Some touristy type photos from Friday night~





I know I posted one of these yesterday, but this one has the mountain.





Maybe my painting palette is influenced by our late afternoon light hitting the buildings?





Now introducing a guest photographer:



Sitting across from me at dinner on Friday night he asked for my camera...and wanted it set to color. I was curious to see what he saw.



I so wish I had seen and taken this one.

Remember this painting from May?



This is what it looks like after this week~



I've been slowing down and reworking overly marked up paintings. The most recent one still isn't complete...but I like where it's going. The color in the jpeg is still off (even after color-correcting in Photoshop) because of the temp of the studio lights.

Yesterday I was bone tired and never made it into the studio. Instead it was a day of laundry, cleaning the fridge, watching movies and then a killer dinner with Phil, D and Phil's brother.

Being tired, the images I was going to post never happened. Hopefully they'll go up today...after some time spent painting.

Yesterday was a very full day. There wasn't any space for blogging until last night. And then I burnt through my camera battery while out and so couldn't import images into my computer until this morning.

Phil's brother is in town and after a small gathering of the Friday Evening Libation Society, Phil, his bro, D and I went down near the water to shoot photos at sunset and then do dinner. I'll be posting a bunch of images later.

In addition, I have a few photos from a gathering last week, and some from Zev's visit the week before. Those will also go up this weekend.

A shot of my studio after yesterday's work session.



On the wall, a bunch of wet paintings...still unfinished. The paintings way in the back are my studio mate's. That's her section and I really enjoy her work. They are window reflections from tall buildings.

I'll get back in there today but first, I have to make myself do laundry. I put it off twice last weekend because I wanted to get into the studio. It can no longer wait.

Nayland Blake asked me for 7 tidbits that people probably wouldn't know.

Here they are:


1. I used to know all the words to all the songs from "Jesus Christ Superstar" and would sing them on roadtrips when we'd go visit memere and pepere in Canada or Berlin, NH. Although I haven't made a point of listening to it since, when I hear something from that show, I still enjoy it.


2. Necked with my first boy at 12. We'd go to an apartment in a creepy building in an even creepier neighborhood. I don't even remember who lived there. But there were a few girls and boys from my 7th grade class at my French-Canadian catholic grammar school. We hung out and necked after school every day. I was crushed out on John, but would kiss his brother Norman, nicknamed "Caveman". Caveman was a couple years older but was in our class because he stayed back a few times. I wasn't fond of him but wanted to kiss. Thinking about it now makes me feel icky.


3. I trust very few women. Although I had been physically raped by a man, it was women, over the span of my life, who had emotionally raped me. I've experienced too much meanness, hidden agendas, and deceit at the hands of women.

Now I do follow my intuition, and if someone feels good...clean, I will welcome them, regardless of gender. If there isn't a clear energy signal, then I lean toward being overly cautious. Although it's not fair, I tend to hold women to a higher standard. I'm actively working on changing this but it isn't easy.

This is one reason why finding my studio space was a powerful moment. I enjoyed the women painters immediately...as soon as I met them. It was a relief because not only did it show me that I don't hate women but also a reminder that my intuition tends to be spot on. And I have been doubting myself a lot recently and therefore desperately needed some affirmation.


4. Other than a short summer drawing class at the museum when I was 10, I didn't take formal art classes until I was about 20 years old. Never touched it in high school. It shows a serious disconnect between myself and my world when I was a teen.

When I was younger Mom would give me tips. Pretty much the only thing I remember from her is: when doing a bouquet of flowers (or any other grouping), do an odd number. It's more interesting than an even number. I stuck to that pretty faithfully until I saw times when rules could be broken.

After my first continuing ed course in painting at the local community college I was allowed to go to school for art. I had to create a portfolio from scratch. I carried lots of shame and felt like a huge imposter because I didn't have the benefit of high school art classes to show work from that. To this day, there are many times I don't feel worthy of painting and feel a huge lack of skills.


5. I sucked my thumb until I was twelve. I had to learn to comfort myself much too early.


6. Oh my. I just remembered something. I had my first cigarette at 12 years old. It seems I traded one for the other. Marlboro's were 45 cents a pack. Just a little orally fixated.


7. My dad told me to leave the house at 18 because I was a bad influence on my brothers and sisters. It seems that my decision to leave the catholic church at 16, and become a non-denominational jesus freak…going to prayer meetings all the time and volunteering with the elderly was a greater offense than the drinking, drugging and sex that my younger sibs were engaging in. Apparently he threw his parenting responsibility on my shoulders. Although I'm working on it, I still haven't let go of that one.

He let me move back in a year later, and then a few years after that, decided I could go to college for art and he would pay for my education.


And a bonus answer:

Even with all the therapy, there are still days where I feel I shouldn't have been born on this planet. I don't understand the rules of this world...and don't know how to play the games. It hurts my heart to see much of what I see.

My struggle is with not closing myself off from the muddiness.

It seems the older I get the more I understand why people choose to become hermits.

