Art Attack Central

Fixing stuff, myself included…

Broken Toe

No, that is not the name of an Indian chief. It’s what happened to my foot, and no, it had nothing to with my mouth this time.

What happened?

Night before last, my friend Abbott stepped on it. It was a hammer toe to begin with; so it was already quite misshapen. No, I do not wear spike heels with pointy toes. Anyway, so now the toe is purple and swollen. While I have a predilection for purple, I do not like it on my toe.

What are you going to do about it?

According to the internet, it will probably heal on it’s own; however, they don’t have a page for both hammer and broken. You can read about broken or hammer, but not broken hammer. Ice, ibuprofen and elevation are the answers. None of which are conducive to spending time on the computer. Well that’s not entirely true, it’s only the ice and elevation that will inhibit my proclivity for spending time here.

Are you whining?

Yes, I’m such a baby when it comes to pain, and quite ruffled by not being able to do exactly what I want, when I want. Hmmm… I’m not only a baby, but a spoiled baby as well. Curses and claws, maybe that’s what I should read about – claw hammers.

“When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.”

–Franklin D. Roosevelt


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

AAAaaaah Running Smoothly

Back online proper. Thank God! Don’t really know what was wrong, but after deleting a couple of programs, running scandisk, disk cleanup and defrag things seem to be okay again. Don’t you hate that? The absolute worst.

What’s new?

Just send off thesis copies to other readers. Now must get student loans deferred one more time. Here’s the new painting. The actual size is 18″ x 24″. This one looks better in “real life” than it does on the net.


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Connection Proplems

How boring! How furstrating! Lucky for me I have good ole Netzero as a backup. So finally I connect; go to my isp (cheap, cheap, cheap) Hawk Comunications, where until now I’ve encountered very few problems. No sign there of any down for service etc. It’s that damn check your password crap. Now we all know our freaking passwords; so I’m stumped. Already tried the old “if in doubt reboot”, NOT. Anyway, if you don’t see me for awhile, it’s because I can’t connect.


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Tuesday Too # 14

Tuesday Too1.) What’s the best thing you did over the holiday weekend?

Very traditional Memorial day picknic yesterday complete with grill and family members. On Sunday I had a friend over for brunch and on Saturday night I had several friends over for cocktails. All in all I had a great weekend so I find it hard to choose.

2.) Who would you want to spend the afternoon/evening with getting the answers to all your questions? What do you really want to know from this person/animal?

My painting instructor would be my person to spend the day with. I have many questions about color, and combinations of color.

3.) Why do you think “there must be more to life than having everything“?

Having everything would be a good place to start, although they say the lottery winners invariably go down the tubes. What is there to want that’s not included in everything. It’s the thing word. People are not things, however much they act as if they were, and you can’t have them really, but you can relate to them. So I would have to say, relationships are the more that make the recipe exquisite. That’s what the “crazy” little dog Jenny found out too.


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Summer Moon

The summer solstice is June 21st.


It’s a day of magic and ritual, and right now it’s lightening outside like crazy, so I’ll have to get back to you on this. Oh hell with it anyway, I just hope it’s not raining in the kitchen! NOT there it goes again; better sign off for now.

Well, the thunder and lightening are farther off now, and we’re twenty minutes closer to the solstice. The longest day, one thing that means is that the long shadows will be much later in the evening. That special light that I love to paint will be later in the day. The solstice means new beginnings and wondrous mystery.

Do you really believe all that stuff on the link?

No, but I do believe there are times for rituals, and the rituals impart the meaning and mystery of the unconscious to the conscious. Rituals enable us to glimpse what is behind the vale if only for a moment. We find ourselves awake and aware that we are awake, in other words conscious of being conscious. It’s like becoming lucid in a dream; only this time it’s becoming lucid in waking life. I’m not trotting out that stuff about “life is a dream/illusion”, although the waking up bit does have that flavor. A heightened sense of awareness (self-awareness) is the key concept, because one must first be aware of oneself, before one can appreciate the value of another awareness.

Where are you going with this?

