It’s Sunday and this is my WIP. Peace. Watercolor on paper.
It’s Sunday and this is my WIP. Peace. Watercolor on paper.
Watercolor on paper. For sale.
books, must have books. change of underwear, tees, pants, maybe
1) When you go on a trip, you spend more time planning what books to bring than you do planning what clothes to pack.
2) When you go to people’s houses for the first time, you surreptitiously check out their bookcases as soon as possible to see what kinds of books they read.
3) Every time you go to a bookstore, you leave with at least one book.
4) You have a Goodreads account and/or a list of books you desperately want to read.
5) The public librarians know your name and your reading habits.
6) You collect editions of classic books rather than stamps or insects or things like that.
7) Your family and friends know that the one gift that will make you truly happy is a good book.
Your baby suffers from life threatening seizures 100 times or more a day. Conventional medicine is ineffective, causes dangerous or undesirable side effects, and there is not much more doctors can do. However, there is a safe, effective treatment that other children are using. Their seizures have decreased dramatically and they are doing things they were unable to do before. They are off their dangerous pharmaceutical medications. It truly is almost a miracle.
A veteran lives with PTSD. He is prescribed anti-psychotic medications, anti-depressants, or a cocktail of psychotropic pharmaceuticals. In many cases they do not help and also have some serious dangerous side effects. However, there is a safe, effective treatment that others are using and they no longer need pharmaceuticals.
A cancer patient who has opted for highly toxic chemotherapy and radiation is experiencing severe nausea, loss of appetite and pain. She is prescribed very strong anti-pain meds…
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here, more facts for those of US who don’t want to hide
A group of economists recently published a report in the American Journal of Public Health proposes states that have authorized medical marijuana may see a decrease in suicide rates in youthful men.
The specialists investigated state-level suicide information over 17 year period, from 1990 to 2007, from the national vital statistics system’s mortality subtle element records. They broke down information from the 12 states that had authorized therapeutic marijuana throughout that time and contrasted it with states that proceeded with criminalize the medication. In states that had authorized marijuana for medical utilization, there was a 10.8 percent diminished in the suicide rate of men in their 20s and 9.4 percent lessening in men in their 30s, the study found.
“The negative relationships between legitimization and suicides around adolescent men are reliable with the theory that marijuana could be utilized to adapt to distressing life occasions,” the creators composed. “Be that…
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I have reblogged this spectacular before, but it deserves another
like this work a lot
The second contender for the Thailand Burma Flora Fauna print series is complete! Today, I’d like to share some thoughts about that image, and also say thank you to everyone who has been reaching out to me after I post these updates. I appreciate all of your support and kind feedback with this project!
This image is a night scene illustrating the Burma Banteng, a species of wild cattle found across Southeast Asia. One of my goals for this project was to allow first hand experience to inform this body of work, which I feel it already has, tenfold.
Included in this image are a number of specific plants and trees, human-made structures, and other visuals I witnessed during my travels. Talk about “refilling the wellspring”, so to speak…
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spouse w ptsd, please, please hurry
another one hoping to end prohibition
Don’t Bogart that joint my friend, pass it on over to me. That song was very popular when I was young and it was an accurate statement about my life. Unlike President Clinton, I did inhale and quite often. Smoking a joint was part of my daily life. I write about this today because I heard a discussion on the radio that officials are finally realize it may be smarter to offer treatment rather prison for non-violent drug offenders. Well halleluiah and praise God.
Funny, I learned to smoke pot in Catholic School. That is why I brought up God. I went to all-boys Catholic High School in North Jersey with about 800 students from 1971 to 1975. I learned how to drink there too. I learned all my vices from school. College opened up even more to me but let’s focus on the pot, reefers, smoke, ganja or weed.
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that’s it, the old man who wrote standing.
This is my wonderful late Treeing Walker Coonhound. He really got into life and ice cream.
painter, writer, great. Sharing
I’m now nine months into grieving the loss of my wife and in some ways, it’s gotten lighter. I’m generally hard on myself but I will give myself credit for working hard to try and grow from this experience. As I’ve said before, Leslie died without a second of self pity and that made it impossible for me to slip into that mud, even though it seemed likely, given my inclinations.
I’ve also written before about the courage Leslie showed in facing her death. She accepted it and walked toward it willingly and proudly, knowing she’d lived a wonderful life. She even joked on the way to death’s door. Although the experience was profound, it wan’t heavy. We shared a lot of laughter during her last days. She showed no fear and, although we cried…
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funny, was thinking the same thing. facebook and the cake
I have officially, majestically, magically, unceremoniously (well, okay, there was a little bit of ceremony) cut Facebook from my life.
