Geez, it's hot in here today. I guess it's no surprise. I looked up the temps a little while ago and it was 86, with a heat index of 96. Phew!
Today was spent in one of my favorite ways - building supports for the birch boards. The gallery owner gave me an idea based on the Revenge painting and said I could have a week or so to do more paintings before the show became too hard to rearrange, so...
I came home yesterday and did my research on tomato pests. Today, I made the supports and got them gessoed. I thought about working on the painting on the easel while the glue dried and I had used all my clamps (I really need to replace some and add to the collection. Like brushes, one can never have enough clamps.) but it took much effort than I was willing to put in after several hours of measuring and sawing to switch back and forth between 'building' brain and 'painting' brain.
Someone told me yesterday that she hadn't painted in fifteen years but has been getting the calling to pick up the brushes again and it's scary. We agreed that on one hand, it could be a freeing thing - she doesn't have all that academic stuff in her head and she can just play. Then she said an interesting thing: "Well, plus I finally realized I'm not going to make some Big Art. I think we all through that at some point."
It's true. There used to be that little voice at the back of my head. It said that the art had to be Good - a Masterpiece - that could hold up against Masters of Art: Dali, Miro, Warhol...of course, I would do it all my own way too.
I wonder why we think that? Is it more than just artists that go through this? Is it just one of those engrained childhood things? I mean, don't most parents say their kid is going to do Big Things? "My kid's going to be a Doctor! A Lawyer! The PRESIDENT!" I know it's a good thing meat to be positive thoughts for the future but I just wonder. Maybe I'm just warped.
One thing to remember is that Van Gogh sold just one painting during his lifetime. It also strikes me as a lot of trouble to have so much attention on your work. I read somewhere about an artist (I can't remember his name) who got so popular that the business side of things took up so much of his time that he had two hours a week in which to paint.
I have ideas of how I want my art career to go from here, plus I have a standing invite for the gallery as well (that will and can be a post all in itself.) I may as well get off my ass and do it. It's not going to make itself.
Showing posts with label I spend way too much time thinking about some things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I spend way too much time thinking about some things. Show all posts
Monday, July 27, 2015
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
30 Days (or so) meme: Why I am Pagan
Well, I figured it's high time I joined in the 30 Days meme. That's me - join in after everyone else had done it and moved on. Plus, it's hard for me to talk about my beliefs. Faith is such a personal, private thing.
So...I've got the headphones on and Voltaire's singing Oh Lord. Let's rock this thing, shall we?
Day 1 - Why Paganism?
Short answer? It's one of the few faiths I explored that allowed me to be myself. It also allows for the mystery of the world to be real, without excusing it as simply being an illusion.
When I was a kid, we went a nearby Cumberland Presbyterian church. Except for my grandmother, we weren't a very religious bunch. Church was just Something You Did. I remember Sunday School could be interesting - the older kids would start talking to the teacher about the latest horror movies they've seen or something they did during the week. Surely, we worked through the lessons but I don't remember them.
I do remember some of the mystery of the church. I remember at Easter when the "juice and crackers" were passed around. The preacher would talk about how they were the body and blood of Jesus but whenever I saw them, they'd change back into crackers and grape juice. I also remember constantly looking up at the sky because I had been told "God is watching you!" It was like always being under the gaze of a third parent was way more stern than my mom or dad. He'd send me away forever just because he didn't like something I did.
When I hear about seeing the world as a child would, this is what I think about. Never did catch a glimpse of that guy that was always watching, either.
I started questioning things when I was about twelve. My parents had divorced two years before and my dad was going to a Southern Baptist church. I did. Not. Like. It. AT ALL. There was no mystery. No wonder. Just a bunch of people who came to See and Be Seen. Oh yeah, there was some guy standing up front talking about how we were all wrong too.
This was also about the time I began walking the woods behind our house after school. I couldn't wait to get home every day because I had a good three hours before my got home from work and I could go looking for a mystery. I would have at least one cat journeying with me, usually more. The trees were my friends. I once followed the path of a turkey vulture flying overhead and found a spot I had never visited that was very sacred and magical. The pawpaw tree growing through a pile of rocks was a faery mound. Where did the water in the spring come from and were there caves in the bluffs at the top of the hill? Where would they go if I found them? What lived in the woods besides the cows and deer? (I longed to catch a glimpse of Bigfoot but hoped I wouldn't too.) The world was alive and full of joy.
This is why I'm Pagan. Now, not only the world but the universe is alive and full of joy. The sky is full of bright, distant stars but it is part of the body of Her as well. The sun is not simply a flaming ball of gas but it is also Ra on His Barque, protected by Set and Khnum as it travels through the Underworld at the end of the day. At the same time, I sit vigil every Yule so the Sun will rise.
Someone has to. If the world forgets its stories, it forgets its reasons for being alive. Life just becomes drudgery, a ceaseless routine of colorless chores. I don't want that to happen on my watch, mister.
So...I've got the headphones on and Voltaire's singing Oh Lord. Let's rock this thing, shall we?
Day 1 - Why Paganism?
