June Bug

Well, I have done lost my mind and found it again.  It is hard to believe that it is already June.  Time flies while zoned into a wee bit of obsession.  I let myself dream without limitations and thoroughly researched possibilities.  Then I cranked the math and reeled myself back to reality, but can’t let it go.

Maybe it is a little wacked, but I am thinking “renew, re-use, recycle” all pretty much mean the same thing:  take something old and make something new out of it.    It may never look or work or be the exact same way it used to be.   It might not have the same function anymore.  It has been re-purposed as something else.  I want to re-able me.

That’s my wacked idea.   I was DIS-abled.   I am never going to be the “able” me that I used to be, so I need RE-abled along the lines of renew, re-use, recycle.  I am my own art project.

After an honest assessment of what I can and cannot do, not just what I want to do or dream of doing, I wrote a business plan that includes the following criteria:

  • It must be something I can do, even with my limitations.
  • It must involve art, or go well with my art.
  • It must not require more than $5,000 initial investment.
  • It must have a profit potential of at least $2,000 a month.

I am not going to go into details… for one reason, I would be writing this post well into August.    Another reason is that I do not have five grand to invest, so it still feels too much like a dream.

My mind keeps twirling ways to raise the money without going into debt.  I am doing things like calling up the cable company and saying, “I want to play slash my bill” (eliminating WIFI and cable TV dropped it  from $106 to $22.41 a month)  and looking at other ways to cut my cost of living.

Hey… I could become a “minimalist” and sell off most my stuff.

I keep hoping people will buy my art – it is still on display at the Mocha House in Boardman and I have two pieces going into the YWCA show later this month.  People say they like it and they sure do want it if I am giving it away, but no one wants to pay $35 for a nicely matted and framed 5×7 drawing.  No one has texted or called to even ask if I’d take less.   That’s why my business plan needed something else going on besides art.

By the way (if you happened to notice),  I replaced the drawing used as my gravatar image with a “selfie” photo that I had cropped square and flipped to black and white.   Here is the uncropped color original if you are curious as to what I look like.  I was brave enough to throw it on Facebook, where I rarely post any “people photos” so oh well… why not.

wpid-img_20140512_015245.jpg

It’s not the best photo – no makeup, ratty old shirt, bad lighting, and hair not done to hide how thin it is getting on top.   Ye gads, it could be scary old lady hair with long wispy stands by the time I am 80 if I grew it long again.   I might do that, just for grins.  Yes, the mental image of myself at 80 makes me laugh.  People take things that don’t really matter way too seriously.

NEXT Zapped

WANTED:  small storefront with living quarters

I found out tonight that the small storefront with the cool address is commercial only AND already rented.  So much for dreaming out loud.

My “next” got zapped, but not really… just the location got zapped.  The idea remains.  Time to prep so when opportunity knocks, I will be ready to jump.  That means I can’t sign any leases locking me into anywhere until I find the kind of space where this dream can become a reality.  It would not hurt to save up and clean down, if you know what I mean.

I am surprised that no one guessed what number is equivalent to “Thursday Afternoon” in my head, so here is a serious hint:  Monday is the first day of a standard work week. 

Little Story

Once upon a time, this dude set out to row a boat across the ocean. He got almost there but he didn’t know it because he wasn’t quite close enough to see land yet. All he knew was that he was tired of rowing. He told himself that he’d never make it. The other side of the ocean was just too far away. So he turned around and rowed all the back home.

Okay, that’s it… the end.

That’s one of little stories my dad told us when we were kids, paraphased a bit as I know the story but forget the exact words. I don’t know if he made it up or heard it somewhere. He had a gentle way of guiding us, giving us things to think about while letting us make our own decisions at the same time.

I don’t remember him ever telling me a flat out “no” about anything over the age of twelve, although he did tell me to stop trying to enlist my sister. He was tired of military recruiters showing up at the house.

The art today has nothing much to do with the little story about the row boat. Its a scanner image of a 4×6 colored pencil drawing, not sure if I posted it before.

Thanks for reading!