Archives for category: art and the artist

I am sipping my first coffee. It’s quite late in the morning on a Sunday. Feels like a lazy day, but I’m in the studio, after a lovely walk on a misty morning. The marsh trail is closed for the season. The all-year trail is still open, and quite lovely. The trees are wearing Autumn colors, and the migrating flocks of birds entertained me with their murmurations as the dawn became day.

Walking Autumn trails.

My Traveling Partner is in his creative space, printing parts, re-assembling a 3D printer, and doing his thing. I’m in my studio, in a similarly creative mental space. This morning my head is filled with art and meaning, connections and inspiration. I am thinking about the past – and the future. I am listening to music that connects those elements of my life in an entertaining way; Cyberpunk. This Billy Idol album came out in 1993 – well-before I had a computer on my desk, myself. I had read my share of William Gibson, of course, but pc’s were not yet commonplace and “smartphone” wasn’t even a word yet. I had yet to form the future friendships that would come to rely on internet connectivity to sustain them over time. Listening to Cyberpunk now, it has a lot of peculiarly prescient elements that now seem almost mundane and just a little “so what?” I find that quite interesting. It remains one of my “forever favorite” albums. My favorite track? Probably Adam in Chains… I think back on “that time”, and find myself wondering how I didn’t “pick up on” the value of mindfulness and a serious meditation practice then…? How did it take me so long to get here? I remember listening to Adam in Chains with my headphones on, or alone at home with the stereo cranked up, stressed to a breaking point, drifting deeper into a meditative state following the flow of the music…finding temporary peace. It wasn’t a practice, just a moment.

…Listening now, it lifts me and lifts me, and I feel a wholeness and contentment and joy, although the lyrics and music are not of a happy place or time…

I could have come farther, faster, sooner if I had made the connection, perhaps… It’s a complicated journey. I took some detours and some dead-end paths. I’m not even sure I regret those, knowing what I know now; it’s been a life well-lived. There’s no knowing which small detail, changed, would change all the rest. Would I give up even one friendship formed later to have healed sooner? I don’t think that’s a choice I’d want to make. If finding mental health, wellness, and emotional stability would have come sooner, but at the cost of never making the acquaintance of my Traveling Partner…? Would I have chosen sanity over love? I don’t know that I would, given a chance to make an informed choice. Love is pretty splendid.

Art inspired by life, new work in progress waiting for attention.

I tinker while I sip coffee and write. I pause the music when my Traveling Partner pops in to show me newly printed parts from the new 3D printer – pretty amazing stuff, and I delight in both the quality of the results and his obvious satisfaction. I re-connect the Bluetooth antenna to my desktop computer in order to pair the Cricut; it’s a pain in the ass to balance my laptop on my knees in the studio, when I could be using my desktop computer for the design work so much more conveniently, and it’s been holding me back a bit. The beat pounds in my ears as I type. My coffee is still warm, and well-prepared. It’s a good day for art and play and love – I feel inspired.

It’s time to begin again.

It’s late in the afternoon, on a Sunday… one might even call it “early evening”. The light is beginning to fade after a sunny Autumn day. I’m home alone – a rare treat – and enjoying a few minutes with my feet up. I’d undertaken what seemed to be a pleasant afternoon of … “crafting”? I guess that’s a good word for it… I’ve got our Cricut moved into the studio to get started on holiday cards… once I learn the machine. My Traveling Partner had spent a couple days “tuning up” the 3D printer, and moments before he left for a thing he’s attending this evening, he tempted me to start a couple 3D prints “if I want to”. Let’s be clear; I don’t know 3D printing. I have barely mastered the basics of clicking the right buttons to start a print, how to keep an eye on the machine remotely, and how to gently remove a completed print and prepare the bed for the next one. So… my thoughts that I’d “make a couple cards”, finish the book I’m reading, and maybe watch a couple videos… yeah. Turned out those were some grand fucking plans even before the addition of a little 3D printing. LOL

