Lamp Post

Conversation with the vet:

Babe, what do you call this?
Uh… a lamppost.
I know it’s a lamppost, but what do you call it now?
It’s still a lamppost.
But, what is it? It’s got to be called something else.

So, what do you call a lamppost that looks a little different than other lampposts?

Drum rolls or eye rolls, we agreed on “artsy” as the adjective.
It’s just a lamppost, but… he can call it an artsy lamppost if he so pleases.
Give me time, sweet man. That rusty ol’ pole won’t be the first clue of an artist in residence.

I did give it a fresh coat of paint and pounded a wooden spoon paddle into the ground beside the base to help wedge it up a bit straighter. It’s the stained glass inserts that make him think it needs a new name. They were fun to make but took awhile as I had sold my glass grinder and my hands kept cramping up with bones locked in a shadow play duck position.

Photos snapped along the way:

Had to revamp this plan… clear glass was too thick for my came.

New plan… going with the blues. This is a “use whatcha got” project.

Forget the Dremel… this glass file works GREAT!

Hand cramps: with a flashlight and sheet, we could call that a duck.

Putting it together… yeah, it’s been awhile.
And I couldn’t find my plastic dodahs for the horseshoe nails.

All done… surprised it glows oranges.

Thanks for reading!

Sweep

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Sweep

a representational abstract in colored pencil (polychromos)
9 x 11 inches, matted 11 x 14, ready to frame

Thanks for looking!

 

Little Changes

Chin up and Cheerios, to hell with resolutions… it’s time to make some little changes.

I put a work table in my office, still have some boxes stashed in there that need unpacked, but I need to start making art again.

Doc added Welbutrin to my med mix to kill two birds with one stone as that anti-depressant should also help reduce nicotine cravings. I’m not allowed to drink while I’m on that and I still have about three inches left in a pint of Rumple Minze that I stashed back to have something to toast in the New Year, so pills can wait until January.

I’ll be so glad to see the holidays over. Christmas was not a good day for me.

Like, on what planet is it okay to wake up in your girlfriend’s bed on December 25th and not give the woman you supposedly love a present? It doesn’t have to be extravagant or expensive, just some little something that says “hey babe… this reminded me of you… I thought of you…” Hell, it could be a used coffee mug or a 75 cent sherry glass from a thrift shop, one frikkin pencil, or even a wrapped up candy bar. Anything… after all, it is the thought that counts.

If it’s the thought that counts, giving me nothing makes me wonder if I count.

I’ve racked my brain trying to figure it out… stepped back, looked at the bigger picture. There’s some strange dynamics going on… as far as I can tell, I somehow inherited some agreement from his previous relationship, perhaps made in lean times, to focus on children and now that the children are raised, the focus is on grandchildren.  I know he gave money to the mommies to buy gifts for young ones… but he did not exchange gifts with anyone, not even his adult daughters. I am the only one who gave him a gift… wasn’t much, just a scarf, but that’s really kind of messed up.

Yes, the whole Santa thing “is for children” and the holidays are way too commercialized, but damn it… my inner child wants to open a present on Christmas day.

I did not say anything… we did not discuss it, still haven’t… he gives me gifts on other occasions, perfume for my birthday, came in today with a blood pressure monitor that he ordered from a catalog, so I don’t get the Christmas thing.

 

LATER:  New Year’s Eve was a quiet, sober night at home. He said that he wanted to be asleep before midnight, but ended up picking on me, yakking on his phone, and watching television. He was playful, not mean… but to hell with any fantasy of bringing in the New Year right.

I’m up in the wee hours…  between the “I’m watching that” basketball game and his snoring like a freight train (obviously not watching that) and a few tears on my pillow, I had enough… got up, found my pint, poured a cup of coffee, and started a new drawing. Couple hours later, he’s breathing easy and the TV is off. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

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Here’s the start of the new drawing, quick snap by cell phone. It’s so not done yet… just laid in some colors along an idea of sweeping changes through my life. Thanks for reading.