This is worth watching.
First Commissioned Portrait
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This is drawn in a computer program, then printed, then transferred onto wood, then painted on a little bit, and then I added a glaze. It's all based on a photograph. I have a question, though: how much should I charge? The size is 8 by 10. It's on wood.
I just have absolutely no idea. It seems like such an improper question, somehow.
This one, by the way, is already paid for- it was a trade for something beautiful that another artist did. I'll show you what I got for it in a different post. (It's night right now, and so not a good time to take a picture of it.) But now people are asking me about portraits of their children and such. Which is great! And terrifying, honestly.
The Book: Prequel
When I first started driving, I needed someone to be sitting with me in order to drive well. It's difficult to say why, but when someone else was with me, I was a cautious driver. When I was alone, however, I might take a hairpin curve at sixty.
Writing is like that, too. If I write here, I try real hard and stuff. If I "write a book" which some fantasy person in the faraway future is going to read, it just doesn't turn out right. I've been writing the book I promised, and... it's blah. Yucky. It has its moments, and I'm not just going to scrap the whole thing, but still. Blah.
So, this is the new plan: you are going to be in the car with me. You are going to scream if I am approaching the corner at sixty. You are going to be the observer of my electrons, and by the very act of reading, you will affect the reality of my writing.
Every Monday, I will post a new chapter to the book, which I have yet to title. It is the mostly true story of a journey I took twenty years ago from Colorado to Pennsylvania, via Greyhound bus. As the crow flies, that's 1,680 miles (2,704 kilometers) by bus. I was young and naive and silly and I wore a big white coat (my Grace Kelly coat) the whole way.
Every Monday, I will post a new chapter.
If a Monday goes by when I do not post a chapter, you may flog me until I type out those words. Or maybe just send me a sweet little reminder.
I'm still unsure if I should include pictures. Today, though, I have one. This was the original title and cover picture:
but then I changed the content. And the title doesn't fit, anymore.
Writing is like that, too. If I write here, I try real hard and stuff. If I "write a book" which some fantasy person in the faraway future is going to read, it just doesn't turn out right. I've been writing the book I promised, and... it's blah. Yucky. It has its moments, and I'm not just going to scrap the whole thing, but still. Blah.
So, this is the new plan: you are going to be in the car with me. You are going to scream if I am approaching the corner at sixty. You are going to be the observer of my electrons, and by the very act of reading, you will affect the reality of my writing.
Every Monday, I will post a new chapter to the book, which I have yet to title. It is the mostly true story of a journey I took twenty years ago from Colorado to Pennsylvania, via Greyhound bus. As the crow flies, that's 1,680 miles (2,704 kilometers) by bus. I was young and naive and silly and I wore a big white coat (my Grace Kelly coat) the whole way.
Every Monday, I will post a new chapter.
If a Monday goes by when I do not post a chapter, you may flog me until I type out those words. Or maybe just send me a sweet little reminder.
I'm still unsure if I should include pictures. Today, though, I have one. This was the original title and cover picture:
but then I changed the content. And the title doesn't fit, anymore.
"I'm in need!"
When you're poor, it becomes an imperative to hide it. You'll do anything so that no one notices you are any different from anyone else, in any income level. We're all the same. We're all middle class. Nobody is different in any way. Nothing to see, here. Move along.
My grandma and grandpa struggled to raise six children, and years after the children were grown, Grandma was still in this state of mind where she didn't need any help, no thank you. She sent me $20 once, and I sent it back to her, saying I didn't need it, it was okay, and she got really mad at me! She wanted me to have that money. It was shameful to her, somehow, that I should send it back. I learned my lesson and alway kept her money, from then on.
Grandma is a Christian. She would like her children to go to church with her, but basically, none of the six kids turned out to be religious. Occasionally, one will go with her to church, but really just to make her happy. I suppose that it usually does make her happy when they go to church with her, except for this one time, years and years ago, when my Aunt Donna went to church with Grandma.
Aunt Donna has since passed on. One thing I remember about her was that she didn't worry about what anyone thought of her.
This church visit was before I was born. Donna was a young adult, in her twenties, and she went to church with Grandma one Sunday. They sat through the sermon, the psalms, the whatever they do in church, and the collection. At this church, the pastor was a little bit modern. When he got all of the collection together, he would hold up this tray of money, and say,
"If anyone here is in need, and needs this money more than this church, please come and take of this money, now."