…I slowed down, took things a thing at a time, and stayed patient with myself…

I spent some time trouble-shooting the blue tooth connection for the Cricut. This is a cool little cutting machine that is sometimes dismissed as a crafter’s tool, or something “easy”. I chuckled to myself at my own frustration; it’s too easy to assume something is easy because it’s small and cute and manageable-seeming. The Cricut Explore Air 2 sitting in my studio is a proper little CNC machine, just small, light-weight, and purpose-built for some craft-y things. It’s still a legit computer-controlled cutting machine. The software is still relatively complex, and there’s a learning curve. I am embracing the challenges, watching tutorials, trying things out. I’ve got a lot to learn.

Like a lot of things, it’s not as easy at it looks. lol

Similarly, the 3D printer is pretty amazing. I’m printing a selection of fun (flat) snowflakes that will become ornaments… maybe. LOL Here, too, there is a lot to learn before I can ever say I “know how to use the 3D printer”. So much to learn. The machine. The software.

It’s a snowflake. I needed the win. lol

…It’s tempting to oscillate between “fuck this” levels of frustration and foolish assumptions about how “easy” any this will be, with either of these machines… like it or not; there’s plenty to learn, and I am a long long way from “mastery”. I’m not even fighting it. I make mistakes, seek to understand where I went wrong, and go back to the tutorials. Distractions – even simple things like the laundry, or a delivery, or the other fucking machine, throw me off and it’s back to the beginning. Having a brain injury slows me down learning new things. I do my best to account for that. My original plan focused on just one of these machines; it would have been wise to stay on that path. LOL I planned wisely, and executed poorly.

…I got excited about new things and cool machines…

Still… I did get the Cricut connected (to my laptop). I am actually printing snowflakes on the 3D printer. I have made my first cuts with the Cricut (and promptly tossed those into the trashcan, because I definitely messed them up completely with commonplace dumb-ass-ery, and distractions) and tried a more successful piece of work using the Cricut to draw a complicated design onto card stock using fun gel pens, which satisfied me more than it probably should, since it is also … not quite right. lol

…And I’m almost done with the laundry…

It’s a good afternoon. Educational. Fun. Rewarding. Relaxing. Hilarious. None of my mistakes have done any damage or any harm, and the worst of them has resulted only in a bit of wasted craft material. The price I am paying for this “seminar” is being paid in wasted paper and well-spent time. lol I’m enjoying myself.

Now, it’s time for a cup of tea, and some quiet time letting what I’ve learned seep into my recollection for later. Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 😀

I’m sipping an iced cold brew coffee, and nibbling a breakfast sandwich from the local baker on a foggy Autumn morning. The sounds of the city seemed muffled as I crossed the park from my parked car to the office. The fog wraps the high-rise condos and office buildings in a peculiar disappearing act, and as they rise into the fog they disappear, with only a few lights still twinkling through the mist. The ice in my coffee clinks when I lift the cup and the coffee is bitter and icy, each sip simultaneously refreshing and just a bit perplexing; I am used to drinking hot coffee in the morning, and I have no idea why the change this morning (I just “went with it”). The sandwich is savory, well-made of fresh bread and warm, freshly scrambled eggs. The crunch of the toasted bread is a nice complement to the warmth and softness of the eggs. The hint of salty flavor from the olive tapenade used as a condiment delights me. It’s a very pleasant morning, and it lets me forget for awhile what a fucking trainwreck the world seems to be right now.

…Will humanity even survive itself?…

I smile quietly to myself, feeling incredibly grateful to have a Traveling Partner who understands enough of my trauma history to “get” why it’s a terrible idea for me to read the news (or get tempted into doomscrolling a news feed). He filters the news for me very considerately, finding reliable sources that are very factual and less inclined toward click-bait or emotional provocation, and does a lot to keep “war porn” away from my eyes (and consciousness). I don’t do well if I get mired in despair over faraway battlefields I can’t do anything about, but would still obsess over. I have looked directly into the eyes of War and I have seen too much, too clearly. I have ties to people and places that seem chronically in conflict. I just… can’t. I care too much, and have little influence or power to make real change. All I can do is raise my voice (and vote, with my ballot and my money) and do my own best not to be part of the problem. I send heartfelt kisses his way and hope that he is sleeping deeply and dreaming of wonderful things.

