I'm blogstipated

I don't post often enough so when I finally sit down to write, there's so much to say it gets too long and I forget some of what I wanted to say. And other problems, but I forgot them just now.

Last week Twitch was transferred back to the Greenwood store (Arby's) so we no longer have to make that long drive to Simpsonville. What a relief! I actually like the drive sometimes, but not when it's so hot, and not four times a day. So now I'm glad he didn't get an apartment there.

Diva is a hot mess, as usual. She got this internship thing at a hair salon, then never went. She's being her old crazy self again, and not being nice to me very often. I don't want to talk about it.

Let's see... Sproing. He's an ass. Hangs around the house most of the day with his friends, playing video games and talking shit. He tells me he has a lead on one job or another nearly every day, but nothing ever becomes of it. Yes, he's taking advantage of me. Again. Still.

Light's birthday is Friday. She'll be 26. She's been in my dreams recently, but as a small child. Sometimes she's under 2 years old, sometimes she's pre-teen. Sometimes my other children are in the dreams too. She was such a lovely child. I miss that.

Superman and I were in Target yesterday and saw some cute dresses for little girls. I like the idea of sweet little girls, ages approximately 3-7, but the reality can be gritty. I know from experience. Maybe I'm ready for grandparenthood. Thing is, none of my children is ready for parenthood, so let's just skip it for now.

Here's the segue to the next topic:

Sproing hangs out in the living room most of the day. Whenever I go through there I get a pang of melancholy or something in the middle of my chest. Melancholy doesn't really begin to describe it. It's sadder and more anxious than my concept of melancholy. Whatever, it isn't pretty. This ball of burning lead in my chest saps my motivation right out of me.

I've said before that I am a hoarder. I want to clear out a lot of this junk in my life, but there is a strong emotional component to this mess. I'm a mess. For months I've been staring at these shelves in my bedroom. Just those two over there, not that big bookshelf on that side of the room. No, not that one up there either. Let's for a moment ignore the one(s) behind me. Just these two little (OK, not so little) shelves on top of my two drawer filing cabinet. (Now I want to create a diversion by telling you how wonderful my filing cabinet is, but that's just an unhealthy coping strategy, so let's not go there.) So this morning, feeling like accomplishing something, I started on the first cubby. (The unit has four cubbies, two small and two large. And the top of the shelf. And all that crap in front of it.) I got everything except the really big unabridged dictionary cleaned out! I even threw some of it away! Go me! But OMG I'm now approaching a nervous anxiety attack. Walking through the living room made it worse. I'm hydrating, and I had a V-8, hoping vegetables will help my body deal. I can write coherent sentences (I think) so it could be worse. It could also be a lot better.

Papers from my college art classes were in that cubby. Some sketch books, some notes and communications from the class. I took those classes only about five years ago. It seems like a long time now. There was a note from my professor encouraging me to continue my art education because he sees a lot of promise/potential. All the gods have mercy upon me!! I want to! So much! I remember I cried when I first got that note from him, and I cried again when I read it today. I'm currently helpless, (well, probably not completely) hopelessly entangled in the trappings of my life, unable to exercise my creativity.

Actually, one of the things I want to do today is sew. I have a new dress completely cut out and ready to sew together. I've started sewing a shirt and want to get back to it. But do you know how close my sewing room/office is to the living room where the "chaps" are hanging? I can't go there. Gads, I feel so helpless and weak and stupid.

In other, lighter news, I broke a tooth over the weekend. For those of you keeping score at home, it's the bottom right, third tooth from the end. I have no wisdom teeth anymore, so don't count that. A piece of the tooth sheared off the side between the teeth. It's stuck between the teeth now, and shifts around when I chew on that side. Feels really strange. I broke it while eating cornbread. Soft, fluffy, oh so good cornbread. Or at least that's when I noticed it. I was also eating soup. Soup with nothing hard in it. I have no idea how it broke. I suspect there's a filling in that tooth and it popped off beside the filling. Thankfully it doesn't hurt. I have an appointment with my dentist tomorrow midday.

This is about all I have the emotional energy to write right now. Have a good July.

One of these days I'll write something happy

Next weekend is the second annual Bloggerpalooza. I'll be there. We had a grand time last year, and I am looking forward to meeting old friends and new. Unfortunately Superman will not be with me. Remember all the crap that Diva has done recently? We can't leave her with Twitch. He's not able to deal with her, and she would take advantage of him so fast. Both Superman and I are super pissed off about this.

We had such a good time last year getting away together. It's the first time in ... no, it was the second time in a very very long time that Superman and I were able to get away together, just the two of us. The first time was the summer before, 2012, when I wrecked the little Aveo in West Virginia. He drove up to bring me home and we spent one night there in Lewisburg, WV together. We had a wonderful time, even though I'd wrecked the car. I think we hadn't been away together just the two of us since before we adopted Sproing back in 1998. How fucked up is that? Then last March we spent a fantastic four days together, then my Daddy died (the Monday after the Bloggerpalooza weekend) and we went together to Gainesville, FL to be with the family and deal with that shit. Technically that was time away together, but because it piggy-backed the Bloggerpalooza and was because of my Daddy's death, it doesn't count. I mean, really. This past year has been hell thanks primarily to Sproing and Diva, and we could use some time together.

On the positive side, I'll be able to see Light. I'm leaving early Monday to go to Pennsylvania to spend a couple of days with Light and see her art show. I'll drive to Delaware on Thursday for the festivities there.

