This box is new -about a month old, I suppose. It’s entitled, “The Lies I told You; The Lies you told Me”. (click to scroll)

16 souls

The title of this piece is “16 Souls.” There are 8 individual mini-pictures inside the box. Each is collaged, sewn, and backed with muslin. I really like these mini pictures…I’ve wondered if presenting them as a group like this, makes them less awesome somehow. . . LIke, if i posted each one individually as a separate work, would they stand out more? Maybe so.

Anyhow, I made this box awhile ago. I have always liked it, but didn’t post it as part of my body of work because I couldn’t get the shots quite right. Like my photos of the photos weren’t “professional” enough. Since retiring and pulling back from galleries, i no longer care about that. 😁 So here are my unprofessional pictures of that box i never posted.

May something-or-other (close to June), 2023.

I was standing in my (not my) kitchen with my mother. the mood was very gray-dark. resigned. final. bleak…whatever-you get the idea.

My mom was leaving and said she didn’t think she could come back again. She wanted me to know that the world was changing, that I might not recognize it for awhile, and she asked what my plans were for going forward “given the situation” - and she waved her hands around indicating her immediate surroundings (my home) …like there was something wrong with my situation.

“I’ll be fine, ma. I have plenty…I’ll simply move forward on the current body of work.” I took her hand and ushered her into my studio which was mostly empty except for my totally unspectacular Brother sewing machine sitting on a table at the back of the room - the floor around it littered with scraps - And 2 floor-to-ceiling sculptural dress forms were affixed to the wall.

(wow! …did i do those???!!! and I knew that I had.)

Upon closer inspection I could see that both pieces were actually flat, and only looked 3-D because of the values and angularity of the individual planes. And the pieces were made out of all my old stuff—my old photos and contact sheets, my paintings, all reconfigured and stitched together to make a “fabric”, then cut into pattern-like sections, and sewn into shapes (dresses/not-dresses.)

All the old stuff was like the bones and desiccated blood of my life. and if you actually looked at the work, you could see places where the planes could be shifted/opened and something else revealed underneath…

I woke up and wondered if I could actually make those. And i think that I can…it does certainly solve the problem of what to do with the hundreds of prints I still have. lol.

but then that would mean i would have to stop painting kitty cats, and take a break on my Fancy Hat Fashion show… so we’ll see.

old shoot...

This pix were taken by Joni Kabana in 2005.

That is Joni in the last shot….i think we have both changed a wee bit. :)

ANTHONY HOPKINS

′′Let go the people who are not prepared to love you. This is the hardest thing you will have to do in your life and it will also be the most important thing. Stop having hard conversations with people who don't want change.

Stop showing up for people who have no interest in your presence. I know your instinct is to do everything to earn the appreciation of those around you, but it's a boost that steals your time, energy, mental and physical health.

When you begin to fight for a life with joy, interest and commitment, not everyone will be ready to follow you in this place. This doesn't mean you need to change what you are, it means you should let go of the people who aren't ready to accompany you.

If you are excluded, insulted, forgotten or ignored by the people you give your time to, you don't do yourself a favor by continuing to offer your energy and your life. The truth is that you are not for everyone and not everyone is for you.

That's what makes it so special when you meet people who reciprocate love. You will know how precious you are.

The more time you spend trying to make yourself loved by someone who is unable to, the more time you waste depriving yourself of the possibility of this connection to someone else.

There are billions of people on this planet and many of them will meet with you at your level of interest and commitment.

The more you stay involved with people who use you as a pillow, a background option or a therapist for emotional healing, the longer you stay away from the community you want.

Maybe if you stop showing up, you won't be wanted. Maybe if you stop trying, the relationship will end. Maybe if you stop texting your phone will stay dark for weeks. That doesn't mean you ruined the relationship, it means the only thing holding it back was the energy that only you gave to keep it. This is not love, it's attachment. It's wanting to give a chance to those who don't deserve it. You deserve so much, there are people who should not be in your life.

The most valuable thing you have in your life is your time and energy, and both are limited. When you give your time and energy, it will define your existence.

When you realize this, you begin to understand why you are so anxious when you spend time with people, in activities, places or situations that don't suit you and shouldn't be around you, your energy is stolen.

You will begin to realize that the most important thing you can do for yourself and for everyone around you is to protect your energy more fiercely than anything else. Make your life a safe haven, in which only ′′compatible′′ people are allowed.

