chris' lunchtime chronicles

2006-05-09T10:36:00.000-07:00

Chris Wrote:

I'm going to a coffee shop.

I told Grandma I was a goat farmer now, and that I had a small herd (30 head) of goats. I said they are pains in the ass, but I do enjoy working outside. Today a couple of the little bastards got out of the pasture because of a broken part of the fence, which I have to repair, and they wandered into the neighbors property. The woman who lives there gets really pissed because the goats eat her flowers.

She asked, "do you have to look for them on horseback?"
I said, "no, I can just walk or ride the four-wheeler."
"what's a four wheeler?"
"it's like a four-wheeled motorcycle, or kind of like an all terrain golf cart. It has big round tires with knobbies all over them so they can drive over mud and rocks and cactus and rattlesnakes and anything else. I have one on the farm instead of a horse."
She said, " I love horseback riding."
I said, "I do have a donkey. Would you like to come ride that and see the goats?"
She laughed and said she can't ride a donkey, but she would love to come see the goats.

Dani Wrote:

if you want me to join you at a coffee shop you need to say so now & give me a coupla' hours to get there.

Chris Wrote:

We lost one goat, but two sheep got born. The lost goat wandered off and got eaten by a cougar or a mountain lion or a bobcat or swooped up by a bird of prey. The babies are all wet and wobbly though, and doing well. They have a shed now to get in out of the rain.

I should have my new cell in a day or two. You can't reach me right now so you have to wait until a day or two from now. So don't bother right now.

Dani Wrote:

perhaps a suggetion - you could actually set a time for us to get together to have coffee. if you offend me, i'll be sure to realize that it's my cue to leave.
no problem. i will be on the lookout for it, i might even ask you once you offend me if that's what you intended just to be sure.

Chris Wrote:

From the personal goat farming journal:

Since I have lost 2 sheep already, maybe cows are the better way to go. With the two new lambs, I'm still sitting on the status quo, and with another about ready to lamb, I'll be 2 ahead of the starting point. So what to do. I will have a field full of hay, but will probably have to fertilize again to get a good cutting since the wire grass is so plentiful and will be so in the first cutting.

Chris Wrote:
From the personal goat farming journal:

I have another dastardly fence line to clear after all the hard work that I just finished putting in. It seems that the diesel didn't do as I suspected it to do and the fence line down at the creek is being inundated again with lush growth. I will try the weed eater first, but if some of the growth is hiding briars, they will cut the string to pieces in a short short, so if that happens, I'll have to get the All-Terrain and go down there and get to work. One talks about woman's work is never done....whoopee. Well it will keep me off the couch.

Chris Wrote:

From the personal goat farming journal:

The sheep are back in the meadow and are spending the nights in the pen where they have the benefit of the shed in case of rain, which we have had for the 2 nights they have been in there. I don't know about the grown ones, but the 2 wee ones are frisky in the mornings when I let them out, so I'm saying that they enjoy the warmth and the dryness of the shed. It looks as if they may have company in the near future cause one of the other ewe is mighty big and unless I miss my guess, she will be a mother of twins also.

Skeeter ran into Schmardin and another neighbor up in the back yesterday, and he already knew about the cows and I guess the sheep also. He told tales of coyote and mountain lion's in the near vicinity and also the presence of wild hogs. Skeeter saw some of the ground that was churned up by their rooting. Hope they stay yonder.

Dani Wrote:

if you want me to join you at a coffee shop you need to say so now & give me a coupla' hours to get there.

Dani Wrote:

uh oh, this may be becoming a full blow "episode".

2006-04-12T08:40:00.000-07:00

I found an old journal entry from about five years ago that relates to the Schliefke interview I just did:

To cure it I began a project of 15-day paintings and decided to include writing as part of it. The idea is to paint for a short amount of time each day, at the same time, for approximately the same amount of time each day and then write about it. And photograph the work as it progresses. Each painting session should be completely stream of conscienceness off the top of my head, freeform, with little or no regard for the painting of the previous days, just covering right over them. Then at the end of the 15 days look back over the photos and read through the daily logs to see if there is any conection. Try to discover if there is any consistency, any meaning, any method, …etc.

It only worked slightly. It became almost impossible to ignore and cover up the work I had done before. Images or shapes would start to appear that I would find aestetically pleasing, and I would be unable to resist painting around them or incorporating them int o the work and preserving them.

The photos turned out poorly and would get out of order, or would end up on different rolls of film and I would only have half of them or whatever.

But the writing worked. It turned out that the project worked worked so well in the writing that I didn’t even need the painting really. The ‘rules’ I set up for myself kept getting broken anyway, so I would write about that and then it became clear that they must be bad rules. So they would change.

2006-04-04T19:57:00.000-07:00

Chris Wrote: That is the scarriest picture I have ever seen.

Why do you not have even the slightest shame of nudity like everyone else? Children walk around naked proudly, but good parents explain to them that that is unnatural and they should hide their bodies, just like they should hide thier feelings. Somehow you missed that part of growing up. It probably isn't your fault, your mother should have taught you.

Pregnant people often get caught up in the feeling that child birth and pregnancy and nursing are all beautiful miracles and that everyone wants to hear about it, but that's not true. Others are uneasy if not outright grossed out by it.

I think I will send a copy of that to Kelly. Remember, I am the NICE cousin. Just imagine what he would say.

Erica Wrote: i love to be naked.
my children will love to be naked.
you have been naked before. you have 2 kids.
what did you tell honey?
do you want to come to the birth?
much love
e

Chris Wrote: The child, the ten year old child, asked her mom yesturday, while we were eating, "Mom, when did you first get your period?"

I gasped, spit coffee all over the table, and jumped up knocking over my chair. I yelled, " HOLY SHIT!!!! That is not something we talk about ever! Things like that will happen to you soon enough because you had the misfortune of being born a girl and God hates girls, but it is something to be ashamed of and keep secret inside yourself. Like feelings. We never never never talk about our bodies"

I told her if she wanted to get all touchy feely and talk about her body, she should just call Erica.

Liz told me that it was probably on account of my having been raised by semi-rednecks that I was the way I am today.

Chris Wrote: Do I want to come to the birth? Well let me see.... will there be snacks?

2006-03-28T15:20:00.000-08:00

Ran into Darren M.

Darren M. has a kid my kids age and he goes to coffee every Sat. morning with said kid, as do I.
I learned he also lives on my same street, just down a block or two so I never noticed him.

So we were talking and he complained about how they re-paved our street. He said he likes to walk around bare foot and the new gravel on the street is too sharp. I just said, "well... uh.. you know... okay.... right... I guess so... you're right..." I didn't really have an opinion on it.

A few days later I forgot something in my truck late at night and I had to go get it. It was probably a book. Or maybe a cd, I don't know, but something. So I just ran out there with no shoes, and sure enough, that gravel was -no shit- sharp as razors. It was like walking on broken glass.

2006-03-24T07:29:00.000-08:00

I had no idea my phone could recieve color photos and I learned in the harshest way possible.

My dumbass cousin (who is actually getting dumber I fear, not smarter as I had hoped) posted a picture of herself on myspace.com basically naked, posing with her ridiculous oversized pregnant belly sticking out for all to see.... Later when asked why she did this she answered, " because I look good, dammit."

So I gave her shit about it. She threatened to send more graphic pictures, claiming that I was just stuffy and needed to learn that nudity is beautiful and not to be ashamed of. I told her my antique phone could never deal with it and then I thought nothing more of it.

Later however, I heard the beeping that indicates that my phone is recieving messages and when I looked it said incoming multi-media messages. So I looked, and almost fainted at the horror show. There in vivid color was the most horrific picture I have ever seen, and of a family member no less.... I beg you not to click below, I'm warning you it is horrific.... but here it is:

Horror show.html

Now, I'm accused of crossing the line because not only did I post it here online, I also sent it to everyone else in the family. My mom. My sister. Grandpa Joe. And worst of all- Uncle Kelly.

2006-01-21T15:35:00.000-08:00

I just noticed some crap on Michael's Myspace thing that says something about people drinking large quantities of Robitussin and I thought about how one winter when I was living with Laura I got hooked on Robitussin myself. I carried it around with me at all times, tucked in that big inside flap pocket thing inside my bluejean jacket(1). I drank bottle after bottle of the stuff, because I had a nagging cough(2) but I did it for months and months(3). I would put the empties on the window sill next to my bed and one day Laura came in(4) and there was like 20 empty bottles and she said, WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THE ROBITUSSIN???? YOU'RE A FUCKING JUNKIE!

And she made me quit.
This is an absolute true story. This is going in my memoir and this is not an embellishment. In fact it may go in my blog now.
The rest of my memoir(and blog) will be complete bullshit, starting with how I was born of average height but both my parents were dwarves and I was raised in a "scaled down" house, so I always bumped my shins on the counter.

1. I wore blue jean jackets then like Ian does now.
2. I smoked at least a pack a day. And pot too.
3. I never dreamed it was a problem because I drank alcohol until unconsciousness daily so why would I need it for that.
4. Uhh.....yeah. We had seperate bedrooms.

2006-01-20T08:19:00.000-08:00

The job I'm doing is monotonous which I already can't deal with very well, and then there is working with a boss. I'm starting to suspect that I can't work well with anyone at all. I hate being told how to do something I already know how to do. In this case it's just a matter of what order to go in; I like to work through the whole thing and do all the big pieces then go back through and do all the small pieces. But no, according to my boss that's just not how. He wants me to do the entire top and then turn the whole thing, do all the pieces then turn... See? It's just a matter of how you organize it and has no effect on the job. I suspect also that he wants to be in charge and not be questioned on every insignificant detail. "Just humor me and do it my way" he says.

This happens every time I work with anyone on anything at all.

I think it has to do with wanting equal respect from whomever I'm doing a job with. I'm just a lowly employee now, and will just have to do it his way, because he is the boss and I should respect that. But what really gets me is when it happens with someone I am just working with or when I should be the boss and I get questioned on every single little decision. Why not do it like this, and why this and why this why this..... I spend more time defending my every decision than if I just did it by myself. I like working alone on anything that has to do with power tools or wood or painting or building or framing or decks or playhouses or sheds or other people.

I'm well on my way to the life of a spoiled curmudgeon like them all. All three of my 60 something year old artist freinds are spoiled self absorbed babies that have to work alone because they can't be around others.

The one who I believed to be the most stable suprised me with a slight tantrum last time we went out. And I've notice that the last few times we've gone out in public he has loudly complained about little things in a voice loud enough for everyone around us to hear. Like, "We should go to the coffee shop across the street so maybe we can get service...." When the coffee shop girl was busy helping the person in line in front of us. Nice, I thought to myself, and we left. As if she cared. Secretly though, I know I'm like that. My wifey always says things to me like, "This isn't television..." Because I say things out loud that should be quiet. I loudly point out all the junk food the fat lady in line in front of us is buying at the grocery store. "Look, she's actually buying a whole box of Twinkies!" My wife shrinks in shame. Or when a drunken homeless looking guy is buying beer. Funny! At least for me.

2006-01-15T07:31:00.000-08:00

So Friday we have a T over for dinner. I ran into him at an artshow and haven't seen him for years and years. Seven years ago I saw him and it's just a drunken blur to me, I sort of remember it and have the slightest uncomfortable feeling, like you get when you know you did something drunk stupid, but have no idea what. He described the event and it didn't sound too bad, but he is probably leaving out key bits of evidence to preserve my feelings. Especially since he was in the presence of this new big family. New to him at least. Last time he saw me I was just a hopelessly drunk kind-of single guy on "a bad path..." with no apparent aspirations of settling down with kids. He's so dramatic. I drank a little is all.

Now he reconnects to find me that family man. In a house with a barbeque grill and dog and a kitty, and a ninetindo, and familiar with the Teletubbies, Barney, and Mr. Rogers. I even have a wife who doesn't appear to have been in any porno movies and cares about people's tender little feelings. She was skeptical about me having someone over 'from my old days' because she says, "well...., mostly they all seem to be dumb."

Hmm. "Retarded" was the word I had used.

2006-01-12T06:22:00.000-08:00

I dreamed of poor dead Rob last night.

I haven't thought of him in years, that I remember, and suddenly he appears in a dream. In the dream I am starting my first day of a new job at Pier 1, but it's some crazy Pier 1... the first half of the dream is me trying to find the place. It's address is listed as 0001 Mopac.... but that doesn't seem to exist. (Also I notice on the news that 12 Americans have narowly escaped some city in which a war is raging, but one American is left, and that one is Chase. So there he is wandering around on the news- bomb blasts all around him and he has a coffee in his hands...)

I finally find the place in the dream and it's a bizaar mix of Pier 1 and Home Depot and it's huge. On this day Colby will be my boss, but he's late so I'm alone at the cash register and I don't know what to do. Rob appears and I'm relieved. But instead of working we start shopping. I find a jacket that looks like a vintage letter jacket with red leather sleaves and no actual letter. It's only $8.95 and I think I have found a really good deal. I ask Rob, "is this too gay for me?" He says, "No.... I got one myself just the other day."
"But you're a flaming homosexual" I argue. He is just walking away not answering and I feel sure I'm being set up but I don't let go of the jacket.

