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.

Patience

The virtuous stuff  that makes you patient, the stuff that sloshes around some place in our brains, waiting fluid, or whatever it's called, has been all but   neutralized by adrenaline within me. I hate to wait. I've been that way since I was a kid and life for me has been a series of speeding from one event to the next and having to anxiously wait at each stop anticipating when I could move on. I don't know why I'm wired that way. It really isn't much fun. I'm sure that life would be better if I'd take the time to slow and smell something. I don't want to. I'd rather move along and take the smells with me. I've grown better though as I've aged but my wife must continually tell me that we're not in a hurry.

I've been fortunate that I haven't been ticketed much for speeding. I usually drive over the limit wherever I go. However, I'm invariably slowed by something in the way. More often than I like, I get behind a school bus, truck or someone who doesn't care about my self-imposed life schedule. Traveling down the highway, staring at a semi's rear wall of sheet metal is such a joy and, if traffic is slow in my lane, I'll switch to find the new lane slowing and watching cars I was behind pass me. I must wait, until life lets me by.

The supermarket is no exception. I'll get in the shortest line and someone ahead will cause a delay as  other lines move on efficiently. I remember once I thought I was lucky and found a lady in the express lane with no one behind her. I stepped up to her just as the cashier anounced the purchase sum. I'd be on my way in just a few minutes. The woman pulled out a coin purse and proceeded to pay in change. As she  counted, each click of a coin against the counter pierced my ears and seconds slowed to match her pace. I was watching grass grow. It took forever. I've decided that whatever line I get in, no matter where, my presence will slow it. Fast food is for others. I must be cursed and I'm certain Providence is behind it all. Too bad I'm a slow learner.

We met the lady I've drawn in a small gallery in Hailsham, England. She was chatting with the proprietor and having tea. I was immediately struck by her bright blue eyes. Her blue tweed coat and beret seemed to make them glow. I asked if I could take her photo. She obliged and posed as you see her. Her name was Anne.

A delightful gal who we learned,  bicycled all over France in her youth. I'm sure she turned some heads and got a few jealous looks. She talked and talked, and talked some more until time started to warp. I had to get on to the next unknown event. We finally pulled away as her words clung to us and continued our meandering through the town. We saw her later, crossing a mall court to a shop. I'd have hated to stand in line behind her. She probably carried alot of coins.

Ups and Downs

.
All that I've found through the ups and the downs
Is that I'd have it no other way
Life in the raw is both fragile and strong
It's both lovely and ugly the same
Who can attest that when they're at their best
Oh their worst is still crouching close behind
It's coming to peace with the darkness in me
That allows the true light to shine

So let it go for we are still far from home
Though you try and try to escape
To live and to love will always be dangerous
But it's better than playing it safe

We are composed of a symphony of notes
Every life is music to His ears
I'll play my melody be it haunting be it sweet
Unashamed of what anyone might fear

So when the load breaks your back and your will
You must still keep your heart in the game
So let it go when it don't feel like home
When inside is your only escape
To live and to love will always be dangerous
But would you want it any other way?

Kendall Payne

People

There are only two kinds

of people in the world,

those who put people

in two categories

and those who don't.

_