Let's talk about music. I'm not a huge music fan like lots of people I know. I like a variety of genres. I'm particularly fond of classical music, most kinds. Some of the avant garde dissonant stuff doesn't do it for me, but otherwise I like classical music. There are some country songs/artists I like (Kenny Chesney comes immediately to mind). I like soft jazz, piano jazz, but in general jazz isn't one of my favorite genres. It's hit or miss with contemporary pop songs. I like a lot of pop and rock from the 60s and 70s when I was growing up. There are very few hip-hop or rap songs I like, but there are some. My CD collection includes a random handful of classical stuff, my most recent favorite being the complete collection of Beethoven symphonies. When I was in my country music phase I collected a bunch of CDs. Some of them I still like, some I don't. I should get rid of some of that stuff I don't really like.

The majority of my CD collection, however, is oldies. Stuff I grew up loving. The CDs of vinyl albums we had when I was a kid. When they package those CDs they include my baggage. If I hear the song on the radio, I think "I remember that song! I loved that song." In a fit of reminiscence I buy the CD. Then I play it and all the baggage comes falling out and I can't listen to the songs without wallowing. I should get rid of those, too, I suppose. I've decided that I need to get some new stuff that I like. One recent acquisition is Jason Mraz. I really like most of his stuff. He's got a positive energy I find helpful. I've also recently become enamored of Peter Bradley Adams. This is the song that caught my attention. Think I'll get one of his CDs.

He's lyrical and melodic, has good harmonies and simple instrumentals. I hear some James Taylor influences. James Taylor is one of my old time favorites that I can listen to without pain. Oh, I also recently got a Jackson Browne CD (Late for the Sky) that I'm getting to know. Most of the songs on that album are new or not very familiar to me.

Enough of that. Now I'm figuring out my route from here to PA, then to Lewes, DE, and back home. I need to break up the trip home and I'll stay with one of my cousins in Virginia, either the one in Virginia Beach or her sister in Richmond. I've stayed in Richmond the past few times I've needed a layover. I'd like to see the VA Beach cousin, but she is a teacher and has work on Monday, so Sunday night is a school night (the night I'll be staying over) and that might mess up her schedule. I dunno. I need to decide, I need to make plans.

OK, I've been working on this post since late morning. It's nearing 9:00 now, so I'm gonna post this sucker. And speaking of 9:00, change your clocks. Daylight Saving Time returns overnight.

stuff

I should really post more often. I need the therapy. Also, a lot of shit happens in my life and I need to keep up here.

Sproing was sprung from kiddie jail today. He has a scheduled appearance before the judge on March 11th, which happens to be my baby brother's birthday, to confuse you with unrelated details. Back to Sproing; he's doing pretty well. He is most definitely glad to be back home. He is showing respect for his parents, at least. Let's do the work to keep this up, Java and Superman!

I feel that I'm a neglectful parent. I really am to some extent. My excuse is that I get easily overwhelmed. Is that just a flimsy excuse or a valid reason? I'm not sure. Maybe a bit of both.

My keyboard "m" is wonky. Stingy. I try to use it and it doesn't give me the m. Sometimes. There must be tiny gremlins under the key keeping it from fully depressing. How depressing. My space bar isn't giving me space, either. Hmm. First world problems.

So I was released from the hospital today. Only stayed one day. I had some odd chest pain yesterday (Tuesday) so Superman took me to the emergency department. The EKG in the ER looked good, but they admitted me for observation and testing. I passed the tests. I had a stress test this morning and everything looked good, according to the doctor. The official diagnosis (I think) is PVC, Premature Ventricular Contraction. Because my heart otherwise looks fine, these PVCs are benign. Probably. I am currently wearing a Holter monitor, also known as an ambulatory electrocardiography device (isn't that a fun phrase!) that will check these things. I get to wear it for 24 hours (until 2:30 Thursday afternoon) and can't get it wet. No shower, in other words. Also, I didn't bathe yesterday while in hospital. I had a monitor on then, too, with sticky tabs stuck to my chest. Doesn't mix well with water. So I'm a little bit funky. My scalp bothers me the most, but I will wash my hair in the sink tomorrow (too tired tonight) and everything will be fine.

Reading the above linked website, I learned that some possible causes of PVCs are caffeine (I drink decaf coffee and not much other caffeinated stuff) and electrolyte imbalance. The doctor showed me the blood test results indicating that my magnesium level is slightly low, so that might be something. Alcohol may also be a cause, and indeed I notice the heart palpitations, or flutters, more often after I've had a couple of beers. Stress and insufficient sleep can make them worse. Well, by golly, I've got the stress thing in the bag, don't I? I talked to the day shift nurse this morning. We had a lovely chat. I told her some of the stuff going on in our household, the challenges with Sproing and Diva, etc. Her unofficial diagnosis for the cause of my chest pain is stress. She was kinda funny. "Honey, it's stress that brought you in here!" It was quite an exclamation the way she said it. Maybe you had to be there.

Anyway, I have Trigemini. That's a PVC every third beat. Not all the time, but when it's doing its PVC thing it'll go every third beat. I have actually listened to it and noticed the every third thing. I have a stethoscope and sometimes listen to my heart when it feels fluttery. This often happens at night when I lie down to sleep. The fluttering keeps me awake (how does that help?). In summation, my heart dances the waltz.

Updates on news from the last post:
Twitch needs to get his ass in gear. He's being a lazy SOB. Time for Mama to kick some lazy butt. He needs to be making money, working, getting life experience outside of my house.

Light's art show was fabulous, and it's good that her Daddy was there. She was kinda emotional before the opening reception and he helped diffuse that. He's good for her that way, probably better than I am. The show is actually up until the third week in March, and Superman and I are hoping to 'swing by' when we go to the Bloggerpalooza in Delaware next month. Yeah, western PA is not exactly on the way to Lewes, Delaware. There's a wrench in the works I discovered today. Sproing's court date is the Tuesday before the Bloggerpalooza and we hoped to arrive in Indiana, PA that day. We will see what we will see.
Here are some pictures from Light's art show.

Light herself

 Light's artwork

A different kind of cat video

This is very artsy. I like it, though I doubt it will appeal to a wide audience.

hand dancing

Have you seen this?



