When life imitates art

One day I was walking in the park and was stopped cold by this puddle of heron droppings. It looked just like The Scream to me. I instantly pulled out my camera and photographed it.

It made me wonder if maybe a heron dropping was the inspiration for the painting.....

It also made me wonder if I have way way too much time on my hands.....

Ten Questions Tuesday with Rachel

Today Miscellaneous Yammering is pleased and proud to present the lovely and talented and awesomely singly named Rachel. Yes, singly named, like Cher. And like Cher, Rachel needs no further introduction. If you don’t already know who she is, you are sadly out of step with the world around you. Go hang your head in shame.

K: Good morning Rachel, it was nice of you to pry yourself out of your nice warm bed to yammer with me today.

R: I do love my bed. It’s fantastic. But for some reason when I tell people that I want to be buried on my mattress, they look at me funny.

[K looks at her funny]

K: Are you comfy? Can I get you another stack of pancakes?

R: OOH, ok, so maybe we can talk while I’m on my bed, sitting on a throne made out of pancakes. With a little crown, a scepter… Yes, set that up. Then we’ll talk.

[scrambles frantically to appease the visiting diva]

K: Here you go then, everything you asked for. Hey, you look really cute on the pancake throne…but maybe we should have reconsidered the syrup.

I’m ready…I’ll just perch here on the edge, out of the syrup stream….now if you’re all comfy and you’re ready to rock… let’s roll.

TEN QUESTIONS FOR RACHEL

K: Rachel, you could have taken the whole summer off of school and lolled around reading science fiction and playing Sim City….yet, you chose to take classes….what’s up with that?

R: Well it’s very simple really, my major is very conceited. It does not realize that the college has its own requirements, and therefore leaves me no time to take gen ed classes. So it wasn’t really a choice per say, it was more “gee, I’d like to graduate at SOME point, and it’s already taking me 5 years to get my degree (with no masters might I add) so maybe I should do this.”

K: You have had a lot of pets in your life….what is the strangest thing that you’ve ever had happen with a pet?

R: Well, while I have in fact had a tree frog jump in my mouth, yes, my MOUTH, I think the strangest thing I’ve had was a suicidal ribbon snake. It bit itself in half. No idea why. He just did.

K: You own a magnificent Bearded Dragon named Happy whom you would never allow anyone to malign. You’ve seen the movie Holes in which Bearded Dragons are depicted as scary vicious creatures. Care to expound on that subject?

R: Well, they weren’t really Bearded Dragons in the movie, they were yellow-spotted lizards PLAYED by bearded dragons with some CG help. So it was ok.

K: When you were four you saw Charlotte’s Web for the first time. When [spoiler alert] Charlotte died, you were inconsolable for hours……have you recovered from that trauma, or does it still haunt your every waking moment?

R: I really don’t know how to respond to this question… Yesterday my flute teacher told me that she was trying to print out a picture of someone but the computer just kept printing out a picture of a pig. Go technology!

K: I know you love a good rant, but like me, you don’t really swear…have you found that the lack of swearing hampers your ability to get up a good head of steam when you rant? [Love the little crinkly thing you get over your nose btw….and all the arm waving and hopping up and down]

R: I do love a good rant! But I’ve never used curse words, so it certainly doesn’t get in my way. Darn and daggonit are pretty good swear words in my book. I like when shows get around that by making up their own swearwords (Firefly anyone?) like Gorram. I don’t know what you’re talking about with a crinkly thing? You mean like wrapping paper?

K: Speaking of ranting….after seeing the new Star Trek film, you had several, how shall we put it….ISSUES…with some of the story line…..hit the high points for us won’t you?

R: Well really one thing. It was advertised as a prequel. A prequel. Definition: A prequel is a work that portrays events and/or aspects of a previously completed narrative, but is set prior to the existing narrative. (Thank you Wikipedia, the day that my professors allow me to use you as a source will be a wonderful day indeed). So why did they think it was ok to make a prequel turn into an alternate universe? Clearly because they are idiots and don’t read Wikipedia. Or look up definitions before making a movie. Next time guys, there’s this great function. I’ll give it to you step by step. 1) Go to Google. www.google.com. 2) Type in the search box “define: prequel”. 3) Read definition. See? It’s easy.

