Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Who Needs Monk?

These are the last of the Angst Heads. Number two from yesterday still ranks high, but I love all of them. They took me through a very difficult loss, much more devastating than losing a bauble. They actually helped me come out on my feet and ready to forge ahead. (Pun? You bet). Having art at your figure tips is a blessing.













Between your comments and my replys and an experiment I conducted this morning that made me burst into tears, the ring incident is over. I'm a person who believes in the three day sulk. After that, life as usual. My three days--actually close to a week, I may have broken my own rule--are up. My sinuses are cleared. My head is on straight. My mind is relatively satisfied I've come up with a plausible explanation. I will confirm it this Friday.

When the box was lifted, during cleaning, it was lifted by its lid and the weight of what was in it made the contents spill, scatter and tip the contents of the dish at the same time. That's what happened this morning. The spread of the scatter depended upon how fast the box was lifted. I wish I had been called to help put the stuff away. I was not. It was cleaned up as best as remembered. That accounts for why there were a couple of strange rings in the dish. That accounts for why nothing else was missing. The rate of scatter could have sent the ring flying into the waste basket below, a lucky drop off the face of the earth for some metal detecting enthusiast in the next millennium. Hopefully it's a homeless guy and not some rich dude looking to be entertained in his retirement.

TOMORROW I'LL BE BACK TO STRAWBERRY FIELDS






15 comments:

  1. Beautiful drawings and wise reflections.

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    1. It is an interesting group. I should have had the stamina to stick with the drawings long enough to find an appropriate poem or something. I didn't. I held Ellis' hand.

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  2. Here's a poem for you, my friend

    Emyr Lewis: LOST THINGS (From Welsh)

    Unburied and unelegized they lie:
    we have no ritual for what we lose,
    only curt curses for them now and again
    until we loose them out beyond our ken.

    The Original
    Heb eu claddu, heb eu marwnadu’n iawn:
    nid oes defodau cymwys i bethau coll,
    dim ond bytheirio byr o dro i dro
    cyn ymryddhau, a’u gollwng nhw dros go’

    The Drawings are mind-blowing.

    Those Beatles ... and the Mania for them lives on. Paul McCartney is playing at the opening of the Olympics ceremony on Friday (sadly most of his voice has gone).

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    1. Absolutely. Their lyrics and music is a treasure. Yes, I noticed that Sir Paul's voice is getting gravelly. Now there's a loss.

      Thank you John. Now, I'll put them back in their envelope and tuck them safely in my files. These are not for hanging in this house. They are too much of a reminder of bad times. I've never done any more of these since--even with the cancer hit. There was a procedure to go through with the cancer. We had no idea what to do when everything was falling around us. Talk about lost.

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  3. This is a very strong group of drawings that pay a lot of viewing. Mystery, questions and layers of potential meaning. Now that's what art is about.

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    1. Thanks Mick. that's quite a compliment. Now back to landscapes and flowers and grandchildren, less deep stuff. I'm tired of deep.

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  4. I think those are marvelous, not saying that I have seen all your work, but what I have seen, those black and whites are my favorites of yours.

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    1. That's it Roger. Those eight. I was so busy building a new life after I did those, I never drew free association again. Still haven't. I don't feel compelled until there's something compelling and there's nothing I can do except speak art. So far, life's pretty normal. And I like it like that. I can take simple losses in my stride, even though you might not think so from the last two posts:)) It's the big stuff that shuts my mouth and makes me talk with my pens.

      This kind of art can drive you crazy. If you try to make it, then it becomes phony. You need to feel compelled. Just think of all those ugly paintings you've seen where blood is dripping and there's lots of black or dirty greens and dying figures with only white highlights. Okay, if your country is at war and people are dying in the streets in front of you, but it's crap if the artist lives in Manhattan and after his paint session goes to the pub.

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  5. Dear Linda,I see more great works, paid a heavy price! It 's good to be back to normal ... I have spent years complicated and now I appreciate the quiet,the normality.
    Sometimes I'm willing to pretend that the problems are over and I declare myself in
    holiday. I leave my problems and I am committed to living some days great! Start with a glass of sparkling wine ... continues with a short trip, even in a place that I like.
    Tomorrow I go to Turin, my husband is on holiday from work and ... even though
    any problems remains the same, I decided that, a few hours of this life ... I can have half my age and act accordingly!
    Have a beautiful day of summer,tomorrow!

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    1. Dear Rita do enjoy your holiday. My tomorrow will be spent at home watching television. I have a medical procedure in the AM where they will knock me out. I'm looking forward to drawing on the couch till I come back to my senses. You sound like a woan I could learn a lot from. Going with the flow, as they say, isn't easy for me. Thursday I'll be back on vacation.

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  6. So sad to lose your treasured jewel, Linda.
    Your drawings of loss are intricate and thought provoking - I found myself looking at them deeply. There is much to see and that is surely a sign of wonderfulness!

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    1. Extremely sad, Susan, but I'm done with that, (she said over and over again until she almost believed it). I felt the wind in my face, as I imagined myself racing across fields perched atop one of those gorgeous horses you painted. Much more invigorating and stimulating than angst and regret which stops you dead in your tracks.

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  7. LInda, your sketches are most profound. I am sorry they came at such a price.

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    1. Maybe that angst is necessary to rouse the subconscious and produce such images?

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  8. Dear Linda, please visit my blog. There's an award for you!
    Cheers.

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