You heard me...

and you know exactly what I am talking about.

This morning I had to keep from descending into a fit of rage due to a stupid sheet. At one point having one corner draped over my head like a hood in order to stretch it out to create the perfect fold I caught my reflection in the full length mirror and had to laugh, thankfully removing the mounting tension between myself and the unfortunate bedding. Any further and I might have torn it to shreds with my teeth.

So many things in life are like folding a fitted sheet.

1. It is always a challenge
2. It never works the same way twice
3. It can drive you a little crazy.
4. It can give you a huge sense of relief when it actually works.

And I have to admit that this particular monday morning the sheet probably represented more of life than just simple bedding. In every attempt to folding I was probably directing other frustrations and responsibilities at the task, at one point actually wadding it up into a ball thinking that I should just stuff it in a bag.

But I wouldn't be satisfied with that and...

life can not be stuffed into a bag.

I do think that the mundane tasks when piled upon pile can give one the impression that there is no end in sight, or like folding a fitted sheet, is just too damn hard. And sometimes I really struggle at just moving forward with the little things.

I like the big things.

And I am a great starter and a not-so-great finisher and right now the things that have been started far outweigh the things finished which makes me a little crazy...

because I also need closure...

which is why wadding up a fitted sheet just won't do.

And, for as much as the bravado of accomplishing the "bigger" things brings satisfaction, it is the culmination of all the little things that turn into the big things. It all adds up.

But I have a hard time celebrating the little things, and when they add up to bigger things I usually just chalk that up as par for the course not giving myself the due credit for the sum total. Instead I look toward all that is left to do, or what hasn't been done.

Do you do this? Do you forget to celebrate the things that you do, no matter how small? Do you forget that the culmination of the hour-by-hour, day-by-day, adds up to a life?

And for me it prompts the question...

what's next?

After dropping off the paintings at home the rest of the day Bryan and I spent playing hooky from chores and responsibilities, choosing instead to brunch in Bethesda, and take in a late movie. By the end of the day I was feeling much better...

and able to consider the question.

9:30 am,set up was easy, although I have to admit Bryan pounded all the nails and hung the work, while I pretty much just decided where they would go, and hung the title cards and artist statement.

10:30 am, back at home for some final details, namely printing a title sign for the show with my name in letters that seem all too large to me, but I concede to Bryan who seems to think it is necessary. I am great about promoting other people's work, but a big sign with my name on it is a little tough for me.

12:00, back at the gallery to hang the sign and have some lunch(they have a yummy menu). Chad, the gallery director, comments on the work, how well "designed the show is", and seems overall...pretty pleased. And, he likes the sign.;-)

So we stay and have a fabulous lunch and a scandalous bottle of spanish red wine with our lunch as I watch a few folk already meandering in and out of the gallery viewing my work.

What a weird feeling.

A waitress comments to me about the work and mentions her favorite. The collection has been hanging for just a few hours.

Very weird feeling.

But with the final sips of a fine spanish red, I am relishing a moment that is a bit of a surprise. The actual reception is not until the 20th and that will be another day to celebrate. It is great to see the work on white walls, in a space that people may view it, and maybe...

maybe...

they will be inspired.

In light of this show it was time to launch a proper artist site. Eventually it will have a functioning store option for the limited editions, but for now it gives a glimpse of the work in the show, and other stuff. Still, it is pretty cool. Thanks to Bryan for working his butt off to make it happen. Such a guy.
Check out my new art site here.

med students,
web designers,
and trapeze artists?

a place called Blue House.

Today I was putting in my hours at this favorite free wi-fi café along with a very interesting cross section of baltimore's coffee drinkers. And I wasn't kidding about the trapeze artist... apparently there is a "trapeze school" somewhere in town... I couldn't help but overhear.

But the cross section is indicative of Mr. Florida's "creative class"... me included. As I look around I imagine what stories these people have, what they do for a living, and what are they working on right now.

Would they imagine the same of me?

I am working on stuff for the show while snacking on vegan chips and naked juice. I am finishing up all those details I mentioned yesterday, marveling that I can sit at a café and get work done. If this were ten years ago I would be scrambling to the printer, running around town, but now I can simply upload a file and have the materials I need delivered to my door in a couple of days. This is not only cost effective (can you say, gas prices?) but is great if you are a last minute type. Things that would take a few months to produce can be done in a week. I finished a portfolio book and am anxious to see how the printing turned out. Its wild.

It is also nice to get out of the house. I have realized again how much I need to do that on a regular basis. I have always loved working from home, but "home" can close in on you especially if you are constantly reminded of chores and projects that need tending at every turn. And the best perk coming up to Baltimore is lunch with Bryan.

So, today it is Blue House. Tomorrow, my house, that's the real circus.

bummer.

One of the more prominent Bourbon Democrats was born in Woodstock which gave me a glimmer of hope, but alas he was born before THE Woodstock, and so no correlation could be made.