-----

And...yesterday I had a fucking kick ass painting session. I went into the studio a total emotional wreck and managed to rise past it, immerse myself in oils, and came out in another place.

All sorts of linkage~

Last night was our neighborhood block party. Spearheaded by Angel, of Angel's Shoe Repair. I think he's been in the neighborhood for over 30 years. There was a danger of his having to move because of skyrocketing rent increases…but I hope it doesn't happen.

Our neighborhood is like a small town. The diversity of cultures is wonderful. There isn't much racial diversity…not like when I lived in Columbia City. But we have regular joes, and more well to do folks such as Microsofties, as well as artists and street/homeless people and queers and freaks and leatherfolk and young and old. There's a little bit of everything. Definite lifestyle linking.

Last night many of us came together. I had the chance to meet some new folks, each very different and wonderful. I could have easily handed out my work and art business cards. Got to meet and speak with a gay male couple about grants and scholarships. One is going to apply for a scholarship while his partner wants to apply for a grant for his organization to continue funding a food program for queer homeless youth.

I received a card from a painter/dancer.

Many neighborhood businesses chipped in with store gift certificates (such as getting the food from the grocery stores), or pizza from Olympic Pizza. The HopVine Pub had a large platter of killer cookies and coupons for happy hour beers prices. There were thick juicy hamburgers cooking on the grill, hotdogs and veggie burgers. Salads and beans were brought in. Neighbors would also bring food. The ribs went fast. As did the pie.

I was taking photos and someone asked me if I had a blog…because I was taking photos. :-)



From Rob Brezsny:

Again and again
Some people in the crowd wake up.
They have no ground in the crowd
And they emerge according to broader laws.
They carry strange customs with them,
And demand room for bold gestures.

The future speaks ruthlessly through them.
- Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Stephen Mitchell

Here's this week's Freewill Astrology.

This week's Astrobarry 'scopes.

For you funky film freaks...SomethingWeird.com. It's a resource to pick up old, forgotten bizarre films.

From their website:

"Here on your screen is a whole world of film that just a few short years ago was considered lost or worthless. The industry that produced and distributed these films had long since vanished and there was no sign of the men who actually created these bottom of the barrel celluloid wonders. That is until now."



In reading a local art blog yesterday I found a wonderful critique. It reminded me of how my profs would critique back in school.

Regina Hackett wrote:

"…Robb did not deserve that award in 2003. She still doesn't. So far, she's an artist on the brink of something. She has the potential to be huge but that potential remains unrealized. She needs to focus, and she needs to be less in love with her every gesture. If she destroyed most of what she's made, she'd have the beginning of a beginning."

It's fair and very powerful.


Now…about the group show I will participate in -

It's the 7th annual challenge: 30 paintings in 30 days.

I pay $75. For that I receive 30 8x10 canvas boards. The fee covers the supplies and hanging materials.
Everyone picks up the canvas on the same day. Then we have 30 days to paint.

The work gets hung at the OK Hotel Gallery in December. Chuck, who spearheads this, says that our building can hold all the work, but it can't hold all the people who come thru to see it. There's a huge line an hour before the opening!

Every painting is for sale for $40. Affordable art for the masses.
And…people get to take home the art as soon as they pay for it.

The artist receives 2/3.

I love the populist idea behind this. It makes art accessible.

Here's a photo of what it looked like last year.

And this is a short, very interesting blurb about the history of the hotel, including the fact that Nirvana first performed Smells Like Teen Spirit there!

Now, I need to focus on work, although it's going to be tough not to be distracted considering a very hot email that was waiting for me when I arrived at work.

Yesterday, after work, I was so sleepy that I wanted to go home and nap. Knowing that napping rarely happens, instead I forced myself down to the studio and worked another drawing. Just stepping foot in the space rejuvenated me for a couple hours.

Today, after being at work for a bit I opted to take some time from our summer floating use it or lose it holiday hours. I wanted to paint.

After the 20 minute bus ride, I walked in about 11 am. It was deliciously quiet. No one around. I rearranged a little and then pulled out my oils. The last time I worked in oils was before heading to NYC at the end of May.

It was strange. Wonderful but odd.

It's time to purchase a larger piece of glass to make a bigger palette. That was always a constricting factor. Colors muddy up fairly quickly with a smaller palette surface. And now with greater painting space, I need the mixing room as well.

Rough work session today.

I worked for over an hour and then slipped into some of the blackness and almost froze. All I could then do was plop my ass on the couch and sob. It took mammoth effort to get back up, return to the easel and paint some more. Paint something. Paint anything. Just move the paint on canvas.

Being there was the most important. I'm working on developing a routine.

It was bizarre because my heart was busting with love...and then after working a bit I was a very wet, weepy, teary mess. It hurt inside.

It can't all be warm fuzzies, right?
And it confused me. I couldn't understand the change.

I hoped to work a good 4 or 5 hours, but had to go home about 2pm. My skin hurt. I felt so exposed. While on the bus I couldn't wait to return to my apartment where I could be quiet and away from strangers for a while before I head over to our neighborhood block party for burgers.