It has 8.4 million views on YouTube, so chances are pretty good that you may have seen it. I saw it this evening for the first time and just had to share it.

I have found a new blog in which to get lost. if it's hip, it's here. Art and design and weird and interesting stuff. And I've been clicking hip links since early this afternoon (with a mid afternoon break for errands and other important things). Found the above video on one of her posts. I'm in design-geek heaven!

The road to hell is paved with good intentions of posting on my blog

Here are some pictures I've been meaning to post since Christmas. This first one is a new t-shirt that Light got for Christmas. She's a well-endowed young lady, much to her delight and consternation. She's ambi-sexual; sometimes she feels feminine, sometimes masculine. It's hard to be a boy with a rack like that. She has a few t-shirts that allude to what's underneath, and this is her newest.

And speaking of what's new with Light, she is dating! As you may or may not know, in addition to being ambi-sexual, she's also bi-sexual, so when she told me she was going on a date, I had to ask "boy or girl?" It's a girl. Not only did she go on a date, she now has a girlfriend. I'm thrilled. I've met the young lady in question, and find her to be a delightful specimen of the sex. *
This is N at his high school graduation. Yes! He graduated! We're all so proud of him. He graduated at the end of the first semester, in mid January. That was a while ago, and I've been meaning to tell you about it and provide a picture ever since then.

Yesterday N and I went to the local beauty college to see about getting him enrolled. He keeps calling but not getting anyone. But they were open yesterday so we went. He may be able to start as early as next Wednesday, depending on his Pell Grant application and what Vocational Rehabilitation (Voc Rehab) is able to do. The next thing on my agenda with him is to get him a driver's learner's permit. This fella needs to get off his ass and get busy with life.

And this is what I've been busy with in my sculpture class. Those are pieces of steel that I cut out, welded (yes, welded) together, and painted.
In three views, since it's a 3D piece of art.

After seeing the finished product painted and all, I now want to repaint it in darker colors. I like the colors, but they need to be darker. It looks too washed out the way it is now.

I am in the middle of my spring break this week. My intention (road-to-hell) was to do a lot of studying and get a lot of assignments done. However, my motivation got lost somewhere in the basement. I finally finished the first assignment on my list yesterday, after fooling around with it for three days. It's an easy assignment, too. I could have done it in less than 30 minutes if I'd been serious about it. There is a lot more work to do, and here I sit.

Since I'm not studying anyway, I decided to get my sewing stuff out yesterday. I have pretty much everything set out, finally. It took me a long time to find all that I need because my sewing stuff is so disorganized. OK, my whole house is disorganized if you want to know the truth. Didn't actually sew anything yesterday, though, because once I got it all together, I had to go run the errands with N.

My truck, Manny, is in the shop again. The brakes were acting wonky, catching and stopping me suddenly as I tried to gently slow down. The poor ol' boy is on his last bearings. We've put so much money into repairs, and Superman is more and more frustrated about that. I told the mechanic that if it's a cheap, easy fix, then fix it. If it's a major problem, lead the ol' boy around back and shoot him. I love my truck. He's a piece of junk, but I love him. He's not that safe anymore, and certainly not dependable, and I realize it's time to think about replacing him. It's sad, but necessary. He has been an important element in my life over the past four years or so.

Sproing is doing pretty well, all things considered. He's a whole lot better than he was the last time I posted. He has his days, his episodes, but he recovers better than he used to, and his outbursts are less frequent. Baby steps. It's progress; slow but good.

Diva is batshit crazy, but that's a well established fact. Superman and I had a good talk with one of her mental health service coordinators earlier this week. The upshot is that we love her, care about her, and want the best for her, but are not capable of providing the level of care and supervision she needs at home right now. The service coordinator is working to get her into a therapeutic foster home when she leaves the treatment facility she's in now. The child is making some progress, but it's slow and unsteady with lots of reversals. There is a general upward trend (improvement), but the slope is shallow, low, whatever. She's a very sick (mentally) girl.

And I'm taking Child Psychopathology this semester. Psycho-Child! In our last class we started talking about some of the more serious mental disorders, and covered Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD), which Sproing has, and Conduct Disorder which Diva has. It was a depressing class, really affected my emotional state. It was hard to sit there and have the major difficulties in my life discussed in all their gory glory. It's much easier to deal with it in smaller doses, a piece at a time. I survived. Didn't even cry or anything.

I think I was going to discuss something else, but I forget what, so I'll quit writing now and post this. Enjoy. Hopefully I'll post again soon, more sooner than the latest interval. If you don't hear from me again soon, it's because I'm inundated with school work. I graduate at the end of April. I might not post again until May. Hopefully sooner, but no promises.

*Yes, I really do talk like that sometimes. It delights some, and irritates others.

Did I mention that this is a very busy semester for me?

The semester got off to a slow start, unfortunately. I know there is a bazillion to do, but most of my classes have been sort of sluggish. We're beginning the 4th week of the term, and it feels like the roller coaster is approaching the top of that first big drop. Did I mention that I'm not a big fan of roller coasters? Especially that first big drop.

I'm taking a sculpture class. Our first project involves welding. Yesterday (Monday) in class we did some welding practice. My piece looks terrible. It's just two small pieces of sheet steel welded at a 90 degree angle to each other. Yesterday it looked terrible. I went by the art studio this afternoon and took another look at it. If anything it looks worse today. The prof says I'll get better with practice.

And speaking of welding, guess what Superman has done? The darling ordered a new welding helmet for me!! The school has four helmets available, but they're no great shakes. Superman has bought a fancy magic helmet for me, one that has the auto-darkening lens! Here, let me show you what I found on Google:

Auto darkening welding helmets have lenses that automatically darken when a welding arc is struck, and returns to a light state when welding ceases, it allows the wearer to continue work without removing the helmet

That's the idea anyhow. I don't know what brand or anything. One of the suppliers that he uses at work had a sale on magic welding helmets. It should be delivered to the house tomorrow (Wednesday). I'm so excited!! Oh, and "magic welding helmet" is my name for it. The industry uses another term (probably "auto darkening") to describe the phenomenon. I like "magic helmet" better.