Short answer? It's one of the few faiths I explored that allowed me to be myself. It also allows for the mystery of the world to be real, without excusing it as simply being an illusion.
When I was a kid, we went a nearby Cumberland Presbyterian church. Except for my grandmother, we weren't a very religious bunch. Church was just Something You Did. I remember Sunday School could be interesting - the older kids would start talking to the teacher about the latest horror movies they've seen or something they did during the week. Surely, we worked through the lessons but I don't remember them.
I do remember some of the mystery of the church. I remember at Easter when the "juice and crackers" were passed around. The preacher would talk about how they were the body and blood of Jesus but whenever I saw them, they'd change back into crackers and grape juice. I also remember constantly looking up at the sky because I had been told "God is watching you!" It was like always being under the gaze of a third parent was way more stern than my mom or dad. He'd send me away forever just because he didn't like something I did.
When I hear about seeing the world as a child would, this is what I think about. Never did catch a glimpse of that guy that was always watching, either.
I started questioning things when I was about twelve. My parents had divorced two years before and my dad was going to a Southern Baptist church. I did. Not. Like. It. AT ALL. There was no mystery. No wonder. Just a bunch of people who came to See and Be Seen. Oh yeah, there was some guy standing up front talking about how we were all wrong too.
This was also about the time I began walking the woods behind our house after school. I couldn't wait to get home every day because I had a good three hours before my got home from work and I could go looking for a mystery. I would have at least one cat journeying with me, usually more. The trees were my friends. I once followed the path of a turkey vulture flying overhead and found a spot I had never visited that was very sacred and magical. The pawpaw tree growing through a pile of rocks was a faery mound. Where did the water in the spring come from and were there caves in the bluffs at the top of the hill? Where would they go if I found them? What lived in the woods besides the cows and deer? (I longed to catch a glimpse of Bigfoot but hoped I wouldn't too.) The world was alive and full of joy.
This is why I'm Pagan. Now, not only the world but the universe is alive and full of joy. The sky is full of bright, distant stars but it is part of the body of Her as well. The sun is not simply a flaming ball of gas but it is also Ra on His Barque, protected by Set and Khnum as it travels through the Underworld at the end of the day. At the same time, I sit vigil every Yule so the Sun will rise.
Someone has to. If the world forgets its stories, it forgets its reasons for being alive. Life just becomes drudgery, a ceaseless routine of colorless chores. I don't want that to happen on my watch, mister.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Musing on the season finale of Supernatural
I don't talk too much about fannish things but this time...I can't help it. I should say there's spoilers ahead if you hadn't seen the season finale of Supernatural. There are a only a few things I'm going to comment on because I've only seen it the one time so far and there may be some things I get wrong. Feel free to correct me, if you are inclined.
First of all, the biggie - Chuck.
I don't think he was God. At least, not always. Until the finale, Chuck was a very unconfident person. He hated what he saw in his visions. He hated - and had plenty of troubles with - the process of writing it all down. He drank to forget, more often than not. Let's not forget how he was at the convention at the haunted hotel.
The Chuck we saw in the finale was none of this. He didn't even seem to be merely recording what he was seeing and there were no blinding headaches (if I remember correctly, this was a problem when we first met him last season.) He had no problem whatsoever writing the story. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying telling the story of the Impala and how it was intertwined with the Winchester brothers - and he was very confident in telling it. There was that one spot in the story where he even commented on how he liked how a certain line sounded.
The story itself was different in tone to previous ones. There was no pulp here. Just a story, lovingly told.
This Chuck was also drinking but he only sipped his alcohol - and did it quite properly, at that. There only seemed to be two fingers' worth in that glass. (On a side note, when Dean calls Chuck for information, was the call girl in the magazine named "Mary Magdalene"?)
So - was Chuck God? Like I said, I don't think he always was. Chuck was the Prophet and he did his job, however hard it was and miserable it made him. I think God stepped at the end. It was an act of compassion (mercy, even?) and reward for a thankless job well done. It also afforded God a way to intercede, using the Impala to spark Sam's memories of happier times and the love between the him and Dean. Besides, what was it He said? Endings were tough to get down.
On a side note: I don't think God was as heartless as it seemed when we found out He wouldn't be helping defeat Lucifer. We've known a long while that the last battle was supposed to be between Michael and Lucifer, both being angels created by God. We never expect a parent to choose between two of their children - so why is God expected to choose one of His over the other, even if one of those children has rebelled? So it's no wonder He didn't want to take sides.
Castiel
I wasn't surprised that Castiel got his Grace back. In fact, after last week's episode, I would have been surprised if he didn't. He may have fallen and eventually lost his mojo but he kept his faith. It wasn't his faith in God, but rather it was a faith that he, Sam, Dean and later, Bobby would somehow get through this.
I call it faith because that is what it is. Way back in the episode where Uriel wanted to wipe that town off the map, Castiel tells Dean his orders were to do whatever Dean ordered. He may have started out only following and protecting Dean but somewhere along the line, Dean did as Dean does and took him under his wing. Castiel became family. Faith in God is good and all but when it comes down to brass tacks, is there anything stronger on this earth than family bonds? After all, who else will stand by you or give you a good, hard and swift kick in the assbutt when you need it?
