this little piggy went to the special market next to UCLA

My boys met their half brother for the first time this week. He and his mother traveled here from Boston with no other plan than to see us. (well, we are going to Disneyland and Legoland and any other overstimulating pricey land we can hit this week) They also have a half sister in LA and two younger brothers just outside of Cleveland. for this week, we were only able to get the four together.

All that have come forward are either single moms by choice (SMC) or two mommy families.
i don't find it odd that we are all women raising these children or that we are all of "advanced maternal age" either. for me, it feels like the natural progression of science and society. i don't mean that as a slam to men either, as i am raising two of them myself. i have a fondness for males in a way that makes me feel like they are largely misunderstood and perhaps next in line for a revolutionary shift. renaissance rebellion...or something along those lines, but i don't want to go off on that tangent just right yet.

it has been profoundly humbling to suddenly find that your very unique children are not so because here you have just watched another little guy tilt his head to one side the same way, or make that squeaky noise when they're really happy or say "mommy" in the exact same tone. their heads smell the same...THEIR FEET ARE EXACTLY THE SAME! when i hug these other children they feel like they are mine and i'm altogether taken by how protective i've immediately become. the affection has run rampant and even these little guys are all over eachother. falling into a big heap on the living room floor.

as much as i wish to scrub away that part of my sons with my own nurturing, i cannot deny that mother nature has a greater will. whomever this man is, donor 3442, he sure can make some fantastic little creatures.

oh and the women i have bonded with over these wee beans...well, they are just as extraordinary. fate has a way of kicking my ass...i could blather on about that but i'm tired and have much to do before we hit the Happiest Place On Earth tomorrow.

no soap, dope....radio!

This is the best thing ever. one of my sons has suddenly taken to telling jokes. they make absolutely no sense, but damn, are they funny. so much so that he has trouble getting them out. i did this today to send to Nana and i can't stop watching it. i know what she's gonna say....i just know it and i think so too....

Vogue Bambini

how cute are my boys? David got sand in his eye and Wyatt was bending in close to try and see it...and it was making David laugh. [snap] and it made page 141 of the May/June 2008 issue in a Ralph Lauren editorial. oh, and that little girl looks just like Drew Barrymore, don't cha think? never paid this much for a magazine though.

what-ever. listen to me....sounding like all those hideous stage moms i meet in those over crowded rooms. i swear, if they never get a call again, i'd be right fine with that. this will go in a keepsake box i have for them. [dusts off palms in a quick criss-cross motion] enough.

question everything

i'm shopping in Kohl's and i notice a whole line women's clothing called Sag Harbor. i want to meet the brain trust behind that one? i mean, i realize this is probably a real place on the map, but women's clothing? really? this is especially cutting if you happen to be over 40....somewhere there is a group of marketing execs laughing themselves silly....

under the covers....

music....music....how i love it so. can someone tell me where i've heard Brett Dennen's, "Ain't No Reason", out in the world? a movie perhaps? i just can't stop playing it lately. felt the same way about Amos Lee....and Ingrid Michaelson! where did she come from? "The Way I Am" is damn catchy. when i find a good song i swear it's magical and healing and somehow restorative to my core. anyway, that's not what i wanted to ramble about.....

someone mentioned covers. i married a musician so i know a thing or two about these matters. (although i think i like music more than she does) and covers, well, that's a tough call. ya have to have a special something to release a cover. could be the arrangement or the quality of the vocal but either way, it has to be beyond the original lest it fall flat.....

so tonight...at this, the midnight hour...i give you the cover mix blasting in my headphones.

What are some of your favorite covers?

Bumper crop

Last year we hacked the crap out of the plumb tree for the sake of props...a display project. this year we have a bumper crop of fruit. i had no idea what a colossal pain in the arse it is to make plumb jam, but now that i think of it, it's not usually found on the shelf at the local piggly-wiggly, now is it?

things to remember II

Driving down the Las Vegas strip...at night...pointing out the castle! the big city!



"look boys! the pyramid and sphinx."




david turns to wyatt and says, "hey wyatt! the pyramid stinks!"

*

Rob Brezsny is my prophet....

This landed in my mailbox just about twenty seconds ago. Freewillastrology is a must read for those of us that like to have a little light in an otherwise gray forecast.

"I have a dream that in the New World, we will add an eleventh
commandment to the standard ten: Thou shalt not bore God."

Amen brother

oh father....

this is one part memory, one part ode because father's day is always bittersweet.....

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
Omar Khayyam

He came calling in the wee hours of the morning. Or shall i say in our mourning...awakened at 4 am to the raspy sounds of fluid rising. Sounds kind of like a coffee maker brewing and now the two are forever associated in my mind.

We held a vigil at his bedside. Actually we just sat there very awkward and unsteady as if vigil were a restless child in our laps. Nervous chatter and blank expressions. One had the suction machine poised to clean up the vile black disease that oozed from his mouth and nose. Ah, but i am ever the restless one so i made the coffee and paced about.

