait and see how it goes. How ever it goes, these lonely little windows to the ocean need a home. If you want one, or some, or all, let me know, and tell me why.


Just in case that wasn't clear. I'm giving these away.

So Much To Paint...And Give Away.

To all that have commented about the free puppy, thank you very much. Duke has been adopted by the lovely and talented Kat. She's always wanted a Mastiff. Now in three to five days she will have one.

However. Here are two more wonderful little critters that would very much like good homes. Both are house broken and very quiet.


This is "Pit Stop". He is a pit bull mix. Very friendly, for the most part. He is a 5 x 7 inch oil on canvas board. Three and a half years old.


This little guy is called, "Wha?" Not the brightest bulb in the box, but very kind. He also is a
5 x 7 inch oil on canvas board. Almost four years old.


Normally when I give my works away I ask a person if they would like one of my paintings. If they say yes, I give them one. With Duke and these two, I have asked for you to request them. I'm not entirely sure yet, what the fairest way to reward them is. I was thinking, the first person to ask, gets them. That really doesn't work since many of you are all over the world. The first person seeing the post has more to do with when I post it. So...

I could keep a list of everyone that wants a painting and give those people first shot at it. Maybe...

I could just pick out who ever gives me the best reason why they should have one. Then I run the risk of playing favorites. I want it to seem some what unbiased. Maybe...Although they are mine and I should be able to give to whom eve I see fit with out worrying about. Right?

Maybe a contest of some sorts. Like, who can find the most typos...Oh! Oh! Oh!...I know...

"Will give paintings for sex".
This one sounds good. But...No. Precious might have an issue with that one. Unless the offer of sex was for her...No, that wont do either. It leaves me out.

Oh well, lets just see who wants them and go from there.

Did I Just Hear Your Eyes Roll?

Having never spent this much time away from my love before it's really making me crazy. I talk with friends, and they say,"You're just sad and lonely, you might not mean the the things you say to me"

True, I am sad and a bit lonely, but I still love my friends. Anywho...

I am beginning to see some differences between the sexes now that I'm on my own. I spent an hour and some talking with precious tonight. We have been apart for almost three weeks now. My mind is living in the area of, well...constant sex. I miss having a warm body to sleep with, to hold, fondle, kiss and play with. So when I talk with Precious on the phone, I think to myself...self...you should share these thoughts with her. It will show her how much you miss her and care for her.

So, I say things like, "I want to hold your naked body and lick you from head to toe and every where in between." In my most seductive and sexy voice of course.

What I can actually hear on the other end of the phone, is her eyes rolling in her head. Sex is not the furthest thing from her mind, but it's by all means not at the forefront either. In her mind, she is thinking of hugs, kisses and cuddling. A more spiritual bonding rather than a physical coupling. At which point I have no doubt, that she could hear my eyes rolling around in my head.

Go figure, men and women are different. We express love and our emotions in different ways. At the core, I think we are feeling the same things, or at least similar things , just expressing them differently.

Who'd a thunk it?

Puppy, Free To A Good Home......

This is Duke. He is a Neapolitan Mastiff. He's three and half years old, well behaved.



Ok, it's not actually a real puppy, well he was, but I'm talking about this painting. It's an oil on canvas board, 8 x 10 inches.

It is free to a good home. Just comment and tell me you want it and can provide a good home.

Why, you ask?

Because it will make me feel better. That's why.

Breaking Point...

Is it something in the air? Do the powers that be, actually conspire to make things suck? Blame the weather, the media, the ass hat in front of you doing something stupid and uncalled for. Maybe it's pressure from the universe or aliens. What ever the hell it is, could someone please make it stop.

It's everywhere. Someone asked,"Is it just me?" No, it's not. It's a lot of us. It's everywhere you go. The things you read. Listen to. Watch. Sad, miserable, overwhelming...no end in sight to the despair and pain.

Makes a person wonder why. Why, is this all there is? Why, doesn't it ever seem to get better? Why, wont it end? Why, can't I get past this? Why, can't I ride my bike far enough to forget? Why, can't I eat a meal with out getting something on my shirt? Why, can't I let go? Why, can't I see the end? Why, is it 42 degrees, raining, hailing and snowing, in the middle of June? Why, am I stuck in this pit of self doubt? Why.....

I paint. I write love letters. I talk to Precious and Mr. Man. I email friends. I joke. In the end, all I really want to do is collapse into a heap in bed, pull the covers over me and sob. The only reason I don't, is because I don't think it would make me feel one bit better.

My grand mother used to tell me that God doesn't give us more than we can handle. Well Gram, can you mention to God, I'm about to break.


It's Not Just The Thought That Counts...

Do you ever make plans, or even set those plans into motion, and somehow they still don't quite seem real? Surreal, if you will. Well...welcome to my hood. The last couple of months, or the last couple of weeks in particular have been more than odd.

Being away from Precious and Mr. Man is much more difficult than I had anticipated. Not just for myself. I know now that I never want this to happen again. No matter what the out come of this summer, this time apart is not going to be worth it.

I will admit, there are a couple of things that I had forgotten about, that our separation has reminded me of.

