Monthly Archives: July 2005

Bogging… seriously

Well, July has not been a very prolific month for me. I did manage to spend all of last weekend reading Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, after its arrival on Saturday around noon. I had it finished by Sunday evening, all 650+ pages. Must admit, any plans of productivity were dashed.

Today I went for a barium enema (lucky me) and if the procedure itself is unpleasant, the prep for it is equally so. I was on liquids yesterday to clean out my digestive tract, and as of 9PM last night, I wasn’t allowed anything, not even water. I was hungry all day, but the worst was yet to come… the laxatives. At the end of the afternoon yesterday, I had to ingest a liquid laxative at 5:30 and then another laxative, this one in pill form, at 7:30. Many hours later the tortuous bathroom visits began. While I did manage to sleep some, I was quite wiped out by the time I left this morning to drive myself to the appointment.

Ah yes… the appointment was for 9:30AM so I’d got there at around quarter after the hour, thinking that the procedure would start at 9:30. Wrong. It was to start at 10, and since nothing is ever on time with medical procedures, that was delayed as well. I was finally escorted to the back and donned the gowns, and then was led into this large room with a bunch of x-ray equipment. I lay on this bed that they were able to position (mechanically tilt) throughout the procedure. Nothing quite like barium, and then air, being pumping in from the wrong end. More than that borders on TMI (too much information). In any case, the doctor who was there for the first few moments of the procedure (who later left but gave the radiologist instructions as to which kinds of positions they needed x-rays taken from) commented that I have what is called a “redundant colon” and that should I ever have to go for a colonoscopy, they would have a hard time navigating through.

With the procedure finally done (and feeling quite like a balloon), I left for the apartment. All I can say is that it’s a good thing that Steve had placed a plastic garbage bag over my window overnight, because it came in quite handy on my car seat, albeit a touch later than I would have hoped.

Oh… and to top it all off, the switch for the driver side window of my car stopped working yesterday morning… with the window down. I was beside myself. It’s gaping open, so I had to pretty much empty the car of anything that might perhaps be of interest. So yesterday afternoon, in this sweltering heat, I’m making trips to the dumpster, to the garage, in an effort to empty out the car. The only bonus was that I found $20 that I’d apparently lost at some time. Did I mention it’s been hot?

I finally gave in and turned the air conditioning on in the apartment. It was 85F in here. I’d laid down for a nap and feel a little of my energy has been restored, but I’m not against laying down for another spell again. I threw some clothes in the washing machine, and will sweep the kitchen… if I’m feeling adventurous, maybe even mop… or not.

Can you feeel the love?


Gabriel’s Number themed ATCs

It’s been a few days since I’ve posted, mostly because I’ve been busy, but also because I’ve been so tired. And rather uninspired. The bombings in London… this never-ending war that America fights in Iraq… the mounting cost of gas and housing… WHAT sort of world have we created? And I say WE because we are all collectively responsible for bringing into creation this “reality” that we perceive around us.

I recently heard about some folks in Tulsa that were bitching to get the Christian creationist myth to somehow be portrayed in the zoo, partly to counteract the evolutionist science exhibit and because there was a Ganesh statue with the elephant exhibit which they felt was an anti-Christian bias. In an effort to appease the request, the directors said that they would offer six or seven creation myths equal time. The matter was later dropped.

You know, though, that because there is *only* “one true way” (whichever way said observer believes it is) [big wink], it will
always be at odds with another equally adamant “one true way”-ist.

Indoctrination infuriates me… instead of enlightening the masses, it keeps them blind and bound… but OH so self righteous. Dogma wraps us up in the details, and we worry about which hand to eat with, and which to wipe our butts with… which way to face to worship… which direction to call in first… which way to hold our hand to receive the symbolic body of Christ… which parts of the body to cover and which to expose. Semantics… does it really matter? Only if we believe it does… that’s what brings it to “life.”

If we could worship ourselves (and each other) as we do our god(s), we would be that much closer to reaching the Source of all creation.

There *is* one true way… that of enlightenment… however you achieve it is a personal journey. Stop, just for a moment, and feel connection to every single living organism in the universe. Can you feeeeel the love?

