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Rhodies

I have quite a few more hours left on my next drawing, so 've decided to post some various photos that appeal to me. The drawing might be up in two to three weeks.

Memories

I wonder how many words I've said in my lifetime. I wonder if any had impact. Gibberish first came out, the equivalent of Wingdings. I'm sure I was expounding on great truths but no one seemed to care. If waa is a word, I had a lot to say. Crying was a big part of my first vocabulary which greatly affected my listeners. 

I've always been a quiet sort. Never had much to say in conversations with groups of people. I like to listen in that situation. Depending on the person, I can keep it going but I'd just as soon not have to talk. I usually take on the role of an interviewer. The greater part of the exchange is done by the other party. I guess that would put me below average in total verbal output as compared to the rest of society. There were, however, too many times when I should have kept my mouth shut. 

I did quite of bit of corporate writing. It was meant for that small world only. It was technically oriented and, for all of humanity, could be read to help one fall asleep. However, the stuff I wrote touched many in that small society and the effects are still evident. Many people are using the things I documented, but things don't last nor will my writings.

It's very interesting to me that for all the communication done throughout history by innumerable billions, most all of it has been forgotten. Life comes along and scribbles over it. Perhaps I  should cry really loud all the time. I'd definitely have a long lasting influence.

Brownie Lust

A park bench group I saw in London. Still looks better in the real.
      

Restoration

The healing of the wound

Is much more painful

Than the wounding

                 

The Spitfire Grill

On Drinking

I remember going to a college kegger once and arriving a bit late. As I surveyed the crowd, a friend came up and called someone over for an introduction.  I noticed as the guy walked toward us that he'd been at the pump a number of times. We shook hands, he smiled and immediately puked on me. Shy and self conscious as I was, I thought I might have been the cause. However, since no one had ever blown chips on me after meeting, I figured it was him, not me.

I don't like drunks throwing up on me or throwing up as I watch. Something comes over me and I want to actively join them. Maybe pubs and bars should have those little bags they use on airplanes. They could hand them out to those who've had too much just in case. I think I could handle seeing somebody fill one up. I would think it a courteous thing to do. I'd look away after though. They might spill.

I went to alot of keggers and parties during my stint at the institution of learning and did my share of imbibing. I have a strong stomach and rarely empty it the wrong way, but when I did in those days, it was always private. Puking in public is embarrassing.

I didn't do alot of drinking after I was married and now hardly at all. I can feel a bit foggy the day after and at my age, I don't need some of my brain cells misfiring. However, I really like wine, and if ever I meet a bullfrog named Jeremiah, I'd split a bottle with him. I'm certain I wouldn't puke.

Blocked

I took my last post down because I couldn't get the drawing to photograph or scan right and it wouldn't fix in Photo Shop. It's way better in the real. I was also going to post a bunch of pictures from my England trip but had nothing pertinent to say. I've started another drawing that I'll stick up here in a week or two. In the mean time, the brain fog needs to clear.

Yikes!

I remember playing in a hay field when I was a wee lad of 5 or 6 or so. It had been mowed but wasn't bailed yet. I had a great time running and jumping in the piles and rolling around in them. I picked up a load of grass to stack on another to make a softer landing pad when all joy suddenly drained out of me. A snake jumped and slithered out of the arm full I had. Not having ever seen one in my short existence, it scared the holy livin' stuff out of me. My legs must have been a blur as I ran home to mom and breathlessly told her what happened. She laughed and said it was just a harmless garter snake and was nothing to be afraid of. Yeah, well, she wasn't there to see it and I strongly felt I shouldn't have gone through the experience. Snakes, I decided were something to stay away from.

A few years later in adolescence, courage had entered my veins and garter snakes were game to hunt down and scare girls with. Us neighborhood boys would compare sizes and types and decided that Red Racers were the fastest and scariest as opposed to Yellow Racers or ones that had no stripe at all. Although I don't remember, I think I tortured a few and ran over some with my bike. As I grew older, snakes became uninteresting. 

Now that I'm well into adulthood, they have gone back on my list of things to avoid, especially in the desert. We've lived here in Phoenix for a couple of years and I've felt comfortable in not having seen one, that is until a week or so ago. I was minding my own business, doing something in my studio when my wife started yelling "Snake! Snake!". I didn't think it was going to be a big deal and calmly went to check to out. There, just below our patio door was Diamondback rattler, about eighteen inches long, in the shade trying to get out of the 110 degree sun. Ya know that sensation that comes over you that's called the creeps? Eeeeew. Chills!

Teddy Roosevelt had a deathly fear of rats. I read somewhere he couldn't stand the thought of them. To conquer his phobia, he caught one, cooked and ate it and was never troubled by them again. I thought I might barbecue a rattler and have it on a baguette but I'm not that freaked by them. Besides, my mouth has never watered over rattlesnake meat.

Anyway, even though it gave me a few tingles, I did the manly thing and killed, beheaded and threw it in the garbage.  I'm fairly certain our snake is now in Hell. But now, I've decided to chant, "Scorpions, Spiders, and Snakes, Oh my!", on walks just to keep myself aware.

Integrity

Integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking

Still Here

It's been a while since I posted. I think I may be losing interest in doing a blog. Frankly, I've lost interest in alot of stuff. Maybe I need my meds changed or to evict a demon or two. Enthusiam has taken a holiday and so will I. I've much to blog about but not now. I'll be back later. Probably.