No, a Bourbon Democrat was a "conservative liberal", who's convictions lay within capitalism, anti-protectionism (pro-free trade), and opposed imperialism (invading other countries). This segment of the Dems stood for limited government, fought for the gold standard and against government corruption.

Nothing about large quantities of strong drink. Although Woodrow Wilson was a Bourbon Democrat I doubt that he was an alcoholic. A graduate of Princeton, he created the League of Nations and won the Nobel peace prize, among other notable things.

And Grover Cleveland was a Bourbon Democrat too, but in contrast was a "conservative", had no college education but didn't do any favors for women's suffrage either, believing that women's roles had been determined by a higher power (sounds like bourbon talking there).

But what's in a name?

A term that would not have done ANY party any political favors if it had existed during prohibition, it was used from 1876 to 1904.

A branch broke off into a more, shall we say, "extremist" (southern) wing called the Redeemers, who opposed the Freedmen, Carpetbaggers, and Skalawags (a trio coalition of Radical Republicans...

(not to be confused with the Liberal Republicans...

or Moderate Republicans, like Lincoln the first republican-Republican president).

In a very complex Reconstruction era, Redeemers denounced high taxes and high state debts, cut government spending, lowered politicians' salaries; scaled back public aid to railroads and large corporations which all sounds pretty good except in a devastated post-civil war the money had to come from somewhere...

The FIRST income tax was implemented by Lincoln, along with printing money (yea, to pay for the war) but I digress....

oh yea, and they (the Redeemers) had, shall we say, a "conservative reaction" to Reconstruction, ...ahem.

So much for "redemption".

In the words of Inigo Montoya, "....that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

So I guess I could be an "unredeemed" Bourbon Democrat. At least for one day. Except I'm a woman, so maybe not.

Cracks me up that a "Bourbon Democrat" was lumped in with "Redeemer". I mean really, if you were a conservative Christian voting in the bible belt, which one would you identify with, not to mention vote for if you went by name alone. And if you were a Christian woman... well you couldn't vote anyway.

I admit cherry-pickin through history sort of takes the names out of the context of the times. And of course as contemporary folk today with greater technologies, a zillion channels and networks that can communicate higher thought, more education, and higher sensibilities we don't take things out of context...

nah...

Don't you love the name Skalawag? Or Carpetbagger? You wouldn't see today's version of the Republican party putting those names on their signs to get elected.

Maybe tomorrow I will be a Skalawag. Sounds fun and sort of pirate-ish. Arhhh!

And the reasons for the lack of blog of late is because I have always written about what was at the forefront of my brain. The blog for me, has been a quasi-morning pages recommended as a brain dump by author Julie Cameron in her book, Artist's Way. In her world this tool designed for breaking writer's block, is never meant to be read by anyone, but is just a vehicle for clearing out the proverbial cobwebs of the mind to achieve a clearer state in which your art (writing or otherwise) becomes unfettered. And although I have used this tool a little differently, my "brain dump" being inflicted on whatever poor soul chooses to read, it still works the way Julie intended.

Herein lies the problem.

What has been at the forefront of my brain just about every morning of late is of the political nature.

And me thinks the world could use one less political rant.

However, what I am left with in the silence is the equivalent of mental constipation. The problem with Julie Cameron's ritual is that it really works and so left undone has made me less affective in other areas in my art. The thoughts that cycle through my brain these days look like pinballs bouncing recklessly against one another and would probably make for some volatile blog. But at some point spillage must insue in order for me to continue to be the sane lovely woman that I was instead of the woman that my husband is currently living with, not to mention quieting the conversations I currently have with myself in the shower.

Once a mildly concerned citizen who shunned the news most nights, I have now turned into a news junkie and all the reading I have been doing could win me some sort of junior amateur historian award.

or at the very least I could design a trivial pursuit game with political content.

Hey, that's an idea probably good money in that.

At any rate I am on a quest to learn some of the interesting details that brought this country to a two party system against the original will of the founding fathers. Especially since the system in its latest form looks to implode removing the will of the people through the evolution of political devices that have accumulated over the decades. Super-delegates, anyone?

And who completely understands the concept of the electoral college? I went to college and I don't quite get this "indirect element in the process of electing".... thank you wikipedia.

A host of things interest me at this point as I delve into the nature of the dozens of parties this country has had, and I have to say the "need to know" parallels the days of my initial interest in Jesus (some call conversion).

After all we do not inherit our faith.

So we can not, in good conscience, inherit our party.

I had never considered myself a party person and when I went to register I had to fill in the blank, another somewhat "indirect element in the process of electing". Although I think it is interesting that thousands of good folk are currently taking the time and making the effort to re-register their party affiliation, being forced to function in the two party system, they are jumping sides to have a voice in the primaries. Is it covert political strategy, or conviction. Quite a statement.

