![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
something I am grateful for today
Nov. 18th, 2025 06:12 pmmaking a breakthrough [okay, maybe more like a baby step forward] in designing a character for my graphic-novel WIP
And over.
At one point this afternoon, I was completely stymied by traffic and could not drive where I wanted to when I wanted to. At which point I began to loudly and relentlessly F-bomb the other drivers around me [a couple in front of me in particular, who had behaved less than ideally]. After the jam cleared and I was on my way, I continued to curse no one in particular [the cosmos perhaps].
And then, as if I heard a voice in my head, I suddenly thought, I am so sick of being The Guy Who Does That®. At which point I went quiet. And felt a bit teary. And asked myself if I might do better to simply play the hand that traffic deals me [as I must do regardless], without all the agitating histrionics.
We shall see how long this new leaf remains turned over. After all, I've turned that particular one before....
At one point this afternoon, I was completely stymied by traffic and could not drive where I wanted to when I wanted to. At which point I began to loudly and relentlessly F-bomb the other drivers around me [a couple in front of me in particular, who had behaved less than ideally]. After the jam cleared and I was on my way, I continued to curse no one in particular [the cosmos perhaps].
And then, as if I heard a voice in my head, I suddenly thought, I am so sick of being The Guy Who Does That®. At which point I went quiet. And felt a bit teary. And asked myself if I might do better to simply play the hand that traffic deals me [as I must do regardless], without all the agitating histrionics.
We shall see how long this new leaf remains turned over. After all, I've turned that particular one before....
The other day we went to visit Ma [my mother-in-law] at her long-term care placement, as we've done semi-weekly for like half a year now. During that time, I've come to recognize and be more familiar with some of the other residents.
One in particular is a woman who might well be about our age or maybe not much more. Wheelchair-bound [like almost all the residents in Ma's section], white-haired, tall, very thin, with an elegant patrician face, the sort of bone structure that preserves your beauty for life. Most likely she was movie-star lovely in her youth. The thing I notice about this woman is that she always looks sad. Almost half the times I've seen her, she's been crying about no-idea-what. Sometimes she will let out an angry outburst of "Get out!" directed to the empty hallway in front of her... but except for those times, she is non-verbal. [Again, like almost all the residents in Ma's section.] When she's not crying or yelling, she sits quiet, gazing above everyone else's heads, looking utterly forlorn.
I remember a time that I couldn't help thinking that this must be a helluva way to live.
Last time we visited, a man about our age showed up. I don't recall seeing him before, but the staff greeted him by name, so he must be a regular. [TBH I've never noticed many regular visitors in that section besides ourselves — maybe we visit at unusual times.] He had a generous colourful bouquet with him, and brought it to the aforementioned lady, announcing that today was their fiftieth anniversary.
And that woman lit up. She wasn't able to speak to her husband but she kept her eyes locked on him and her smile never dimmed. She took the flowers from him, posed for him to take a picture, then a nurse took a picture of them together, and the whole time she looked rapturously happy.
I'd been thinking that she lived a joyless life, but here a moment of deep joy came to her, and she recognized it and revelled in it. And I found it so intensely moving to see her, that my eyes got wet and I had to take care not to let people see. We took Ma off somewhere else then, but that meeting of that couple wouldn't let go of me. I've been thinking about it ever since [my impetus to write about it, obviously].
I keep thinking that her life does have its own moments of Goodness, and those are probably what she lives for. And, in that respect, she's perhaps no different from any of the rest of us.
One in particular is a woman who might well be about our age or maybe not much more. Wheelchair-bound [like almost all the residents in Ma's section], white-haired, tall, very thin, with an elegant patrician face, the sort of bone structure that preserves your beauty for life. Most likely she was movie-star lovely in her youth. The thing I notice about this woman is that she always looks sad. Almost half the times I've seen her, she's been crying about no-idea-what. Sometimes she will let out an angry outburst of "Get out!" directed to the empty hallway in front of her... but except for those times, she is non-verbal. [Again, like almost all the residents in Ma's section.] When she's not crying or yelling, she sits quiet, gazing above everyone else's heads, looking utterly forlorn.
I remember a time that I couldn't help thinking that this must be a helluva way to live.