Now that I'm writing this, I've realized something. Painting is my biggie. More than charcoal or watercolor. It makes total sense that I had a meltdown in the studio today. Not only had I not painted in over two months, but it was my very first painting session in a space where I'm claiming the validity of myself as painter.

No wonder I was raw.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple smiling nods~

Thank you to Susan Mernit for her kind words in her blog entry on Blogher: Surfing the Sex and Relationship Bloggers

And thanks to Capitol Hill Seattle blog for noting my flower power photo from Sunday.

How can I not mark this occasion?

This is the first thing I worked on in the new space. And no, it doesn't look like that anymore because well...I continued to push it. Pushed it past its prime.

And, you're missing all the detail. This shot doesn't pick any of that up. Mostly charcoal, with some black watercolor and graphite.


I went in yesterday to organize my stuff, take down the Thursday showing and hang some of my paintings on the wall. I needed to see certain pieces hung at the same time.

What a luxury.

Sitting on the couch, I kept looking at them. And after a bit, I was hungry to work. I dove in with charcoals because large charcoal pieces couldn't really happen in my apartment. Much too messy.

3 hours and 3 pieces later culminated in a sense of satisfaction. They are all getting tossed because it was simply about working. Working just to work which felt the same as playing. My cunt was so juiced up during that whole time.

It was a time of pushing and pulling and exposing in an environment made for vulnerability. Sex.


And don't worry. I'm not going to go on about my studio every day and forever. But right now, it's my new baby.

Or...better yet, my new home. It's a safe space for my most primal lover and I to get it on...to cry, to sweat, to kiss deep dark kisses, to rest, to fuck.

To fuck long and hard. To push past whatever barriers ego has built up. To step into the blackest pool, terrified yet determined, knowing that healing comes from the connection.

Creation is our job.

And in creation is truth.

Sunday morning posies~



Walking back this morning with coffee in hand, I noticed that someone lovingly created a garden on a little patch. It made me very happy.

Of course I didn't have my camera but went to get it and returned to the spot before the streets filled up with people.

I was simply going to post the full color image, but my old desire to retouch and immerse myself in mechanical detailing came out. When I worked in the photo lab almost 20 years ago (crap...I'm old!) I loved restoring old cracked photographs. It would bring up a peaceful feeling. This had a similar feel.

Very meditative work.

With the kind assistance of Hoss, S and G, I moved easels and paper and canvasses and pencils and tools and stuff into the studio today. It's sitting in a pile in the middle of the floor. I'll go in tomorrow, organize and set it up.

When I walked back into my little house, it felt spacious. Having a living space again is a more wonderful feeling than I thought it would be. I have room to cook. And to tend to my plants. And room to move the vacuum cleaner around.

And yet...at the same time, it seems odd not having my art materials around me. It feels as if I should be down at the studio right now. That's not a bad thing.

(I'm tired today, so am keeping this short.)

Last night's showing:

~Incredible, vibrant creative energy bursting out at the seams of the whole building.
~Totally packed with people, especially after 7:30 pm.
~I've got to get business cards made.
~Had a wonderful time.
~Hoss and his D came by for a while...and assisted with pimping out my work.
~Received great response to the work.
~Was asked to be in a big group show...with a challenge - 30 paintings in 30 days!

I accepted.


It is drizzly and cool. It makes me happy because it slows me down. I will be packing up my stuff to move to the studio tomorrow.

Today is a tomato soup and saltines kind of day.

Tonight is my first First Thursday art walk. In my new, real life studio. This is one of the windows in the new space.
For those who can make it, it's from 6-9 pm at 619 Western, 4th floor south. Look for the studio that has a sign painted above the door. It says: The Sophia Room.

So named...for wisdom.

When I first saw the studio, and the name, it was another powerful affirmation.


I've seen how afraid I really was with sharing my work. It surprised me because in '96, after my degree, I lept at chances to show my work. Yes, there would be a little bit of anxiety but nothing debillitating.

When I purchased my camera last September, I had begun working again. And...the work took a dramatic turn. I was now learning to paint from my belly and cunt instead of only from my head. And I would post images of some of the work. I was proud of what I was doing.

So the realization of the terror I carried surprised me. It happened on Monday when I brought a batch of paintings to the studio. I shared them with a passionate art lover and then two artists. In doing so, anxiety filled me. Each morning since, I wished I could be anything other than artist. I didn't want to do this. The fear weighed heavy on my chest and I couldn't breathe.

My face was breaking out with painful zits...and I have never been prone to them. Not even as a teen.

I wanted to remain in bed and totally wash this art stuff out of my being.


And yet, a part of me was on autopilot. I was doing what I needed to.

By yesterday I was easing into it. My joy and excitement was returning. I had popped over to the studio during my work day, for lunch...spending a bit of time getting to know the space and letting it feel me as well.

After work I returned and tried out ideas for showing the work.

At the last minute I decided to take today off. I'll go in later this morning and leisurely finish hanging my pieces.

What am I showing?

I'm naming it: You're Scaring Me...