My friend thinks that when people die they live on in the memories of others, but that is the afterlife. And I get the impression that she doesn't just mean as a memory. They still have some sort of conscience themselves. She is only one small step away from believing in ghosts, I swear. Is that like everytime someone says that fairies aren't real, one dies somewhere? Or when people stop believing in Pan, he slowly starts to disapear?

In other news, the people of this world are getting stupider and stupider every day and I hate everyone.
There is controversy over a book some kid wrote and was published as a memoir. But now a "smoking gun" website claims the book is exagerated or just not true. That can only mean that the people who wrote that and the people who read that and didn't get outraged don't know what the definition of a memoir is.

That would be like me painting a picture of my backyard and then some dumbass claiming I put an extra tree in there or edited out some leaves. When you create something, a memoir or a painting or a peice of art of any kind, you have all creative licence. The other 99% of the world who lacks the creativity to make anything at all doesn't understand what creating something involves. They only know how to consume or tear down. I hate you all.

2006-01-10T15:26:00.000-08:00

So I make Dani take me to lunch.

We go to Trudy's downtown. I order a burrito and she gets some gross Tex-Mex thing, probably with fish in it. Whatever it is, it is all covered in cheese. I start feeling annoyed. Our conversation is already annoying me a little, it's so fake and uninteresting. So I begin to push her buttons, saying things I know will soon really bother her. But I tread lightly, because she has been known to walk out of a restaurant (secretly my favorite trait, maybe her only saving grace). I have to wait and piss her off later, timing it so that she storms off when I actually do want her to go. However, the the more she talks the more I think I would rather her storm off and have me pick up this check than deal with her another moment.

Then the food comes. We eat and at some point she is done. I look over at her plate and notice that she has eaten every bite of the enchiladas thing out of the middle but left untouched the rice on one side and beans on the other. The plate is still perfect- completely perfect untouched rice on one side, completely perfect untouched beans on the other, and stark white pefectly clean missing spot in the middle. I even ask, "aren't you going to eat the beans or rice?". She says she doesn't like those.

I realize right then that I hate her. There is nothing. I absolutely hate her.

2005-12-16T06:19:00.000-08:00

Well this time I've really done it. I've pissed off Dani by calling her "retarded" in a sort-of public way. And at a time when she is so stressed out.

This is bad news for me though. Her expertise on 12 step recovery and self help in general would really be useful for me right now. I should never have chosen this moment to reveal to her that I thought she was retarded, even if I really really really seriously not-at-all-kidding-around believe it to be true. Seriously.

Why now though?
The problem I have that I needed her to help me work through is this: About 15 years ago I found this poor retarded person with a car and made freinds with them. Then I made them buy me beer and burritos for 15 years, while constantly making fun of them- both openly and behind thier back. Really behind thier back. My friends and I would laugh and laugh at how mean I could be and still have this poor little person buy me beer and burritos.

Now after all these years I was watching Sesame Street and saw a skit they often have. It's where Oskar the Grouch teases the big dumb purple monster Telly. Oskar gives Telly a little tin can suprise thing and Telly always ends up opening it and a snake jumps out. But Telly never learns. He always reluctantly opens it. Each time Oskar tricks him by saying, "this time Telly, it could be different. You don't know for sure it's a snake... " and poor dumb Telly opens it. And crys out in terror and shock, while Oskar laughs and laughs. Telly goes home in shame. "Curse that goddamn Oskar the Grouch. I'll kill that bastard", he thinks to himself.

The guilt sets in. How would Dani handle this? Isn't there a step or something devoted to this kind of thing???

2005-10-11T20:42:00.000-07:00

So went to the store with the children. We bought a pound of ground turkey from the deli counter. The guy had a mustache and didn't laugh at any of my funny little comments while I ordered. I decided he was probably a serial killer on his days off and his experience as a butcher helped him dispose of bodies. I always admire people who work jobs on this earth but somehow use what seem like useless skills to do something on thier days off. Like people who work at copy shops but make copy machine collage art or poster art on the side.

I told him to make it a pound and "a little over, maybe a pound and a quarter." He got it to 1.26 pounds on the first try. So I commented, "wow, that's close for the first try. I guess practice makes perfect."

He just looked at me all intense, serial killer style with his bloody apron, and said, "I've been doing this a long time. Anything else today?"

We went on. We got a bag of organic potatoes, an organic onion, a bag of organic little carrots, a box of beef broth, and some cheddar cheese.

So we went home and I pre-heated the oven to 350 and put a large pot of water on to boil. Then I peeled the potatoes a little leaving most of the skin but trying to get off all the black spots and anything suspicious looking. Then I went ahead and chopped them into peices and threw them in the not-yet boiling water.

Then I diced up the onion, cryed a from it a little, and put that in a skillet on a medium flame. I kept trying to stir that around so they wouldn't burn while I frantically tryed to break individual cloves off a piece of garlic, and cut them and peel them. Then I found the garlic press and squeezed them into the cooking onion. Then I put the ground 1.26 pounds of turkey in and added a bunch of salt and pepper. I put a lot of salt, but it is never enough. Not unless you really let it cook and bake so the spices work in. Otherwise this will always be bland. So I add a little more salt still.

Next I add two cups of broth, and two tablespoons of corn meal(for thickening). I look over and the potatoes are definitely boiling. But are they soft? I poke them with a fork and they are. They cook really fast when they are all cut up. I poor them in a drainer careful not to singe my eyebrows off. I move them to a pot. I add a shitload of butter. Milk. Then I mash and mash them. I do it by hand because I decide at the last minute that there is no need to mess up the mixer.

So I pour the meat mixture into a baking dish and carefully spoon the mashed potatoes on it. Then I grate a bunch of cheese on top and stick it in the oven. I bake it for as long as I can, but the children and evil wife are all clamouring for food and bitching about how it's almost seven thirty.

It turns out a little soupy, but only because it could have baked a little longer and sat a bit more after it was out of the oven. Delicious. And more delicious the next day.

2005-10-06T19:51:00.000-07:00

I'm afraid to take any of the many available illegal or prescription drugs. I'm a little ashamed of that too, and I'm always sober. Yesterday I daydreamed about not getting stoned or taking a harmless little Xanex, but instead just going for broke and buying a bunch of crack. I pictured what it would really entail. I would need a glass pipe, some Chore Boy, and I guess some sort of butane lighter or else I would end up burning my lips or fingers and developing one of those crack whore sores. Speaking of crack whores, I saw one wandering around behind Home Depot, and I guess I would need her to actually score the crack.

Then I considered acid instead. Right there in the middle of the day after all these years clean just taking a full on hallucinogen then trying to cope with the family for the rest of the day.

But I don't. I went to the grocery store and got some of that vegetarian chicken, the Quorn brand, which is the best I've had. I got the kind that is actually shaped like bone-less chicken breasts, and each one in the box is a little different. I bet they have to go to extra trouble to make them all a little different. Only 2 come to a box (they are pretty much actual size) so maybe every third one or so is the same. Who the hell knows? Do they have three or more molds?

I was torn between vegetarian chicken-like chicken, and actual chicken from the meat counter, because real chicken was actually quite a bit cheaper.

I had a plan though. I needed the Quorn chicken. So I went with it. What the hell. It was still less than taking them all to a restaurant.

I also got mozzarella cheese and some pasta and a jar of sauce- the kind I like. I went home and pre-heated the oven to 425.
I fryed the fake chicken in olive oil until it was a little crispy, put it on paper towels for a minute, then moved them to a baking dish. I put on slices of cheese and covered them all in sauce and baked them. I cooked, drained, and tossed the pasta. Then I put it all together and fed it to the children and everybody. I made the fighting children sit next to each other and threatened to make them kiss and hold hands if they didn't cut it out.

Afterwards I took all the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. The glass baking dish had sauce and cheese all cooked on so I soaked it in hot water with dishsoap, and I washed the black iron skillets (I had used them both) and then put them on the stove and turned the heat on High to dry them....

See? My new adventures.

2005-08-27T06:42:00.000-07:00

My child is four and a half. Excuse me- four and three quarters. If you say four and a half she will angrily correct you.

She has seen Star Wars and has opinions on the movies.

She will only wear certain clothes and will argue about it if you try and persuade her of something.

She goes to pre-K, which is basically kindergarten for four and three quarter year olds.

She can write her name, everyone in her families name (including Hudi), and the word, "POOP".

She cusses when no adults are around.

She kills bugs, especially pill bugs. Also flys (I bought her a fly swatter), roaches, lightening bugs, worms, ladybugs, and anything else she can catch. We once went bicycle riding on a basketball court in the park. We soon noticed the entire court was crawling with these cute little grasshoppers. There were hundreds of them- they were just everywhere.
I'm sorry to report that it was a massacre. I can't help feeling a little responcible standing by without intervention like the US military, but I was just so enthralled.

So all this she can do and according to our midwife we should still be nursing.

2005-08-27T06:24:00.000-07:00

I got the job!

So last Thursday I went in for an interview and bombed. I knew while it was happening that it was going bad. I lost control sometime in the second hour. And knowing I only had two more hours to pull it out the panic set in. I got all sweaty and nervous and started deleting and re-drawing things randomly. Layers started piling up covering up old work, then I would notice something covered up and just re-draw it. My hands started shaking and the guy kept calling out how much time was left, counting down until he finally said, "okay that's it guys." So I saved and left. I was sure I would never hear about it again.

Somehow, on Friday, they called me for a second interveiw. So that weekend I practiced. On the second interveiw I set up the layers in advance and kept everything organized. It went well and I felt good about it when I left. He kept calling time again and the guy next to me was bombing. I could tell he was as misearble as I had been the first time.

Out of the frying pan into the fire.

It' s long work that involves staring into a computer all day. My neck hurts, my eyes are burned out. Sometimes after my shift when I'm driving home my poor eyeballs digitize the cars and highway as if I'm seeing it on a monitor and I picture how I would lay it out in layers with inking and colors. Sometime other types of halucinations happen. My vision will distort as if someone put a big magnet next to the monitor and even after I realize it is not real I can make it do it again.

The worse thing is that I had a job, and now it hangs over me. I was scheduled to paint two murals for a nice lady. She used to love me. But then I started working on this and quit calling her. Now she is probably furious with me. I can't seem to bring myself to call her. I know I should just come clean. Tell her that her litttle child can wait a few more weeks for his mural and her boutique will be okay. So far I haven't and each day it gets a little longer that I have blown her off.

2005-08-06T18:04:00.000-07:00

Today all the children and I went to a coffee shop and a lady helped insure that I will have to get my children into therapy. Earlier maybe.

So she walks up and says, "Wow, it's too bad you have such an ugly family..."

So now I know she was trying to be funny but it was an unfortunate and terrible delivery. The fact that she was old and a complete stranger definitely worked against her, but then on top of that a bad delivery. Even I who am very skilled in sarcasm could barely tell she was making a joke.

So as if she knew, she quickly came out with, "They are all just gorgeous!"

She was trying to recover what was clearly a social accident but not before the four-year-old looked up at me and as if the lady wasn't even still there, said, "Did she say we were ugly Daddy?"

2005-08-04T15:09:00.000-07:00

On the beach Liz and I are talking. A girl comes up and invites us to a party.

We flashback to this same beach in 1989. A young Liz is sitting there on a towel sunbathing and wearing sunglasses.
A girl walks by and quietly, sort of rolling her eyes and very bitchy says, "Cow."
Liz looks up, "Bitch."
Later that night while other people are all around them they are friends.

Now back in 2005, we know that bitch girl will be at the party.
Later, we walk up to the house and it seems to be an outdoor cookout style beach house party but we aren't in Texas so the food is healthy and almost vegetarian- humus, couscous, vegetables, etc. Liz and the bitch girl hug and seem to be the best of old friends. They catch up. It seems that bitch went off and became a doctor.

Later as we walk home I roll my eyes all bitchy like and say out the side my mouth, "Cow."
"Whore", says Liz.

trees

2005-05-27T09:41:00.000-07:00

trees
Originally uploaded by Chappell.

A painting of trees from a couple of weeks ago.
I'm doing two more like it now.

2005-05-07T06:44:00.000-07:00

Dani's Blog (Chris posting for Dani who remains silent and refuses contact from the outside world)

So I have decided not to speak to that horrible Chris ever again. He is such a bastard. But he is so SMART and good looking.....and he's always right. I guess I will fix him first then decide whether to speak to him or not.

However he is a very very sick man. I know it will be a long thankless task, but his recovery depends on me. I will have to do much research to figure out what complex mental disorders he is acting under. Only an extremely sick individual would be so evil. He is certainly a sociopath and he obviously suffers delusions of grandeur. I think he has been lying to himself and others so long he has actually split his own personality and has no real identity any longer. Also, when he is better someone needs to get him to a mall quick and do something about that wardrobe.