Last time we visited, a man about our age showed up. I don't recall seeing him before, but the staff greeted him by name, so he must be a regular. [TBH I've never noticed many regular visitors in that section besides ourselves — maybe we visit at unusual times.] He had a generous colourful bouquet with him, and brought it to the aforementioned lady, announcing that today was their fiftieth anniversary.
And that woman lit up. She wasn't able to speak to her husband but she kept her eyes locked on him and her smile never dimmed. She took the flowers from him, posed for him to take a picture, then a nurse took a picture of them together, and the whole time she looked rapturously happy.
I'd been thinking that she lived a joyless life, but here a moment of deep joy came to her, and she recognized it and revelled in it. And I found it so intensely moving to see her, that my eyes got wet and I had to take care not to let people see. We took Ma off somewhere else then, but that meeting of that couple wouldn't let go of me. I've been thinking about it ever since [my impetus to write about it, obviously].
I keep thinking that her life does have its own moments of Goodness, and those are probably what she lives for. And, in that respect, she's perhaps no different from any of the rest of us.
No Idea: 1962
Aug. 29th, 2025 03:51 pm
My 58th acrylic is sorta my 55th because I did the underdrawing for it back in January, then left it untouched til now. An attempt to let Expressionism [and maybe Fauvism] inform my approach a bit more than usual.
( the story behind it )
something I am grateful for today
Aug. 16th, 2025 05:20 pmGetting enough comic strips drawn to give myself a buffer of time so that I can try to produce a painting as a gift for an upcoming special occasion.
[Sometimes my creative life feels like I'm spinning plates.]
[Actually, the other parts of my life do, too. Just Sayin®.]
[Sometimes my creative life feels like I'm spinning plates.]
[Actually, the other parts of my life do, too. Just Sayin®.]
I was recently talking with Barbara about a local artist [acrylic painter] I have met and conversed with a few times... and how I always find it flattering but odd when I realize that said artist talks with me [and about me] as if I am a peer. Barbara says that I am one and should certainly see myself that way, but I have trouble with this. Then she got talking about whether I realize that I am a good artist, and that my art is good.
Afterward I thought about it for a while, and realized that I do think that my work is generally Good Enough®, but I don't think of it as Good®. Since then, I've been struggling to define for myself just what the difference is, between good enough and good.
Finally I settled on something like this: if I look at a piece of mine, and I don't see things that I wish I had done differently, or parts that aren't quite what I would like.... if the flaws are not glaring, but are acceptable instead, then I can say the work is good.** Then I got thinking about which pieces of mine I can say that about.
I came up with four. Out of sixty years of arting.
Not sure where I'm going with this, I still need to mull over and hash out. Wondering if other people make a similar distinction between good-enough work and good work. I just wanted to get this down while I thought of it.
** and is this how I judge whether other people's work is good? Not sure that I do. Yet more sutff to mull over....
Afterward I thought about it for a while, and realized that I do think that my work is generally Good Enough®, but I don't think of it as Good®. Since then, I've been struggling to define for myself just what the difference is, between good enough and good.
Finally I settled on something like this: if I look at a piece of mine, and I don't see things that I wish I had done differently, or parts that aren't quite what I would like.... if the flaws are not glaring, but are acceptable instead, then I can say the work is good.** Then I got thinking about which pieces of mine I can say that about.
I came up with four. Out of sixty years of arting.
Not sure where I'm going with this, I still need to mull over and hash out. Wondering if other people make a similar distinction between good-enough work and good work. I just wanted to get this down while I thought of it.
** and is this how I judge whether other people's work is good? Not sure that I do. Yet more sutff to mull over....
New Me For No Reason!®
Jul. 20th, 2025 07:47 pmSeven years ago I grew everything out:
and kept it that way until today:
and kept it that way until today:
something I am grateful for today
May. 26th, 2025 06:05 pmAn entire day free of obligations. I honestly cannot remember the last time. [I always figured that days like this were what retirement would be like, but boy did I figure wrong.]
something I am grateful for today
Apr. 24th, 2025 09:22 ammaking it this far!
Dunno what's different about this year, but I was really looking forward to this birthday and am glad to have it. Shaping up to be a great day!
[What's more, it's my first day this year wearing my summer shoes — always a Big Event®]
Dunno what's different about this year, but I was really looking forward to this birthday and am glad to have it. Shaping up to be a great day!