Art Journals, Old and New


An artist journal that I kept during my first year of college
(Click to see journal pages in separate window)

I’ve been meaning to scan this journal for quite some time now, but always found something other to do which kept me from getting to the task. This weekend I finally decided that I would get it done, and so it is. When I look through these pages I remember my young self floundering with this task of keeping an art journal. I’d been journaling for a long time, and had kept a sketchbook, but I had never combined the two. What resulted is basically a sketchbook with some poetry interspersed between the drawings. I didn’t scan those in, partly because they are not visually appealing and don’t tie in to any of the visual aspects of the journal, and partly because they were then, and still remain, quite personal (and rather morbid, I might add). I was not a happy teen; those years represent a very difficult time in my transition from evolving from childhood into what I can only think of as pre-adulthood. It took me a long time to “grow up.” Not until my mid-twenties did I begin to feel somewhat like an adult, and even then…

So I share with you my teenaged self, full of searching and conflicting emotions and most of all, the need for acceptance and approval.

Everyday Art Project – Cranking away


Self-portrait, colored pencil sketch

Ahhh… Conjure One remains one of my favorite bands. My headphones are plugged in and the volume cranked.

The everyday art project is drawing to a close, and I should have completed all of my pieces now, thirty two in all. I’ve completed about half, and will spend the rest of the weekend catching up. I now realize that I should have picked another subject matter to draw, as I am quite bored with rendering myself. I think partly it is the difficulty I am having rendering myself is the problem. When working with a mirror, I find it difficult to keep a constant expression, and so choose not to have one (which makes me look very stern and unhappy in the drawings). On the other hand, working from photographs presents a whole other set of issues to overcome. Some of the photos I’ve shot myself, holding the camera extended out. Others my husband has taken, and quite honestly hasn’t captured what I was seeking. So I am left with photos that don’t provide much in the way of inspiration, and I must work that much harder to create a piece.

In any case, this has been an interesting exercise. I realize now that signing on for something of this nature is too much for me to be able to comfortably maintain, and that in trying to do so, I incur more stress (which is in fact the opposite of what I am trying to accomplish with art). I also realize that as much as I love to participate in collaborative efforts, finding that it springboards my creative process and forces me to create when the lack of discipline would keep me from producing any work otherwise, I also tend to sign on for more than I can do, and again create a stressful situation for myself. At times I wonder whether stress is a necessary catalyst for action for me… or if it is a byproduct of procrastination. Am I too hard on myself? In my quest for perfection in my art, do I end up worrying too much about what to do? All in an effort to please. I like to harp on everyone else about letting go of the end result and yet I fret throughout my journey there.

Another frustration for me right now is that I have no space. My studio “area” is along one strip of wall in our livingroom. The livingroom is shared by my husband, where he has his office space set up, and my son, who when we are home is forever either watching television or playing videogames. The incessant chatter from the T.V. or from my son expressing his displeasure at being “killed” once again by one of the videogame characters or listening to my husband smacking his lips which he’s sucking on a hard candy makes the process of creating art very difficult indeed. Particularly when I’m conceiving a piece, I need to get into a certain space, and it requires silence… or music… but certainly an atmosphere condusive to a meditative state. This perhaps explains why I have been feeling more “wordy” lately. I can type on the keyboard with my headphones plugged into my computer and turn up the volume loud enough for the headset to sufficiently block out the noise in the room.

I’ve also been feeling the need to get outside and explore the world with my camera. I feel that I need some images to work with in my art, and want to use personal imagery, stuff that has meaning to me, versus using someone else’s work.

I’m also in a “gathering stage” at the moment. Instead of creating, I feel the need to amass information… to feed my Self. I ordered Ki Longfellow’s “The Secret Magdalene” which arrived on Friday. I started reading the book and got sidetracked somehow, pulling another book off of my bookshelf which I’d purchased a while ago but had not yet read. This one is The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, which drew me in and so I will finish reading it prior to resuming my reading of Ki’s book. Prior to the actual translation of the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, the book discusses the history of the foundation of modern day Christianity, and the “anthropology” of the time. It is interesting to note that certain gospels were rejected based on their content, and what was perceived as being the lack of continuity with the rest of the gospels. To me, it would make sense that the message that the Christ would have conveyed while living would have been different than that which he would have conveyed after having ascended.

Oh the mysteries of life… and death. What I know is that we are each much more powerful than we ever can conceivably imagine, and that our ignorance of this fact, perhaps by choice (in our effort to not assume responsibility for it), will lead to our destruction. I also know that there are too many heavenly chefs and they have spoiled the soup… and this is reflected in our world of today.