I will have to purchase and read:

Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway

Staying Sane: How to Make Your Mind Work for You

The Highly Sensitive Person

Asserting Yourself: How to Feel Confident about Getting More from Life

When I Say No, I Feel Guilty

2005-05-07T06:03:00.000-07:00

Dani's Blog (Chris posting for Dani who remains silent and refuses contact from the outside world)

Friday-

I woke up too early this afternoon, so I still feel tired. I can barely make it on only ten hours of sleep. So I stumble to the kitchen and get the Folgers for my morning (afternoon) coffee.

I look over at the sink and there are dirty dishes. Darn, that means I have to work today. I was hoping for an easy day because I have had such a hard week, and tonight there's a new episode of Will and Grace I have been looking forward to.

My week has been hard because of that damn Chris. I'm so mad at him I could spit!
It's just he's so smart and good looking. He's always right. It makes me so mad to know I'm wrong and eventually will have to listen to his words. But it's happened that way for fifteen years now. I remember my 20s.... WHAT A LOSER I WAS!!! Goodness! If it hadn't been for Chris teaching me the practical application of a 24 hour a day drinking binge I would have never made it through. Thank God he taught me how to drink properly. It was well worth the countless thousands of dollars I charged to my mothers credit card for Busch Tall Boy training purposes. He was such an alcoholic genius! He drank with such style and grace. It was a beautiful thing really. He could whip it out and pee on a fireplace in a room full of people with such ease and natural dignity. He was a show stopper.

Oh well, gotta go- Dr. Phil is coming on.

2005-05-06T09:44:00.000-07:00

Chris wrote:
You get over it right now Dani. I'm SERIOUS. You quit your
pouting, pull yourself together, shut-up, grow up, apologize, shut the
fuck up, then stop having tantrums all together.
You may not be like this.
It is inexcusable.
You stop it right now.
I have a very busy day, and I need you to run some errands because I
have a show tomorrow.

Also you can't be like this because it is not helpful to others. Your
only job in this life is to ramble on about self help and other pop
psychology and read books for people about how to manage their personal
issues so you can tell it to them. You are not allowed to get mad at a
person in need. You are required to listen patiently to that person and
sympathize with them while gently guiding them back on track. You can't
get mad and storm off just because they are "difficult". Sick helpless
people can't control what they say. You just have to suck it up. It may
well be a challenge, but everyone has to face challenges in their life.
You didn't choose this job it chose you.

Dani refused to answer, so Chris wrote For Dani (and then emailed it):
I'm not playing. I'm mad and your emails wound me. I have a back injury
so I don't have time fight with you. I only think happy things, and
deserve a life free from all stress.

Chris wrote:
Well you better make time. I am too busy to carry you through this. You
have to learn that we are all the same boat and there can't be one
little whiny person holding up the whole program. Life marches on with
or without you.

Dani still didn’t answer so Chris wrote on her behalf:

Why? Why should I have to try to be better?
If I get mad at you I will just go hang out with my other dumbass
whitetrash ninth-grade drop-out friends who don't challenge me to be
better or do anything. I will only hang out with people who want to eat
on the patio and talk about weather. And I will only help people who are
fake drug addicts and want to hear my Dr. Phil style recovery self help
banter (and if they say anything I don't like I will storm off and be mad).

Chris Wrote(proud of how funny this project was turning out):
But... I don't understand.... I was just trying to have a normal
conversation! What happened?????

Chris Wrote for Dani:
And another thing- I am suffering from a back injury, and my cats woke me up, and I have to do the dishes at some point today (on only nine hours of sleep) and I have to go have lunch, I am too busy for your little drug problem.
When you are ready to say exactly what I want to hear and never say anything real or bigger than my isolated little life, then you can call me. Besides, haven't you ever heard of the Boy Who Cried Wolf??? What if someday you really need Dr. Dani?

Chris Wrote:
But, But, .... I'm worried I might inhale gasoline... or call Greg, or get Bushe Tall Boys....... What should I do??? Isn't there any books on Anger management I could read? Or Adult Children Of Uncaring Mothers????

2005-05-04T11:52:00.000-07:00

Chris Wrote:
You may well be mad, but get over it because I think you would like to know that, she's okay, but Liz sustained a head injury because of something I did.

She was not hospitalized, but she got knocked nearly unconscious and was 'out of it' for the whole day, and I think she is still kind of in shock today.

Dani wrote:
Ok
Not sure what to say
I'm glad she's ok
Do you want to tell me more?

Chris Wrote:
I threw something and caught her right in the head. Actually I'm not sure where she got hit, I was turned the other way. She says she's fine, but with head injuries you never know.

Here's the part I'm hesitant to tell about because it sounds so funny, and someday it surely will be. It was a shoe. I threw a shoe over my shoulder not knowing she was standing there.

Dani wrote:
Good Lord Chris, you had me all freaked out. You send this cryptic message like something just awful had happened.
I’m sure she's fine.
I’m going to go back to being mad at you again now.
You let me know if she starts panting or drooling or anything, otherwise go to a meeting & stop being a pain.

Chris wrote:
I've made this all sound very funny I know, but the woman was nearly unconscious and it's caused terrible bitchyness ever since. She was really hit hard.

Dani wrote:
I understand, & I don't think it's funny. I just think she's probably ok & there's not any reason to worry. I'm glad you're concerned for your spouse, but calm down. She's ok.

Chris wrote:
It's not genuine worry I'm sure. I don't get that way. I had to choke back the laughter when I first saw her swaggering around, and when she fell, I actually did laugh a little. But when she came around and was such a bitch about it, well..... you know.
So don't worry I haven't gone soft.
But you should send her a card.

Dani wrote:
I can't send her a card, I don't have her email-
or you mean a real card?
Sure I can do that
a sympathy card - for having to deal with a crazy husband?
Does Hallmark make one of those?

Ok I don't have time for this
I’m going to my Gran's
go to a meeting.

2005-05-03T15:37:00.000-07:00

Dani wrote:
So?
Are you still carefully plotting a relapse & telling yourself how unavoidable it is?
Or have you gone back to basics & started seriously thinking about whatever step you're on?

Chris wrote:
No. I have no intention of relapse, and no real temptation either. I work on it often, in my own way.

I told you that to illustrate to you that I am right, of course, but you knew I was. I am always right. Especially about stuff I know.

What I told you was that everyone has to do something in thier life, something they try to be good at. Not necessarily a job, but everyone has to take pride in something. Your's might be helping other people, or recovery stuff or whatever. You read all those books, you sponsor, you do whatever you do, but you do something.

So all your whining, Dani doesn't like stress, Dani doesn't work, Dani needs lots of rest, Dani has too much to worry about, Dani doesn't vote, Dani doesn't know how to follow street directions, Dani had a stressful childhood with work-a-holic parents, Dani this and Dani that...... it's all drama crying bullshit.

See?
I told you I want drugs and it just gave you a little something to work on. And when discussing my relapse you suddenly start to speak with such authority! Suddenly you know something, and you have a true opinion, and you want to use it.

That's your thing. There you go. Your welcome.

But if I mention in person, "Hey, you gonna vote on that smoking issue next week???" Suddenly I get, "DANI doesn't Vote!!!!! Why are you trying to change me??? I don't want a job!! I had a bad childhood!!!!! Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah..... I'm storming out of here!!!!!"

Dani wrote:
Well, then you & I have a big problem. Because I take that sort of thing seriously & do not like it when someone messes with me concerning it.

Chris wrote:
So Greg's granny still lives there. In some miraculous bit of genius on my part I was able to remember his phone number- then using an online reverse-lookup phone site I was able to verify. So I called and got the info I needed, and scheduled a meeting with Greg.
So here is my tentative relapse schedule:

1. Establish Dani to be crazy to everyone I know with all sorts of Chris weirdness. This way no one will know whether to believe her or not as she very well may be just a victim of some kind of crazy joke Chris is playing. That way Dani can be my unwilling confidant during the relapse and eventual secret recovery, but will be powerless to tell anyone.

2. Contact Greg and get drugs. Try not to get venereal diseases, arrested, dead, or taken into custody by any hospitals, police, or drug rehabs.

3. Have secret drug binges, using drugs only during the day when wife is away or in other room, but avoid Bushe Tall Boys. Use only marijuana, ecstasy, heroin, oxycontin, vicodin, and coffee. While high try to remember not to drink alcohol or start smoking cigarettes as that might arouse suspicion.

4. After two weeks or so, abruptly quit using all drugs. If rehab is necessary, tell wife that I'm going away on business and will return in thirty days.

5. Forget that it ever happened and when I go to AA and sponsor people tell them not to try it.

Dani wrote:
1) I wouldn't bother trying to tell anyone
Any relapse is completely up to you
2) Do you have any idea what kind of guilt I have for introducing you to Greg?
This is why I do not think you're little "joke" is funny

Chris wrote:
You and your guilt. You couldn't control the things I did. You aren't all that important. Sometimes you think things are completely centered around you, in fact, maybe YOU need a meeting. And this is no joke.

Dani wrote:
Dummy, I know I couldn't control you or Greg. Please.
I just have guilt too, rational or not.

No matter how serious you are or think you are or whatever, this is a sick little game you are playing. I'm not likely to stay involved with it for long.

2005-04-28T19:47:00.000-07:00

Today I went and hung out at a coffee shop all day with Ethan.

He was wearing his signature flip-flops with two different colored socks, the sock pushed in between his big toe and second toe so the strap can go between. It is so ridiculous looking that I admire him for being able to wear it so boldly in such a punk rock place. The patio is crawling with extremely hot young women and he seems to know them all on a first name basis. They come over and talk to us all day and he introduces them to me, one after another, all the while wearing his flip-flops and sock combo. I am also always impressed by his ability to remember so many people by first name, male and female. Someone will walk by and casually throw out, "hey Ethan", and he will always respond to them by name. "Hey Sean", "Hey Emily", "Hey Jesse"....etc. All day. Sometimes I will ask how do you know them, and he will say, "Oh we just met today."

Today he told me his plans to travel in the next weeks to Arizona, New Mexico, Chicago, Minneapolis, and several other places I forget. He said he wants to travel all over the country by Greyhound Bus. I ask wont it be expensive? And he says, " Oh I have friends I can stay with".

"In all those places?" Sure, he says.

Everybody knows Ethan. He really is the king of this town. And he "don't wear no shoes".

2005-04-19T07:11:00.000-07:00

Tom wilson wrote me again. He said:

Come on out. The burrito is on me.

As I look through your site, it's so great. A while ago, I was flying so much that I began photographing every meal served to me on a plane. Very much like your meal photos. It was a good collection, but then I did a painting of a ViewMaster and a yoyo and things changed.

Thanks again for the nice feedback. Of course, like everyone, I'm not selling a ton, but man, has it been great to hear such nice stuff from so many artists. It means a lot to me.

Tom

So I responded again. I told him why I do the lunch page, why repetitious habits like lunch choices (especially unhealthy lunches) and other forgettable little daily things interest me.

Then I told him I would love to have one of his prints and he never wrote me again. Oh well. I had to ask. Schliefke wanted me to try and persuade him to come out here and have an art show with us. Maybe that would have been a better thing to ask. I never did ask if he knew Crispin Clover. I guess that's the problem with being a celebrity artist- everybody wants something. He might be thinking, "that fucker. I wanted to talk about the merit of my work artist to artist, and all he wanted, like everybody, is a freebie. NEVER Take a gift of shoes from a cobbler!!!"

2005-04-11T14:14:00.000-07:00

Today was day one of the biplane mural, I'll post a picture later.

It went fairly well. The wife hired me and is who I deal with, but today I met the husband. He is a professional golfer. He is a preppy rich guy always on a cell phone. I pulled into the circle drive and parked next to a brand new white 4X4 pickup truck that was being washed by a mexican guy. I blocked in a Mercades that had all it's doors open because the interior had just finished being detailed, and I could see that he was waxing it as well- it still had the white wax-0n-wax-off swirls on it. When he was done with the truck he would undoubtedly finish the wax job and move on to the Hummer golf cart I just noticed. It said "Humdinger" on the back where Hummer would be on a real car.

Inside was a team of Mexican girls working on the windows and floors.

There was hardwood floors everywhere except where I am doing the mural, of course. In the kitchen there is what appears to be walnut, very cool.
They have a pool, and a neighbor who the golfer refered to as a "bitch", an eighteen month old boy, and a girl on the way, some sort of GIANT silver golf trophy, a Thomas Kinkaid painting, a flat screen plasma TV in the childs playroom (not his bedroom where I am doing the mural, a different room filled with giant inflatable toys). The tv was on all day although no one was in there, and it was on sports news channel as if to torture me.

poptop

2005-03-31T06:47:00.000-08:00

poptop
Originally uploaded by Chris Chappell.

Tom Wilson, the actor/painter who played Biff in the Back to the Future Trilogy and paints large "pop" art paintings of nostalgic 70's stuff, found an entry of mine on my site that mentions him and this drawing. So he emailed me. He wrote:

This is really great. America. American life. Lunch. A pop top. Beautiful.