K: You have a very sweet boyfriend. What’s the one thing that you can tell us about him without making him die of mortification?

R: He likes to eat chicken. And rice. He rides a dragon when he needs to get around. I once convinced someone at a party that my boyfriend was a UFC fighter. And he believed me until I finally told him I was joking.

K: Which of these words or combination of words would you say most describe you? Gifted, Brilliant, Smarty Pants, Geek, Loveable, Adorable, Nerd, Musician, Curious, Hilarious, Inventive, Compassionate, Good typist, Creative, Huggable, Juggler, Great Looking, Tiny, Long fingered, Big Eyed, Accomplished Ear Wiggler, Queen of the Universe.

R: Hello leading question. How are you today? What do you mean you didn’t give me many words that you thought I’d take out?
See, this is the problem with having your mom make up these questions, she starts using words like “Brilliant, Good Looking and Rachel” in the same sentence. Well let’s see. The only ones I would use myself to describe me would be…. Nerd, musician, curious, compassionate, juggler, tiny, and accomplished ear wiggler. As we all know, I’m not aiming to become Queen of the Universe. I have a life. That’s too much work. Ultimate dictator of the world will work just fine.

K: How many hats do you currently own? And tell that story about when you and your friend Debbie got thrown out of Higbees for trying on hats because they thought you were drunk…oh, no, wait that was me….just answer the part about the hat quantity….and describe the one that you REALLY rock and rock HARD.

R: Well…. I own a green baseball cap. It’s green. Somewhat faded. It keeps my face from getting burned. The green color kind of looks funny now from the sun, so it doesn’t ever match what I’m wearing. So I guess I can say I rock it, but it’s more functional than anything else.

K: And finally, what was it like growing up in a household with a mom who read stories you wrote about “The Great Flaming Cheese” [awesome story by the way] and loved loved loved it?

R: See, and here’s yet another problem with having your mom make up these questions. Let me rephrase this for you. “Tell everyone on my blog how awesome I am. I’ll wait.”
But I will take the opportunity to hype my upcoming novel, The Great Flaming Cheese. That seems like the thing to do on these blogs. Synopsis: A young boy must save the world from the horrible world wrecking entity, the Great Flaming Cheese. He is aided only by his pet rabbit Steve.
This is a work in progress, and I think I’ll say the estimated publication date would be, oh, say, 2060? I should be retired by then and have time to finish it.
So you should all keep it in mind, and in 50 years, signed copies all around, ok?


K: Thanks so much Rachel for coming in today to be inquired at by moi. Now, come over here and give me a hug and then lets go loll about for hours and watch a full season of Gilmore Girls….or Firefly…you choose.

R: If only! I think you mixed up my summer here…. Remember question #1? Classes, work? Maybe we can do that in 2060 when I publish my book. I wonder if they’ll still have DVD’s then. We might have to buy Gilmore Girls and Firefly: the Interactive versions. So real, you’ll step in the cow poo.

But I will give you a hug…and thanks again for all of the pancakes. Can I get you to pack some up to take with me in a doggie bag? And just to be clear the doggie bag isn’t actually for a doggie, the pancakes would be for me…..some to eat…..some to sit on……

Enlightenment

Buddha came to me in a dream
I was searching
opening doors

The things I saw were not the things I sought

I opened a door to a hall
a woman inside
familiar
a friend before unmet
instantly trusted

She invited me to her classroom
I chattered
then was still

In the room was an entity
she beckoned him to join us
we lay on the floor
the small of my back across her legs

I felt his overwhelming presence

He bowed over my feet
his hands open
his heart more so

I felt his intent
I felt his power
I felt his love

I attempted to place my hands
in enlightenment mudra position
at my heart

My fingers would not/could not come together

I attempted again
and yet again
at first frustrated
then relaxing

And suddenly they met
all was easy
so easily understood

He placed his hands on my feet

The world stopped
became small
contained only we three

The teacher
the conduit
the student

My body was overwhelmed with energy

I felt squeezed
as though two giant squeegees
one front, one back
had traversed my body
head to toe

Cleansing all pain and despair from my soul

I looked at his face
he was beautiful

I looked at her face
she was beautiful

I saw myself
I was beautiful

I awoke
I am whole

Expectations

When you create something are you your own worst critic? I think a lot of us are. I think most writers are. I wonder if that is why a lot of writers are often riddled with performance anxiety. Heck, let's throw all of the performing arts, actors, artists, comics and musicians into that mix as well.