Which is all very well and good, but not really what I came to talk to you about. It's Sproing. His behavior is getting worse. This past weekend was hellacious. He had one of those huge fits of anger on Saturday afternoon that had me on the brink of... I don't know what exactly. He got angry at something, I don't even remember what, but he started screaming, slamming doors, and throwing things. We eventually got him confined to his bedroom where he began throwing everything he could comfortably lift. There are dents and divots in the walls of his room, and a new one in his new door.

While all this was going on, Superman 'bout lost it. In order to keep himself from hurting the child he left the house, took a drive, went to the home improvement store to pick up a few things. Which was cool, I understand he needed to remove himself from the situation. I was better able to keep my hands off the raging child. Sproing eventually (after an hour? more? less? I don't remember, being in a state of trauma myself) calmed down and came back to earth and was all sweetness and sugarplums. I think I got worse as he got better, though, just because I'd steadied myself during the storm and after it was over I was a basket case.

Superman, though, stayed out for two hours. I expected he'd be back in an hour or less. But the fool ran away from the problem rather than stepping back to catch his breath. When he finally got home he was still upset. He snapped at me, which unleashed my flood. I cried for probably 20 minutes, and he felt all guilty because he'd made me cry. Thing is, as I tried to explain to him, I had been on the verge of tears for two hours. The crying was maybe 10% about him and 90% about the whole Sproing mess.

That tantrum Saturday afternoon was so much like our experiences of two summers ago, when tantrums like that occurred at least once a day, and often two or three times a day. It was hell. It was traumatic. Saturday's experience brought up all those old wounds. I don't remember, did I blog much then? It's too late and I'm too tired (or lazy) to check the archives, but if you're interested go back to July/August/September of 2009 to see if I wrote much about it. Alternatively, go to October 2009 through February 2010 to see what I might have said as I was mentally processing the trauma.

Anyway, to get back to my story, see, yesterday it happened again. He got upset while playing his Xbox NFL football game (Madden 11) because, I don't know, his team lost or something. He threw the controller onto the floor, coffee table, something hard - three times - and it broke. He was screaming and crying the whole time, and screamed "I don't care if the controller broke!!" which of course wasn't true. Ever since the outburst Saturday my nerves have been on edge. I keep having short episodes where I get kinda shaky, my hands slightly trembling. It's as if an old war wound has re-opened.

Sproing went into his room to continue his tirade (actually, I think I "escorted" him to his room) and I removed the Xbox from the TV in the living room. It's hidden in my office now. He had the gall to tell me today that I didn't need to take it. He expects me to hook it back up now because, I don't know, he's not mad right now or something. He has some money he got for his birthday, and wanted to go out this afternoon to buy himself a new controller. Oh Hell NO!!, though what I said was "We need to discuss this." The point is, of course, Oh Hell NO!!

So we need to discuss this. Superman and I have had some conversations along this line. I also spent 1.5 hours this evening on the phone with the fellow who is now working with Sproing, sort of like a case worker.* The three of us adults need to have a pow-wow with the boy about his behavior and about earning his Xbox back. But I dread having this conversation. When I think about it my stomach gets tied in knots. It will not be a pleasant conversation, I fear. There's the crux of the matter: I fear. Here we are again, seeing some of the same behaviors that drove him to being put in a psychiatric residential treatment facility (aka "loony bin") a year and a half ago. Behaviors that nearly put me into the loony bin.

And I've been on edge. Close to tears. Having trouble concentrating. Forgetting details, especially details of the events leading up to and following his emotional explosions. This, for those of you following along in your programs, is Not Good. If he doesn't get his shit together we're going to have to send him back to the loony bin. I know he doesn't want to do that. I don't want to have to do that. But it's ultimately up to him, isn't it? This, I'm fairly sure, will be part of the discussion we will have with him.

The case worker will spend some time with him after school tomorrow (Wednesday). Then when Superman and I get home from work and school, respectively, we will all sit down and hash out some stuff. Or, if Sproing and the case worker do not have a productive time tomorrow afternoon, this meeting with the parents will be just the adults, with Sproing hanging back in his room or something. We shall see what we shall see.

OK, it's time for me to go to bed. As soon as I'm able I will post a follow-up.

*It's been so long since I last posted. Sproing has a new case worker, an older black man with lots of experience working with troubled adolescents. As you may or may not know, Sproing is black ("African-American" in Newspeak) and was adopted into this lily-white ("European-American" in Newspeak) family when he was but a babe in arms. So for the boy to have a case worker of the same race and sex is a boon. Also, as I've worked with the case worker over the past couple of weeks I've found that he's extremely good at his job, we get along well, and are developing a good working relationship. This is a Good Thing.

Platypus in Art

This is the platypus I worked on for so long. I finished him before I started on the narrative about which I posted Sunday night. I took these pictures the same day I took the others, so the time stamp is screwy. I've sense turned off the time stamp feature on my camera. It's annoying!

Looking head-on at the platypus

Platypus, port side, with seaweed under his tail

Seaweed and platypus with log and rocks and more seaweed

Detail of seaweed, back side of platypus, the other end of the log, and some rocks. And turtles.

More detail: seaweed, turtles, rocks

Fish in the seaweed and the back of the platypus

This piece looks better in person. Most of my stuff is difficult to photograph. The fact that I'm a poor photographer doesn't help. And I think the lighting on this backdrop is messed up. We're supposed to take photos of everything we do, using a backdrop for some official art reason of which I'm unaware. The professor insists, and I haven't asked too many questions about that. (I'm too busy asking questions about lots of other stuff.)