You are not responsible for saving anyone. You are not responsible for convincing them to improve. It's not your work to exist for people and give your life to them! If you feel bad, if you feel compelled, you will be the root of all your problems, fearing that they will not return the favours you have granted. It's your only obligation to realize that you are the love of your destiny and accept the love you deserve.

Decide that you deserve true friendship, commitment, true and complete love with healthy and prosperous people. Then wait and see how much everything begins to change. Don't waste time with people who are not worth it. Change will give you the love, the esteem, happiness and the protection you deserve.

Kitchen with My Dark Vanessa

I listen to a lot of audiobooks. I enjoy them…usually they’re a good yarn while I’m painting my kitchen. But the one I’m listening to now? Holy mother of Jesus. It’s excruciating.

The title of the book is “My Dark Vanessa.” And it’s a story about sexual abuse, told in the first person. It flips back and forth chronologically…Vanessa as a 15 year old schoolgirl who has a crush on her 42 year old English teacher, and Vanessa now -as an adult in her 30’s.

To me, the absolute best part of this book is how it shows the emotional complexity of her situation. She sees this as romance, and she sees herself as having volition. When what’s really happening is that she is being groomed for sex. I totally get how immersed she is in the romance of it all -how she interprets his small touches as intimacy, how his compliments make her feel special. At one point he tells her that her hair reminds him of the color of maple leaves. And it all feels so sweet and innocent, his comment makes her glow. Then she goes home and repeats it to her mom, and it just sounds stupid! When her mom asks who said that to her, she also knows enough to lie about who said it.

When she goes to spend the night, she’s packed a black nighty (what she thinks an adult woman would wear…your first sexual experience is, afterall, is a rite of passage, to adulthood)…but he gives her cotton pajamas with little strawberries on them. You know, the kind you had when you were 6.
Promises her he’ll stay dressed, and then starts touching her.
…for everything he does, he asks permission. Before he takes her top off, he asks if it’s OK, and before pushing her underwear over and going for the goods. Then after awhile, he starts asking for permission AFTER he’s already done the thing he’s asking about. and you can just feel how this has gone…she said “yes” to one little thing, and now “yes” is the presumed answer to everything that follows.

Him saying: “We won’t go further than that right now.”
Only to wake up a couple hours later and find him naked next to her. Her exclaiming, “OH! Ok…wow! OK…” and what follows is ONLY difficult sex scene I have EVER read in ANY book in my ENTIRE life. Her feelings of guilt for finding him disgusting, for not wanting to touch him. Then the way she tries to stall the moment of penetration. the way she moves away from him…and finally, the way he doesn’t give 2 shits what she’s going though and forces himself in anyway. “It’s OK if it hurts; it won’t hurt forever.” Oh god how I hate him.

I find myself wishing so hard that I could swoop down from where I stand (on my ladder, painting my ceiling) and pick her up and bring her anywhere but there. That I could give her cookies and coffee, and just listen for awhile.

There is a bit at the beginning of the book -a disclaimer, I suppose- where the author states that “this is a work of fiction.” It’s not fiction. Not a chance. I mean, I’m sure the characters’ identities where switched out, and the spaces and situations changed. But it’s hard to get around how spot-on this is.

I’m not even halfway done with this book…not sure what’s going to happen, but I have the distinct feeling that “justice” is not forthcoming. Maybe it’s also not possible.

Anyhow, we’ll see where it goes!

So far my previously white kitchen is looking like this:

It’s a serious mess, still pots, pans, paint cans, brushes and crap all over the place, but I am beginning to see where it’s going to end up, and I like it. I need one new piece of furniture and to have multiple lights installed…will take pix that a…

It’s a serious mess, still pots, pans, paint cans, brushes and crap all over the place, but I am beginning to see where it’s going to end up, and I like it. I need one new piece of furniture and to have multiple lights installed…will take pix that are more representative of the space when i get more done…which won’t happen until the virus blows over.

Quarantine

I rarely post pix of myself here (or anywhere else for that matter) so I know I'll be super embarrassed the instant I post this. Whatever...just w h a t e v e r r r r r r r r r. i need to get over myself already, and I did a MIGHTY fine job of coloring my hair last night.

self1.jpg

I've had this idea that my hair color should match my age, so I usually go very pastel. But hey guess what...I got nowhere to go, and nobody to please but myself...so fuck pastel.

In a way, I think this period of seclusion is going to be good for me….like it’s a time when I get to let certain self-imposed restrictions fall away.