[What's more, it's my first day this year wearing my summer shoes — always a Big Event®]
As a part of training my eye and hand for a new upcoming project, I've been drawing studies of Lee Holley's Ponytail panels from the early 60s. And I find myself learning [yet again] the lesson that comes from pretty much any 20th-century cartoonist: while the drawing may appear and feel pretty simple, it is deceptively simple. There is always a lot more intricate work involved than that. Always an inspiring eye-opener for me.
My 56th acrylic is, once again, a visual that mysteriously popped into my head and stayed there. (As usually happens with any abstract that I feel moved to pursue to completion.) There's something about this colour palette that seems to connect with me, seeing as I used this same one last year. I can see me using these colours to sub for the white/gray/black palette I'm accustomed to working with in my cartooning, and doing value studies that way. (I even have a vague idea for the next one...)
A few times now I've mentioned the graphic novel I'm working on this past year or so. [And, if it gets out of hand, it may get too long for me to get it done while I'm still here.] Anyhoo:
Today I got thinking, "Am I being ridiculous to work on something like this when the world seems to be falling apart around me? I mean, for the first time in my life, I am looking at the very real chance that my country may disappear and be swallowed up by a neighbour... causing untold stress and disruption and chaos. And then, being able to draw a comic will become the last thing on my agenda. Society may disintegrate beneath my feet, and I'm still just plugging away at my comic book like all is well??"
I've thought that a few times lately, but when it happened today, I thought something else: "Yes, there is a chance this could happen. But, if I'm being brutally honest with myself, there's a far better chance that I could have a heart attack or stroke at any moment, and I won't be able to finish my novel then, either. But this has always been true, and I didn't let it stop me from trying. So maybe I similarly shouldn't let the state of the world stop me."
Today I feel like I understand a bit better what the Beats meant in the Fifties when they said, "When The Bomb drops, it will find us painting and writing poems."
My 52nd and 53rd acrylics are, as you can see, both pups. One is a gift, one is for putting up at the cafe and [hopefully] selling. I've already realized that my animal paintings are the closest I get to “crowd-pleasers”. So, when it comes time to make a gift, that's what I fall back on. But I've also already begun to wonder how much these paintings actually qualify as fine art. Like, do they say anything? Do they express anything about me? Maybe they're just an expression of “my love of animals”, and maybe that's enough, I dunno....
On the other hand, I can think of an artist I see on Instagram who only ever paints horses, and she quite cheerfully admits that's all she ever has any intention of painting, because that's what she loves most. And I've never questioned her legitimacy as An Artist®, so why do I need to question my own?
On the third hand, lately I've gotten more of an urge to spend at least some of my easel time working on less accessible pieces — I can feel things in me wanting to get out. I've already resigned myself to those new pieces not being understood or enjoyed, but I still feel like they'll be worth trying anyway.
something I am grateful for today
Jan. 7th, 2025 09:47 pm a clear sunny day, dry quiet roads, serene music in the car, and some peaceful time with just my thoughts
oh and a car heater that works [incl heated seat, woot!]
oh and a car heater that works [incl heated seat, woot!]
my musical discovery of the year
Dec. 31st, 2024 05:41 pmIt seems that, every year, of all the music I discover, there is one particular standout artist for me who turns me into a major fan. Most often, it is someone new [to me]... but not always. For example, last year my musical discovery was Richie Kamuca — I was listening to records forty years ago that Kamuca played on, but at that time I wasn't focusing particular attention on his specific contributions to those records. Last year, I was given the chance to listen to him more closely and more widely, and finally became smitten.
But my discovery for 2024 is someone I had never heard until a couple months ago: Cory Weeds. He's an exciting find for me — not only for his own playing, but also for the record label he runs which issues work by many other wonderful artists, lots of whom are also new-to-me. There is such a wealth of good music to be discovered here! You can bet that Cory and other Cellar Music artists will occupy my ears frequently in 2025.