Did I tell you I'm taking sculpture in the spring? I know I didn't tell you I'm also taking another ceramics class, because I just found out about that a few days ago. Only problem is that I'm majoring in psychology, and I have a handful of psych classes to take in order to graduate at the end of spring semester. Adding the ceramics class will knock me into overtime, i.e. I'll be taking more credit hours than are officially allowed. I can get an override to do this, and I plan to. Ceramics is that important to me. I'm not sure how important psychology is. It is, really, I just don't know how much. Because I'm good at it. And I'm good at art. So what's a girl to do?

Also, happy winter solstice. And Yule.

Pictures of my ceramic art

Good evening. I am ready to show you some of my ceramic art from this semester. First I present my raku glazed vessel. It's approximately 12 inches in diameter and 11 inches high. It was glazed and fired with the raku method. It looks shiny. And a bit ugly, but in a pretty way

It looks better in person. And the time stamp on these two pictures is correct. The following pictures were taken a week after these, but the time stamp says New Years Day 1007.
Yeah, so ignore the time stamp. This is 3/4th of a set of tableware. The assignment was to make a large plate, a small plate, a tumbler, and a small cup of some kind. I made the 4th piece, but I didn't get it finished in time to get it into the kiln for the bisque fire. The 4th piece is a goblet that I'm particularly pleased with. It won't get cooked until January. Until then, enjoy the other pieces.
I've been meaning to try out that tumbler to see how well it works as a drinking vessel. The thing is sitting on my desk now, stacked up with all the other ceramic work I brought home.

Next is the narrative piece that goes with the personal story I posted a month ago. I worked on this sucker for a good three weeks, maybe more.

top view

"The Church" on the left, my house on the right, a gay couple walking together toward my house. A crumbling archway between the church and my house.

church side view

And a bit of the crumbling archway.

detail of my house side view, with me as the crazy lady in the window

angled view with church on the right, archway behind, and "man of the cloth" being all judgmental and shit

That's supposed to be an altar there on the front right corner along the wall of the church. Behind the preacher-guy you can see a wonky pew, and if you look carefully you can see the gay couple heading down the road.

angled view showing gay couple walking toward my house, with mini-me in an apron welcoming them to my home

The bit on the left is supposed to portray a homey scene of the hearth. Maybe you can see it better if you embiggen it.

Detail of the front of my house with me welcoming the gay couple

That shadow in front is the back of the pew. I made the pew with distorted angles and such, symbolizing the distortions of the church and the altered perspective of the scene.

And that's about all I'm going to say now. I should be posting more often for the next three weeks until school starts again. I have some other pictures of artwork to share, too. Stay tuned.

It's the end of the semester as I know it

I am so tired. Slept a long time last night/this morning. Didn't get up until almost noon, went to bed around 9 last night, I think.

Had some unpleasant interaction with Sproing last evening. He had a bad day at school, and was grumpy when he got home. I asked him if anything was wrong, did he have a bad day, is everything alright? He grunted some non-answer at me but wouldn't say anything more. Then he got more grumpy. He was taunting me and I was trying not to be drawn into his web. Things escalated. I got my feelings hurt, and cried. I don't like doing that with him. Mama tears are like hitting below the belt. If I'm going to fight, I want to fight fair. But the tears were an honest response to his behavior. It was a mess. We apologized after a cool-down period. Then they boy had a good talk with Superman about what was bothering him, and felt much better afterwards. I was still a nervous wreck, so I took a chill-pill (Ativan, I think it is) and went to bed early.

Had my last final exam yesterday morning. It wasn't an exam, as such, but a presentation of a project we'd been working on in teams. Adolescent development and things that parents should know about their adolescents. Then, amusingly, I came home and had a conflict with my 12 year old adolescent. Irony is a bitch.

Did some good art this semester. Was challenged, had fun. Really like my art prof. Cool short bald man.

Am so tired I'm having trouble writing this. Can't make the words do what I want them to do. Spend as much time correcting misspelled/typo words as writing the post itself. Time to go lie down. Will return.

checking in

I'm not dead yet. Tired, yes, but not dead.

Finished my last class of the semester yesterday. Next week is final exams. I should be sleeping right now, but I really want to touch base here. I miss my blog peeps.

Clay in my veins. Art animates me. Psychology tickles a different part of my brain/body/soul. My attentions are divided.

Don't want to celebrate Christmas this year. Did I say that last year? It's too late, I'm too tired to check the archives. I don't want to celebrate Christmas this year. Twitch asked me today what I want for Christmas. Nothing. Honestly. I've already gotten his gifts. Bought my Mama's gifts, had them wrapped and shipped by amazon.com. Did that shopping while I was on the phone with her when she told me what she wanted. L-O-V-E the internet.

Don't know what we're going to do with/about Diva at Christmas. NOT going to bring her home! Don't really want to visit her, either, but probably will.

OK, really, now is a bad time to think about all these things I should/want to/don't want to do. I'm too tired and stressed, which means I don't want to do anything. Maybe by next weekend I'll be more inclined to try to give a shit.

I'm at the ceramics studio right now. Recently put my mud away. Have been working here often, many projects due by the final exam time next Wednesday morning. It's 1:30 a.m. and I'm still in the ceramics studio. Going to shut down the 'puter now, go home, shower some of the stink and mud off of me, and go to sleep!

The story of my transformation from homophobe to homophile

I had this assignment for my ceramic sculpture class:

Students will write a 2-4 page (typed, double spaced) true narrative and then design a ceramic environment to illustrate the narrative. The narrative should be about an event or experience you witnessed.

So yeah, I have to depict the story in clay. Artistically. The most significant experience I've had in recent years is learning to embrace The Gay. Here is the story I submitted to my art professor this morning.