They are a few of the ink sketches I did when I was told I may have ovarian cancer. I chose that series because it was the first time I painted through my terror. The first few nights, I'd be working at the table, brush to paper, sobbing, and kept repeating out loud "you're scaring me...you're scaring me..." I was speaking to my cyst.

It's the perfect work to show.

~On Monday I dropped off the first batch of paintings at the studio. While there, I received the keys.


~I was invited by our ABC TV affiliate to a blogger meetup on Thursday night. This is something new they put together. Although curious...I rsvp'd my regrets because it conflicts with my first First Thursday art walk.


~The artist who's leaving the space had a large canvas she had stretched and gessoed. It's about 4 feet by 10 feet. She mentioned that she couldn't take it to the new space with her, and was going to sell it.

I jumped on it.

On Monday I told her my ideas for the canvas. She got chills. Her intention for the canvas was a very similar type of painting. It's a passing the torch of sorts.


~For the space I wanted to find a small couch on freecycle or something. Free or very cheap. Yesterday morning I found a free one on Craig's list. They had put it on the street and it needed to be moved asap. So C and I left work and ran over to Ballard. It was a beautiful loveseat. Amazing condition. Very comfortable.

It JUST fit in the back of his Subaru wagon and we took it to the studio. Returning to the car we found a $44 parking ticket.

So...no longer free. But cheap.


~Last night was a wonderful dinner with Craig and Daniel. We ended up at Duke's...on the top deck, at Alki. Within 10 minutes of sitting there, Malixe was walking in with a friend. D called down to them and they came up and joined us.

What tripped me out was that Malixe's friend, S, is someone that my former Mentor had wanted me to meet about 6 years ago! The man doesn't live in Seattle...and I figured it would never happen.

Life is funny...isn't it?

And...here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

When I was in NYC, I noticed some weirdness with my iShuffle. It wasn't playing a whole chunk of music was was supposedly on there. I looked at the library...updated the shuffle a few times and yet...they weren't coming up.

Since that trip, I haven't done anything with my shuffle. Until Sunday. I was determined to figure out the problem.

I went in and dumped all the old info out of the shuffle and then created a new playlist and updated. It was still not taking everything.

Annoying.

I couldn't understand because it used to play it all. In frustration, I attempted to drag one song into the shuffle. A message came up saying that this computer wasn't authorized to accept this song from the iTunes Music store.

More confusion. I had purchased the music on this laptop.

Then, a thought. In mid May, my computer froze up. I took it to my computer geek friend and he grabbed the guts and dumped it on his server...and then rebuilt it back...with his version of the OS, etc. I assumed that because the guts were different, iTunes couldn't see old Sam (the name of my hard drive).

In googling to figure out how to resolve this, I discovered something new: you can authorize up to 5 computers to accept your iTunes music store purchases.

My shuffle is happy once again.

Life has been internally and externally quite full.

There's much going on with prepping for my move to the studio including dealing with the reality that I may actually show work for first Thursday which happens this week.

I keep thinking "if I show something" but that's fear speaking. Down deep I know I will put something up. It's an intense move toward christening the studio and inaugurating this next step in my life as a painter.

Last night, in a wonderful as well as powerful phone call with N, I gave him my ideas for what, how and why I'm going to show this particular series. He concurred.

Today I need to cull the work and make decisions.

Once it's up, I'll take a photo and share my ideas about it here.

In addition, today I'm also feeling the vastness of 3000 miles. Sometimes it doesn't matter how close emotionally because even in that, there are moments when the physically distance is wearing.

t-shirt:

Although busting to tell the whole world last night...I waited until I shared it with N first.





I have a studio space!

All I need to do now is connect with the artist who's moving out to arrange schedules and get the keys. I'll see if we can get together this weekend. On Wednesday, it will officially be my work space.

Last night after meeting at the studio, I cried on the way home. Feelings of awe, excitement and disbelief overtook me. And it's daunting. All of a sudden I felt my responsibility to the work.

This is very good.

Busy day today. And tonight I'm meeting with the artist who holds the lease on the space. I should know if I definitely have the studio. I'm looking forward to moving all my art stuff over there and reclaiming my kitchen table and living space.

Even more than that, I'm already dreaming about the wall space to hang work in progress to study it at the same time. What a luxury!

And...the space to work big is exciting. Just the idea gets me wet.

What's this?



And this?



The first is around the side...and the second is across the street of what may be my new and very first, not in a second bedroom or living room, studio space!

I looked at the space yesterday afternoon. Even before entering the building, while walking around, I could see myself there. Meeting the artist who I'd be replacing was a treat. Her energy was warm and wonderful. Walking into the studio (shared with 3 other artists) was also amazing. Immediately I calmed down. They are also painters. Although they weren't there, I could feel the diligence they bring to their work just by seeing it. Impressive.

One thing I love...and at times makes it challenging, is the sensitivity I have toward energy. When it's good and clean I feel it right away. It overtakes me and surrounds me. I walked in yesterday...and I knew.