In my life I have had the privilege to meet and get to know a lot of different artistic folk from a variety of different industries. Lumped together, the first thing that strikes me about all of them is that they each pushed themselves to become better at what they do.

Some of them fanatically so, some in just a healthy I know I can do better kind of way. And it doesn't seem to matter how high the success rung is that they're currently standing on. They want to drive themselves to do more.

But what is really startling to me when they are viewed as a group like this is that a lot of them just plain lacked confidence in their own obvious talent.

Thinking about that this morning, it made me start to wonder about people, expectations and the place that rock solid human connection has in the artistic life.

As far as expectations go, when do you know that good enough is good enough? How long do you stay on the treadmill churning the same idea round and round until it goes way past the hey this is good ice cream stage and sours into something that you have to put down the garbage disposal?

Well, one way is to have some kind of mirror to hold up to yourself so that you can actually see what is going on with you. The BEST mirror is one that only has you looking back at yourself giving yourself love and approval and honest critiquing of your work. That's the A mirror. The one that it takes a lot of soul searching to acquire. The one that everybody aspires to. The one that you have when you can have peace and quiet in your mind any time you take a still point in your day for yourself and your sanity. The one where you say, hell yes, that's good. Let's go with that. And release what you've created out into the world and let it take wing to become whatever it is destined to become.

Successful people have this mirror and use it to their advantage to live and create in a healthy manner in a sometimes not so healthy work or life environment.

Another way is to surround yourself with friends or trusted others who hold up a mirror that not only reflects you but your work in a kind, honest straightforward helpful way. That's the B mirror. Still a great mirror and certainly one to aspire to having. Getting more than one person in your life to believe in your talent is nothing to sneeze at, let alone having more than one person walking behind you cheering you on. Believing in your talent because other people believe in it is human nature, but you're still limiting yourself if you only believe in yourself only if others believe in you.

But many many successful people have this second kind of mirror and it hasn't seemed to hurt their career, their souls or their sanity one bit.

Then there are the folks that don't believe in themselves at all, and are even more fragile for that non belief, but somehow become wildly successful anyway because of a mix of talent, timing, tenaciousness and trusting others to manage their careers.

What toll if any does that last kind of propped up success take on your soul?

Especially when it gets ripped out from under you because of human nature. Because you got older, or the type of art you make goes out of style, or because you no longer have that THING that allowed you to create in the first place.

Well, when that happens, if you're strong you reinvent yourself and move on. And with any luck you'll still have people in your life to help pick up the pieces and let you accept that just because your creative talent has run out, or your looks have left the building, your value as a human being hasn't.

Because a friend with a hug and some kind words in the deep dark lonely portion of the endless night when you think that you are no longer the wunderkind that you once were beats a valium followed by a revolver or a noose hands down any time, any day in the same situation.

As an artist, go out into the world and create, but remember to create healthy strong human bonds as well. These are the ties that bind. The ones that heal a broken spirit, a broken dream, a broken mind.

The ones that matter when all is said and done.

The ones that stay with you for life and then take you on to the grave……. and even more importantly keep you from an early one.

I have been lucky enough in the last two years to have time to make the journey to the place where I have acquired the type A mirror. And I am also extremely fortunate to have loving positive people surrounding me virtually and otherwise from all walks of life. Each of these people touches my life in different ways, but each is invaluable to my creativity, my sanity and my spiritual and physical health.

A lovely person recently asked me if Karen from mentor referred to an occupation or a place.

My reply?

Both.

