Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Storm Comin' Through



When Neil and Marilyn van Keizerswaard's first race horse, Storm Comin' Through, won it's first race at about 10 to 1 odds, it seemed like an event to memorialize. Marilyn brought a finish-line photograph of Storm and said she'd like to give a painting of the moment to Neil for Christmas.

"It's not going to look like that photograph," I said.

"I know that," she said. "I want you do to your thing."

I sat around for several days wondering what to do with a horse named Storm and a jockey wearing pink. Yeah, he was wearing pink. Then lightening struck.

Merry Christmas, Neil.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Las Vegas Last Night

Can't talk about it. See Louise's blog if you're so bloody curious.

http://thechatteringcrow.blogspot.com

Love to all. I think.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Las Vegas Days and Nights

 We're in Las Vegas with Jerry and Peggy Brown. If Jerry and Peggy had invited us to Las Vegas to play blackjack or roulette or poker, we wouldn't be in Las Vegas. We wouldn't be here if they had asked us to go to the rodeo, which my students recommended, or to cruise any number of casinos. 

But that wouldn't have happened anyway, because Jerry and Peggy are kindred spirits. So tomorrow we'll hit some art galleries, including an Andy Warhol exhibit, and at some point we'll go to a show. But being non-planners, all that us still up in the air. We'll get up when we please, and we'll wait until the last breakfast is eating, and then we'll stroll out.

During all of that I'll try to take some photos like this one I took from our room or like Bill Cunningham shoots. Only I won't be riding a bike, and I won't be commenting on fashions of Las Vegas, because, hey, this isn't New York City. But I'm happy to be here with Louise and some good friends.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

TODAY IS ART DAY


Today is the happiest day of the week. Today I get to paint and play around with ideas and draw a little bit (I can't really draw), and I get to put people in monkey suits and change the shapes of their bodies. Today I get to fall in love with everyone I paint, because creating even shoddy art means falling in love with your subject. The above picture shows me falling in love with myself. Just a moment, please, while I hug myself. Mmmmmmmmm. Thank you, Deepak Chopra.

I love art day, because I get to go to Marian's class and laugh with Irwin and Judy and Rosemary and Leonard and Kathryn and Shep and Louise. It's the safest place in the world. No one is questioned, no one hears that their work is crappy. No one goes home feeling sorry for themselves, because we're all OK. Even if we aren't OK on other days.

So this morning I got up at 7, pitch dark, it could be 3, but that would be OK too, because I wake up thinking about a picture I'm going to do for someone for Christmas, but I can't say any more about it, because then he'd know. And I paint and paint. Not looking too bad. Too many strong green lines in the face, but I can blur them out. And he's just such a cute guy. Oops. Can't let out the secret.

And then I printed the big picture of myself above, which I've had for a long time. 17 x 25 inches. and I taped it on the wall, so that I can look at it even when I'm writing or painting. Just a spoonful of narcissism. It was a fairly early experiment, but if you wait to do something until it's perfect, you'll never finish. So I printed that and painted on this picture I'm giving for Christmas.

I didn't know this for so many years of my life. I didn't know that lines, and shapes, and color, and faces and hands and feet and other parts make me so happy.

Anyway, as I was saying, today is a happy day. Oh, and my friend B. doesn't have cancer, and that makes this day ever so much better.

And here's a picture of Marian, my art teacher, and me on a warm summer's day. Wouldn't take that picture today, because it's too damn cold outside. But inside, deep inside me, it's toasty warm. Because Today is Art Day.


Thursday, December 5, 2013

The Well Defined Buttocks



For the past two years, I've taught beginning English composition at Utah Valley University. One of my jobs in these courses is to help students to become sensitive to "rhetoric." I had not thrown the word "rhetoric" around loosely or tightly before, so I had some things to learn as well. Basically, "rhetoric" refers to how we use language, the tone we strike with language. An ad with a gekko advertising car insurance, does not use the same tone as a person bearing solemn testimony in a church meeting. 

There are, for example, various ways of saying, "I have to go to the bathroom." This was brought to my abrupt attention during one class, when a male student stood up and was making his way out of the room.

"Where are you going?" I asked. 

FOR THOSE OF YOU WITH SENSITIVE EARS, STOP READING HERE. 

He said, "I gotta take a piss."

SENSITIVE EARS MAY RESUME READING HERE. 

This startled me, because it was both a) clearly stated, and b) strikingly out of place for how I would speak to a professor. Nonetheless, I waved him on. The next class period, I took advantage of the previous situation by using it to discuss rhetoric. The question I asked was, "How many ways can you say, 'I have to go to the bathroom'"? We arranged and ranked the list from 10) extremely proper to 1) crude. So, for example, the top of the list might be, "May I excuse myself for a moment?" to my student's blunt statement of fact at the bottom of the list.