The building is filled with artists. It's part of the first Thursday art walk. My space is on the 4th floor, and it would have a window on the right side. Southern exposure which is perfect for those dark Seattle winters.

I've worked in artistic isolation for 10 years. This new step will be good for me. Surrounded by creative energy will be rejuvenating. Until a few weeks ago I would have never considered sharing open work space and love it when I can open further to see other possibilities.

The icing on the cake is that I'm directly across the street from the ferry dock. I could smell the salt air, and imagined myself going to the water when I'm stuck on a painting or need to take a break.

I told the artist that I wanted the space and could move in the first of August but I definitely wanted to sleep on it. (Just being prudent). So I've slept on it, will call her this morning and we'll set up a time for the other 3 painters to meet me. And if it continues to go well...I'll have a work space!


This week's Freewill Astrology.

Last night I worked some more on drawing copies of Old Masters works. And I'm committed to doing a little more tonight. It's a way of creating some sort of discipline again.

My day job this week is intense because it is of one those weeks with many complicated reports needed all at the same time. I'm back at work full time. It was nice not having the desire to fall asleep at 2 pm.


I'm working hard at not closing myself off. It's a funny thing. I think I begin to get the hang of it, go deeper, and then one of my old monsters shows up and next thing I know, I'm engulfed in fear and defenses. It's not an easy thing.

And the thing is, those monsters aren't real. They once were. A long time ago. Hanging onto my fear breathes life into the illusion. But it IS only an illusion.

A couple times over the last few years back I wrote about radical sex. I mentioned it was all about intimacy...not about how kinky or sex-positive we are. Our kink is surface stuff. Yes, s/m can assist with touching dark places. There have been intense scenes and breakthroughs that have risen from the depths of dungeon play. But the big question is "can I touch those places with another...without props?"

Being truly naked.

And how can we be naked with others if we can't be naked with ourselves...allowing ourselves to sit in the brutal honesty of self-realization that is filled with discomfort?

When I first mentioned self-intimacy as the most radical sexual act ...I had no idea of the depth. Now, I have a somewhat better sense. Yet this small increase in awareness informs me that I don't know anything.

Last week my shrink spoke to me of risk-taking. And, I'm afraid. When I think of the big scary things I've done in my life, seeing my fear now, this terror...is profound. It touches a part of my heart that has been so walled up.

I honestly don't know if I have the courage to live a life of greater integrity and vulnerability and it's eating me up inside.

Yesterday I ran to Utrecht's to pick up an inexpensive large drawing pad. Cheap paper. For playing and loosening up.

Although I have many ideas in my head for paintings, I just can't get there. Once again, as happened two years ago, I'm feeling squeezed out of my space. It feels so small and even the idea of painting seems incredibly difficult. I know I can do it. I've been doing it. But now...not so much.

I don't want to let my practice grind to a halt. I need to work. So graphite came to mind. Work pencil on paper. I began by playing and doodling...loosening up my hand by moving large chunks of graphite around. Then I ached for something darker and out came my Sharpie.

Afterward I even needed to step back from that. Simple scribbles felt like too much. I pulled out art books of some of the Masters and began copying in an attempt to regain some discipline without having to worry about composing a piece, yet instead honing my technique.

I fear I've lost my focus. There is much difficulty in sitting down and really engaging in the work. I'm hopping from one to another...never buckling down and chewing away. But I'm going to continue trying.


Today Phil had us over for D's homemade ice cream...peach and strawberry. There were also sorbets: watermelon, blueberry, lime and grape. Fabulous stuff.

When I walked into their home I saw this...



How could I not shoot it?

Last night's pot de creme from Smith's Pub 'n Grub. As you can see, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Smith's is a new bar a few blocks from my house. Dark walls filled with many old paintings, dead animals and antlers without heads. The menu includes devilled eggs and poutine. Not bad at all.

Although I thoroughly enjoyed the first three Harry Potter books, I never got around to reading the others. So I have some work to do to play catch up.

I'm blogging from Hot Dish, waiting for friends for brunch.

There is much on my mind and so blogging is a little challenging right now. I'm focused on the gauntlet thrown down by my shrink. This means you're getting blog-lite from me.

Yesterday I saw Ratatouille again. 10 of us gathered together. 3 of us experienced it for the second time. We almost filled a whole row. Much laughter. I caught more details this time around. The creator of the film is definitely a sadist.

Lesson we took from the movie: If you don't like it, don't swallow.

Fun t-shirt I saw a few days ago:
Everytime you see a rainbow
God is having gay sex.

Gentle spirits are rare. I truly cherish the ones in my life.

Today my shrink was thrilled that I began the process of reclaiming my blog. I showed him both..the original entry and the edits I did later in the afternoon. And yet, it wasn't enough for him. The man pushes...and pushes. I can tell him the good things, and he'll smile and acknowledge the work to then say "what about this...or that?" I appreciate the fact that he's a tough taskmaster. He doesn't let me rest. For a couple weeks now, I've returned to seeing him once a week instead of once every two or three.

Finally got my hair chopped today. A little scissor action, a little razor and a little buzzing. It's been far too long.