I love it.

Thanks for the mention. I've got a backlog of paintings to finish, but you never know when the pop top might show up.

Tom Wilson

So I wrote him back. I wrote:

Hey Tom Wilson,

Glad you like it. Thanks for stopping in, and thanks for the email.
I've been enjoying your paintings online. I'll try to see them in person next time I'm out that way.

I should have asked him if he knows Crispin Glover, but I thought I better keep it brief.

2005-03-28T05:28:00.000-08:00

Last night I dreamed that Joey and Dave convinced me to have a swimming pool built in my backyard because they had bought a whale on ebay and needed a habitat for it. So in the dream we had a contractor over looking at the yard and Dave and Joey kept telling him things we needed in the pool....like how deep, how long, etc.... I just sort of stood there thinking we would never be able to pull it off. The bid was for 39,000. Next we went to some kind of scientist zoo keeper guy to give us pointers on caring for the whale. After that, a bar. I secretly believed none of it would work. As they got drunk on pitchers of beer, they talked about how they could let it swim in Town Lake and that there were very deep spots in the lake in which it could wallow.....

I felt that way before. I have at times believed I was the only one in the room who was seeing the bigger picture. There seems to be some little detail (like the difference between ocean and lake water), that everyone is ignoring and they all talk so loud and confidently that it's hard to interject that little opinion.

Yesturday, Easter, we talked about my cousin who got married and moved to Canada.
She and her husband are very religious and, I guess patriotic. They hung an American flag and a Canadian flag at their house and twice now someone has stolen the American one and they have found it burned. So the family was all talking about it yesturday. Granny threw out, "They're resentful!".
I doubt that. I don't think this part of the family has a clear understanding of how we must appear to other countries.

2005-03-17T08:31:00.000-08:00

So me and Paul E and Michael went out for a day of SXSW fun.
It was Tuesday and the music has not yet officially started, we were all out to cash in on our free passes to the interactive media festival. "to look at computer nerds and check out hot chicks"(oxymoron).
We scored these free passes from a little piece of spam that had appeared in Michael's and my inbox. I carelessly tossed it in the trash, but Michael read it and filled out the online survey, then convinced me and Paul to do the same.

So I got up, picked up Michael and we parked a Joe's then walked to the big Austin Convention Center.
We were nervous, felt out-of-place, and confused about what exactly we were supposed to do. Everyone there seemed perfectly at home and we noticed everyone had MAC Powerbooks. They were everywhere. Everyone seemed busy between panels typing away on their little grey notebooks- busy busy busy. Busy Blogging.

I learned that I don't know a goddamn thing about Blogging. What the hell is it? What is it for?
I thought it was a wierd art project kind of thing, but apparently it is much much more. A community. A lifestyle. A media. A universal movement. Bloggerdom. The Blog-o-sphere.

Mostly I learned we are all doing it wrong. That's the whole problem with shit like this. Once you see it on the nightly news it's ruined no matter what it is or how cool it was.

So we learned that our "free" day passes were completely useless. We couldn't get into any panels or lectures or anything, just the stupid trade show- which I'm still not sure isn't open to all anyway. I filled out several things to try to win stuff.

Then it was off to Casino, the Waterloo Brewery, then a liquor store, .... etc. A day of walking around downtown and drinking beer. But wait.... I don't drink. So I had no excuse at all. I was just watching.

But today will be different. Today Lou Barlow and Calexico and someone else cool play free day shows. Day shows and free day parties are the absolute best part of SXSW. It's all I ever do each year. Of course I don't drink, I'm barely single, and I am not involved with the music industry. But still- from my point of view it's all there is worth doing during this festival.

2005-03-17T05:58:00.000-08:00

Sorry guys.

Trying to get this blog up to code, I tryed some experiments. The only thing I seem to have accomplised is erasing all my comments- from both my readers.

Michael logged in with a compelling and thorough definition of the word BITCH HOLE which bears repeating:

For your further inspection:

1. BITCH HOLE
A hole commonly found under the belly button of a whore dirty bitch. BEWARE: This is not the usual good kind of vagina we are all accustomed to, this is a very smelly and angry vagina.
Dude!! Last night I went to a party and fell into a bitch hole!!! That stupid cunt reeked my dick up and won't stop calling my cell and complaining about what an asshole I am for cumming all over her dog!
http://www.urbandictionary.com/d...=bitch+hole&r=f

Thank you michael. Although I had guessed closely, I had missed a whole element of the true meaning of those words. This explains why the wife hates my new word so much. And you might care to know that she actually gasped with astonishment when reading your definition.

2005-03-14T12:48:00.000-08:00

Someone spray painted the words BITCH HOLE on my brother's friend's truck.

He has a big black new truck that he cares about- he probably waxes it and takes it in for regular tune-ups. So the other day he came out to go to work and there on his truck, in giant silver letters he found 'bitch hole'. I forgot to ask if it was spelled correctly.

I find it all unbelievably funny for some reason and have been using this new word constantly since I heard the news.

2005-03-04T06:42:00.000-08:00

I saw a painting I liked in a magazine. So I looked up the artist on Google, found his website and wrote him a note. I wrote:

I like your stuff. I would like to see it in person next time I'm in the New York area.

Later that night, he wrote back. He wrote:

Thank you Chris,
I took a quick look at your recent landscapes. I like the more realistic ones the best - over the "modernist" ones. Good luck.

He makes crazy paintings that look like R Skagen, Picabia, Neo Rauch and he paints like Norman Rockwell, but sexy twisted scenes of pubescent teen girls and choir boys and suburbs and jets and recliners, with all sorts of referenc to Catholicism and art history. The thing I read even used my favorite art statement word "PSCHO-SEXUAL"and mentioned E Fischle. I love shit like that. But I know it is wrong.

At a thing I saw P. Trussell. He said, in context of a conversation about the vast history of painting's weight on a painter, that (paraphrasing)- looking at the future of painting is too dismal, so all you have is history....

"I agree, I agree"..... I can hear them all saying. I'm always so suprised by art that I have trouble seeing through it quickly.
The old ones see through it immediately. They are not distracted by execellant draftsmanship, horrendous draftsmanship, humor, originality, or shock.

Here's that guy: mikecockrill

2005-02-25T08:54:00.000-08:00

Today is the second day I have spent lots of time listening to Lou Reed.

Anytime I listen to real real really real authentic music (or any art) I find it a little intolerable. It is after all an outpouring of realness from a human. The flow of something out of another's brain. So it's gonna seem strange and forein to anyone other than that person. It should at least. I guess it's if they have honest thoughts in their own brain as opposed to being the type of people that just imitate and except only. With muscians, and any artists, I will begin to get used to their language if I listen long enough, then once I catch on I can really feel it too. That's why once I like someone really, I can always go back and find realness in the older work, usually more raw and unpolished, but with knowing what to look for.

So I go back to Velvet Underground now. But I can't stand when artist's keep doing the same stuff. I can't bear to hear Heroin ever again even if it's a new version. Or what's that one where "he is a she"......etc.
But I try to remember what's that one about "I live in a garbage can.... "
I used to love it so much. It's definitely Velvet Underground, not Lou Reed on his own.
Or Satelite of Love??? I named my truck that years ago.

I also spend time today listening to "The Freed Weed" by Sebadoh. It's really old- I had it on cassette in Atlanta. It's been years and years since I even thought of it. However, in the years since that time, I have gotten really into Bakesale, then Harmacy, then that newer one with the red cover(The Sebadoh). But especially Bakesale. I haven't listened in years now though, maybe today.
I don't have anything by Lou Barlow on his own. I have plenty of Dinosaur Jr. and that's another post, another band, but still it's associated in my memories.

Okay Just checked- I have lost my copy of that red Sebadoh album AND Harmacy. Do you have them? Return them. Do you have a copy that isn't my copy? Let me borrow it.
Luckily I do have Bakesale still in it's cover.

2005-02-24T13:20:00.000-08:00

I have trouble enjoying the music of Lou Reed.

2005-01-31T11:31:00.000-08:00

Dani Wrote:
"The New Construction" is upsetting to me. it captures the disorganization of home repair. just looking at it makes me feel uneasy.

Dani Wrote:
she's pretty, by the way, Michael's lady friend.
good for him.

Dani Wrote:
ok, with nothing better to do today i went to Michael's site & found plenty of info on the girlfirend, Laura. i kept waiting for someone to introduce us last night but got nowhere. i considered introducing myself but wondered if maybe i had met her before?
she did look familiar so i must have at least seen her at a show before.
tell Michael he can send her with Liz to the clothes swap if she has any interest. Liz's invite is in the mail & she really can invite anyone she likes.

Chris Wrote:
your a retard.
you kept waiting for someone to introduce you to michael's girlfriend?
why didn't you just ask?
did you think you were at a formal function?
did you notice the decor in the bathroom?
did you notice the toothless fool who didn't know what time it was?
did you notice how many other people were wearing Versacei?

i gave that dumbass three dollars.
michael asked if i would be mad if he spent it on beer.
then after i gave him three dollars he told me he didn't like the art.

Dani Wrote:
& i'm sure by "you're a retard" you mean "thank you for coming out to the show"

Dani Wrote:
i felt a little bad about listening to like 3 minutes of that guy's story & then interrupting to get out of the conversation & ask you something. but what else could i do, listen to the guy?
that was pretty out of the question.

Dani Wrote:
are you trying to say Versace?
i was not wearing Versace, my sweater was from Anthropologie & the pants were from a little boutique by Central Market. (coat from Nordstrom, shoes by BCBG, purse from Gap.)
we had been out to a nice dinner. did you want me to go to the nice restaurant downtown wearing the same crap i'd wear to a coffee shop?
i didn't think so

2005-01-30T15:04:00.000-08:00

Last night was the big "Art Party" at Mojo's.

Some guy missing teeth came and sat next to me on the ugly plastic couch. We were all just sitting there and we all tried to ignore him. But he kept talking to me. He was confused about how people were drinking beer at this hour, so my curiosity piqued, I turned my attention to him. He was explaining the beer selling hours in Austin, which I am very familiar with. He said that between 12 and 7 they can't sell beer. He thought it was 6:30, so he couldn't understand how they were getting away with selling it. Then he started babbling about when the hell was the sun gonna come up. So I knew that this man believed it to be 6:30 AM. So I asked him how long he had been up and he said four days
..

So I got trapped talking to this fool on and off all night. At some point he asked for money. He wanted 10, then 5. I agreed to give him two.

But I only had a twenty dollar bill. Nothing smaller. So I tried to get change, but they didn't have it at the counter. Finally I walked all the way to 7-11 (a block) and bought one of those new M & M candy bars to get change.

So I walked back and the guy was still sitting there. He had nowhere to go. He had already explained that he had been staying in a hotel room, and that was over. He had passed out the night before at some girls house (hadn't he been up for four days???), but he had nowhere else now. So I ended up giving him three dollars. He went to Burger King and got 99 cent hamburger and returned.

So finally I found myself alone with this fucker again. He had figured out that the art on the walls was mine and that this was an art opening (it wasn't obvious even to people not on drugs) so he started talking about art. He was telling me about an amazing artist he knew who he had met in jail and who lived in an apartment and painted, but who had used to live in that state hospital. This crazy bastard was supposed to be an AWESOME painter, and he said he was VERY critical. For example, "I don't like this art" he said, referring to mine.

2005-01-04T14:27:00.000-08:00

I went and hung paintings at Mojo's Daily Grind today.

I will show there all this month and have an opening reception at some point.
I really didn' t want to do the show but now that it's done I'm glad. The work looks good there. Plus people who don't know shit about art usually like my paintings. And stoner kids sometimes like my work. So good. They don't buy paintings, but they like them.

A girl that worked there said she was having an opening "upstairs" this weekend and I should come. I asked if there was a gallery upstairs. She said it was her apartment and that she was just having a bunch of people get together a show and she was encouraging them to price everything really reasonably, "like 30 or 40 bucks...". She said that way people can actually afford the work and the artists get some exposure.

See????? That's exactly the kind of shit Schliefke has been talking about. We don't need exposure if 30 or 40 bucks is all people will spend. So now I wonder what that little girl will think of the prices I put on all the paintings that I hung. The cheapest I did was 100 for some 9X11" drawings that are framed. For framed art that is cheap I think because if it were a framed Monet print at the mall it would be 100 bucks.

But why bother for 30 or 40 bucks? And why does that non-art person live in the apartment of Mojo's anyway?

Besides I have a job right now (sort of) and I don't need to sell the work. So I will price it what I want and it doesn't matter if it sells or not.

2004-12-16T15:43:00.000-08:00

When Gay Things Happen To Straight People:

Today I was sitting in a coffee shop sipping a soy milk coffee and enjoying
a
slice of quiche, a little worried about getting a peice of spinich caught in
my
teeth or souring my breath with onions, wearing my new sweater, and
pondering
the lyrics of the new Postal Service cd. It sounds like Pet Shop Boys and is
filled with lines like:

I was waiting for a cross-town train in the London Underground
When it struck me...

