What to do, what to say?

Geez-o-freakin' Pete, I got quite the tongue lashing from Robbie (Roderick Robinson) in the comment section of my last post. He's an irascible codger with a mind too big for his noggin. I say that with affection, by the way. I must admit I "almost" enjoy when he challenges me. It makes me think. One really must think. Otherwise, well, just look around you at the stupidity that often passes for reality.

In the post he responded to, I made the claim I didn't have anything to say. He took issue with that. Okay, okay, I suppose I should have told the truth when I wrote my previous post. "I don't feel like writing, thinking, or doing anything productive." But then I would have been admitting my current inertia. I've been undergoing a period of stasis. It's like a false awakening, except I'm actually awake. 

I hear my sainted mother in my head, asking "Are you bragging or complaining?"  Definitely complaining. 

I suppose the only way out of this stoppage is to start.

My grandson, N, took this picture.  

flower painting June 2021 1

I seem to have fixed my computer issues. I don't know why they started, but luckily that's in the past. I don't have anything to say today, but I feel like I should post so you all don't think I've been hacked. Anyway, here's my most recent watercolor. I'm starting with the picture I used, and the rough drawing I did from it. Then, finally, a painting. I'm happy with it. I feel like I'm learning and progressing a bit. That's a good feeling.

No need to comment. It's just nice to have some people I can show these to!

Too far?

Oh gee.  Sometimes I go too far.  I have referred to myself as a puppy type of person before: jumping, biting, yapping, and playing.  Or maybe a kitten going on a rip (a cat zoomie).  Watch out for flying claws.  But I'm filled with love and concern for so many people. Probably too much.  I wear myself out with love.  When I crash I'm filled with anxiety. I need to take a nap.  I need more toys.  

This photo comes from https://www.whycatwhy.com/why-do-cats-go-crazy-at-night/

That baby, that baby!

We had visitors last weekend! Tom's daughter, R, her daughter (our granddaughter) S, and our great-granddaughter C. She is 18 months old. The last time we saw her she was 6 weeks old, an infant, a passive babe in arms.  

What a difference! Now she is a joyful, spunky, interactive force of nature. I am amazed at how well she communicates. I swear she understands everything that is said to her. Her love of learning new things is palpable, and she seems interested in everything.  

She was a little afraid of Great Grandpa Tom, though. He has a white beard, mustache, and somewhat raspy voice.  She kept an eye on him, that's for sure. When he spoke to her, she would furrow her brow and scrutinize him closely. Sometimes she refused to eat her dinner if he sat too close to her. He had to leave the room so she would finish eating. So funny. However, by the last day she was willing to crack a smile for him. I could tell that small victory made him happy. These things take time.  

And we had the BEST time.  

Stuff

I have not been able to bring myself to paint that car.  I'm not sure I will.  We'll see.  In the meantime, here is a flower I painted recently.  

And here are some photos I took on this morning's walk.  

Drawing Cars 2

As much as I enjoy looking at cars, drawing them and coming up with a reasonable drawing to paint has been hard. In fact, I feel like a drafts(wo)man rather than an artist. I have new respect for car designers.  

I have finally finished a drawing (one of many) that I felt I could live with. After working, and reworking it I inked the outline and then used my light box to lightly trace the inked drawing on to watercolor paper. I thought there was no way I was going to try and draw it again.  

My first drawing has resulted in a car with a "droop snoot." Compare the photo I drew it from (on top) with the drawing underneath. The nose pulling pulling down. The tail fins aren't long enough. Obviously I will have to do draw it again. Sheesh. I WILL finish this. I'm almost sure of it.   But, this isn't nearly as much fun as drawing flowers.  

Drawing Cars, Really?

The watercolor class is long over, and I am struggling to keep drawing and painting. 

