Art wise...
Finishing up a larger painting and finished two other pieces. These will be my women nursing series. I love this series as it makes me feel hopeful when I work with these subjects.
Decided to finish up as many miniature ACEO's. This is taking longer than I thought and I feel a bit exhausted just sitting for a half hour. I feel a bit down, I guess. I think it's the darkness. Today was warmer and we went for a walk which was nice but I feel sort of wound tight...I really shouldn't listen to music that is sad. I found this artist called "Lijie". Sort of a Nora Jones/Sarah McLaughlin sound...not always a good thing if you're feeling the slightest bit blue.
I started to think about how a lot of people I've known have some sort of mental hang-up or other. Apparently, everyone has something. This is what I've learned after all these years. I've met a lot of people, and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT. And it seems to me, once we break down some of our defenses, open up or even let go of some of the polite nesses, there is always some funny thing that sets us off as unique and different and strange. Some people might say it's bad and horrible...sometimes they're right.
When I was about 13, my family rented a room to an elderly woman. Her name was Mary Znockers. She had Alzheimer’s and eventually moved back to Oklahoma to stay with her sister. She died a year later. At least that's what I remember. During her time with us, she would act in strange and bizarre ways...often somewhat humorous as well. I could never tell if the humorous was intentional being merely 13 but I admit to being very annoyed by her. Her room was right by mine and often I'd come home from school and find things missing. One time I found she had taken my medicated pimple pads and used them for her tissues. I was embarrassed, repulsed and very violated. She kept complaining they hurt her nose and I kept saying, "why'd you use them then?" I didn't really understand Alzheimer’s and was very impatient...I still am ashamed of this one thing I did out of revenge. She had this baby doll she carried around. It was my sister's but she adopted it. She also had this big jar of hard candy which she enjoyed eating and once it got to the bottom she began to accuse everyone of taking pieces of it. I told her it was her baby doll and picked it up and "walked" it to the jar. This freaked her out and she left the house and walked all over the neighborhood with me following, barefooted, trying to calm her down and bring her home. Finally, she came back and I felt horrible about this and told my mom she had left on her own. I felt so guilty about it...I guess I still do.
One of Mary's main interest was flushing the toilet and saying she was drowning as she watched the water swirl around and down. I always felt like this was somehow her way of communicating lost memories and how they were slipping from her. It was eerie to hear her say some things...talking about the dark, blackness and something about pain and everyone was gone. I know she had been in an accident when she was a young woman and I suppose this was strong in her mind. Poor dear.
I don't really know why Mary popped into my head...I don't know what she did before we met her, only that she was alone and needed aid. She could be very mean and physically violent and other times, gentle and act like a contented child. I wish there was a cure for Alzheimer’s, as well as many other diseases. It just seems so wrong to ignore such illnesses and just waste time/money/resources on stupid things like war.
Decided to finish up as many miniature ACEO's. This is taking longer than I thought and I feel a bit exhausted just sitting for a half hour. I feel a bit down, I guess. I think it's the darkness. Today was warmer and we went for a walk which was nice but I feel sort of wound tight...I really shouldn't listen to music that is sad. I found this artist called "Lijie". Sort of a Nora Jones/Sarah McLaughlin sound...not always a good thing if you're feeling the slightest bit blue.
I started to think about how a lot of people I've known have some sort of mental hang-up or other. Apparently, everyone has something. This is what I've learned after all these years. I've met a lot of people, and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT. And it seems to me, once we break down some of our defenses, open up or even let go of some of the polite nesses, there is always some funny thing that sets us off as unique and different and strange. Some people might say it's bad and horrible...sometimes they're right.
When I was about 13, my family rented a room to an elderly woman. Her name was Mary Znockers. She had Alzheimer’s and eventually moved back to Oklahoma to stay with her sister. She died a year later. At least that's what I remember. During her time with us, she would act in strange and bizarre ways...often somewhat humorous as well. I could never tell if the humorous was intentional being merely 13 but I admit to being very annoyed by her. Her room was right by mine and often I'd come home from school and find things missing. One time I found she had taken my medicated pimple pads and used them for her tissues. I was embarrassed, repulsed and very violated. She kept complaining they hurt her nose and I kept saying, "why'd you use them then?" I didn't really understand Alzheimer’s and was very impatient...I still am ashamed of this one thing I did out of revenge. She had this baby doll she carried around. It was my sister's but she adopted it. She also had this big jar of hard candy which she enjoyed eating and once it got to the bottom she began to accuse everyone of taking pieces of it. I told her it was her baby doll and picked it up and "walked" it to the jar. This freaked her out and she left the house and walked all over the neighborhood with me following, barefooted, trying to calm her down and bring her home. Finally, she came back and I felt horrible about this and told my mom she had left on her own. I felt so guilty about it...I guess I still do.
One of Mary's main interest was flushing the toilet and saying she was drowning as she watched the water swirl around and down. I always felt like this was somehow her way of communicating lost memories and how they were slipping from her. It was eerie to hear her say some things...talking about the dark, blackness and something about pain and everyone was gone. I know she had been in an accident when she was a young woman and I suppose this was strong in her mind. Poor dear.
I don't really know why Mary popped into my head...I don't know what she did before we met her, only that she was alone and needed aid. She could be very mean and physically violent and other times, gentle and act like a contented child. I wish there was a cure for Alzheimer’s, as well as many other diseases. It just seems so wrong to ignore such illnesses and just waste time/money/resources on stupid things like war.
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