I haven't worked on the art in about a week. My house has fallen apart around me since my surgery. Low energy meant low upkeep.

While thinking about it yesterday I realized that when my house is clean I'm more energized. So no matter how tired I was, I committed to begin picking up after I got home. Doing three loads of laundry, a full sink of dishes and getting rid of the trash was encouraging. In addition, I finally organized the paintings into two stacks - completed works off to the side so I don't grab one in a painting frenzy and paint over it, and the canvases that need to be worked over.


Another part of the exhaustion is because I've been working through something specific. The last 9 months, in addition to a most surprising and wonderful experience, I've been immersed in what was feeling like an increasingly horrific situation. My therapist, as kinky, queer and open as he is, admitted that it's a situation wrought with intense complexities.

Whenever I would despair, he'd remind me of that fact in an effort to show me my strength. In addition, he'd remind me of how brilliant it all is because this would push me through greater healing at a much quicker pace.

Yes my head understood all that. But in my heart, all I was feeling was claustrophic...trapped in a nightmare where my pain was being replayed over and over again. All I could do was desperately hold on and trust I'd make it through.

On the surface, as someone attempted to tell me last winter, it appears to be simple. Yet it wasn't. Nor still is. Most things are not as they seem.

Other than a few confidantes, I haven't been able to speak of it. Instead, it was a matter of going through it and see an increase in how my childhood was replaying itself. It would even surprise me.

Through a wave of pain I would gain an insight and think "that's it!" only to wade through more muck and discover additional wounds. History unfolding.

In that, I am ever so slowly learning how to dissolve old wiring.

Because I've remained mostly silent, I understand that my silence may come across as cold and unfeeling. On the contrary. The silence is because I was feeling so much including an overwhelming sense of not feeling safe. For the first time in my life I can see a rich and textured fabric beneath the surface. Therefore, the silence has been a needed choice...for protection. I was, and although have recently been feeling a blossoming of internal strength, still am at times, raw, vulnerable and very fragile.

This entry is a clumsy step out of that silence. I remember when I knew I finally needed to come out to my parents. For a few weeks, there was a nagging in my heart which increased until it was time to tell them.

The last week has carried the same nagging feeling: a knowledge that it's time to step out of my safety zone. It's the culmination of one phase so I can continue to move forward. The pressure has been building inside and I know it's time to begin to open. Although still stumped with the best way to approach it, I trust that it will come together. In this process I'm learning patience.

There are many blessings and gifts within this time that I'm just now beginning to see. It isn't all pain.


Looking at the photo, I originally thought I was simply taking a photo of a couple clean plates. This morning I see how much deeper it goes. The subconscious continually amazes me.


Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Phil wrote about his wonderful birthday here.
And this is a little of what else happened. We were all honored to be a part of G & S's important moment.

I was pleased to see it had rained a little this morning. We need more.

Going through the massive amount of photos I shot on Sunday gave me painting ideas.

Especially this one:



Very high contrast because of the late afternoon sun (aka 8 pm Seattle time), I had to burn in the face a little. So I'm not fully pleased with the photo, but I can see the painting this will become.

Yesterday afternoon, into the evening, was surrounded by family. Celebrations abounded. It was an incredibly warm and fuzzy experience, immersed in caring and love. And...I was fully wiped by the time I returned home. It was only 9:30 and I walked in, peeled off my clothes and had to get to bed.

I may post more photos at some point, but first want to share them with the others.

This image is a paint-by-number (without a legend) mural on the back patio of Linda's, where we began part 1 of the festivities.

Friday, I received the confirmation I had been waiting for - my health insurance statement from my surgery.

Total: $5400.00
Patient responsibility: $0.00

So for the last year which included 4 ultrasounds, a buttload of bloodwork, 4 visits to the surgeon's office and outpatient surgery at Swedish hospital, my total expense has been $20.00 office visit copays for a total of $80.00.

This is what turning 45 years old looks like...



And here is pre-45...





Happy Birthday Hoss!

And thanks for being such a good friend - smart, caring, practical, loving and hot.
I'm glad we are family.

Friday the 13th.

Seattle rarely has thunderstorms. They happen maybe once a year. About 4 am I was awakened by the sound of glorious thunder. It then dissipated and returned about 5 hours later. No rain. Grey and cool today with a tumultuous sky. It's a refreshing change.



Maybe today is a good day to feel lucky. If so, consider entering Pride Foundation's Raffle with a Twist. It's a free raffle where you nominate a 501(c)3 nonprofit. If your entry is chosen, the agency you nominated will receive $2500 in your name.

The prizes are:

$2500 to the winning organization (from anywhere in the country not only the PNW) - randomly drawn from all entries.

AND

$1000 to the most frequently named non-profit from each of Pride Foundation's 5 state funding region:
Alaska
Idaho
Montana
Oregon
Washington

Just go to this link and fill out the information. If your name is drawn on September 14, 2007, Pride Foundation will make a donation in your name to the nonprofit you've chosen. That's it! No entry fee. And when you are done be sure to forward raffle link to your friends.