I greased the lens and framed the shot using a friend as my stand-in...

I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water,
And pictures of you and I'm not coming out....

I guess I'm just having a Gay Day.

2004-12-09T14:42:00.000-08:00

Today I worked @ the animation studio. The video directors came from LA and the art rep came from wherever he is from, and they all gave critism. Our guy here, our boss and our art director is going to fold under all the pressure eventually because no matter what he does someone wants it different, and all the opinions on what is good are different. So one guy is saying more realistic and another guy is saying more abstract and our guy is running around trying to please them both. He hasn't slept in weeks and has run out of money paying us, so he isn't getting paid at all. And if we don't finish before he completely runs out of money he will have to take out a loan to pay us.

So that is bad for him. As for me- I am the least experienced and surely the most disposable. I will certainly get fired first when the payroll is gone. This sucks some, but it is such fact that I am almost happy with it. Knowing it will happen actually helps me not carry around any of his stress, or take it home with me.

I just have the old familiar feeling of being unemployed to contend with. Besides I have done some nice artwork for this job that I can have as portfolio pieces. So I just have to prepare for that day.

Meanwhile I have the Art Bazaar going on. Last night I went and got to watch all the artists get sloppy drunk and talk shit about each other's work. Big fun. Drunk artists are even more arrogant. But I was sober and got in a few shots myself. We are all such whiney babies.

Artist 1 says to Artist 2: "I love your work"
Artist 2 leaves, thinking to himself how much Artist 1 sucks.
Artist 1 turns to Artist 3: "He sucks so much"
Artist 3 thinks to himself "You suck worse", but says, "He does suck"

2004-12-02T16:26:00.000-08:00

Chris Wrote:

have you started smoking pot again?
do you feel like you could probably smoke pot and "get away with it"?
do you think that smoking pot is like drinking tea, or smoking cigs, or coffee
and that you could do it all day and not have it effect the other areas of your
life?
are you stoned right now?
did you also get stoned yesturday?
do you need pot to be able to sleep?
do you remember your dreams when you smoke pot?
have you gotten so stoned that you can't find your car keys?
do you eat food when you get stoned?
do you watch daytime television?

Dani wrote:

you're welcome Chris, so glad you liked the sweater.

Dani wrote:

yesterday
you misspelled it
are you stoned?

Dani wrote:

i've never been much into pot.
is there some reason you are thinking about it so much?

Chris Wrote:

see????
you are high.
I don't know about any sweaters.
do you smoke pot until you are confused and don't understand conversations?
even conversations you actually started?
do you get so stoned you think people are looking at you?
have you ever smoked so much pot you passed out?

Chris Wrote:

do you think you are stoned now?
are you in the act of smoking pot as we speak?
do you eat pot in foods?
do you know where to score pot?
do your freinds smoke pot?

Chris Wrote:

I work now with three guys who smoke pot all day. Sometimes I watch. Usually it
smells good, sometimes the stench is unbearable- like an ashtray.

One guy told me my food smelled like egg fart dog shit. He was sensitive to
smells that day.

Dani wrote:

what were you eating?

Chris wrote:

egg and bacon breakfast taco

Dani wrote:

you could leave this part out of the blog, just in case my friend reads it.
i haven't talked to her about it, i kinda' don't think it's any of my business.

Chris Wrote:

usually i watch these people smoke pot. usually I just sit there watching, a
little nervous because of the unseemlyness of my being in such a setting,
considering how I used to smoke so much and then quit. And added to that they
are always very aware of how much I don't smoke. Sometimes they ask why as if
it is so uncommon to not get high all day every day that someone who does (that is, does not smoke all day)
might have some kind of disorder.

Chris Wrote:

Sometimes I fuck with them, as subtly as possible. I will question them. I will
reveal absurd things about myself. I will ask them some ridiculous question or
tell them mind boggling things like: "If I didn't quit smoking pot, I would
still be smoking a lot of pot..." or: "if I wasn't addicted to pot I would smoke it all the time". I question them on the quality of their
stash, and the cost. I mention other recreational drugs. Mostly though, they
all think I am stoned all the time, naturally.

****EDIT OUT Dani self-help drivel******

Chris Wrote:

No. It is normal. That is stupid self-help talk. I hate to even hear that bullshit. Everyone smokes pot except us. I'm even taking it out of the blog. And no comments about that either.

2004-12-02T06:56:00.000-08:00

It's been so long since I was last here......

Since I last posted I have:

Witnessed the birth of my child, A Boy....

Went Trick or Treat'in with children

Had a contractor and home builder start construction on our house

Started a temporary 40-hour-a-week job working on an animated music video

Had an Open Studio in which I sold paintings. Selling paintings sent me into a happy mood swing that lasted a long while.

Built a wooden table

Got a new computer

Had a Birthday in which I got a sweater, a corduroy jean jacket, and a cake

Had Thanksgiving Dinner with my Dad's side of the family (and on that day successfully flew a kite with the 4 year old child)

2004-10-15T06:06:00.000-07:00

I had this nightmare that I was a painter and my only source of income was selling paintings and I had a family and an ever increasing mortgage......

Did the show. Made sales and all went well, but the 'post-show depression' still overcomes me. It is similar to the next morning feeling I get when I go out drinking at bars. There is a sense that anything could happen, a sort of expectation of some kind of adventure or even just a future anecdote in the making, before I go. But the next morning there is just a tired feeling that something was missing. It's all in my head because it couldn't have gone better. I should become something. An electrician. A Plumber. A teacher. An auto mechanic.

2004-10-09T05:55:00.000-07:00

Today, Saturday, I should be able to get a lot done. Everyone is off doing stuff, there is a baby shower this afternoon, no one will be here all day. So I will work.

Struggling with some paintings, but that is supposed to be good. The 'Traveling' paintings would be funner if there wasn't the pressure to try to finish them by Wed. Or Thursday. But that is always the case. I always seem to do really good work, fun work which ends up being good, right after a show. When the pressure is gone. Sometimes it takes a few days to get over the fact that nothing sold, but once that bit of depression fades I'm off to the studio and can do stuff. I need to be a little arrogant in there. That's when they are weird and/or funny or whatever.

I was digging around the studio and came across an old one I did one afternoon while in a mood. Schliefke and I had gone to Frisco and made fun of all the old people eating, the gross food, and the fat waitress- all of it was funny. When we got back I painted it and it was funny and all, but I never showed it or thought about it again, just stored it away forever. So now I look at it and it is pretty good. Funny. Arrogant. Or maybe not arrogant just confident.

Since artwork never sells that well anyway it might as well be funny and arrogant. I want to quit painting stuff that subconsciously follows rules. The best stuff I ever do I do with a certain rebelliousness. Rebelliousness against no one in particular, just this secret knowledge that it would not be acceptable to some imaginary instructor or parent or authority. Or maybe just not 'sell-able'. It's more fun, it's funnier to people who share that sence of humor, and I at least come out with some modicum of dignity when it's over.

2004-10-07T18:51:00.000-07:00

After dinner I went and rode the bike.

I rode up and down the neighborhood streets slowly. It's not a great bike, but it was a free gift from Amy who got a new forty-dollar-thrift-store-bike and wanted to give it away. All it needed to ride was a new tube. All it needs now is a tune up to tighten everything up and it will be great.

Riding at night like this reminded me of when I was in eighth grade. My dad moved out and with him went all parental control. Each night when my mom went upstairs at about nine- I was a free man (age 12). So I would ride around and listen to my walkman at night cruising all around my quiet little neighborhood. Sometimes I even rode all the way to the lake, across the footbridge, through Zilker, through Barton Hills, and all the way to Bretta's. Or just down the hike and bike trail to the lake and to the high school. Sometimes I went the other direction- Triangle Park. It was also easy to ride to my own school. While in that neighborhood I could visit the Safeway or 7-11, both open 24 hours a day, Safeway had Ms. Pacman.

I always listened to the walkman and I still remember my whole record collection (on tape):

All six Van Halen albums
Quiet Riot
Ratt
Twisted Sister
The Cars- Candy-O and Shake It Up dual cassette. I loved this. It was both albums on one tape so you didn't have to rewind or anything.

Motley Crue- Shout at the Devil and Too Fast for Love which was the one with the rip off of the Rolling Stones' Sticky Finger album cover. It had a close up shot of a leather-clad rock star crotch and Sticky Fingers had a close-up of a jeans clad rock star crotch with a cucumber in the pocket that was designed by Andy Warhol. Shout at the Devil was secretly a little scary to me at night because of thier careless devil refrencing lyrics and I wasn't quite that confident that the devil wouldn't possess me like in the Excorsist to be openly mocking Satanism.

2004-10-06T15:46:00.000-07:00

With just one week to go, I have been very busy preparing for the "Should'a been a Plumber, Too" show.

Today me and the other guys in the show went up to the radio station to do an interview/promotion for the big art show. It was bad, but not nearly as excruciating as last time. We haven't heard it yet so I shouldn't speak too soon. But knowing how it worked it was more relaxed a little. I didn't really talk much again, but so what. The other guys all talked plenty and sounded good.

We got there early and met at a bar. It was a bar I have drank at many times.
afterwards we went to another bar that I have drank at many times. Hole in the Wall. So many stories about me and Hole in the Wall. They sold it and all so now the new owners have fixed it up some, but basically it is the same old place. The same old day-time bar smell. I watched as they drank beer and we told stories of drunken adventures.

As for the show- all is going pretty well. I refuse to stress over it. I will try to finish up everything I am working on but if not I don't care. There will be the open studio in November so anything I don't get done now I will have for that. And then the Christmas Bazaar in Dec.

So I will definitely have:

"Backyard Fish Fry (A True Story)"

"As If None Of It Ever Happened We All Bought Houses and Moved Away"

"The Nice House, The Nice Neighborhood"

"Traveling Over Tennessee"

Hopefully I will have also "Blue Genies", another Traveling painting, and maybe a highway thing.

2004-09-15T13:32:00.000-07:00

Something happened last night that was so horrendous that I can't get the image of it out of my mind. I just keep playing it over and over.
I finished watching a movie and was turning out the light to go to sleep when I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. So I turned back on the light and it was a giant roach. It flew into my bedroom and landed on the door. Then it leapt about three feet from the door to the wall right over the bed where I sat horrified. Then it stood up tall, spread it's wings and...I swear to God.... squirted something out it's ass. It was a black tar like substance that squirted out then the thing ran down the wall. This black stuff it left was a small splatter and a squirt about an inch long. I raced to get a broom (the only way I can actually kill these things with) and there was ANOTHER one on the broom handle. It was like they were swarming.

So by the time I got back the first one was gone, but while I was searching I found another, the mate I think. The black stuff, I have determined, is some kind of sperm or egg mating love juice and what I witnessed was a Discovery Channel mating ritual between two giant cock roaches. I finally was able to kill one, and I left it for dead but this morning when I looked for it it was gone, there was just a little stain and some guts left.

I know this is the second time I have written here about these damn bugs. But I do live in a nice house. It must sound infested, but I assure you that I am just very sensitive to these things. The pregnant one has no concern what so ever and will pick them up with her HANDS. And she makes fun of me and and told my own father that I cry like a little girl when I see one.

2004-09-04T19:48:00.000-07:00

We went and saw Garden State.

It was great. Really. Laugh out loud, and thoughtful, and all that. Really great if you yourself have ever gotten wasted at a party passed out and woke up without a clue where you were. And it was a tender love story too.

I read a review about it and the review said it was good but was weak in areas where it seemed to wander off and 'try too hard'. I disagree. The scenes the review pointed out to support this were off the wall in a way that really did work well, I think. So there you go.

Spent today thinking about bath tubs. The pregnant one wants a claw-foot tub. An old antique heavy one. It would be nice but what a pain in the ass it is to drive around Texas looking in antique stores trying to find old shit then fix it up and build it into a new house.

The addition is going well and it will be really great. But we've hit a snag, as we knew would have to happen and now there is a bunch of worrisom shit that I can't imagine how will be solved. So to not think about that we instead talk about claw-foot bathtubs. I will enjoy soaking in a giant bathtub if it ever happens, but you know. All day. And looking at brochure after brochure, magazine after magazine, website after website. Who cares????

Then to further not think about things we went to the outlet malls in San Marcus to try to find me a suit or clothes or something to wear to my sisters wedding. That was pure hell. I saw shirts I would be happy to have on, ties that would be fine, but what next? I didn't buy anything. And I don't want a stupid black suit that looks like a cheap stupid black suit. I want something with a little flare.