Okay…so maybe I kept my fan page, but that’s strictly business. It’s smart to keep the fan page dang it!
But…drumroll…I deleted by personal Facebook account. Not just deactivated, not just sit there and see how long it took before I was back on the good old FB, I up and detonated its ass. And that’s not all. I got rid of my Instagram AND my Twitter, which, to be fair, I never used, so it was like I never had a Twitter account anyway.
Now, my heart did skip several beats as I hovered over the fateful button. I wasn’t going to have the same easy, effortless access to the hundreds of people attached to my account. I wasn’t going to be able to communicate as quickly, and I…
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no no no, please read and convince him he’s a really fucking funny writer.
Work interferes with writing. Work pays bills, writing doesn’t.
I never fell for the dream that I could make a living doing what I love.
A) Radio Jock
B) Sketch artist
……. K) Truck driver.
This is America after all….
There is no room for one more writer.
It’s been real.
Thanx for all the help and nice comments.
Good luck to the rest of you.
funny guy at it again
We all have them….
They keep us humble….or embarrassed to claim that we are willing participants and/or members of the ‘dominant’species on this earth.
I guess that’s why I like to watch funny animal videos.
If they’re doing stupid crap too, then I don’t feel so bad.
Hmmm…Animals don’t jump out of a perfectly good airplane though…..on purpose.
Think about it….
When I start drinking out of the toilet, I’ll get back with you.
Come to think about it, I have gotten bored and torn up all the toilet paper.
Brain farts help remind us that we are not as far removed from apes as we originally supposed.
Don’t freak out Jesus people…..I’m a Jesus fan too!
Man it’s hot in here all…
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the first time I posted this painting I had found a category in G+ labeled selfies. Thought it meant, well, self portraits. Silly me. I got many questions similar to “how did you DO that?”
Then I looked some more after answering “I painted it.” I was in the wrong place. he he
Then the other day a big-time ballplayer thrust a cellphone in front of the President of the United States and snapped a selfie of himself and the President. Mr. Obama stayed graceful and in the spirit of the event.
I learned today that the fancy ball player had the morning before signed a contract with Samsung and used this national honor occasion to promote the phone. I find the behavior reprehensible.
I could sputter a few more graphs, but I’ll just leave it at that……sputter, fume, try not screaming… sputter.
Really, now, sunny again! Hooray. Here in upstate NY, we have had five months of snow on the ground. It sucks. Yeah, the first flake was something to marvel at and enjoy, but it’s April.
Yesterday, my old magnificent dog, Cody, took a short walk with me. The mud and stone drive up to our house is half melted. There were things to smell, said Cody.
So we sat outside–me bundled a bit–and soaked up a few rays. Worked much better than the full spectrum light box we use all winter. Birds singing, oh, I may have to break out in song.
Before that happens (not pretty) I think Cody and I will go out and breathe a bit. Thanks to all who post pretty, funny and short.
It didn’t move….
I looked at it for a minute, waiting to see if it would live.
When it didn’t move I bumped it with my foot…
Good, it was still alive.
It’s not every day that a good post idea falls out of the sky.
[Scene] New Albany, Mississippi Pilot Truck Stop: Coffee Island
[Players in this scene]
Lady Barista, Trucker that looks like Bob Marley (We’ll call him “Rasta”) and Me.
Lady Barista: “If you guys need anything, just ask”
[Me stirring coffee, Rasta adding creamer]
Me: “What’s the meaning of life?”
Lady Barista: [giggles] “Be happy”
[Scene….Morning……before coffee…..Happiness does not exist on this plane of reality before 6 am]
Me: “No…I’m happy all the time, that’s not it”
Lady Barista: [giggles] “You’re not happy this…
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asked for a reblog. happy to comply
wonderful story. Had breast cancer five years ago. Considering the boob stuffing removal and left you wrote about
just read it, you read too, okay?
Few words today, but in addition to the many not-so-natural medicines I’ve been pumping into my body lately, here’s a glimpse of another kind of medicine that has certainly been impacting my well-being. I’m getting lots of love from Lori, Sam, Jack and family – don’t know what I would do without all of them – and then there’s my baby boy Oliver. He knows somethings up, but as always – regardless – he’s got lots of love to give. Both photographs in this post are iPhone pix processed in the Snapseed app – the one below is a “selfie” I’m especially proud of.
keep waxing philosophical. I say hello to everyone I am approaching. Surprisingly, some say hello back!
It bums me out dude, or dudette.
I don’t want to expound on my past history, things that are happening around the world and here at home.