Looking at the history of the evolution of parties may not inform my vote because I really just look at the candidates, but it may help me understand why people align themselves in such passionate ways to the current parties. I am confounded by the concept of voting your party just because its your party. How many people truly know where "their party" came from? Then again there are a lot of Christians that don't have a clue about the reformation and that most of what they currently practice is thanks to that good Augustinian Monk, Martin Luther, giving us some pretty good reading (the bible) in 1534.

And claiming political affiliation, in a like fashion I would have a hard time calling myself a "protestant". The world seems to be at a new threshold of breaking out of some of these "denominations" both political and religious.

The spirit is larger than the containers that hold them.

And so it should be.

So in light of my new quandry, that being the need to blog, the need to be an informed citizen, and the need to have something to call myself regarding political affiliation when asked at parties...

I am a Know-Nothing.

Don't laugh, it was an actual party. And although I really (really, really) DON'T hold the convictions of this party, being that at that time(1850) in our country the huge fear from protestants was that Irish and German Catholics were going to take over the country, and were wholy anti-immigration (can you imagine, by 1850 already), I DO like their motto when pressed regarding their political activities,

"I know nothing".

So today I will be a Know Nothing.

Of course being just one of the many components that make up the fabric of this country's parties, the Know Nothings merged into what we now today call republicans.

I think tomorrow I will be a Bourbon Democrat.

Of course one of the first things that triggered it was a trip to a shopping mall.

Over consumption aside, there were other things that popped up to make us take note that this country has got to make some adjustments. I can be patriotic as the next person, but there are a few things that have happened in our culture and specifically this country that range from mildly disturbing to morally alarming.

For instance...

Last night I got an email from Daniel's college. A notice sent out to all of the parents of MICA students that there had been a "road rage" shooting on the MICA campus and two people were dead. Thankfully they were not students, but it still made my blood go cold. It happened at roughly six oclock the night before just minutes after Bryan was picking Daniel up to bring him home due to illness.

For the first time in my life I am thankful for the flu.

Right now Daniel is sleeping soundly in his bed, while I make chicken soup, pump him full of orange juice, and nurse him back to health. All the while being grateful that he is alive.

As a country we are not plagued by internal war, and yet we have things like the Virginia Tech shooting, Illinois, and Columbine. What is up with that? There seems to be an underlying virus in our culture that is making people insane, or at the very least, cold and heartless.

It seems systemic doesn't it?

Maybe it starts with rules and laws that were originally meant to protect us that ultimately are hurting us. Being free to be an "individual" has mutated into an unhealthy focus on self that somehow has eroded away the good things that we use to have.

Laws to help the innocent have become lawsuit opportunities.
Technology that is supposed to improve our lifestyle can remove the need to be civil and friendly.

In an average day a person can face numerous situations (motorist honking their horn, a rude teller, recorded phone messages) that by the end of the day can make you feel less than human.

Today I feel that way.

On a third try to obtain a last little piece of required paperwork for our Bahamas registration, I sat at my bank waiting my turn to see someone about a "letter of reference". On the second try after filling out a long menacing form they had issued me a cryptic note with my bank balance on it, and charged me ten dollars. I sent this off and got a reply from my rep in the Bahamas, that they didn't need numbers, just a letter that basically said I was a good customer at my bank.

Ok, seems reasonable. I HAVE been a customer for fifteen years...

So sitting down with a guy at my bank I explained that the letter they gave me was not quite what the bahamian gov't needed, something simpler...

No way. Not on your life. They don't do that.

"Surely this kind of letter is not a problem... I have been a customer for fifteen years..."

Apparently that would require an "opinion" which they legally can not do.

"OK, but this is what the bahamian gov't requires and people do this all the time so... what's up with that?"

The conversation didn't last long but the jist was "so sorry, it sucks to be you". And what I really had a problem with was the attitude in which it was delivered. The particular bank associate that I was dealing with seemed to relish the fact that he couldn't help me. Almost in a punishing way. In fact I got a sense that he didn't want to help me before I even opened my mouth. Anti-helpful.

Which brings me back to my original point(seemed like a rabbit trail didn't it?)

Have we lost the ability to be kind to one another? Has all the hoops that we have to jump through just to have the privilege to live what we call the american dream turned it into a nightmare that keeps us from being human?

Not blaming the associate for the restriction that was out of his hands, but royally pissed off at him for the condescending/almost cruel way he treated me, I left the bank on the verge of tears. Frustrated, hurt and really really mad, I walked over to the grocery store to pick up some groceries. Picking through the produce section and wondering what this world was coming to I filled my basket and headed to the checkout.

I got Virgil.

Virgil is a middle aged, african american man who has worked the checkout and bagged groceries there forever, and he always has something nice to say. Always, without exception. He took my groceries and started his totaling. Still feeling rattled but determined to recover from being pissed and not take it out on someone else I smiled and mustered a..." How are you today Virgil?"

His reply...

"Super-Fantastic! How are you today?"

"Better now".

He helped put my groceries in my backpack (because I was walking home) giving me the heaviest items first, the light items for me to carry in my hands. Then with a big smile he wished me a good day.

God bless the Virgils of the world.