A murder of crows flies past the window and settles into the trees below. Autumn. The sky is beginning to lighten with the arrival of the new day, but it’s a gray and featureless sky this morning, and not very exciting. I still find myself inspired by the fog, the city lights, the towering high-rise condos reaching into the mist… the artist within looks over the analyst’s shoulders; I should paint this weekend. 🙂

I’ve started reading Lord of the Rings. I never have. I once started The Hobbit, but I struggled so much with the author’s writing style I just set it aside and never went back. I’m just a bit embarrassed by that, but… Proust is also waiting for my attention. I’ll get there. lol So far I’m well-into the first book of the trilogy, and enjoying it quite a lot. I smile a silent thank you to my partner again; his fondness for these books is certainly a large part of why I decided to give it another try.

…So… A misty Autumn morning and a new day unfolding ahead of me. Somehow it’s already time to begin again. 🙂

I’m tentatively sipping this fresh (quite hot) cup of coffee and endeavoring to avoid burning my mouth, while savoring the goodness of a still-hot cup of coffee on a Saturday morning. I’m still working on (with the help of my Traveling Partner) bringing my new laptop properly to life as the machine I understand so well (and which seems to understand me).

One careless misstep resulted in having to fight off the cancer that is OneDrive (omg, spare me, ffs) – I rather stupidly let that thing begin syncing my files, unaware that it was set to do so (no doubt through some earlier carelessness or lack of understanding)… wouldn’t have been such an issue if I were not also a user of DropBox for backing up my files, and had allowed that to have sync turned on and permitted to run in the background “for convenience” (omg, no no no no!!!)… the result? A crazy loop of OneDrive and DropBox seeking to back (each other) up continuously… and we’re talking about many tens of thousands of high resolution photographs, and multitudes of gigabytes of documents preserved over many decades (that through my own insecurity about “losing my memories”, had become multiple copies of copies of copied folders – in some cases also including .zip versions of those very same nested multiplicative folders and files). It was a fucking nightmare. In point of fact, an actual literal nightmare, because I dreamt through the night last night of having lost just the one and only precious file that actually mattered, because I did not realize it was stored as a single copy on fucking OneDrive – and had deleted all that content out of frustration without checking for that file. Omg. For real though?

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Okay. So. Frustrated raised voices and a few tears later, followed by careful slow conversation on the level one would have with a fairly stupid child (thanks, though, Love, I get it now)… and I think we’ve got this shit sorted out… only…

…new laptop. There may be a hardware issue; the monitor was flickering (unacceptable). I think my Traveling Partner resolved that with skilled troubleshooting in the display settings. G’damn I appreciate the depth of his expertise on this crap – I have not kept up my technical knowledge, as so often happens with “use it or lose it” sorts of things, and I’m clearly very far behind the state-of-the-art OS-wise! I could have seriously borked my new laptop if I had proceeded to simply delete a bunch of (to me) suspicious looking OS files. LOL (“Okay, Boomer…”)

Breathe through it; it’ll be okay.

Yeah. She’s here. She “lives and breathes” – as much as she can as a machine. I know, I know; she’s not actually conscious, sentient, or a living being. I just rely on this tool to the point that “she” feels personal and real to me on a level beyond machinery… like a motorhead with a favorite car. I’m okay with that.

(Note: AI is not yet a thing, y’all, just stop. We’ve got some fancy machine learning tools, but those tools are not “AI”; they do not think and can not reason or understand the material they ingest or the content they spit out. Not yet, so just fucking stop sucking down the marketing hype.)