Soon the realization hit that he may stay in this gruesome state for more than an hour (or longer than anyone cared to sit and stare at his laboured breathing). Sylvie's mother woke and her sister and niece did there best to explain his condition. As the three generations of women moved to the kitchen to console her, I offered to stay with him.

I read to him kahlil gibran's "the prophet". I leaned in close so he could hear over his own sounds and read from the beginning, through to the chapter on children, then skipped to the last passage on death and on to the end of the book. I thought it silly to read all of the passages, what being a man of his age and experience. Perhaps selfish of me to only read those things that i like most...Sylvia and her sister came in the room as I finished. I leaned in closer still and whispered I would be back in a while. I went down to the garden to plea….what some people call prayer, but I know better. My direct conversations with god are almost always a plea of some sort.

Her father, my father in-law was a lovely, warm hearted man with small piercing blue eyes. Smiling eyes…they sparkled when he spoke to me. She thought, he had a little ‘thing for me’ and perhaps I reminded him of his first wife Lois. She had been his first true love but broke his heart, clean in two, when she ran off with his best friend during the war . She later died in child birth. Anyway, he was post stroke when I made his acquaintance and prone to fits of tears with little provocation. Once when I was driving him home from the senior center, he turned to me and asked, quite sincerely, if I would stay with him for the rest of his days. I happily agreed and told him I would be honored to spend as many days as I could in his fine company. He cried the rest of the way home. I tried to remember that in the difficult moments during the years we cared for him. He had asked in earnest and i had said Yes! with my whole heart. We kept him home...hospice that stretched out over two years for a man with an indomitable spirit, a contagious belly laugh and the uncanny ability to be cheery in the worse situations. this story i am sharing happened many years ago. I named one of my son after him…was so elated when I found out baby B was also a boy. My twin boys…named for the two finest men I’ve ever known. There was no plea for that….it just happened, because that is how god works in my life.

It was half hour later when I returned to the room to find syl’s niece at his side. She said, " his breathing is really shallow now" and I said "it will be very soon" as i touched his cheek. Two more breaths and he was gone...

For reasons my very own, at that moment i looked straight up and then to the corner of the ceiling and blew kisses to the air. I yelled to the house and everyone came rushing in and i stepped back to the corner of the room. All the while looking up and searching the ceiling for...oh, hell, i don't know...vapors...a shadow...wondering what the room looked like from up there.

Mother was ushered out of the room by her daughters, one on each arm. I asked the teenager to stay with me and for the others not to return until i came for them. We prepared his body...I was mindful to watch over her state and assure her she could leave at any moment it became too harsh. She helped me wash him, remove the foley, his gown and then we dressed him. A rather daper vintage pair of PJ's he fancied, from the fifties. As i combed his hair, it occurred to me that over the course of his care, I had seen more of this mans naked body than I have of any man in my lifetime. I then did my best to mold the muscles in his face into some sort of calm expression, rather than the grimace frozen there. When all seemed "right" the triad of women shuffled in for their farewells...

The last thing I did was cut a rose from the garden. Beautiful deep red rose bud...major lincoln, i think it's called...for Syl to send with him along with the roll of butter rum lifesafers he always carried. i wondered what kind of ash lifesavers make.

I did all that i wish i could have done for my own father, but couldn't. All that I can to ease the pain for my love and these people that had fused to my heart. All that is sacred and ritual in times of passage...all that is family. The things that I remember that were done for me so long ago and what i hope will be done for mine when i'm gone...

and so it is....

tees | teas | tease

somehow i've managed to become quite involved in this art group. it is in my nature to, if i'm moved to do so, put my entire being into something to the point of extreme burnout. with this i'm trying to work moderation but damn, it's tough. moderation ain't my forte....

my new found friend asked me, with a fair amount of trepidation, to design a limited edition teeshirt for the October gallery show at the AES Power Plant. i did. there will be 40 printed and i have to number them by hand. weird but sorta cool. the show is aptly titled, the Power of Art. i think she asked me because i was telling her how much fun i was having with the title. whomever designed the first Power of Art logo in 2006 choose to put the words in a single line. the yoga pants i purchased have it across the butt and given the proper wedgie it reads Power fArt. now that is all i can see....Power-o-fArt.

i'm fond of type design. i have loads and loads of fun and wacky fonts. but they are just for my own viewing because i rarely use them. when i want something read i use something very straightforward and clean. then i started thinking about how strong the show title was. THE POWER OF ART. (see....you are reading that way too now, aren't you) so i arranged them vertically in true 80's-wham-video-frankie-goes-to-hollywood fashion and then decided to connect the words to make an even broader statement. i came up with three statements very quickly while flipping pancakes one morning. and that's about all i seem to have in me. she gave it to the group to do and i'm anxious to see the resulting statements. what would you have it say? print or write out the words THE - POWER - OF - ART and then connect them.