So if you are ever in need of a kind word and a hug, virtual or otherwise, or just need to unburden yourself to someone who won't judge you for being human, believe me whatever you're dealing with I've been there/done that, bought the tee shirt and then made it into a sock puppet…. If you need a shoulder, give me a shout ..…your secrets will be safe with me…….and this internet thingy? It's always on….

Mug full o’ spider

Last Thursday I was lying on the floor watching Burn Notice. I mean a biography on Albert Einstein. Yes, that was what I was doing, watching a biography to improve my brain.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something move. I turned my face and there, three inches from my eyes was the biggest spider that I have ever ever seen outside of a pet store, or loose in a friend's car in high school.

Let's explore that for a minute…..my friend who shall remain nameless, but his initials are Jeff Kaehler, had a pet tarantula that got loose in his car. Prior to the escape the spider had been much loved and well tended. Jeff reveled in displaying the spider's prowess at snapping #2 pencils with its formidable jaws. Therefore, once it was loose in the car there wasn't a lot Jeff could do about finding it and returning it to its cage if he also valued his fingers. And he did. Value his fingers that is. Sooooo, he left his poor lovely spider in the car, with the windows up, in the hot sun, in August, for days…..hoping that it would get hungry and come out so he could catch it. Or alternatively, and sadly, meet its demise so he could safely resume driving his car.

Now, I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that the story I heard was that after a week of no sign of the spider, he got into the car and drove away to the self serve car wash to use their giant vacuum cleaner to dispose of the corpse.

About half way there, he felt a slight tickle on his leg. He looked down, and sure enough there was his furry friend climbing his leg. He managed to pull over, capture the little guy in a baseball hat and put him in the glove box. Then he drove home, got the cage, opened the glove box, the spider JUMPED into his house and began devouring the waiting food. So all was right in spider land that day.

My story has a murkier ending.

I have always been a person who catches bugs and lets them go outside if at all possible. Where I live now my windows have fixed screens, so anything bigger than a ladybug can't be released out of the windows.

The evening of the visit from the giant spider I was already in my jammies. My front door opens onto a hallway, not to the great out of doors.

When I saw the giant spider, I jumped up and went into the kitchen to get something to catch it in. My dishwasher was running and all of my glasses and large mugs were inside. I scrambled around and found the mug in the photo.

I put the mug down in front of the spider and he climbed in. HE JUST BARELY FIT. I covered the top with a paperback book and ran squeaking to my front door. I tossed him into the hall as close to the exit door as possible.

There's a gap under the door and my hope was that he would find it and go outside. I went back to watching Burn Notice. I mean Albert.

A few minutes later I heard panicked screaming in the hall. It was a man's voice, screaming in a high pitched girly way and also swearing, quite loudly and inventively, in a much less girly way. A lot of doors opened and shut while other tenants looked out to see what was up.

I cracked my door and watched the spectacle. The guy was hopping around on one foot and then actually LEAPED into the air and grabbed hold of the staircase rail in one big sideways motion. He scrabbled at the rail with his feet churning until he found purchase for his giant sneakers and then he disappeared from sight.

I closed my door grinning and went back to watching tv. I checked the next day and there was no giant squished spider in the hall. My hope is that the little spider guy came to no harm and is living happily outside.

Now my question is, does it make me a sexist because I found the freaking out guy funny? If it had been a woman or a child who discovered the little hairy guy, I would have felt bad about tossing a giant spider into the hall and scaring them.

But since it was a guy, I was amused.

Hmmmm….maybe I'm a closet sexist and don't know it….

[does some soul searching]

Nope, I'm pretty sure that no sexism was in play since the whole amusement thing hinged on this PARTICULAR guy freaking out about something that was one one hundreth of his size, and that he could have easily squished with his giant number twelve sneakers.

I hope you don't think less of me.

And speaking of thinking less of me…I wasn't watching a program about Albert Einstein to improve my brain.

I was watching Michael Weston blow stuff up. So there. And I bet Michael wouldn't have been bothered one little tiny bit by a big black hairy four inch spider…… unless it showed up in his yogurt. Then he would probably have been pissed. Michael hates it when anybody messes with his yogurt.