Generally, everyone just sat there for a minute. Nothing happened. Then, they said a prayer.
That was how it worked. He just said that, but basically nobody took the money.
On this particular day, however, Aunt Donna was with Grandma. The pastor took the collection, held up the tray of cash, and said,
"If anyone here is in need, and needs this money more than this church, please come and take of this money, now."
And Aunt Donna stood up.
"What are you doing?" Grandma whispered, urgently. She knew, though. She knew exactly what Donna was doing.
"I'm in need," said Donna.
And she walked up to the pastor, and she took a handful of cash. She marched right back to her seat and stuck the money in her purse.
She was in need.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall, and see the look on Grandma's face when she did that!
My grandma and grandpa struggled to raise six children, and years after the children were grown, Grandma was still in this state of mind where she didn't need any help, no thank you. She sent me $20 once, and I sent it back to her, saying I didn't need it, it was okay, and she got really mad at me! She wanted me to have that money. It was shameful to her, somehow, that I should send it back. I learned my lesson and alway kept her money, from then on.
Grandma is a Christian. She would like her children to go to church with her, but basically, none of the six kids turned out to be religious. Occasionally, one will go with her to church, but really just to make her happy. I suppose that it usually does make her happy when they go to church with her, except for this one time, years and years ago, when my Aunt Donna went to church with Grandma.
Aunt Donna has since passed on. One thing I remember about her was that she didn't worry about what anyone thought of her.
This church visit was before I was born. Donna was a young adult, in her twenties, and she went to church with Grandma one Sunday. They sat through the sermon, the psalms, the whatever they do in church, and the collection. At this church, the pastor was a little bit modern. When he got all of the collection together, he would hold up this tray of money, and say,
"If anyone here is in need, and needs this money more than this church, please come and take of this money, now."
Generally, everyone just sat there for a minute. Nothing happened. Then, they said a prayer.
That was how it worked. He just said that, but basically nobody took the money.
On this particular day, however, Aunt Donna was with Grandma. The pastor took the collection, held up the tray of cash, and said,
"If anyone here is in need, and needs this money more than this church, please come and take of this money, now."
And Aunt Donna stood up.
"What are you doing?" Grandma whispered, urgently. She knew, though. She knew exactly what Donna was doing.
"I'm in need," said Donna.
And she walked up to the pastor, and she took a handful of cash. She marched right back to her seat and stuck the money in her purse.
She was in need.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall, and see the look on Grandma's face when she did that!
Purgatory
So, I was continuing my quest for old tax documents today, and came across this from 1998:
This was when I worked at Purgatory. Purgatory was a ski resort, just up the mountain from Durango, Colorado. Now, they call it "Durango Mountain Resort". Really? The river that runs through Durango is called "Las Animas" or "The River of Lost Souls," which, to my mind, means that Purgatory is, I mean, I just can't, I mean... WHY? WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU CHANGE THE NAME OF PURGATORY? WHY?
It was too cool, that's why.
So, to take stock:
1. Purgatory is now Durango Mountain Resort.
2. The Center for Inner Peace, where I got married, is now a Starbuck's.
3. USC Pueblo, where I got my teacher training, is now... I can't remember what they changed the name to.
Anyway, it's still kind of cool to have a name tag that says I work at a hotel in Purgatory, don't you think? Maybe I'll just start wearing it around. I'm sure it will impress the sheep.
Update: I was looking at the web site for Durango Mountain Resort, and they have added the "Purgatory" to the beginning, now. Well, okay. Better.
This was when I worked at Purgatory. Purgatory was a ski resort, just up the mountain from Durango, Colorado. Now, they call it "Durango Mountain Resort". Really? The river that runs through Durango is called "Las Animas" or "The River of Lost Souls," which, to my mind, means that Purgatory is, I mean, I just can't, I mean... WHY? WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU CHANGE THE NAME OF PURGATORY? WHY?
It was too cool, that's why.