2004-08-26T16:53:00.000-07:00

So much going on since last post:

Woke up Friday August 20th and discovered a large cap on my back molar was gone (where could it go?) and a large ragged hole was left. So I called dentist and they told me to come right that minute, they just happened to have a space. "Wasting the morning at the dentist is not what I had in mind for today!" I whined to anyone who would listen (the wife).
While at the dentist Friday, they scolded me for not having my teeth cleaned since March. "Most of my friends haven't had their teeth cleaned in years", I thought. "When should I come in?" I said. "Monday". So Monday I went back and got my teeth cleaned. Now they are minty fresh.
Thought of CH... twice in the last week and realized I haven't talked to him in months. So I called him. He invited me to see his new house but I told him not to give me directions until later because I was driving. So I called later and he didn't answer his phone. He said his fiancee left him and he is single living in his new house.
Searched online for a job. Sent in many resumes and recieved not one damn responce.
Met with Homebuilder R and checked out the plans for our home addition. Someday we will have the truly bad-ass house. He made plans that are a two-story add on so every child will have their own room, and the wife and I will have a bedroom suite with jacuzzi bath and bedroom balcony overlooking our magnificent neigbors yard and garage, including a stunning veiw of our own roof.
Took grandma to lunch twice. She in fact reminded me of CH... by asking, "who was that dumb boy you used to run around with who you would get so drunk with all the time and always end up in trouble?"
Went Austin Community College, talked to a counselor, looked over my ridiculous school transcript which is sad record of a comical acedemic career spanning almost 15 years (many credits have in fact expired).
Registered for and then dropped a class.
Witnessed M Schlim buy a $60 dollar bike with his non-existent rent money. If he can't afford it I may buy it myself. I should tell him I guess, or maybe he will read this.
Saw Hellboy.
Started reading "A Scanner Darkly" I'll tell you when I'm done.

2004-08-12T06:56:00.000-07:00

Thursday morning and the schedule has become crowded already.
Here's my list:
Have to stop by my mother's office and pick up Grandma's wallet, with her old driver's licence and social security card.
Have to drop off child at daycare and pay them $5oo.
Have to go and buy wood.
Have to go to the gallery and pick up a painting that they want stretched.
Have to go build that stretcher and one other.

Started a painting yesturday. It will be called:
And As If None Of It Had Ever Happened, We all Bought Houses and Moved Away.

It's a picture of a bunch of houses. Well at least it's a start.
I'll want it framed if it turns out well because it's pastel on board. And I'm starting to think I would like to do the October show after all.

Went over possible baby names today.
Finn, Wade, Fredrick, Hugh, Maxwell Dingo, Calvin, Whitman, ...etc.

Hugh Fredrick???? Can you imagine that?
I picked Maxwell Dingo, but everyone has voted against that, dingos are wild Australian dogs that apparantly eat babies.
But I read about a painter named Wolf, who was American (or maybe English), so what's the difference?

Everyone seems to agree on Finn, but recently one of the Dixie Chicks named thier baby that. And the Goldstein's have a dog named Finn.
I hated Hugh Fredrick, but it has since grown on me.

How about Little Jimmy?

2004-08-11T11:31:00.000-07:00

We made it home!

We drove halfway across the country with children in a van piled to the ceiling with stuff. We ate all kinds of crappy "road food". We crossed mountains and rivers and major metropolotin areas like the Bronx and New Jersey. We stayed in nice hotels and very crappy hotels. We visited many Walmarts in all different states. We went to Cracker Barrels. We stopped in Nasheville and I saw the movie Collateral.

Finally we arrived in Austin. Within hours all the crap, pressure, anxiety, and chores came crashing down. We picked up the poor smelly, skinny, coughing (kennel cough) dog; ka-ching, $300. We found our crate with a months worth of junk mail and bills, ka-ching $1,000,000. The child goes back to daycare tommorow, ka-ching $500. Grandma needs all kinds of atttention.
There is a strange idiot light on my dashboard. The truck needs an oil change. My computer is broken and this one I borrow will go away in a day or two.

So I spent a day looking online at job postings. Turns out I have no skills, resume, or prospects- who knew?
I am too broke to go to a coffee shop.

So I read random people's blogs online and take pleasure in their witty posts about the mundane little things in thier lives and soon I decide to write this.

2004-07-28T08:02:00.000-07:00

We took the ferry over to Martha's Vineyard. I wanted to do at least that this year, since New York City seems out of the question. I still hope to go up to Boston for day. Tomorrow maybe. Or next week before we leave.

We took the Mother in Law. But it always seems that she takes us, whenever she is with us.

I went into that art gallery again Vineyard Haven. This year I wasn't as impressed by the art as last year. Last year I remember thinking how cool it was and it actually inspired me to paint and try. The work was good and maybe better than what I was doing, but it wasn't out of reach. I felt I could actually do it if I worked on it. This year I didn't get that feeling of wanting to try at all. I probably could do it, but I wouldn't want to, and a lot of it was really crappy. I just don't see how any of it could be worth it. Some of it was too realistic, boringly so. Some of it wasn't so realistic, but very small and boring subject matter. All of it seemed the same. Boring.

But they did have Julie Speed stuff again, and this year even more than last. At the very back of the gallery, on the back wall I noticed a large landscape that looked like Wolf Kahn and looking closer, it was indeed. It was priced at $60,000. I just read a book on this guy. Last year I read a book on Thomas Hart Benton and the exact same thing happened. I went into this little art gallery and they had an original Thomas Hart Benton. I can't get over how weird this is. I can't really explain it to anyone, because it doesn't really sound as weird as it is when I tell it. But the coincidence is uncanny. Of all the artist's in the world, and so completely random. I keep trying to find an explanation for it in my head. Both times I checked out the books from the Woods Hole Library well in advance to the trip to the gallery, could I have somehow stumbled on them because other people had been reading up? Both times I found the books on the shelf, not just lying out on a table or displayed on an endcap. They were just back on a shelf filed with dozens of other art books. Last year I was specifically interested in Benton and was before I even got up here. This year I had barely ever heard of Wolf Kahn before and picked the book just by the cover. Well whatever.

I also always seem to notice the number 311 in the weirdest of places, like everytime I look at the clock it seems to be 3:11, and I always seem to get $3.11 cents back in change when I buy things. That is also a weird phenomenon that I can never explain to others because it just isn't that weird when you tell it.

So anyway, I remarked on the Julie Speed paintings (intaglio prints) when I was in the gallery yesturday as a way to tell the lady that I, too, was from Austin and that was the ice breaker that got us to talking. But this year was different. I didn't feel the necessity like last year to kiss her ass. I know that she isn't interested in seeing what I do (she straight up said: I won't look at your web site), and I'm not all that interested in showing her. But I did tell her I was a painter and that I worked out of Austin, and when she asked if I was represented by a gallery I told her I had been but it closed, and now I was "self-representing". And "no I don't have a card". Lies, almost all of it. She said, "that works for some people". See? Why bother? It's all bullshit.

So this goes with my current dilema of a career. I want to do something for money, something that actually makes money, and earn a living. Then I can peacefully paint in the afternoons. I guess that's the catch. I want to earn enough to pull my weight by noon, so I can still paint daily.

2004-07-22T09:10:00.000-07:00

finally settling into life here in woods hole. vacation mode. a gentle life where you wake up and spend the day doing what you want and then going to the beach, then eating dinner. dinner is a big ritual. but this year we aren't eating seafood, like normal (pregnant, avoiding mercury). I don't care really I don't care that much about seafood. But fish usually does make it feel more vacation like.

This town is full of people who take pride in how little this town changes from year to year. They boast of how they kept a McDonald's from opening here- even though I don't see how they did or how they can forever.

this year the big gossip is some guy is trying to get a permit to build a two acre oyster farm right out in the beach. the beach that i always paint pictures of, the one on the website, the only damn beach in town. So everyone is freaking out. By everyone I mean the handfull of old fossils that populate this town. They had a big town meeting and one concerned couple took a painting they bought from me, a painting of the beach in question, and showed it to the town's selectmen at the meeting. They cried, "this is the very beach you'd be ruining!" The meeting was televised and it showed my painting on tv, and they said my name and called me a "summer resident". I'm famous.

Now this has all called into question the fact that a bunch of non-residents keep showing up on this little private beach. This is very upsetting to many of the people who are supposed to be there. This is not the least bit upsetting to me personally because many of them are young good looking people who are very apt to swim naked (some are actually from European countries where it would be unheard of to swim any other way, God bless them. Others are just young American hippy/punk types who know better than to wear bikinis, God bless them. And one is an older- my age- artist type who seems unwilling to change before she gets to the beach even though she lives across the street. So she wears a bikini, but changes in and out of it right there in the open before and after her swim. I secretly call her "Double D", God bless her and her Double D's.) So this weekend they plan to actually post a person at the gate and turn away anyone who doesn't belong on the beach. This will be a verry controversial situation, because many residents of this town have been coming to this beach for decades but live just out of the neighborhood. In fact my own stepdaughter's father will be unable to enter even though he has been swimming there all his life, and his parents all their lives.

2004-07-03T17:40:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to Napolean Dynamite. Great. Very nostalgic. I spent the rest of the night trying to figure out who the Napolean Dynamite of my high school was. There were many. And someone, somewhere, is seeing that movie and remembering their high school life and their high school Napolean Dynamite was......ME!!!!
Someone out there is seeing that movie and thinking I remember that poor bastard Chris...
And as much as I believe there are people out there thinking that, as bad as I was there were those unfortunate souls who were so so so much worse off than I. People whose nerd-dom reached such levels that you would swear(not even trying to be mean) that they were mentally retarded. I know I was weird, but I could speak. I've learned over the years by running into people who knew me then and I was thought of as a stoner. A full time pot head, the kind of stoner who is too stoned to ever make any effort to conceal the fact that they are stoned at all times.

I have not seen Farenheit 911. I really want to, but mostly just to get it out of the way, like a chore I must do. Going to movies has become such a cherished treat for me that when it does happen I just want to go off somewhere in some other place. Get lost in a story. Most of the time, like last night, I am not in the mood to get educated. Especially something that is gonna make me upset. I want to see it soon, thought.

Today worked all day trimming the trees that were overgrown and hanging onto the roof of the house. I rented a power pruner (chainsaw on a stick). Worked all day, dirty sweaty hard labor with a dangerous power tool and when finally done all I can think of is a delicious hamburger. That will not happen. It's fish night. I can't do anthing about fish night except maybe sneak out and get a burger somewhere. Or cook myself.

2004-06-30T15:22:00.000-07:00

The day I've had.

When I woke up I was already late. So got up and drove to grandma's. Picked her up and headed to the eye doctor. Bad news for her- her eyesight is shot and there isn't a damn thing anyone can do about it. Macular degeneration. You'll get it. I'll get it. Everybody will get it. And when you do you can no longer read or watch tv. So if that's all that's left in life for you to do, well......

So I left her in her room. I came home. Liz's car is broken. So I put it in neutral and pushed it out into the street and jump started it with my truck. Then she drove it and I followed to the auto mechanic. This will be my new mechanic. It is a bunch of punk rock kids. I liked them so much I decided to mention that crazy annoying fan belt noise my truck has been making for months and they diagnosed it on the spot and ordered a part. So when we go back to pick up Liz's car we will leave my truck and they can fix that too. And if I ever meet someone who has a broken car I will send them to these guys.

Then I went to Little Deli for lunch. Very delicious. I love that place, except for their open patriotism. I just ignore it because surely one of them has some poor son or daughter or relative over in Iraq. And they make a damn good sandwich. Today I had a Turkey and Provolone on Kaiser Roll, with pickle, and Fritos.

Then I painted in the garage studio. I worked on the commision painting.
I listened to Cat Power, Bonnie "Prince" Billy, and Stephen Malkmus. Plus it poured down rain the whole time. Very moody.

2004-06-29T20:15:00.000-07:00

in the last days i have been busily working on my studio.
i cleaned it all out. dan the electrician fixed the wiring so I can have plugs in there that seem a little safer. The last one was just dangling from the ceiling and wrapped with duct tape and had a power strip with dozens of things and another power strip filled with cords all plugged into it and the whole thing just dangled from the ceiling. humming. and sparking.

now it's all cleaned. I found a check someone wrote me over a year ago for 80 dollars, but it is too late to cash it. I thought about calling them up and asking if I could cash it, but decided it would be too embarrassing and stupid sounding. I do things like that. Waste money. I should keep this kind of thing to myself, not tell liz. As long as I only publish it here, she will never know.

I installed a florescent work light in the studio. I bought "daylight" bulbs, and put a bunch of warm colored halogen spot lights as well to try to balance it out. from outside at night it still looks ridiculously blue though. it looks like a fishtank in there. The neighbors will probably think I am trying to grow something. Oh and they flicker. A constant nerve wracking flicker.

Grandma dislocated her shoulder. She says she just woke up that way, which means she fell out of bed. I went there to see if I should take her to the emergency room and it looks terrible. the size of a melon and not in the right place. They sent a doctor and took X-rays, but no one seems to be doing anything else.