Once I felt I was the moon, and the moon was me, and it was visual as well as mental. It was along time ago, and I was practicing an eye focus technique from one of Carlos Castenada’s Don Jaun books. If you’ve ever seen those Third Eye books, that’s the kind of letting your eyes change focus I’m referring to. So there I am lying in bed, my head pointing towards the north, and I can see the full moon outside my window. Once my eyes had focused on the moon so that I was seeing two moons, I tried to focus on a spot between the two moons. At that moment the moon and I were one. I was terribly aware of myself and not, and at the same time aware of the moon, and not.

Why are you telling us this?

Because it has to do with the moon, rituals, and magic and I think on the summer solstice we should all perform a little magic.


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Elliott Rules

ElliottElliott rules?

Yes, that’s my cat Elliott, who’s taken over the controls. Do not attempt to adjust your monitor, or try distract him with your mouse. He’s here to tell you about another project.

What project?

If you are among the fortunate few owned by your cat, you are hereby ordered to go participate in the Cat Bloggers Project. Furthermore, you will refrain from all things not cat related, or else you will visited by the kittykat police.

My goodness your cat is so bossy. What else does he want me to do?

He strongly suggests that you visit the new blog luf, where Leah and Judean exchange/rearrange ideas about luf, life, friendship and art.

Will we be seeing more of Elliott?

He’s trying to convince me he should run an advice column here on Thursdays. He does seems to have a firm grip on mouse technology, Jungian shadow chasing, the psychology cattiness, and he has catty-cornered the market on catophobia.


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Tuesday Too # 13

Tuesday Too

1.) Do you have a “little kid” adventure story? Consider the term “little kid” relative to your age.

2.) What issue would you like to see the Supreme Court of the United States grapple with, or perhaps there’s a case you feel they should re-think? Why this particular issue or case?

3.) What is the URL of the most weird site, or the URL of what you consider a dangerous site? If it’s a dangerous site, why do you think it’s dangerous.

4.) You wake-up on death row, and you realize it’s not a dream. Even though there is copy of Death Row for Dummies on your bed, you decide to question the guard. What do you ask, and what advice does he/she give you?

Post your URL in the comment.


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Comment Tag

Okay, I might manage to post something if I can stop playing comment tag with Chad.

Continued from yesterday:

For what seemed along time the farmer just stared at us, the little dog on the rope, and the horse standing behind us. He called out to his wife, “June, come see who’s at the door.” June arrived at the screen door complete with apron, and flour on her nose and hands. “These here two girls are looking for a job”, he said. “Well” she said smiling, “maybe they can help me out in the kitchen a bit, but we can’t pay much of anything”. “Oh no” we said, “we want to work outside with the horse, and we don’t need any money.” “Humph” he said, “I don’t think rightly of girls doing farm work”. Trish piped up, “We won’t be any trouble; we’ll do whatever you tell us”. “I’m not promising anything, but you come on by on Saturday, and I’ll see if there’s anything you can do. But don’t be bringin that dog; Sue don’t usually like dogs.” “Who’s Sue?”, I said. Finally he smiled and said, “That there horse you gots hanging out behind you.”

Trish and I got home an hour later than when we were supposed to. No problem for Trish; her mother worked, and wouldn’t know what time Trish got home. However, I saw my mother waiting out in the yard for me as I came over the hill. I knew she was going to be mad, because I was late. Little kids don’t get it they’re mad, because you scared them, your parents I mean. So into the driveway, I come pulling the, now hungry little dog along with me. “You know your father won’t let you have a dog, but lets hook him up to the clothes line and give him something to eat.”

“Maybe daddy will like this one”, I pleaded with my mother, as we rummaged through the refrigerator for something the dog would like. “Why doesn’t daddy like dogs anyway?” I asked. “When he was little like you he got bitten by a dog, and had to have lots of shots in his stomach.” “In his stomach?” “That’s what happens if they think a dog might have rabies and they can’t find him.” “But this dog doesn’t have rabies.” “Here” she said, “take this out there and give it to him.” I peered down into the bowl, “Are you sure dogs like mashed potatoes?” My mother gave me her most I know everything look, and said, “if they don’t have rabies they like mashed potatoes.”