Until about five years ago I had my life mostly figured out. I was in my early 40s with four children, the youngest having recently started elementary school. After being a stay-at-home mom most of my adult life, I decided to pursue my dream of driving a truck and became a school bus driver. I finally had a job, was making a little bit of money, and my work schedule coincided with the children’s days off from school.

The other important element of my life aside from my family was the church. We were members of a conservative protestant denomination, and my husband and I were actively involved in various ministries within the church. Our church taught a strong Bible based theology, and there were very few points with which I disagreed. Being curious and intelligent, I had given a lot of thought to many social issues from the perspective of what I learned in church.

In the winter of 2006 I met a young man whose existence challenged my beliefs. C was a 17 year old high school senior who had lived with an inner conflict since early adolescence. He also was a faithful Christian but he was romantically attracted to guys, which the church says is wrong. He kept his same sex attraction a secret until age 17 when he realized that the conflict was not going to solve itself. As he began to accept his homosexuality he slowly shared his secret with close friends. My daughter Light was one of those friends.

Light introduced me to C in December. Although I had strong suspicions, I did not know for sure that he was gay until later in January. By then most everybody at school knew of his homosexuality, and many of those classmates also attended the church where he and his mother worshiped. He had not come out to his mother and was afraid she would find out through the grapevine. The child was full of angst typical of a high-strung teenager under stress. He needed to talk and I was willing to listen. I found him to be a charming, intelligent, sensitive young man who in no way fit the image of a homosexual that I’d learned from the church. I had a conundrum.

Not long after I started talking to C he found an opportunity to tell his mother that he is gay. She did not take it well. She and C’s step-father gave him 30 days to move out of their house. I was livid! I understand her attitude about homosexuality since I held a similar view, but I do not understand how she could banish her son from her home. Because it is in my nature and typical of what I do, I invited him to move in with us. I had grown to love C.

As I got to know and love him, I began to seriously question the church’s teaching about homosexuality. The church taught me that gays were cursed and homosexuality was a lifestyle choice. C’s story didn’t reflect that, and I did not believe that God could curse someone as wonderful as C. I had a lot of questions. It was time to research the issues.

I visited a lot of websites and read some dense books. Initially my curiosity focused on the cause of homosexuality and how and why the church condemned it. What does the Bible really say about homosexuality? Who interpreted it into what my church taught? How has the church’s position changed through history? My attitudes and beliefs changed fast. Within two weeks of beginning my research I realized that homosexuality is a normal, natural variation of sexual orientation, not a choice and not inherently wrong.

My research led to more questions about the nature of gay people. The only gay people I knew were C and his boyfriend, and I was well aware that these two crazy gay boys from Greenwood, South Carolina were not typical of gays everywhere. I went online to meet other gay men who were older and more mature than these two kids. There are a lot of gay men who have their own blogs and that’s where I met some wonderful, interesting people. Many of them have since become my good friends.

This is a good place to end this narrative, but there is more of the story that I want to tell, at least in this essay if not with a clay sculpture.

I questioned the teaching of my church. After careful consideration I determined that the church was wrong. If the church was wrong about that, what else is it wrong about? It’s a domino effect. One of the pillars on the foundation of my belief crumbled, causing the walls to crack. Other clichés happened, which are easy to sculpt but not particularly creative. I radically changed my beliefs over a period of approximately six months. Not only did the walls of my faith crack, but my nerves cracked. I ended up having a nervous breakdown in late April or early May, about two and a half months after Cory moved in with us. The search for meaningful expression of my spirituality continues to this day. I know a lot more than I did five years ago, but I am less sure of where I’m going or what I should do with my life.

So there you have it. And I have no idea how to put any of that into a sculpture.

More art

"Think for a minute about what makes you fabulous and how you can celebrate it."-- Laura Mercier

This is the other fertility figure I made for ceramics class. It's a complicated piece, not easy to see in photographs. And for some reason I missed taking a shot from one other important perspective. This side, for instance,
only shows the hollow side of the female part. If the camera were behind it looking toward where the camera is now, you'd see better the mound of the pregnant belly. So, the pregnant belly of course represents life.

But lower the view slightly and you see under the belly (you can't see it well in this shot) at the ribs in the hollow, at a representation of death. That's the idea, anyway. And those things to the right of the belly are supposed to be a woman's breasts, though some have said they look like something else.
Flip the whole thing over, and here we see the male side of the figure. I had lots of fun doing this side.
If I were to do it again I would change a few things, but this is what we got. And I like it.

The fertility figures were our first assignment. I just finished the third assignment. I have pictures of 66% of the second assignment. We made 3 vessels, and two of them are finished. This evening the class will fire the third pot using the raku technique. If I have the gumption I will take some photos of the process and my finished third pot.

I have a hard time posting pictures on here. The damn things don't format the way I want them to. I want to show you my vessels, particularly the ginkgo pot. I'll do that in another post, though, hopefully soon.

So, about the quote leading this post:
"Think for a minute about what makes you fabulous and how you can celebrate it."
-- Laura Mercier
It was in my daily email quote. I suppose my art could be said to be part of what makes me fabulous. Celebration, though, is tricky. I don't like to do it. Perhaps showing you this piece of art is a way to celebrate.

So there you have it.

I haven't forgotten you

And here we have some of my art. This is a piece from out first assignment, which was to make fertility figures or something suggestive of fertility. This here is supposed to be a pregnant pig with really big teats. The swirls give her visual interest and maybe suggest the curly tail, except that this curly tail has gone wild all over her body. I don't know, people. Sometimes these things come to me like that.