2004-06-25T07:01:00.002-07:00

as i write this the child is in the other room chanting over and over: "MR. Robbers, MR. Robbers..." over and over and over and over and over....

i woke up this morning to the delightful memory that we are out of coffee. i dragged up out of bed, found t-shirt on floor, dusted off dog hair, found shorts, found flip-flops, found truck keys, drove to sun harvest, saw the good-looking sun harvest girl working and was momentarily embarrassed at my unseemly appearance and the fact that i was actually wearing flip flops in public, shovelled french roast beans in a bag, ground beans on perculator setting which is very coarse, checked out with unnaturally cheerfull checkout lady, considered my life if i was to actually fill out an application and work here, drove home, brought coffee inside and waited.

soon liz brought me a delicious cup of steaming hot coffee.

2004-06-22T15:56:00.000-07:00

searched and searched for my wallet.

i was ready to leave, the child was watching mr. rogers, which i hate and she doesn't even like herself. but when i hear mr. rogers come on i know it's 9 am and i always feel like i should be gone by then. today is espcially bad because the child is only in underwear and still eating toast and i am nowhere near ready myself. so i need that wallet. so i look everywheare but the house is a mess and the more i can't find it the more i feel like the house is a mess plus it is gettin messier and messier by the minute because i am starting to throw things around searching. i move the couch away from the wall and toss off all the cushions. finally i can't take it anymore and snatch up the poor child and we leave without it. i decide i don't need it.

when i get her to school i realize i have let her dress herself- blue shirt, pink pants, lime green shoes, and i haven't brushed her hair. and she has a milk moustache. she looks like an orphan.

i paint but poorly. i decide that i suck as a painter. i decide that all the signs are there and have been all along i have only been refusing to recognize them.

i come home early and make canned black beans and eggs on tortillas. i watch cnn. i try to nap. i try to find wallet again.

finally at last i look in the snoopy lunch box that has been right here all day, in my way in fact, and there's my wallet and several other favorite toys of the child. she hid it like last week when she hid my cell phone.

2004-06-21T07:45:00.000-07:00

yesturday took the child to deep eddy swimming pool. i was willing and eager to drive all the way over there because it is a summer place that i frequented as a child, as did my mom, dad, and their parents too. it is very old austin, as am i. but i don't feel all that "old austin" when i go to my own neighborhood pool. i never run into old people. i often do at shipe, which is much closer to my house than barton springs or deep eddy, but not any of the pools i can walk to.

so in fact i did run into an "old" person. i didn't know him all that well, he was my girlfriend's best freind's boyfriend way back in the day. oddly enough one of the 2 times in my life that i have gone to schlitterbaun water park in new braunfels was with him. we were teenagers and drove down one tuesday stoned out of our minds and it was fun. except i think i was a little too stoned, feelin nervous, self conscience like the stoned often do... and with all those families and children everywhere. maybe we took something worse, more halucinajinic that could account for the trippy weird memories and extreme "nervousness".

now my child wants to go there and here i am- sober. i can't do it. she doesn't understand that without the aid of mind altering drugs i am unable to do things like schlitterbaun, animated horse movies, or other children's birthday parties at skate parks. other parents seem to stomach it with beer or less, but i am weak.

2004-06-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

took l to get her car. dropped her off then dog, child, and i headed to target. i do love a nice trip to target. i put a 50 pound bag of dog food in the cart and it was rolling funny and i should have known but... the child climbed on the front of the cart like children of people who shop at target tend to do and sure enough, the whole thing toppled over on top of her. she didn't cry just waited while i ran over and rescued her. i checked for broken bones and head injuries. then i bought her a ball- one of those creepy weird slimy stretchy rubber things that she and i love so, and her mother hates so. then we went on about our business.

i took her to school, but forgot to pack her a lunch for "sack lunch" day. damn sack lunch day. so i went back home, walked to store, bought jelly, walked back home, made peanut butter and jelly sandwich, drove back to daycare, dropped of lunch, drove back home. it's like i've had a day at work.

so i hope to paint today, but what? i have nothing really going on. no jobs. no works in progress. wait a minute..... i do! i forgot. i have a commision i am supposed to be doing. and i have to go to the gallery and do something for those damn people! screw that. i should go to barton springs, read, draw in sketchbook, check out bikini women and blow off another day.

2004-06-17T10:49:00.000-07:00

yesturday went on a family picnic. i always insist on fried chicken when going on family picnics, even though fast food fried chicken always makes me feel greasy and sick to my stomach. this picnic we had to bring my poor brain-damaged cousin, e. we picked her up because her car died, and we all headed to kentucky fried chicken. we got a family picnic feast bucket meal deal with a picture of dale jr. on it. that kind of ruined it for me, i wanted the old timey looking red and white striped bucket without some red-neck race car driver on it. dumbasses. plus they discontinued the baked beans so we ended up with that damned cole slaw- the hippy women wanted it when we were ordering, but i noticed no one ate it. there is nothing healthy about it anyway, the beans would have been more like a vegetable than that iceburg lettuce.

e is one of those people who is brain damaged but is unaware that they are brain damaged, so they talk and talk, carrying on about all sorts of subjects completely oblvious to the fact that they know nothing about anything.

one thing she does know about though, is that there are weirdos in the bathrooms at barton springs. weirdos who do weird nasty things and children should never be allowed in there alone. we all can agree on that.

the pool was closed.

the child amused herself by trying to kick pigeons.

KFC failed to include silverware(plastic ware) in the "picnic" meal deal, and the pregnant woman and children used up all the napkins as toilet paper in the scary bathroom.

so we had to all eat that greasy horrible food with our hands, and with no napkins, and i was sick all night, and ate it again for lunch anyway, and surely will be sick the rest of the day again.

2004-06-06T11:36:00.000-07:00

the older child is old enough to be sent on foot to the store to do errands. so at 7 am we sent her to fetch a sunday paper. i coached her on newspaper vending machine operation and told her where to find six quarters( which were in the pocket of my pants, which were in the middle of the kithen floor because... last night at about 10 :30 i was sitting outside on the deck drawing in the sketchbook while bugs were buzzing all around me. mostly there were june bugs, which i like, but also clouds of mosquitos and i suspected plenty of those giant tree-bug flying water-bug cock roach things. sure enough after being out there about half an hour i was suddenly attacked by a monster size one- sleak long and healthy, it was red, burnt sienna, moved lighntening fast and stood up straight and tall. it had swirling antennas and the fucker could hop about four feet, not even bothering to fly. it had an alert looking head that was shaped like a praying mantis and showed no fear. it suddenly appeared on my leg and i panicked. i frantically tryed to whisk it off with my hand- instinct not thought out, leaped up, knocked over the chair, and the little bastard only ran down my leg and i thought up my shorts, but i was jumping around cursing so much i couldn't tell for sure so i ran in the house and threw the shorts on the floor of the kitchen where the eight-year-old child happened to be standing in her jammy's drinking a glass of water.).

2004-06-03T13:33:00.000-07:00

the cat got run over.
she died instantly.

i guess that part is lucky. and i guess it's lucky the kids didn't see it. it got killed and the neighbor came and knocked on the door and discreetly told liz so the child wouldn't hear. also ke was in our backyard getting the lawn mower to do his yard when the whole thing happened so he went out too. liz had to identify the body, but ke did all the clean up, thank god and i guess all that is lucky too. he put her in a box and li called me crying (and cursing me for not answering my phone). i got the message and imediately came home. i buried her.

so get a new kitten imediately??? that was my first impulse, but of course conservative liz said no. and she was right. thank god she's around to raise these damn kids because left to my own devices i would just teach them to be wasteful, greedy, uncontrolled little americans. little consumers. little chases. little material people unable to process any feelings or resist any urge. they would live in the moment only. the would consider no one but themselves.

but some kitten out there will be put to sleep needing a home so why not?

little models of life. little life lessons. damn children are always having thier childhoods right in my presence. as i watch. everything has to be considered. everything has to be planned and weighed carefully for potenial damage. we must always calculate the impression we are making on those little un-mannered humans living in our house.

2004-03-29T06:10:00.000-08:00

i'm starting to hate and therefore neglect the blog.
i seem to only want to use it to talk shit about people. like c.

the whole thing with 'k'... faded away after i bitched about it for awhile. but i did have to resist going to the coffee shop near her office for a few days. i kept having this dream of her trying to get me to fetch her a coffee again, but this time taking her two dollars and driving away. laughing and laughing.....

it's just sick.

but what about 'c'(as if anyone doesn't know who i'm talking aboutl)?
when he told me about his conversation i was so furious with k that i forgot to laugh at how ridiculous he is.

i asked if he was still unemployed and he says he's going to start truck driving school, and immediately launched into: it's steady indoor work and you get to travell....etc.

so you can add truck driver to the long list of his careers.... truck driver, fireman, licenced real estate agent(what does this say about k's career?), small time pot dealer, ticket scalper...what the hell else?

he would take issue with describing him as a "small time" pot dealer. he might point out that the FBI did stake out his house and eventually bust down the door and storm the place. and why shouldn't he really? who wouldn't be proud of that? i wish he had actually been on 'cops'. what would i give?

should i feel bad talking shit about my friend behind his back? i know what a laugh he an k must have had at my expence so no. but, he is unemployed and does own a computer. what would stop him from reading this and summing up my life in an equally derogative two paragraph biography?

so see? the blog is stupid. it will have to be anonymous and read only by online people.

2004-03-24T07:41:00.000-08:00

still pissed about the new k situation.

saw her twice last week as noted, and again on st. patrick's day walking out of a bar with her kid. i wish i could say she was stumbling drunk out of the bar with her kid, but she wasn't. and the bar is owned by the kid's father- so it isn't even possible to imply that it is an example of bad mothering to have him there. not really.

but the new thing is that i saw her twice, and i was nice. and she was nice. but then c called and told me he also ran into her and she was talkin' shit behind my back. the BITCH.
all he said she said was that she was bragging about having me go fetch her a coffee. he said she even used the word, "fetch". oh i hate her.

that was the very day that i myself have been bitching about ever since it happened months ago. i have especially been bitching about it to c. so he knows. and he said he knows to her. so i know he said it to her. and i imagine they both laughed quite a bit.

but that wasn't even the most offensive thing that happened that day. that was the day she had me fetch her a coffee AND she gave me a lecture about gen wes clark. i didn't know who he was and she said, "you should read more." AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

that stupid horrible fat obnoxious dumb-ass ninth-grade drop-out GED-gettin' sloppy-wine-drinkin' hair-dresser quesadilla-eatin' real-estate-agent bitch.....................

and C.... you all know who i'm talkin' about- he isn't any better. he didn't need to tell me. he didn't need to participate, it's not like he stood up for me. he certainly didn't tell her anything like- but hey, don't you know that you are fat and stupid and we ALSO all laugh at you behind your back???? don't you know what we all say when we remind ourselves of the time you slept with c.h.?????? we laugh and laugh and laugh........ and your last name rythmes with whore, so don't you know what we call you?

vitriolic? yes maybe. but i will get over it. c loves all this. and he loves to run into old people. he loves to gossip. he loves to tell me news like so and so od. or the really funny one- so and so is making porno movies down in port aransas. and he loves to make fun of k and especially loves that it gets me so riled up.

2004-03-16T18:26:00.000-08:00

went to check out new schools for the child today.

at one we ran into k.

so if we go there our kid would be in the same school as her kid.

tommorow is st. patrick's day. oh st. patrick's day. it always reminds me of those good old green beer drinkin days.

st. patrick's day was during south by southwest and k's friend from ireland always comes to austin during sxsw. so i didn't know this girl, but she didn't know anyone in town either so she was walking around austin and stopped in to where i worked at a copy shop near dog and duck pub. so i took a lunch and we went there. it was about 11 in the morning and i was suffering from a hangover that was so bad i was really just still drunk from the night before. so we got a pitcher of beer and that started a long day of drinking. i never went back to work and never called them. and i got so drunk that i ran into the bartender's car in parking lot of the bar as she was coming into work. so i smashed into her car and she started screaming she was gonna call the cops, so me and the girl i didn't know from ireland took a cab home leaving the car behind. and i was never welcomed there again. k said she had never been more embarrassed to have company in town and for me to go on what ended up being a five or six day bender that resulted in a wrecked car, unemployment, and my drunkedly stumbling around the neighborhood knocking on doors asking people to give me a ride back to dog and duck pub.

and then of course there was the time i went to live with that girl in atlanta and i was desperate to go get a job. or i should say she was desperate for me to go get a job. while stopping in for lunch, i ended up drinking pitchers of green st. patrick's day beer all afternoon. so after werk the girl stopped off and bought groceries to cook a nice dinner but when she got home she was locked out of the apartment. so she rang and rang the doorbell and a neighbor told her he had seen me go in there. so she started calling on the phone but no answer. it turns out i was passed out on the couch and wouldn't wake up for the doorbell or the phone for hours and hours. so she had to just sit on the doorsteps all crying because the icecream melted.

anyone else? if anyone else feels i fucked them over on st. patrick's day comment below.