To be continued…


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

True Confessions

Okay I confess, even though horse racing is not where my heart is, I did end up watching the Preakness at PJ’s Pub. The sun managed to break through the clouds at the last the gasp. War something, or other won. What kind of name is that? Anyway the guy next to me and I were screaming for War something or other, because since Seattle Slew died (May 7, 2002) there’s no triple crown winner living. Well after finding the link for Seattle Slew I now know the name is War Emblem.

Why are you telling us this; we read the news?

Because, I want to tell you a story from when I was a little kid.

My friend Trish and I, (prior post on Trish and little kid stuff with dogs) would walk home from elementary school with “stray” dogs we found at school. We were supposed to ride the bus home, because, not only was it 3 miles home, part of the way was along a highway (it’s the fifties so it was only a two lane highway). I was probably 8 or 9 and didn’t have a dog, and desperately wanted one. At the time I had a cat named Buttons, who was an unaltered male cat. Buttons wanted nothing to do with me; his sole occupation, besides working at the KittyKat Super Market, was sniffing out where the female cats in heat were hiding. Mostly I think they were hiding in the meat packing room at the KittyKat Super Market, but Buttons was so busy at work; he didn’t have time to think along those lines. He was mainly in charge of the produce section and had little contact with the meat department folks. Anyway this was long before I realized I was a cat person, rather than a dog person, if you know what I mean. So, on one of these long walks home dragging someone’s poor dog behind us, we decided to take a short cut across a farm, which would cut off probably a mile, from what seemed at the time a very long journey. While crossing the farm we encounter a huge black horse, wandering aimlessly about. Being astute little kids, and “girls who by their very nature” love horses, we made friends with the horse. We patted her and prodded her along up toward the farm house, where we knocked loudly on the front door, and asked in our most respectful voices if we could have jobs on the farm.

When I think back on this I’m astounded that we did what we did. Those were the times, when being naive and innocent could get you a very long way if you didn’t get into trouble. We never got into trouble; we got a very long way indeed. To be continued…

I finished my red pepper painting today, and I’ll take some pictures of it tomorrow, when I have access to my Dad’s digital camera. I feel pretty pleased with the painting, although when I first started it I felt like, “OMG! have I forgotten how to paint?” I’ll try to finish up on this horse/dog story tomorrow.


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Where the Heart is

What exactly makes your heart swell and you eyes spill over with tears of joy? Sometimes I think I know. Sometimes it’s a dream. I can tell you where it’s not. The Preakness, although I’m sorry that it’s raining for those folks who dream of horse racing. The Inner Harbor, while it’s a lovely place, it’s not the “real Baltimore”. It’s no accident the TV series Homicide was set in Baltimore, although that’s another story. I like Baltimore for the small town community atmosphere, within a big city environment (crime statistics not included).

So where’s your heart?

I’m getting to that, and I’m getting to that because of an inspiring post titled “Sweet World” by Jeneane Sessum. She said, “Everywhere there are people with hearts open.”

What does that mean to you?

It’s a place within each of us. If the whole world lived in a place such as this. The vulnerability would overpower the aggression and peace would take her rightful place on center stage.

That’s quite a mouthful.

I know, and for once I don’t have my foot in it! It’s the vulnerability one experiences when allowing one’s self to fall in love no matter what the consequences. Perhaps, we don’t allow ourselves to fall in love; it just happens, and we are powerless to prevent the vulnerable state we find ourselves in. Power and vulnerablility are odd companions; unwilling bedfellows sharing the same pillow. Bedfellows, now that’s an odd combination as well; are they gay?

Of course they’re not gay!

Okay then, I’m getting off topic here.

Getting off on, or from what?

Having an open heart, and the vulnerability, that openness per se entails is a key element in being alive. So I guess I’m saying it’s dead people who are antagonistic, or more precisely, it’s frightened people who cause the boat to rock in such a way that we may all be capsized at any moment.

I’m not sure I’m following you.

My heart is not always available to me. Sometimes I don’t know where my heart is. What does that mean? It means that openness or joy come unexpectedly, and if I embrace that openness as she passes by, I am capable of going along and experiencing a better world. Openness invites openness in others. So when I catch a glimpse of her in me or you I hold on for dear life. This is a place where solitude is shared; however, odd that may be.

“Children love to be alone because alone is where they know themselves, and where they dream.”

–Roger Rosenblatt


“Designated driver, on the information highway.”