Category Archives: art and commentary

Evil me

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Are you ever inclined to do something you know you shouldn’t?  It’s not like you’re afraid of reprisal or that you desire retribution but something else; some sort of primal impulse, as if you had an evil you within demanding to be released.

Well, the other day I met these Lego people; they were so docile and friendly.  They always had smiles on their faces.  I spent some time with them and I don’t know what it was, maybe it didn’t seem reasonable to me that they should be so worry free all the time, but my dark side emerged.  Once I realized how flexible these folks were I started removing parts.  I pulled the arms off of Fred and attached them to his feet; I put Veronica’s head under John’s left leg.  I found myself engaged in frenzied activity; body parts were everywhere.  Gradually I regained partial control and stopped, but evil me couldn’t resist hiding a ways away to watch them.

I know it was a horrible thing to do but it really didn’t turn out so bad in the end.  They all were able to obtain fairly well paying jobs with a traveling circus.

evil me

walking on water

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While checking out at the super market the other day I happened to glance over at the tabloids. On one, the cover story was, ‘Jesus doll walks on water.’  Usually I don’t pay much attention to these journals, the sensationalistic stories usually being so incredibly ridiculous, but this one caught my attention being about a doll and all.  So, I bought a copy and later when I had time, read that a young boy in Florida was playing with his Jesus doll beside a pond one day when the doll suddenly proceeded on its own impetus across the pond toward an old lady on the other side.  The doll, so the story related, moved up to and touched the old woman who was immediately relieved of the arthritic pain she had been suffering.  The doll then turned around and moved back across the pond to the little boy.

Wow!  There were pictures and everything.

As much as I enjoy a doll getting positive attention my skeptical nature questioned the accuracy of the account.  While dolls may certainly have independent natures, performing miracles, even for a Jesus doll, seems pretty incredible.  But, maybe where there’s a will there’s a way.

I think I’ll take a bath.

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Remembering Christmas’ past

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I used to love the holidays.  The Christmas tree smelled so good and decorating was such a great family production; we spent hours placing tinsel strand by strand. There were gifts for everyone from everyone; tangible indicators of our mutual love.

I wonder what happened.  As everyone grew older we still all looked forward to getting together but the focus on material got a bit overwhelming.  There was just too much stuff.  I guess we became victims of the not so subtle marketing campaigns that seemed to take over Christmas.

If you’re wondering about a gift, I could really use……….actually I don’t need anything.santa shrine 3

Playing the Game

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I feel myself falling into a rut lately.  The routine has become insufferable.  The days are passing painfully predictably: out of the box at 10, stand by the window, pose for a while, get leered at by that awful monkey and the other boring inanimates I am loathe to inhabit the studio with and, then, back in the box until morning when it starts all over again.  I won’t even go into the days I don’t get taken out of the box at all.  I’m feeling my life isn’t my own, that I’m simply a small cog in a big impersonal mechanism.

I guess Woody Allen’s right: all you need to do to succeed in life is show up….and play the game.  If only the bills needn’t be paid I would fly (figuratively speaking that is).

But certainly there’s relief to be had.  The Stoics recommend, when meaning in life is elusive, contemplating what it would be like if one lost what one had.  How much worse would it be without those small things we take for granted, like a nice cozy box……………..well, a cozy box is better than nothing.  I will try to be happy with what I have, the way things are…………….and I’ll sign up for flying lessons. discovering the mysteries 3

Thoughts of Death

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Sometimes, in the cold darkness of winter particularly, I can’t help but think about how it’s all going to end.  It’s incredibly depressing to contemplate one’s own mortality; Even plastic breaks down over time.  I guess the fear of irrefutable extinction is what drives people to religion.  The hope for a beautiful afterlife must be a wonderful pacifier.  But what if the after-life isn’t so beautiful, what if it’s terrible, tortuous.  If I were to accept the premise that there truly is an afterlife how could I be certain I was headed in the preferred direction?  When I think about it, throughout history there are more depictions of Hell than of Paradise.

I read somewhere that one is born of nature and to nature one returns after death; seems sufficient to me. gatesofdis3

I guess I’ve always been a bridge burner………….

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I remember, years ago, talking to my aunt (one of the Barbies, I can’t remember which one) about my ambitions to join the Navy Seals.  She dismissed the notion almost immediately, telling me that I was not cut out for such an activity; that I should remember myself, who I am, and not fantasize about becoming something beyond my capabilities.

It became apparent to me nearly everyone you grow up knowing has expectations of who you are and what you are capable of and even find it disturbing if they suspect you might be stepping outside the box they’ve put you in.

So, I decided to cut my ties.  I burned the bridges to nearly everyone I knew with the exception of my generally tolerant immediate family.

I’m still thinking of the Navy Seals; if Mr. Rogers could make it why not me.ship of fools 3

some people even think I lack personality……….

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I know I’m plain.  I’m very aware I have no outstanding visual attributes. I stand out only in my ordinariness.  Sometimes even my friends will pass me without noticing me.  I suppose I could try harder to enhance my appearance; maybe a little eye shadow, although it doesn’t seem to adhere well to plastic.

I just don’t think it’s honest to pretend to be something I’m not.  Still, we are social animals.  Everyone needs friends.  Maybe if I worked out people would like me more.  A svelte body is everyone’s dream.  Beauty is symmetry, slimness, fitness, healthy skin, good muscle tone.  But, is this really me.  Better to just try and fit in as who I am.  I will seek out friends who feel good about themselves; who aren’t afraid of being who they are.

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