So, to take stock:
1. Purgatory is now Durango Mountain Resort.
2. The Center for Inner Peace, where I got married, is now a Starbuck's.
3. USC Pueblo, where I got my teacher training, is now... I can't remember what they changed the name to.
Anyway, it's still kind of cool to have a name tag that says I work at a hotel in Purgatory, don't you think? Maybe I'll just start wearing it around. I'm sure it will impress the sheep.
Update: I was looking at the web site for Durango Mountain Resort, and they have added the "Purgatory" to the beginning, now. Well, okay. Better.
Being Sentimental about a Car
This is my aunt, Lou Buckingham, singing about her favorite car, a Valiant:
A friend of mine is sad to lose a car this week. I think we've all been there. My favorite car, that I still miss, was a '79 Pontiac Bonneville. It was a boat. Everyone got out of my way, wherever I went. I could merge into traffic in the space of ten feet. It was brown with a Lando top. Tan interior. Once, I fell asleep in the back of it on my coffee break, woke up disoriented, and snuck back into work at Sears. No one seemed to notice I'd been gone for an hour or so. It was the kind of car you could stretch out in the back of and take a nap. It had some after-factory upgrades. It was, you know, my ride.
I always drove it with the windows open. I can almost still feel the wind.
A friend of mine is sad to lose a car this week. I think we've all been there. My favorite car, that I still miss, was a '79 Pontiac Bonneville. It was a boat. Everyone got out of my way, wherever I went. I could merge into traffic in the space of ten feet. It was brown with a Lando top. Tan interior. Once, I fell asleep in the back of it on my coffee break, woke up disoriented, and snuck back into work at Sears. No one seemed to notice I'd been gone for an hour or so. It was the kind of car you could stretch out in the back of and take a nap. It had some after-factory upgrades. It was, you know, my ride.
I always drove it with the windows open. I can almost still feel the wind.
The Rules for a Good Star Trek Movie, Old Style
As I continue watching the Star Trek movies, in order, one per weekend, I've started to notice a pattern.
First of all, let me mention that I have now completed movies one through six, which all feature the original cast, and only the original cast from the original TV series. I notice the next one will have some Next Generation characters, so this is probably a turning point in the movies. The best of the first six movies is Star Trek IV, the Voyage Home. The worst is the one right after that, Star Trek V, the Final Frontier, which was directed by William Shatner. So, the elements of a good Star Trek movie, thus far, are these:
1. Enterprise Worship: It must contain a long, drawn out shot of the Enterprise.
2. Mild mannered conflict between Spock and McCoy
3. A disobeying of orders from Star Fleet
4. Mechanical Failures
5. A triumph, against all odds, of emotion over logic
6. The friendship between Spock and Jim plays a central role
7. Either Jim or Spock makes a huge sacrifice and expects to die
8. Humor in the direst circumstances
I've noticed the more recent movies have left some old time fans disappointed, who say the new movies don't have the same spirit as the old ones. Maybe the new movies were missing a few of these elements? Hard core Trekkies, be sure and argue with me! I love arguing about Sci Fi. It's so much more fun than real life.
Spock, "did too much LDS in the sixties," says Captain Kirk.
First of all, let me mention that I have now completed movies one through six, which all feature the original cast, and only the original cast from the original TV series. I notice the next one will have some Next Generation characters, so this is probably a turning point in the movies. The best of the first six movies is Star Trek IV, the Voyage Home. The worst is the one right after that, Star Trek V, the Final Frontier, which was directed by William Shatner. So, the elements of a good Star Trek movie, thus far, are these:
1. Enterprise Worship: It must contain a long, drawn out shot of the Enterprise.
2. Mild mannered conflict between Spock and McCoy
3. A disobeying of orders from Star Fleet
4. Mechanical Failures
5. A triumph, against all odds, of emotion over logic
6. The friendship between Spock and Jim plays a central role
7. Either Jim or Spock makes a huge sacrifice and expects to die
8. Humor in the direst circumstances
I've noticed the more recent movies have left some old time fans disappointed, who say the new movies don't have the same spirit as the old ones. Maybe the new movies were missing a few of these elements? Hard core Trekkies, be sure and argue with me! I love arguing about Sci Fi. It's so much more fun than real life.
Spock, "did too much LDS in the sixties," says Captain Kirk.
"Wait! I HAVE CANDY!"