But my discovery for 2024 is someone I had never heard until a couple months ago: Cory Weeds. He's an exciting find for me — not only for his own playing, but also for the record label he runs which issues work by many other wonderful artists, lots of whom are also new-to-me. There is such a wealth of good music to be discovered here! You can bet that Cory and other Cellar Music artists will occupy my ears frequently in 2025.
latest paintings
Dec. 31st, 2024 03:50 pm
My 51st acrylic is a nocturne of the Christmas fair at Hebden Bridge, which we visited in 2018. I got into how the night suggests rather than displays things, and really got into the depths of the lights on the tree. There's no razzle dazzle in this work, but I feel like maybe there's some honesty about a night I remember fondly.
My tenth gouache is a horned owl in the snow. This was my first time using an angle brush — I only recently picked up a few of those, in both bristle and soft synthetic — and I really enjoyed how it handled. I can see myself using them a lot in future. And, once again, the limited palette I have felt my way into for animal paintings came in handy here.
engaging with the world
Dec. 22nd, 2024 10:19 amFor a while there, I was not sleeping well. Not enough, and what I got was very spotty and fragmented. Eventually I realized that fretting about the state of the world was keeping my mind whirring and preventing me from settling down.
Then I saw a post from someone saying that they were cutting the news out of their life for a while, for the sake of their own peace of mind. The gist of their perspective was that they already knew by now what things were awful, so they could take that as read. They didn't really need this awfulness underlined again every day. Knowing the particular details of how the awfulness had shifted somewhat was no help to them. And these were all things that they couldn't do anything about, so more knowledge was not a guide to more action or more solutions.
Then someone else said that they had set up filters on their social media, for similar reasons. This is not something I had ever tried myself, but I decided to now. So I did, a few days ago.
Now, posts will appear on my social media, but instead of content I get a message saying this post contains filtered items. So I know the post is there, and it's up to me to decide if I want to see it or not. So far, I have been declining.
And I can't help but notice that I am consistently sleeping more soundly since I began to filter out some of the awfulness.
I understand there are those who will object. Who will tell me I have a duty to know what's going on in the world. As in, knowing everything, every detail. [Most of us who grew up in the days before the 24-hour news cycle realize that you can get by without unceasing news updates.] And there are those who will accuse me of flaunting my privilege, because it must be nice to be able to afford to ignore these things. [I don't deny that my life is privileged and blessed in numerous ways, even if I'm not rich.]
But the people who were cutting out this influence from their online lives were framing it more in terms of self-care. Protecting their health which was suffering because of this psychic onslaught. And that's how I'm choosing to frame this for myself: self-care. Like, I don't accept that I am flaunting my privilege by eating regularly, simply because there are other people who don't. [I do count my blessings, though.] If I have the capability to nurture myself [as opposed to wallow in decadent luxury] then I will do so, as much as I am aware and able.
Maybe that's just me.
Then I saw a post from someone saying that they were cutting the news out of their life for a while, for the sake of their own peace of mind. The gist of their perspective was that they already knew by now what things were awful, so they could take that as read. They didn't really need this awfulness underlined again every day. Knowing the particular details of how the awfulness had shifted somewhat was no help to them. And these were all things that they couldn't do anything about, so more knowledge was not a guide to more action or more solutions.
Then someone else said that they had set up filters on their social media, for similar reasons. This is not something I had ever tried myself, but I decided to now. So I did, a few days ago.
Now, posts will appear on my social media, but instead of content I get a message saying this post contains filtered items. So I know the post is there, and it's up to me to decide if I want to see it or not. So far, I have been declining.
And I can't help but notice that I am consistently sleeping more soundly since I began to filter out some of the awfulness.
I understand there are those who will object. Who will tell me I have a duty to know what's going on in the world. As in, knowing everything, every detail. [Most of us who grew up in the days before the 24-hour news cycle realize that you can get by without unceasing news updates.] And there are those who will accuse me of flaunting my privilege, because it must be nice to be able to afford to ignore these things. [I don't deny that my life is privileged and blessed in numerous ways, even if I'm not rich.]
But the people who were cutting out this influence from their online lives were framing it more in terms of self-care. Protecting their health which was suffering because of this psychic onslaught. And that's how I'm choosing to frame this for myself: self-care. Like, I don't accept that I am flaunting my privilege by eating regularly, simply because there are other people who don't. [I do count my blessings, though.] If I have the capability to nurture myself [as opposed to wallow in decadent luxury] then I will do so, as much as I am aware and able.
Maybe that's just me.