2004-03-14T16:05:00.000-08:00

went to kelly's restuarant had breakfast with the girls and liz. then my mom showed up, took the girls and liz and i went downtown to see 'grasshopper'. saw some things i want to improve on or actually just finish on the men's room mural.

i expected all the other animators to show up but only one. and bob.

that's it. it was a collection of shorts, grasshopper being one of about six. one really cool one was about base jumpers- kids who climb up giant antennas, bridges, cliffs, and even a skyscraper then parachute off. dumbasses. but it was cool. and there is definitely a whole underground society of these people throughout the world. they look like skateboarders or any extreme sport types- always remind me of "point break" or jackass. all healthy and the chicks are hot. but dumbasses still.

one funny one was about "table scaping" competion... people who create decorative table settings and these two judges judging them. it was like the movie best in show. funny and crazy.

at the end of all the films the filmmakers answered questions. a bunch of questions for bob. it seemed like there was some genuine interest in his film. so thats cool.

2004-03-11T10:04:00.000-08:00

went to breakfast with grandma today.

when i pulled up to drop her off after, there were two old men sitting in wheelchairs smoking out front. i walked her in and when i came out one old man yelled out, "hey i like your truck."
it was kinda hard to understand his words and it was definitely difficult to detect any hint of sarcasm in his tone- he was old as dirt and probably a lifetime smoker.

so i said 'what?' and walked over smiling to the two of them sitting there. one never said anything just sat there the whole time smoking with this evil kind of grin. the speaking one said something about pearl harbor and mentioned my truck again and finally i got it. he was talking about my truck being a mazda. he was probably a world war two vet, maybe even at pearl harbor, and was talking about my truck being japanese. so i said it says mazda but it's really owned by ford. it even takes ford parts (i think that's true but who the hell knows?).

he said "that's the end of ford then". the bastard.

i just walked away still not quite getting what a ass he was. it was only as i thought about it driving away that i even figured it all out. i thought of things i wished i had said. i started to get more and more pissed.

but he is a vet and all. and even though i've seen him there many times and can tell he is cantankerous old fucker, i guess he has his own reality. he probably saw people die. i should leave him alone and let him sit there and be mad at the japanese. i should maybe even be nice. let him tell me all his reasons about how i too should hate the japanese, for prides sake.
listen and keep my thoughts to myself. maybe not mention hiroshima. and i guess i should drive american made trucks even though they are pieces of shit. it wouldn't help anyway even if i shared his nationalism. japanesse probably even own the old folks home he is in (i should check. how?).

but fuck him.

i hate people. and i have to see him again and again.

2004-03-10T19:32:00.000-08:00

today worked that whole downtown aireal veiw painting out. it was so frustrating yesturday that i was ready to scream, but today with a fresh start and with it kind of dry i was able to finish it.
i think it is nice, and even good. the only complaint i have about it is that it seems very blue. for the way my palette is that just means 'muddy'. i have prussian blue in my palette so it kind of gets in every damn thing and if not carefull the whole canvas has a blueish tint. like today. but it is still good i think, and i hate to mess with it too much more. i always ruin them if i go back in. this one is very wet looking and quick.
thats another way mine get muddy. whenever i paint this way- all thick and lots of paint, and especially if i add a medium like linseed oil. i've gotten so used to doing entire paintings in just washes. never adding oil, only thin layers of very light paint. that way it kind of dries befor i go back over it.
i did the same kind of thing today only more medium instead of turpentine, so it's all wet and oily looking like washes but with richer color. blueish color in this case, but still richer. no part ever dries so i end up going over it again and again while it is wet and tacky. then it gets muddy.

2004-03-08T11:15:00.000-08:00

bought a knife in the water cd. it's good so far. in fact i like it enough that i really want to hear it and kind of look forward to going somewhere in the truck so i can.
also got that mekon's cd, punk rock. it's punk rock stuff of theirs from the late 70's re-published, or maybe just published for the first time. i like several of the songs quite a bit. the are perfectly catchy punk sounding with that familiar kind of yelling or sing song chanting. but comforting. and songs about nothing. i always love that about old punk rock. 2 minute songs about food or beer or waiting for a bus or just any everyday common thing.

2004-03-08T10:41:00.000-08:00

went to the dentist today and had a new dental hygenist. i have to say i really, really don't like this one. she is an old christian woman with a mannish haircut. she talked the whole time as i sat there. she picked and scraped and talked for what seemed like forever. she was painstaking- but in the end very good. my teeth do feel minty clean.

the thing about her talking was that it kept seeming to call for a responce from me. i kept having to murmer, 'ummhmmm', or she would stop altogether and let me answer. but my mouth was filled with cinnamon flavored spit the whole time. i kept having to swallow it and felt sick.

she went on and on about austin and how it's changed. then she said she had only lived here two years, and i could tell she was just dumb. while she talked my mind started to wander. i thought about people like her and their lives. she talked about church and her friend who went to church, so i knew she was a small town southern baptist. so i though about conservative people like her. i thought that they are all closed off from such a large part of life- it's like they are ignorant. even the very smart educated ones are. all the senators and politions and presidents and ceos and whatever. they spend all their time in that purely physical material world. they are unable to see life in a way i can't even explain- i just know it's there. it's the creative side maybe or just the intangible. i think thats why conservative veiwpoints are so easy to argue and see, and even believe if you aren't carefull. it's all simplified so it seems concrete and in plain black and white. even their religion is simplified down to plain right and wrong.

but the part they are missing is real enough. it just isn't easily put into words. it's real and so important that if you miss it you will miss everything and all you will have is this surface crap.

2004-03-04T09:35:00.000-08:00

yesturday went to smithville and hung out all day. i never actually do any work there, but it is usually worthwhile just for the inspiration and general booste in motivation. i plan on doing a three or four paintings down there this coming sunday and monday. we figure that if i have two days in a row, full days to work- then that might be enough time to get involved in something and actually work. but when i only go once a week- it gets cold and becomes chore like. but that was sort of how school was- i just worked a lot on my own between classes.

this will be good. but G does things his own way. he refuses to touch a computer. that's cool because then i can just do things his old fashioned way. but there is an old mac sitting in his studio, so yesturday i took a disk with hundreds of jpegs i've taken with digital camera over the months and showed him. he was kinda fascinated. i told him a digital camera means you can take hundreds of photos of any damn thing you want whenever the urge strikes you and you don't have to go to the expense of actually printing them all. but with the monitor you can at least look at them. and my disks are full of stuff that make perfect examples. pictures of reflections in windows, pictures of intersections while sitting in traffic, and just any thing. food of course. lots of pictures of food.

he wants to make slides of some the pictures and project them on a wall so okay.

for our joint project we will be doing scenes of downtown austin. i have taken many reference photos, and i have spent two days sitting down there on a bench doing sketches. now i am going to j's office- a friend of a friend who i have never met- and take pictures of the street looking down from a 13th floor window. so g wants me to ask him to let me in at night so i can get some night shots. i don't think i can ask this lawyer who i have never met to let me come back at night to take pictures. it's bad enough just doing what i'm doing now.

2004-02-29T08:03:00.000-08:00

yesturday went to child's birthday party at playland skating rink.
just like my own childhood. it smelled like cigarrettes and trailer park.
there was about fifteen child parties all going on at the same time and playland must have some sort of deal with mr. gatti's pizza because they all had boxes and boxes of pizza. they also sell mr gatti's pizza slices at the counter.

the whole place stinks and is run by teenagers. i got scolded by a high school girl for not having a stamp.

i got some skates and tried to skate. everyone laughed and warned me not to fall on my ass. i secretly knew that i used to own rollerblades and would skate all around downtown on sudays and late at night when i was younger. so i kept that a secret knowing they would all be impressed at how excellent a skater i proved to be. but no such luck. i seem to have forgotten. it isn't that much like riding a bike. admittedly i did have a three year old dragging me down the whole time and i was distracted by the eighties music.

after the party my wife accused me of being embarrassed of her. i said, "well you did do the limbo", and she said, "i did not! i did the hokey pokey." as if that is any better. and all the cool people at the party did it. i have my doubts.

i played mrs. pacman.

2004-02-26T15:10:00.000-08:00

painted most of the day. produced nothing worth a shit.

cable guy came and hooked up cable television and modem. thats good, but now i have to figure out how to change email and passwords and all those things that i forget. update links on web pages too, don't let me forget.

bought MONSOON, by Preston School of Industry. for no other reason than that i liked pavement, and hope i might like this. i have not really gotten into it that much so far.
bought some cd by Beth Orton. got it used and have so far gotten into it a little. actually really like track 3 and 6... and some of the others too. then heard track one, stolen car, on the radio- eclectikos- one day when john aile wasn't there and there was a sub dj playing non-opra music.

wish i could paint something that wasn't shit. but at least i have cable now.

2004-02-26T06:55:00.000-08:00

woke up ready to paint.
the house is messy, the cable guy is coming, and i want to do shit on the computer. every day gets wasted because of gettting distracted early on and not diving into work right away. my drive and ambition peaks out about a half hour after my first coffee. so i can't waste it on reading blogs and sending stupid ass emails. but i do anyway.

i want to paint a painting of a mc donalds. i know, i know. but really. subject matter doesn't matter after all so it's as good as any .

the daycare center wants 10 dollars because they were looking back throught the books and realized that each month i seem to pay a different amount. 420 or 425 every other month.
so over the last 4 months they have lost 10 dollars on our account.

2004-02-25T11:34:00.000-08:00

so the painting is going not that great, but it's been a hell of a lot worse. yesturday i got nothing done, today its going along slowly.
i keep stopping and doing shit like this- writing here, checking email, bullshit stufff. so if i could just stay in there and make myself then maybe i could find that flow.
i hate and also kind of like the one i'm on. i got so mad earlier i wanted to throw it out in the yard.
last week i actually did throw a painting out into the yard and left it there for a few hours as if it was in time out like the child. then eventually i went out and got it and put it on the back porch where it remains to this day.

2004-02-25T06:03:00.000-08:00

you know, i am aware that this isn't the best 'blog' template. it is confusing to see where each entry begins and ends and which comment link goes with. to bad. i didn't design it.

i have been very sensitive to critism lately, sometimes criticism that hasn't even been said out loud, just asslumed. by me.

i have been bothered by criticism of the design of this lunch site by two people, both of whom i have absolutely no respect. so i don't know why i would care what they think at all. my other artist freinds understand the site, it's purpose, and why it doesn't mattter one damn bit if it is designed well or not.

still, nice appearence would'nt hurt. one person said the sight was 'silly', so it is possible that he wasn't really talking about asthetic principles anyway, the bastard. besides he has a web sight with a picture of cock fighting on the index page so he has no room to talk anyway. and both are republicans, so screw them.

2004-02-25T05:54:00.000-08:00

last night we watched 'raising arizona' with the child. we thought she would just not pay attention and just go to sleep as usual. but not tonight. she watched with rapt attention. now, the next morning she woke up talking about it so much that i finally gave in and am letting her watch it as we speak.

she is particularly interested in the "muddy men" and their emergence from the tunnel in the rain. she insisted on watching that part, and in fact wanted to repeatedly watch that scene even last night. weird.

so i got that movie from netflix, and i am eager to send it back. i think my brother has a copy on dvd that i could borrow, and grandma has a copy on video. but video would be difficult to constantly find the particular part she wants to watch. is it even healthy to let her watch? i tried to tempt her with barney and elmo, but she will have none of it. she wants the muddy men, and said that when she grows up she wants to be a muddy man.

2004-02-24T13:37:00.000-08:00

went to the studio and took hudi. he puked on the floor and all the guys said it looked like a pasta dish you would get at vespaio. it did kind of. but i should maybe be worried about his health, it was a bunch of grass and possibly some blood.

i painted as long as i could stand it, but it sucks to work there now. it's messy and dirty and poorly lit. i would have to spend a whole day setting up to get anything done up there. i will just keep working here at home for awhile. at least until this next show has passed. i feel extremely stressed over it- and it's still two months away.

besides, everything is up in the air about the possible move. they are thinking about- and actually made an offer on- a new building. they want to buy a building instead of rent. all the artists are freaking out thinking they might up the rent.

2004-02-24T07:23:00.000-08:00

i wish i could figure out how to just use this nifty little publishing tool to publish to my own site, but it seems impossible at this time. i also wish i could figure out how to let people comment. that has to be possible. it is necessary.

2004-02-24T07:17:00.000-08:00

ok, i think this thing is working. i have worries, but they seem to be completely common. mostly:
what if real people discover and read this?

the onion article MOM FINDS MY BLOG, or whatever it is... sums it up nicely. and in fact, it is referenced in the actual help section of the blog server.

my mom, and friends, could actually find very disturbing information about my real opinions of them and other stuff by reading this blog.
but most people will discover that i am just boring.

2004-02-24T07:14:00.000-08:00

asdfafs
day one-
kjafs;djas;ldjkfasl;f, still not working......
computer illiterate

2004-02-24T07:06:00.000-08:00

day one-
kjafs;djas;ldjkfasl;f, still not working......
computer illiterate

2004-02-24T07:04:00.000-08:00

day one-
kjafs;djas;ldjkfasl;f, still not working......
computer illiterate

2004-02-24T07:02:00.000-08:00

day one-
kjafs;djas;ldjkfasl;f, still not working......
computer illiterate