i printed a bunch of blank greeting cards in groups of 6 with three different sayings to sell both at fundraiser before and at the show. all the proceeds going to the Art Group and this effort to establish an art center. oh, did i tell you that? the whole mission of this group is to establish an Art Center in Redondo. PV has one, Torrance has one....Redondo is choc-a-block with wacky artsy weirdos (present company included). now, whether all us freaks can actually organize enough to be a Brewery like colony or host something like First Thursday remains to be seen.

we've had a few discussions about fundraising and how difficult it is to gather enough money to host events to begin with. most seem to land at a break even amount. plus, we're talking about artists participating here. the first meeting i attended was one part inspiration (they had a lovely fellow from Sharefest inc. speaking) one part "what are you going to do for me" from the group itself. especially since there were several discussions about submissions for the show in october. she suggested i host a tea and sell art...i think i'd rather roll naked in broken glass. i'm not a high tea kinda gal, nor am i one for these wine and cheese parties. i always feel like i need to walk around offering Altoids at those because, ladies, let me tell ya...wine and cheese breath does not make for the best in polite conversation. (picture me slowing backing away as you describe your latest etching and little susie's ongoing battle with binging). so i'm settling on something else. not sure what yet...but it'll come to me.

group drama aside, i love the idea of an art center. some place where people of all ages can come to learn and explore all sorts of arts and craft. something truly Non-profit and well rounded.....where all arts are explored. movement, dance, painting, sculpting, photography, music and words. but i'm an idealist so i'm told that is a tall order to fill. hmpf.

jane pointed me to Linda Woods' Art Army and when i googled that title, what first came up was an .org with a fascinating manifesto. i printed it immediately and wish to read it every day because it moves me so....(anything that makes me think or laugh is good, but if it does both it is my personal nirvana)

these women that seem to be crossing my path lately...they are all so dynamic in their own individual sense and i see such community in getting to know them. inspirational, really....and what artist doesn't sort of cleave to that, right?

what do you see....

The question is not what you look at but what you see.....

Against my principles and better judgement, i joined an Art Group. well, that is to say, i joined a local art group that is filled with blue haired ladies fond of watercolor landscapes and probably do believe Thomas Kincaid is the master of light. i wrote a letter to the local newspaper about a recent push for public art in my beach town. the mayor had appointed an ART TASK FORCE which i found quite comical. the article, written in earnest, could only have been funnier if it were delivered, line by line, by the cast of The Office.....

anyway, i got an email response from a very dynamic woman who is the task force chair and founder of said ArT GrOuP.....and that, my friends, is why i'm joining. now, don't go reading into any of that. i know it sounds provocative to say i joined because of a woman. she's not that kind of woman....but dynamic, indeed. she's from Israel and sort of funky, hippy, chic in a kibbutz cool kinda way. there is something very appealing in the way she speaks as well. what i find however, is she's so frightened of offending anyone that the tone of the group is luke warm. yesterday i showed her a photo of the pier i had altered and she said it looked like a vagina and therefore somehow inappropriate for the group show. wha? huh?

first of all, since she has said that, i like the piece that so much more and secondly, since when is art about appropriateness? which brings me to the other thing i noticed about this group. they are old. all of them. no one younger than 40 at least. that leads me to think they are all rather stuck in their ways. the only mentoring i see is a program called "hands on art" in the local middle and highschools which they play only the part of authority. why some of these kids are not invited to be a member of the group is beyond me. my guess is they would find issue with most anything outside the polite circle of what i call the "auxiliary ladies". these are the ladies that host wine and cheese parties and cut the crusts off their little finger sandwiches and have daughters with eating disorders and what not.

and then there's me. the smart ass.

for me...Art is about individual expression and what can ever be wrong about that? it's all good. nothing chaps my hide more that those that would force on you the label of good vs bad when it comes to expression. art, like music, is a personal preference. we all go to what sings to us...what appeals to our greater sense of self and ultimately, answers to something deeper than what is visible to the eye.

i have my own art salon....the BAD ART salon. what we do is get together and make art out of every possible hideous thing and the point is to be BAD...very BAD...embrace what the emperor's new clothes. it's not as easy as it sounds because we all have that inner critic that wants to be good and right and correct in the politic sense. it is what keeps most people from ever attempting to create art in the first place. no one wants to be called BAD. fuck 'em, i say. be as bad as you want because the expression of self is so worth it.

why, it's the very reason i started this blog.....

No Friends of mine....

holy crap. i'm going to have nightmares. i just finished watching the bone-chilling documentary "Friends in God" by the amazing Alexandra Pelosi. i mean, she's brilliant and the film does a great job of not being too glib but WHAT IS WRONG with these people!!!

i can't even begin to wrap my head around all this evangelical manipulation. maybe it's that lately i've been overwhelmed with the amount of crap that is being shoved down my throat by these smiley faced, empty headed, fear mongers. or even worse, the weeping jesus figure that wants to emotionally blackmail you. ugh. enough people...

i'll write more about this later because right now, i just want to go do a ritual dance or burn some sage or cast a spell just to balance out the juju in my head. i leave you with the best response i've seen to all those patronizing God billboards that have been popping up lately.