I am now passing along to those of you whose rapt attention has not waned, a very short piece that appeared in Harper's Magazine in June 1992. It struck me terribly funny, but I realize that my sense of humor is skewed, possibly skewered. It is preceded by a brief explanation in Italics:


From the “definitions” section of an ordinance on public nudity passed in March by the St. Johns County, Florida, board of commissioners. The ordinance prohibits the public display of genitals, breasts, and buttocks, and specifically forbids “G-strings, T-backs, dental floss, and thongs.”

Buttocks: The area at the rear of the human body (sometimes referred to as the gluteus maximus) which lies between two imaginary straight lines running parallel to the ground when a person is standing, the first or top such line being a half-inch below the top of the vertical cleavage of the nates (i.e., the prominence formed by the muscles running from the back of the hip to the back of the leg) and the second or bottom such line being a half-inch above the lowest point of the curvature of the fleshy protuberance (sometimes referred to as the gluteal fold) and between two imaginary straight lines, one on each side of the body (the straight lines, one on each side of the body (the “outside lines”), which outside lines are perpendicular to the ground and to the horizontal lines described above, and which perpendicular outside lines pass through the outermost point(s) at which each nate meets the outer side of each leg. Notwithstanding the above, buttocks shall not include the leg, the hamstring muscle below the gluteal fold, the tensor fasciae latae muscles, or any of the above described portion of the human body that is between either (i) the left inside perpendicular line and the left outside perpendicular line or (ii) the right inside perpendicular line and the right outside perpendicular line. For the purpose of the previous sentence, the left inside perpendicular line shall be an imaginary straight line on the left side of the anus (i) that is perpendicular to the ground and to the horizontal lines described above and (ii) that is one third of the distance from the anus to the left outside line. (The above description can generally be described as covering one third of the buttocks centered over the cleavage for the length of the cleavage.)

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Thanksgiving on Black Friday

Thanksgiving is for the inlaws to take their daughters and our sons. Black Friday is our day, and we have celebrated in many ways. Possibly the Utah favorite is to have dinner at the Lion House, then walk to Temple Square to see the lights, which have just been turned on. Last night was at our home, and it felt good.

Gorgeous Louise with her gorgeous table setting

Encore

The table.

Place setting

Hors d'oeuvres

Sally, the youngest and most adored
Maxwell eating grape for ironic effect

Mira, our show girl

Rian, our college girl

Rian's shoes

Elliot, the serious one

Louis, the trickster

Sally encore. Sorry I didn't fix the sweater, Sarah

Sam

Sarah

Sarah's new hair do--cheeeeeers

Charles and Erica in a mood

Charles and Erica in a different mood

Louise in various attitudes




Tom


Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Stripping

While some of you may be given to lascivious thoughts at the title of this blog, let me suggest that you reconsider. If I were stripping in front of you, pole dancing, jiggling around, you would break into uncontrollable gagging. First the shirt. Oh, no, look at those moles. It's a fungus farm. Can you harvest those for food in an emergency? Are those little red things cherry tomatoes? No, they're little red moles, and I don't know what they're called. Well what about ...

Rest assured, dear reader, I am not going there. Not in this blog. Maybe tomorrow's blog, because I'm seeing the dermatologist in one hour and 15 minutes. For the first time in many moons. Please, those of you who are righteously and dermatologically enabled, who seek out the dermatologist at every full moon, please please resist scolding.

The stripping I am referring to at this moment is stripping a table top, or should I say the leaf of a table, which Louise and I bought while we were living in Minnesota. It is a family heirloom of sorts, which be bought at the odds and ends room of Gabbert's Furniture. We had bought a new home, which had a large dining room, and knowing full well that we could not afford a dining table, we went shopping. That's just our foolish way. Gabberts has a room of slightly damaged furniture, and Louise headed in there while I headed for the bathroom. I came out to see Louise with her upper body and arms literally spread over the surface of this Henredon table, a table that would retail for as much as we made in two or three months. The price on this table, however, was $99. I looked underneath to find that one of the blocks holding a leg in place had split, and that a couple of bolts would put it right. The men who delivered the table offered us $300, which we declined, knowing that the universe had bestowed grace on two energetic if foolish people.

But now the surface of the talbe has worn a bit. Louise undertook to strip the main surface but needed additional work on a leaf before the advent of Thanksgiving, sometimes now mistaken for pre-Christmas. Last night I got more stripper (you know what I mean, so stop it), a brush, and other paraphernalia used for stripping. And strip I did for the last two hours. Is it perfect? Probably not quite. But it's almost perfect, and so it sits in the garage awaiting its invitation to the table.

It will be covered with Louise's finery while General Custer, my small contribution, greets the guests at the door.  He, of course, will be a dead duck with no real prospects for a turkey dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone. Tell us about your plans. Please. Enquiring minds want to know.