Not only am I ill qualified to speak on politics, religion, foreign policies of the US or other countries in relation to the US, social and racial platforms and/or most anything that stirs the soul of the typical Homo Sapiens that lives to wrap themselves in the quadratic cess-pots of fear-mongering;
I really don’t care.
I guess I must only care about what I think i can have an effect on….
Is that bad…?
I don’t mean “Not care” in the sense of the homeless, starving, unemployed, abused, addicted, soldiers that are in harm’s way and such et cetera and so on…
Sometimes I care too much, but what can I do?
Sometimes I actually…
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Mark, for me it’s the trilliums
The Syracuse TV station weather guy said Wednesday morning shall bring one last snow.
He called it the last gasp of winter, as a matter of fact.
I hope so.
As I walked with Ellie B, aka Dogamous Pyle, this afternoon prior to the last snowy hurrah, I kept my eyes open for any signs of spring.
And the first one, serendipitously so, was in fact a sign. Placed outside the Friends Diner, it advertised the weekly chicken barbecue to come.
I closed my eyes and imagined the smell of food well-charred, eaten outside, sitting happily in the sun.
A block later, I spotted the front yard tree, below.
I do believe those are buds up there in the branches.
I closed my eyes and imagined the smell of leaves and blossoms, emerging…
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hey I found a place to learn
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Yesterday I commented to a poet that I like that she writes my favorite way: Short
Today I follow my own advice.
words I wish I’d heard
Today I am very happy to read your note. We are in a similar boat, with holes in it.
Dear woman behind me in line at the grocery store,
You don’t know me. You have no clue what my life has been like since October 1, 2013. You have no clue that my family has gone through the wringer. You have no clue that we have faced unbelievable hardship. You have no clue we have been humiliated, humbled, destitute.
You have no clue I have cried more days than not; that I fight against bitterness taking control of my heart. You have no clue that my husband’s pride was shattered. You have no clue my kids have had the worries of an adult on their shoulders. You have no clue their innocence was snatched from them for no good reason. You know none of this.
What you do know is I tried to buy my kids some food and that the EBT machine was down so I couldn’t buy…
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as I have said. Write short.
So, you are a poet. You know this because cryptic, symbolic, and interesting language seems to tap out of your fingers. It impresses your friends, bores your family, but you are hooked. You want to make more and to become better at it.
“How do I improve my poem?” You wonder.
Critique is helpful, sometimes only to shake your head at. It is easy for a reader or teacher or colleague to suggest revision, but how do you do it? It is like that infernal commentary “You have to get out of your box, leave your comfort zone.”
You aren’t afraid of hard work nor are you opposed to revision, it is just that getting started is hard. How do we leave our boxes?
First, write your poem or type it, get the entire thing out of your head where you can look at it. Then copy and paste it…
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Don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly averse to some forms of artistic “cheating”. But, a week or two ago, I was watching an old Youtube video by an absolutely excellent drawing teacher called Shoo Rayner and he started to talk about tracing.
He was quite emphatic that tracing isn’t cheating and he provided some fairly interesting arguments to back up his ideas (and he has another, more interesting video about tracing here). It’s worth watching these videos just to hear his views on the subject and to make up your own mind. Even so, I have to disagree very strongly about this whole subject.
I believe that tracing is one of the worst ways that an artist can cheat herself…
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What was the one experience that completely changed your life? What happened? How did it change your life?
1963, the year in which I was graduated from high school at 17, started college, got raped the first time and President Kennedy was assassinated. Nothing has been the same since.
I survived three more rapes, another college and was graduated–finally–from Pitt in 1969.
I worked at WQED, Pittsburgh for a couple years, and then seriously dropped out.
Good and bad stuff happened. I found my soul with guru Rudi and found my soulmate in 1983.
to be continued…
guilty as well of overworking paintings. I’m a watercolorist and overworking can be fatal to the innocent painting.
another near Syracuse said hooray for sun. Today, Fri. is snowing
Three days ’til spring.
I can’t tell who’s getting more antsy for winter to leave, Ellie B aka Dogamous Pyle or this guy on the holding end of the leash.
With the temperature creeping up — I can’t believe weather sites say it’s 31 degrees right now in Syracuse, N.Y., because it feels at least 10 degrees warmer — and the sun out in full, the dog and the dad took a slightly longer route through the streets of our city neighborhood.
We have a hundred combinations of streets and short-cuts, at least. Each delivers its own unique good vibrations.
Today’s journey took us on a service road behind an apartment complex.
We both like the line of impressive pine trees that flank one side of the path, as you can see above.
And what, you might ask, sat just…
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