So… definitely needed this 2nd coffee, and I’m trying to enjoy it before it goes cold. 😀

…Because it’s already time to begin again, and I’ve got shit to do in both the real and virtual worlds. Life is short, and time passes all too quickly. 😀

I’m mostly over my recent bout of whatever miserable illness struck me (and my Traveling Partner, and step-son). I’ve got a lingering cough, which frankly is no surprise to me – it’s nearly always the outcome of any sort of respiratory illness for me. It’s a byproduct of damage incurred from a combination of childhood illness and military injuring (those oil fires did me no good). It’ll pass, just takes me a bit longer than it otherwise might.

The new job starts tomorrow. Exciting. There’s ongoing forward momentum with my Traveling Partner’s business, too. It feels wonderful to support that, and even to help. Today I took next steps getting an Etsy page set up (almost done with that…). One thing at a time. Like any journey, it’s about next steps and incremental progress over time. I think about other details that I can add to the new page… a friendly shop-video walking future customer’s through our shop, and sharing our thoughts about how we make products, and what inspires us, maybe? Additional listings. Things like that – basic stuff.

…A lot of life’s richness and complexity is built on very basic stuff. That seems worth thinking about…

I sit in the studio, with the fragrances of scented shower fizzies filling the room. I am reminded that there are a couple more scents I meant to make batches of this weekend… cucumber-melon, lavender (a favorite), and something that smells like a rainy autumn walk. So many luscious scents to delight me in the shower – I want to make them all! The new batches of chocolate-orange and meadow flowers are lovely. (I find myself wondering if it’s too soon to take another shower, already…?)

In spite of the lingering hints that I’ve been ill recently, I’m enjoying the weekend with my Traveling Partner. Some video gaming. Some video watching. Some cooking. Some laundry. Some crafting and making. Nothing fancy – all of it’s been very “basic” quiet living sort of stuff… but… isn’t that what life is built upon? The small delights? The everyday pleasures? The time and care taken on things that are utterly routine? Life’s lasting adventure is built on small steps forward, not so much the grand gestures or big moments – those are rare, which is fitting for the way they hit our consciousness so much harder in spite of how fleeting they truly are. I find so much value in being present in the small moments and the basic stuff. I savor this one, with my now-cold coffee long-forgotten on the edge of my desk, just one sweet pleasant moment of so many… it’s too easy to overlook how many lovely moments there really are, if I am constantly rushing from one “big deal” to another, without pausing for breath.

…I pause for breath…

Life isn’t “perfect” (see the opening paragraph; I’m still not 100% over being sick, for starters, and on top of that I was born a human primate, so… there’s that). It’s not bad though. Hell, it’s better than bad… it’s good. I sit here smiling quietly. This is enough. More than enough. This is pretty fucking sweet, generally speaking, and I’m contented and sometimes even actually “happy”. That’s a very subjective condition, and it stymies me how similar circumstances are across the entirety of my life – there were a lot of moments in which I could have been far happier than I actually was, but… I wasn’t. At this point, I think that was (in many cases) as much because I just didn’t know how to be that thing we call “happy”, every bit as much as it had anything to do with the specifics of my life in that moment. Kind of a lot, actually. How peculiar. I can’t go back in time and “fix that”… but… you know what I can do? Revisit some of those moments through my recollections, and enjoy that moment then from my perspective of now. I don’t mean to suggest that I’m griefing myself over how I felt at that time – no good would come of that. I’m just taking time to recall something pleasant, doing so in great detail, and also letting go of any lingering baggage that may have become attached to that time, place, or relationship, and just… enjoying what I can about that time, then. It tends to reduce the lasting misery of miserable times, by undercutting the memory of the misery, and giving a wee boost to the memories of joy, however brief, fleeting, or impotent they seemed then. Worthwhile.

I pause again, this time to cough. It’s time to begin again. Some hot tea, perhaps…?