I think this is exactly what Cas took back with him when he went back to heaven. He says he's not sure if God will ever show up again but he figures with Michael gone, the place may be in chaos. He's gone home to sort out his "other" family, maybe even using what he's learned from his time with the Winchesters.
Bobby
So, has the contract between Bobby and Crowley been fulfilled? We never heard the details of the deal, did we? Crowley only said he would "borrow" Bobby's soul for a little while (and it seems to me that he knew a lot more than he let on in the previous episode, didn't it? Especially since he said to Dean, "How about we go for pizza when this is all over?" as they searched fruitlessly for Death.)
Anyway...I think the contract has been fulfilled. In past deals, the one making the deal always got a set number of years before they died and went to hell. As vague as Crowley's deal was, Bobby did die if only for a little while before Castiel brought him back.
Sam
I'm not sure what to make of Sam at the end. Was he a ghost, watching over Dean as he had dinner with Lisa and Ben? It would certainly be one possibility, since ghosts are able to mess with electrical systems. He wouldn't be needed in Hell since Lucifer had been re-caged and it wouldn't be impossible for him to get out, especially with a little help, like say from oh, God?
I don't know. It's going to kill me waiting to find out. :-)
First of all, the biggie - Chuck.
I don't think he was God. At least, not always. Until the finale, Chuck was a very unconfident person. He hated what he saw in his visions. He hated - and had plenty of troubles with - the process of writing it all down. He drank to forget, more often than not. Let's not forget how he was at the convention at the haunted hotel.
The Chuck we saw in the finale was none of this. He didn't even seem to be merely recording what he was seeing and there were no blinding headaches (if I remember correctly, this was a problem when we first met him last season.) He had no problem whatsoever writing the story. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying telling the story of the Impala and how it was intertwined with the Winchester brothers - and he was very confident in telling it. There was that one spot in the story where he even commented on how he liked how a certain line sounded.
The story itself was different in tone to previous ones. There was no pulp here. Just a story, lovingly told.
This Chuck was also drinking but he only sipped his alcohol - and did it quite properly, at that. There only seemed to be two fingers' worth in that glass. (On a side note, when Dean calls Chuck for information, was the call girl in the magazine named "Mary Magdalene"?)
So - was Chuck God? Like I said, I don't think he always was. Chuck was the Prophet and he did his job, however hard it was and miserable it made him. I think God stepped at the end. It was an act of compassion (mercy, even?) and reward for a thankless job well done. It also afforded God a way to intercede, using the Impala to spark Sam's memories of happier times and the love between the him and Dean. Besides, what was it He said? Endings were tough to get down.
On a side note: I don't think God was as heartless as it seemed when we found out He wouldn't be helping defeat Lucifer. We've known a long while that the last battle was supposed to be between Michael and Lucifer, both being angels created by God. We never expect a parent to choose between two of their children - so why is God expected to choose one of His over the other, even if one of those children has rebelled? So it's no wonder He didn't want to take sides.
Castiel
I wasn't surprised that Castiel got his Grace back. In fact, after last week's episode, I would have been surprised if he didn't. He may have fallen and eventually lost his mojo but he kept his faith. It wasn't his faith in God, but rather it was a faith that he, Sam, Dean and later, Bobby would somehow get through this.
I call it faith because that is what it is. Way back in the episode where Uriel wanted to wipe that town off the map, Castiel tells Dean his orders were to do whatever Dean ordered. He may have started out only following and protecting Dean but somewhere along the line, Dean did as Dean does and took him under his wing. Castiel became family. Faith in God is good and all but when it comes down to brass tacks, is there anything stronger on this earth than family bonds? After all, who else will stand by you or give you a good, hard and swift kick in the assbutt when you need it?
I think this is exactly what Cas took back with him when he went back to heaven. He says he's not sure if God will ever show up again but he figures with Michael gone, the place may be in chaos. He's gone home to sort out his "other" family, maybe even using what he's learned from his time with the Winchesters.
Bobby
So, has the contract between Bobby and Crowley been fulfilled? We never heard the details of the deal, did we? Crowley only said he would "borrow" Bobby's soul for a little while (and it seems to me that he knew a lot more than he let on in the previous episode, didn't it? Especially since he said to Dean, "How about we go for pizza when this is all over?" as they searched fruitlessly for Death.)
Anyway...I think the contract has been fulfilled. In past deals, the one making the deal always got a set number of years before they died and went to hell. As vague as Crowley's deal was, Bobby did die if only for a little while before Castiel brought him back.
Sam
I'm not sure what to make of Sam at the end. Was he a ghost, watching over Dean as he had dinner with Lisa and Ben? It would certainly be one possibility, since ghosts are able to mess with electrical systems. He wouldn't be needed in Hell since Lucifer had been re-caged and it wouldn't be impossible for him to get out, especially with a little help, like say from oh, God?
I don't know. It's going to kill me waiting to find out. :-)
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