Randomness~


Don't you just hate it when you noticed a little piece of spinach or a poppy seed that's embedded itself at the base of your toothbrush bristles after brushing and then you have to fight with tweezers to pull the damned thing out?

Kava Kava is a wonderful thing.

I obtained a gmail email addy back in June and am still sitting on it. It's attached to Blogger and so by logging into one, it logs into the other. That makes me nervous because what if I forget to log out before leaving my work computer or something? Then I wouldn't be able to log into Blogger at home, or vice versa.

The last few days have been atypically hot. Good thing it's dry heat without the oppressive humidity. My corner apartment has north and east walls. When I leave for work in the morning on these hot days, I close windows and draw drapes. Returning in the afternoon isn't too bad. Opening things up and it's not oppressive. The fan helps.

With more demolition to make room for more damned condos, here's a Requiem for a Block that has always captivated me. Take a fun tour of the block here. I will miss the block when it's gone.

A couple interesting back to back (one night after the other) dreams:

Two nights ago I dreamt about someone I had been collared to.

Quickie back story - many, many years ago I was a 24/7 slave for about 3 months. It was a very emotionally abusive relationship. Although much pain at the time, I don't regret it because of all I learned from the experience. The last time I saw this person was about 4 years ago on the street. Walking with a friend, we bumped into this Top. My demeanor quickly changed to ice. I remained curt and coldly polite...chatted briefly and then parted.

My friend then asked me who that was because he said he had never seen me so cold.

In the dream, I again bumped into the person. This time, I was feeling my strength and in that, they didn't faze me. I didn't muddle my words and was very clear. As we walked away, I could feel their discomfort because they no longer had power over me.

Remembering the dream yesterday left me feeling good. It showed me I was working on my internal protection.

Last night I dreamt I lived in an apartment in an old house, on the first floor. I had been asking my landlords for some maintenance to assist with security and was frustrated because they weren't returning my calls.

Walking in after work I noticed a window was open. My heart sank because I knew someone had broken in. My laptop, with all my writing and photos, was missing. And my portfolio was unzipped and all my artwork pulled out and gone.

Two dreams about safety.

Today is going to be another very warm day (for Seattle). Compared to the rest of the country, we are fortunate. We don't get many 90 plus days and when we do, they are dry…very little humidity.

Yesterday, to find the a/c, I opted for a matinee - Ratatouille. It was great. It's not often I laugh out loud at the movies and was pleased to see that this film had some of those moments. Visually stunning.

A little while ago, I began thumbnails and worked a quick oil study for a certain concept. It's very much outside of my comfort zone because I'm dealing with a narrative of sorts....and possible characters.

I caught a PBS show on Monday night about the power behind Picasso's Guernica. While watching, I knew...strongly...that I could tackle the uncomfortable piece in the same way...and needed to be done. I literally saw myself working small drawings...then larger ones, pages taped together, and from there, painting on canvas.

This will be a story shared.

Watching Ratatouille yesterday fueled more thoughts for this endeavor. I'm not in a rush. It's something that needs to come naturally, not forced. And it excites me.

This week, my energy is double from last week. I'm still not working full days nor am I walking the distance I used to. But my pace is much quicker and my strength returning. A good thing.

Yesterday, before the film, C and I stopped at the art store. I wanted canvas paper. Damn, it's not cheap anymore. The next time, I'll simply purchase large thick sheets of drawing paper and gesso over them. The purchase also included tubes of acrylic paint. I haven't worked in acrylics since 1983 and decided to try them again. Maybe, especially during the summer, it will be better than a hot apartment and turpentine fumes. Also, for working through ideas, it will be simpler.

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Remember when I wrote about Creature Comforts? I haven't seen it aired in a few weeks and did a little research. It seems that CBS pulled it off the air after 3 weeks because of low ratings. They had never promoted the show! And they've decided to run repeats of bad sitcoms instead. The one good show on noncable TV and it gets pulled. Yuck.

I took the photo while at dinner yesterday....and am fond of it.

Two days ago I noticed this large red thing attached to 22 Doors restaurant and wondered what it was. Yesterday's Slog gave me the answer. I had to walk back to the corner to shoot it because the image would be the perfect opportunity to teach myself a photoshop trick I've been hankering to learn.

It's a red pushpin and part of The Push Pin Project.

(The website works in IE and Mozilla. If you're a Safari user, you can only access part of it. Grrrr. I had to wait until I came into work to fiddle through it.)

The Big Ass Table.

For the last few weeks, the group has been gathering at Hoss's for Sunday dinner. He and D are wonderful cooks. Loads of food and surrounded by family.

I've noticed that each week, the table gets a little more full.

Yesterday it received a 5 ft addition because we were 13 for dinner.

It's a Norman Rockwell event with better conversation and pervier jokes. Genuine caring, and much love which translates to no drama.

I'm very fortunate.

Thanks guys!

Promises You Make To Yourself With Your Fingers Crossed.


Thank you Drew for the idea.