It's harder for me to draw now than when I was in my 20s. I do okay, but it has been a LONG time since drawing was a regular part of my routine! I'm less spontaneous, and feel like a draftswoman as I measure and erase. I assume I'll relax and regain confidence over time. I'll learn to interpret shapes rather than render them exact. That's when the real art will begin. For now, I'm simply developing skills. I've been here before, although it seems like that was in a different life. Getting back on a bicycle after 40 odd years was a whole lot easier.

I was looking at a FB group page featuring photos of cars from the 1940's and 1950's.  I can't stop looking at these cars. I'm in love with Chevy Bel Airs. I am definitely going to draw a certain 1956 Studebaker Golden Hawk. And I have a picture of a 1957 DeSoto Adventurer Convertible that knocks my socks off.  For me, that decade was the aesthetic heyday of car design.  

I'm going to draw a couple of these beauties and maybe learn a few things in the process. I've already learned the difference between 1955, 1956, and 1957 Chevy Bel Air's. I really never saw this new interest coming. I'm NOT a car person.  

Here's the photo of the DeSoto.  Ain't she a beaut?

Company

Having visitors used to a big part of living in Florida. Sadly, the last time we had visitors was February 2020.

Until last week. A friend and his partner had been checking up on her mother in Tampa. They were driving back North, and stopped for brunch on the way. We were all vaccinated. Each of us has been quarantined, isolated, and bubble wrapped all this time. We decided to give it a shot.

What fun to chat live with people outside our small Florida family for a change. We cleaned the house! I even cut fresh flowers for the table. Oh yes, I thought. I remember this. Civilization!

After my last post insisting I was a deprived extravert, I found myself struggling with "chit chat" when confronted with friendly, talkative people. I have been living in my own mind for too long, I found it hard to pay attention to what others were saying. I couldn't find the creative well that allows me to banter and jest. Witty repartee? Not when you are no longer quick witted. It will come back, but it may take some practice.  

Both Tom and I had to take a nap afterwards.  

I am surprised how much has gone by the boards this past year.

What about me? What about you?

I write this blog to answer questions no one asks me. My post-retirement life is filled with introverts. Believe me, they are NOT asking me questions.  

Still, for some reason I'm drawn to introverts. They are beautifully self-contained, have clear boundaries, and are super damn interesting. Yes, I've written about this before, but I want to revisit this subject. I have more to say. 

Introverts know I would gleefully upset the applecart. I would. And I'm not a linear thinker. I jump around. Naturally, introverts are wary around me. More to the point, they don't trust me. Most of the time that's okay. I have enough trust for all of us. But sometimes, I get lonely.

In my wide-ranging birth family extraverts dominate, although we have a few introverts. When we get together, which is increasingly rare, there is non-stop laughter and teasing. Personal questions are asked! The introverts gravitate towards the other room to recharge their emotional batteries, or position themselves in places where they are far enough away to watch us at a safe distance. Us extraverts sit together in the kitchen, savoring the chaos and each other. 

I wonder if the introverts in my birth family feel lonely, misunderstood, and/or judged amidst our chaos? Because that's how I can sometimes feel amidst their order. It's confusing. How do we accommodate such different world views and personality types? How do we make everyone feel like they belong and are respected? I'm asking you this question.  

Not to change the subject (!). I could use a good laugh. I want a long, loud belly laugh from that measureless soul place, unfathomably bold and deep. I'd like to laugh so hard the terror of existence is scared away. Runs like Hell. Hides in the corner, cowering with fear. Let's consider laughter as an existential weapon. Gimme some a' that!

Damn this pandemic.  

It's just a shot away.

I was living in San Francisco in 1970, and listened to this song over and over. I always loved the Stones, but Merry Clayton! Dear God, what a voice. Her voice made the song transcendent. In a recent NYTimes interview she recalls that studio session and singing that song. “At first, I told them ‘I’m not trying to do no ‘rape’ and no ‘murder,’” Clayton said, quoting from the song’s famous refrain. “Then it hit me that we’re talking about Vietnam and racism and police killing people. It’s just a shot away. I felt like I was screaming out from my ancestors to give us shelter from this world.”