Yurt 2019

Well. Not what I expected.

I suppose I should start by saying that I went with certain goals in mind. Maybe my goals were set too high, but I don’t think so…Actually, maybe they were set too high in light of the circumstances.

Yurt location: Sandwiched in between 2 streets on the north and south, and families with small children on either side. Directly (like feet) behind my yurt: an electrical box. Nothing exactly wrong with the kids on either side…they were just kids, which means LOUD. And hey, guess what! I might be able to deal with some of the noise, if it weren’t for the time of day.

I always wonder what people who are up being noisy at the ungodly time of 7 AM, would think if I made the exact same noises they did, but @ 2 AM or even midnight. They would be very offended. And yet, they think nothing of the noise when it’s in the morning. Folks? 7 AM is too EARLY for that kind of noise.

Weather: The first day = RAIN. Lots of it. The second day: rain, intermittently. So I decided to go out and walk around a bit. In actuality, I walked around A LOT. I walked all over Fort Stevens. It was one of the things I’d really wanted to do there, as the buildings are quite dramatic. But some of the buildings were no longer there, and the oddest buildings were roped off. I did get a good walk in, though.

I then toured Astoria. And all told for the day, I ended up walking more than my body wanted to, and my plantar fasciitis kicked up. Oh well, right? But it means I never got to the beach.

My kitty sitter, Gina, was not as communicative as usual and said that Jinju “made appearances” but I took it to mean he was mostly in hiding. She also said that she didn’t have her phone with her to take any pix of them…but??? she is pretty attached to her phone, so I ended up worrying about the cats.

On Wednesday I received texts from 3 colleagues and 1 student. (meaning I chose a time too close to the quarter for my excursion) AND . . . well, maybe I should stop complaining.

The good stuff: I got a lot done INSIDE the yurt. I wrote a bit…I thought a lot and came to some good conclusions. And I didn’t miss the game as much as I thought I would. I also made friends with a very fat squirrel, and met some friendly people.

I need to return to Astoria and stay in a motel in town if I want to get a better feel for the city. I’m still thinking of moving there, but have more doubts about it this time than last. And next time I stay in a yurt, I need to book more in advance so I can get a better location. I also think I would like to have a wilder experience, and should think about going somewhere less controlled.

WTH is going on in the top left photo? Never happened before! I suppose something happened inside my phone. the photo on the right: I had a mirror in my yurt that had been melted in the middle. I had some fun with it!

Another year is underway. I spent the summer working on non-art things. I painted the other side of the house (it looks awesome), got a lot of work done on the garage, gardened and am still reaping the last little rewards from that. There is so much to do here! and no time at all to do it. I get tired more quickly than I used to and by the end of the work day, I am totally beat. Tonight I got home from work, sat down, and . . .

sat.

yup. that’s about it.

I went to the gym on Wednesday for my weekly date with the best trainer on the planet! In the middle of our session he was trying to explain a new movement in which I was supposed to poke my chest out at the end of a rope pull. I made some comment about breasts poking out -just being silly- but my comment broke open a conversation about the Kavenaugh/Ford situation. I wasn’t surprised by his opinion. And though I do know that losers exist who don’t see it like I do, I’m fortunate not to know a single one of them.

Christine Blasey Ford is believable beyond the shadow of a doubt. What she’s gone through —having to sit in that room surrounded by old conservative men -being judged by them the entire time- having her story and her life splashed across all news fora, the embarrassing, mean-spirited behavior of our tacky AF President, mocking her in a public gathering… Really, I feel so little allegiance to this country right now. …I’ve now heard that it is likely that Kavenaugh will be confirmed. what does this even say about our country?

I like Cory Booker and I hope he runs for President.

time passing

my mom died this morning at 11:15 AM.  the feelings are not describable, so i won't try.  just to say: i had the best mom on the planet; i don't know if i would have become an adult at all without her.

my mom, dorothy smith dudley.  in her 20s

my mom, dorothy smith dudley.  in her 20s

mark, georgia, mom, me & axel (our cocker spaniel)

mark, georgia, mom, me & axel (our cocker spaniel)

my mom in her 40s

my mom in her 40s

Me 'n' Georgia are the only family members left.  RIP, mom.  I love you to pieces.  Don't forget you promised you'd be there when I kick the bucket.  If u leave me there alone, I swear I will come back and delete this entry.  :)