Madame Pig from the other side. She's about the size of a small fist. Oh, and pay no attention to the time stamp on the photo. I accidently changed it and haven't fixed it yet.
This fertility figure is more a maternity figure, I suppose. The form is supposed to suggest a mama bear, and there are her two little cubs. The one lying down looks like a baby gerbil to me, but I meant for it to be a small bear cub.
Mama bear's back is all dressed up with a symbol signifying what she eats (salmon) and where she lives (Pacific Northwest)
Here they are snuggled all together in the protection of Mama's embrace.
There are more figures from this assignment, one pretty boring and the other amazing. I'm too tired to load them now. Remind me if I forget later. Tomorrow in class I will take more pictures of the latest completed assignment. I may also photograph my current work in progress. I'll try to get some pics posted here.

I'm quite busy this semester, as I've mentioned. And that's all I have to say about that. Today I am amazingly sleepy. Almost time for my next nap.

We had a lovely Samhain (Halloween) celebration over here last night. A core group of young people, C and N's closest friends, came over and we had a feast and celebration. I cooked a lot of food! I didn't realize that I was doing most of the cooking, but when the table was set, there was all this food that I made. Superman fixed some of those really skinny steaks, I can't remember what they're called. That was our emergency back-up meat. The guys bought a very nice pork loin, but for complicated reasons it did not start cooking as early as it should have. It was finally finished when everything was over around 1:00 this morning. I just had a piece of the pork loin for lunch. It's amazingly good! We may have to do that again, only plan it better next time.

Late last night I had an attack of the blues. That so doesn't describe it, though. An attack of the black? I was overcome by a painful sadness, a mourning of what I don't know. I felt closer to crazy than I have in a while. It was a familiar feeling. Maybe that's what I was sad about, that it was so familiar. I don't know.

One of the elements of our celebration was masks. We had been instructed to bring a mask to wear. Last weekend I drew out some sketches for a mask I had in mind, and yesterday afternoon I made it. Thing about my mask, though, in concept it was less of a mask and more of an unmask. C is the only one who understood the significance of it, simply because he knows me so well. I used a piece of black craft foam, the thin lightweight stuff that is easy to cut into shapes, but stays stiff enough to not fold up under its own weight, mostly. I dunno. Look it up. Anyway, I used this piece of black craft foam, cut into a shape similar to that of Robin's mask. Instead of being smooth across the bottom, I cut it so that there were extensions from the outside of the eye area that ran down the outsides of my cheeks, sort of. One on each side, sort of curling out around my cheeks. The top of the mask above the eyes went up, forming the apex of a semicircle that surrounded my forehead, from the temples, up over the forehead, then back to the other temple. Don't know if I've described it well.

But on to the concept of the mask. The two pieces that ran down around my cheeks I covered with a line of clear rhinestones, diamond-like in appearance. Those were my tears, tracking down my face to my chin. This was a sorrowful mask. Recently, I'd say over the last few months I've been pretty happy. There haven't been many of those sorrowful days. However, the sorrow and pain are always with me, usually not far from the surface. Deep enough these days that it isn't too obvious to most people. My mask unmasked those feelings, and though the celebration was going along very well and I was tired but happy, suddenly the sorrow rammed into me. I sat on the ground for a while, then moved to the lawn chair and sat for a long time after everyone else went inside. C and N came out to sit with me. C held my hand and asked me those questions that must be asked. Do you intend to hurt yourself? Are you planning to kill yourself? He's a good friend and I love him very deeply. And no, I had no intentions of doing myself in. We discussed taking a very small number of pills to calm my raging emotions/nerves, and that is what I decided to do.

Before they came out to sit with me I had figured out what I needed to do. I had to burn the mask. I removed it, held it in my hands for a while watching as the light from our campfire illuminated the rhinestones. C followed me as I walked over to the fire to drop the damned mask in. Funny how different things burn. That mask curled up on itself, burst into flames, and quickly melted to nothing. I think I felt better. So I came inside, took some aleve for my headache and 1 mg of benzodiazapine. Then I washed my face and went to bed. I felt better immediately. I assume I did, having no recollection of what transpired from then until I woke up at 9 or so this morning.

Today is obviously a sleep day. I've had one nap already, and keep nodding off while typing this. I'm going to take another nap now.

Happy Halloween, Happy Samhain, and Happy New Year to all.

Friday's attempt

A quote from one of the founders of modern psychology:

"The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You don't blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the President. You realize that you control your own destiny."
-- Albert Ellis

I don't totally agree with Ellis, but he's on the right track.

OK, I'll tell you a little something about art, loss, and pain.

Did I mention last spring that I was sculpting a hand and arm in art class? I don't recall if I mentioned it and am too lazy to check. The point is that I was making this hand/arm out of clay in the sculpture class, and it was very good. The professor didn't fire it in the kiln before the end of the semester, but said that there would probably be a kiln firing about three weeks into the summer term when the grad program was in session. So I left it there. And when I came back this fall the piece is missing. I've asked around. No one knows where it is or what happened to it. All they can tell me is that a lot of things were tossed, and it is probably gone. I've been processing that information.This is a scan of the only photograph I have of the hand. I don't remember who took the picture or who gave me the photo. It pains me to look at it because I remember how good the sculpture was. There was a lot of detail and it looked quite realistic. I had to do surgery on the hand when I first got the shape completed because the palm was too square. I took a wedge out of the pinkie edge of the hand so the palm sloped down from the base of the index finger to the base of the pinkie. As you can see I had the creases in the palm and the curves of the base of the thumb and the forearm. It looked really good. And it is gone now.

It's a waste of energy to be upset. What's done is done. No amount of fussing on my part is going to make the thing reappear. I am mourning, though.

And here's the thing: the chunk of clay is gone, but the soul and the spirit and the talent that created the art is still here within me. No one can see it unless I create something else that displays that talent, but I know that I can do it. I was frankly surprised at how well I was able to depict the human hand and arm. I was not able to do that in the early 1980s when I took a sculpture class, and I haven't worked with clay since then. But something happened, I don't know what, and now I can do it.

So what now? We wait patiently, we make the most of the opportunities that pass our way, and we continue to try to make a positive difference in the world. And we cry just a little bit.