One of those things, and my favorite, is the Love Letter. A lost and dying art form. There was a time that I wrote many love notes and letters. Actual pen to paper. When Precious and I were first getting to know one another, love notes were a regular occurrence. I still have most all of them. (I'm a bit sentimental about certain things)

As the years have passed and our relationship has grown, our notes and letters have decreased to special occasion. The sentiment is still there, it's the gesture that's faded. At least until recently. Even though our most recent notes and letters to one another have been digital, the thoughts and feelings are the same. I think it's the gesture that really means the most. There is something wonderful about seeing another persons words, expressing their feelings for you. Somehow they seem to have more meaning, or more impact than spoken words. You have to go out of your way to write it down.

I for one am planning on sending and leaving more love notes and letters. Not only while we're apart, but after we are reunited. I think everyone should. Spread the love people.

A Few Things I'll Never Forget...

Do you remember the first time we met? It's as clear as this morning to me. Those few seconds changed the way I look at life.

The first time we were out together, we were not really together then. You flashed me and I missed it. You blushed. On the dock, we stood close, to block the wind. But not too close. Do you remember what you asked me? Would it affect our friendship if we kissed? It still makes me smile. My reaction surprised me. I had wanted to hear it, but it caught me off guard. We walked back to my car in silence, although I did put my arm around you. I fell in love with you that night.

Do you remember our second kiss? You asked if I would put my hand on the side your face, like I did the first time we kissed. I smiled. We kissed. My hand gently upon your face.

I was so pleased when you joined me in California. The first time. Do you remember our first day in the apartment? The sun was beaming through the kitchen window. It warmed our skin. I got rug burns.

Do you remember when I went away? The first time? It felt like a life time. A life time ago. All the things I put you through. The second time I went away, you asked me to. I was sad, but you were right. Do you remember when you came to visit me? My apartment downtown. You used the shower. You wore a towel and we drank wine. I said you couldn't spend the night. You were sad, but I was right.

We were apart when you asked me to go away with you. Do you remember what you said? You had a trip for two. Acapulco. We traveled well together after all. All I had to do was make love to you at least once a day, everyday we were there. I remember, that we did.

Since then, I've seen the world. Thanks to you.

Do you remember Benihana's? It wasn't what I had in mind. I never could keep a secret. I just had ask. I was so excited. A proposal over sushi. As long as I agreed to 83 years.

Do you remember the day the stick turned blue? I made you do it again. So much for very unlikely. Our time has never been dull.

It seems as though we've been apart for ages. Not even a fortnight yet. A lifetime. I've never enjoyed being away from you. From that first day, to this one. I'm at my best, by your side.

Really, We Don't Know This?

The following article was on MSN this morning. I have to say, that ever time I read an article about fathers, or men in general, it makes men sound like knuckle dragging morons. Are most men really so un-evolved that they need to be told these things? Do men really think that parenting is for the women? Do men still believe that we can't be nurturing, emotional, and care giving? Hell, do men even know what common decency is anymore?

From articles like this one below, it makes me wonder.

Well men, let me say that it's time we join the 21st century. Women are great and all, but it's time for us, and by us, I mean you, to step up. We can and should be equally involved in relationships and parenting. Stop dragging your knuckles. There is nothing better or more important than being a good parent and partner. It's good for us individually and good for us as a society. Life is about more than Bud, Nascar and porn. Don't make me pull this blog over.

*****

1. Respect Your Children's Mother
If you are married, keep your marriage strong and vital. If you're not married, it is still important to respect and support the mother of your children. When children see their parents respecting each other, they are also more likely to feel that they are also accepted and respected.

2. Spend Time with Your Children
How a father spends his time tells his children what's important to him. If you always seem too busy for your children, they will feel neglected, no matter what you say. Treasuring children often means sacrificing other things, but it is essential to spend time with your children.

3. Earn the Right to Be Heard
All too often, the only time a father speaks to his children is when they have done something wrong. Begin talking with your kids when they are young, so that difficult subjects will be easier to handle as they get older. Take time and listen to their ideas and problems.

4. Discipline with Love
All children need guidance and discipline, not as punishment, but to set reasonable limits. Remind your children of the consequences of their actions and provide meaningful rewards for desirable behavior. Fathers who discipline in a calm and fair manner show love for their children.
5. Be a Role Model
Fathers are role models to their kids, whether they realize it or not. A girl who spends time with a loving father grows up knowing she deserves to be respected by boys. Fathers can teach sons what is important in life by demonstrating honesty, humility and responsibility.

6. Be a Teacher
Too many fathers think teaching is something others do. But a father who teaches his children about right and wrong, and encourages them to do their best, will see his children make good choices. Involved fathers use everyday examples to help their children learn the basic lessons of life.

7. Eat Together as a Family
Sharing a meal together can be an important part of healthy family life. In addition to providing some structure in a busy day, it gives kids the chance to talk about what they are doing and want to do. It is also a good time for fathers to listen and give advice.

8. Read to Your Children
Children learn best by doing and reading, as well as seeing and hearing. Begin reading to your children when they are very young. When they are older, encourage them to read on their own. Instilling your children with a love for reading is one of the best ways to ensure they will have a lifetime of personal and career growth.

9. Show Affection
Children need the security that comes from knowing they are wanted, accepted and loved by their family. Parents need to feel both comfortable and willing to hug their children. Showing affection every day is the best way to let your children know that you love them.

10. Realize That a Father's Job Is Never Done
Even after children are grown and ready to leave home, they will still look to their fathers for wisdom and advice. Fathers continue to play an essential part in the lives of their children as they grow and, perhaps, marry and build their own families.

Life On The Line...

Chapter one I jumped into cooking on a bit of a whim. With little to no hesitation. After spending many years in the art business I was lo...