It's an interesting exercise. In creating my list, I noticed that most of my promises made with my fingers crossed involved learning something.

Here we go~



Learn to play jazz piano.

Learn about wines

Own an Art Farm...a place for creative excitement, drawing artists and freethinkers together.

Have a second home at the ocean.

Live on a boat for a year. (It was offered to me and I turned it down.)

Study to become a Sacred Intimate.

Be a surrogate (Came close. Even met with prospective parents.)

Learn how to speak Italian.

Refresh my French.

and...

Be a professional painter where I paint full-time


(The last one is with my fingers crossed but not very tightly anymore. Maybe one day...)

I had hoped to be posting pictures of something else, such as a new studio and its surrounding, but it wasn't meant to be.

Yesterday morning I went to look at a live/work space. I expect the ad to come down soon because sadly, it had just been rented. Check out the link while you can (there are photos near the bottom).

The whole thing is only $75 more a month than what I'm paying for my 300 square ft apt. Right now, I'm working in about 5 square feet.

It was a little adventure worth going on. Afterward, C and I went to see the Hat and Boots, originally a gas station back in the '50's, and moved to Oxbow park a few years ago.




For years I had been fascinated by the old structures...sitting, rotting away in an empty lot and wondered what it looked like in its new setting. Although I'm glad they've been preserved, there was something so perfect in the desolation of it's original home.

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

It's the Fourth. I could go off on a diatribe but don't want to waste my breath. I haven't felt good about our country for a long time. Instead, check out this entry by Nayland Blake.

Each day brings more strength. I'm still taking it slow at work this week. It's a short week and I've opted to work half days, not to overdo it.

Yesterday, for the first time in almost a month, I painted.
The hunger has been there, but that was it. There wasn't any stamina to work.

Although I had given in to my body's need for rest, there was something very unsettling in the fact that I couldn't work. I felt stripped of my identity and purpose.

In slowing down, I stepped deeper into the shadows.

With the uncomfortableness came an excitement because it was the first time in my life I really saw who I was. Not being able to paint showed me I was born to do so. It wasn't a hobby. It wasn't something I can diddle with whenever the feeling comes up.

While resting yesterday afternoon, out of the blue, a massive surge of sexual energy filled me. It hungered for release. I knew it was time to paint.

I worked for an hour. 5 little oils, black on white. I posted a few of them yesterday. Quick little studies...moving my hand.

Jacking off on canvas is similar to playing with my cunt. The only thing I didn't do, because of prior instructions, was physically cum.

Being a pig, a perv, a masochist is an important part of my being, but painter is who I am. It needs to be first and foremost in my life. Everything else, although it can enhance, also has the dangerous potential of being a distraction. Vigilance is important. In that, discernment.

It needs to develop into a practice.

Each time I am at the worktable, regardless of whatever is going on in my head or heart, be it joy or anxiety, I feel the connectedness. It is my zazen, my time of meditation and centeredness.

It connects me to the fire in my soul and in doing so, blankets me in pure sexual energy.

A few of you tagged me for a meme that's been going around.

Instructions: Write about seven random facts or habits about you, and post with these rules. Choose 7 people to tag and list their names.


1. When I hit a problem at work, I say "uh oh..."
Coworkers in near offices would each pipe up "what's wrong?"
Then within about 30 seconds I'd always declare "oh, never mind."

It's only taken about 5 years, but now my coworkers know to not only not ask, but one of them will sometimes begin the countdown to my "oh, never mind."


2. Another work-related thing: when I'm happy, and I'm groovin' on a project... "la-la-la" slips out in three notes. If I were sitting at a piano, I could tell you which three they are...


3. When someone comments on how good the leftover dessert is...I tend to say "you know, it would be really good nuked for 10 seconds and then throw a scoop of ice cream on it..."
A few coworkers have teased me about creating such a cookbook.

But seriously, many left over desserts would be fab that way. It doesn't need to be piping hot...but just enough to melt the chocolate...into rich gooey deliciousness.


4. When I'm at home alone and troubled by something....I'll go outside, pace on the sidewalk and talk myself through the problem or issue. What is new is that I'm trying to be aware of using an internal voice instead of having folks think I'm nuts by muttering to myself in public.


5. If I'm sick, I have to pick up the clutter in my house before I lay down, otherwise I can't relax and be sick.


6. I can cum by having my hair pulled in just a certain spot. But if people do it and it feels like they are using me as a party-trick (which has happened)...it doesn't work. Instead, I just get pissed.


7. There are times when I need to pull back and retreat. It's not depression, yet instead, so much is happening and I don't know how or even if I should share. I'll open up to one or two, but even in those cases, there is a lot that remains inside.

This is one of those times and why it's been a while since I've done my regular kind of blogging.

My life is changing so quickly and I've been quite protective of these changes. I struggle between balancing the nurturing comfort of a cave to protect my newness with the awareness that I don't want shut people out...juggling both.


Bonus fact/quirk:
I'm not a tagger. So instead of tagging, any of you who'd like to share...I'd love to read it.