My goodness

Howdy! It's been a little while. I mean to write more frequently, but stuff happens. I tend to not use my time as wisely as I should, and that causes some of these problems. Nevertheless, I'm taking this opportunity to give you a brief update. It will be brief because I have part of a research paper to write before I go to bed tonight.

Big good news! Sproing comes home tomorrow! (Friday) He is ready to be home. He is very ready to be gone from that place! Superman will pick him up tomorrow afternoon. We have been getting the place ready for him. We decided just this morning to switch bedrooms for him and Diva. All her stuff is out of her old room, and she has scrubbed the floor. I moved a few of his things into that room, but there isn't much to move. Superman will move his bureau, hopefully tomorrow. The big surprise for him is new beds. We picked them out today, and they'll be in Saturday. I'll have to take a picture. The old bed he had, the one Superman made for him, has been "repurposed." It's now in Light's room being used as a work table and storage shelf. We bought two nice twin beds and the night stand that matches. We don't have mattress and box spring for them yet, but that's on Superman's list of things to do tomorrow. He's taking the day off to take care of stuff and get the boy.

I will be at a conference tomorrow. It's the Bodies of Knowledge symposium hosted by University of South Carolina (USC) Upstate, in Spartanburg. It's sponsored by the USC Upstate Center for Women's and Gender Studies. Light and I are going, so it'll be a good mom-daughter time, too. The affair ends in the afternoon, so I'll drive back home to (belatedly) welcome Sproing in the evening.

Let's make this post all good news. That being the case, I can't mention Diva any more than I already have. I may post later this weekend to give you the not-good news about her.

Moving on... Let's talk about school. We had a critique in my art class today. Yeah, it's about two weeks late. Anyway, my piece received a very favorable critique. The instructor said that when I told him my plans for my cabinet, he was afraid it would look very tacky. (He only said that today. I hadn't known.) He is pleased to see that it is by no means tacky. Actually, there were a lot of nice things said about the work. I'm happy.

Monday I took the second exam in my Behavioral Stats class. I studied diligently for this sucker, and it paid off: 98%! I made one small error of omission and one minor error of commission. I'm pleased. That's the class for which I'm writing the paper this evening. Or I will be once I get this thing posted. I'm about half (maybe less than half) finished with what I have to write tonight. There's another section of it due on Monday, so I'll be working on that over the weekend.

We took the car (Eva) to the shop to have the brakes serviced. My buddy Ron was able to turn the rotors (or whatever he did) and get her done in one day, and for only $68! We were pleased. The brakes have been a bit jittery of late. What with Sproing being "in placement" for the last 5 months, we have driven a lot of miles in that little car. It's a 140 mile round trip to visit him, and we have made that trip at least twice a week almost every week since the beginning of October. It's been a good little car. The thing has probably paid for itself in fuel savings over what we used to drive. Do you remember Big Bertha, our 15 passenger van? She died a slow grueling death last year. It cost more than three times as much to drive Bertha than it does to drive Eva. It's all good.

OK, I've procrastinated enough for now. Time to get back to my research paper. TTFN!

Softening the Blow

This is the nearly finished art project. It's made from a wall mounted medicine cabinet. One of the two sliding doors remains. I removed a lot of the silvering from the mirror so it shows a vague image under the right light conditions. That doesn't seem to have shown up in these photographs, but oh well. This is the lady. It's a papier mache mask, finished off with layers of dark pink and apricot tissue paper, then finally covered with glittery white tissue paper. I was trying to get the mask color to compliment the hat. I'm pleased with the result.

Her "pearls" are flailing wildly.

I don't know about this exposure. She looks not-so-good.

Here you can see the cloisonne bird pin she wears on or about her left breast, sort of.
And she has a couple of bottles of eau de toilette there in her cabinet.
I'm wearing that plaid skirt that's not fit to wear in public. That's my left foot, one of my finer qualities.
On the other side of the cabinet are seven narrow drawers that pivot out on a central dowel. My right foot, the other finer quality, shows up in the mirror.

There are assorted trinkets and knick-knacks in each drawer. I think I will paint the inside of the drawers before next week. The project was due Thursday and I am all but finished with it. I still want to paint inside the drawers and attach a narrow skirt to the bottom of the cabinet. You can see the proto-skirt poorly attached in the previous photo.
This is how it looks with the drawers all closed. The skirt is more obvious in this shot, too. It has fat bun feet which I want to show, but the blocks that hold the feet need to be covered.
I did not photograph the back. It's covered in the fabric from which I made the skirt, and has a leg that hinges off the center near the top, giving it a tri-pod, easel effect. It's made to sit on a table, at about table height anyway. It could also hang on a wall, but that would make the feet seem superfluous. Eh, whatevs.

The final critique of this project will occur at the first class period after spring break, which started for me yesterday.

Yes, I am on spring break. I had an exam in Death and Dying on Thursday, and though I waited later than I should have, I studied to what I hope is good effect. I feel pretty good about the test. I had an exam in that bogus Fitness and Wellness class on Monday. Made a damned B on it. I was supposed to know that HDL is the good cholesterol, but I thought the LDL was the more favorable. That, and prostate cancer is the most common cancer among men. I guessed lung cancer. Lung cancer is the most deadly cancer for women and men, but the most common is prostate for men, breast for women. Now I know. It was a high B and I basically don't give a shit. I've got two other tests in that class, and I can pull the grade up to an A if I give it half an effort.

I would have had two exams on Thursday, but I DROPPED THAT MADE-UP-BULL-SHIT CLASS!!!! Can you tell I'm excited about that? Nevertheless, my week was very busy, which is why I haven't posted since Wednesday, and that was perfunctory.

There's more, but none of it relates to this topic so I'll save it for another post, hopefully to be seen in this location very soon. Stay tuned.