I took Little Z trick or treating last night. We have no neighborhood, so I drove her to the nearest town. In a certain neighborhood there, people go to great lengths to celebrate Halloween. I was the Orange Guy (I put on an orange rain coat after the picture) and Little Z was a vampire. That's her hand there, holding up the red cape over her face. I parked in front of a house decorated with gigantic, inflated white ghosts and playing spooky music. My little vampire marched right by the house, not stopping, even though goblins on the front porch clearly had a pot of candy waiting for us.
"Shouldn't we stop there? They have candy."
"NO!" she said, marching forward down the road.
I, the bearded orange guy, ran after her. Little V was running down the street, full steam.
"How about this one?" I yelled after her.
"No."
"This one?" I panted.
"Um... That one!"
Finally, she stopped in front of a little house, with one pumpkin, and the porch light on. But she didn't move.
"Go ahead," I encouraged. "Walk up and ring the doorbell."
She stood still.
"Go ahead. It's all right. I'll go with you."
Finally, she approached the first door. Trick or treat stated. Candy acquired. At the fifth house we had passed.
The house after that looked pleasant enough. She rang the door bell, said the required words, and the guy said,
"Oh, hey, we don't have any candy. But have a nice Halloween!"
Note to that guy: If everyone in your neighborhood is Halloween crazy, and you have no candy, maybe you should turn your porch light off. Just for one night.
And, on to the next house. But, no. It was too highly decorated. Music blaring. Orange lights blinking.
"Go ahead," I said. "They want to give you candy. Just go to the front door."
"No."
"Don't be afraid."
"I'm not afraid. It just doesn't... feel right."
A witch on the front porch came out,
"It's okay! Don't be afraid! It's all fake! We have candy!"
But she wouldn't go. Tomb stones lined the yard.
And so it went. The houses that were most decked out for Halloween, we passed, and the modest, one pumpkin homes were visited and candy was generally acquired. Also, we got notes about how much God loves us, and even a business card for a dog walking service!
And we walked on. The longer we walked, the more her resolve weakened, and the more highly decorated houses we visited. Also, I think all of the witches chasing us saying, "I have candy! Come back!" softened her feelings towards the Halloween extremists.
One house had a quiet young man with a candy dish that had a bony hand attached to it. When Little Vampire tried to grab the candy, the hand grabbed her! It grabbed her three times, until she figured out how to foil it. She was delighted and let out a happy giggle.
In the end, we visited many of the houses we had skipped the first time, on the way back to the car. And to all of the witches who yelled, "Wait! We have candy!" I say,
I'm sorry. I don't know what was going through her head. I wasn't about to force her to go to your house. But, I appreciate your effort. Maybe next year, we'll take your candy.
Countyside in Authentica
Looking for old tax documents today, I naturally found a bunch of things completely unrelated to taxes. I found a folder full of drawings I did when I was fourteen. All of them are signed, dated and titled. (I felt at the time that it was necessary to document the development of my genius and creativity.) This one I titled, "Countyside in Authentica":
I'm pretty sure I meant "Countryside," but my genius had not yet developed spelling skills. "Authentica," however, was intentional. I remember making this drawing. I remember the day clearly. I ran out of green marker, and to make it match, drew the person (alien?) repainting it. I remember drawing something earlier in the day that my dad said was bad because the perspective was too unlikely and unrealistic, so I threw it away and drew this. This is much more likely!
I'm pretty sure I meant "Countryside," but my genius had not yet developed spelling skills. "Authentica," however, was intentional. I remember making this drawing. I remember the day clearly. I ran out of green marker, and to make it match, drew the person (alien?) repainting it. I remember drawing something earlier in the day that my dad said was bad because the perspective was too unlikely and unrealistic, so I threw it away and drew this. This is much more likely!
Vampires and Robots
Christina has a great blog over at Vampires and Robots, where she recently told a hilarious and entertaining zombie story. (My favorite chapter was the one about the Craigslist ads during the zombie apocalypse.) I have been fiddling around with graphic design and asked her if I could redo her title for her. This is what I came up with:
Then I noticed that she has a subtitle, too, so I added that here:
Feedback? Christina? I can change the size to fit your blog. Maybe.
Then I noticed that she has a subtitle, too, so I added that here:
Feedback? Christina? I can change the size to fit your blog. Maybe.
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