Life in the Slow Lane

Drawing a walnut in its husk is a bit of a challenge. Fortunately, I accidentally sat on the walnut and crushed the husk to a fine dust that got lost in the seat cushions of my truck. I no longer had to worry about the husk. But then drawing the walnut shell proved difficult because I was frequently interrupted by a rambunctious three year old and nice women who worried that I was straining my eyes and so would change the main source of light, changing all of the shadows and highlights. But friends, these difficulties are minor when compared to the difficulty of drawing the meat of the walnut. A freshly shelled walnut, sitting all by itself right in front of you... I cannot tell you how many times I reached out to pop that nut into my mouth. Maybe in the light of day I will notice a glaring error in my drawing and wish to correct it against the nut, but tonight, oh, that nut was sweet.

I am full of Grinch-like attitude about the upcoming festivities. No, not Christmas. Halloween. I just don't understand why someone who gets so embarrassed about spider webs in their house will go purchase spider webs to drape their bushes and entry way. And why do people who buy beautiful homes try to make them look haunted? Why do people who cannot stand to have a friendly garden spider to catch bugs put great, big, hideous, black, eight legged somethings on their roof? Why do people who worry about attracting flies carve pumpkins and leave them on their door step for weeks? Why do people spend lots of money making sure their lawn stays green and groomed and then install a graveyard in the middle, complete with stones, skeletons, and poorly upkept graves? I know, I know, call me a grinch.

I have begun to wonder if I have been mistaken for some secret agent or other underground persona. I feel as if I have been told secret information in code only I don't have the key to figure it out. There is a woman in my sewing class who mumbles things to me nearly every day. Over the sound of my sewing machine, I hardly even notice she is talking to me, so when I realize she is looking at me, waiting for a response, I say "I'm sorry, what did you say?" "*mumble, mumble, mumble* grandmother *mumble, mumble* alive." "I'm sorry, I still didn't hear you. What did you say?" "I said, I think my grandmother's heart was burried alive." Now I am fairly certain I got all of the words, but I have no idea what she means. "What?!?" "I think my grandmother's heart was burried alive." "I'm sorry, I don't understand what you mean." "Don't worry, you'll understand later," she tells...

Despite the efforts of several women to find me a good Okie to marry, I and my heart have returned to California. Although, I did spend a delightful afternoon with the family of a certain star from a certain soap opera and receive, as a gift, a picture of said celebrity. I don't remember the celebrity's name, and I don't believe I ever knew his character's name and I accidentally spilled water all over his picture, but I'm sure that if I happened to put the show's name on my blog I would receive a ton of hits. I must admit that the celebrity looks rather cute, but I would also like to point out that his niece and nephew are absolutely darling.

When you have an assignment to draw a walnut, it really helps if you can keep the walnut in the same position with the same lighting while you sit in the same position with the same crick in your neck. But traveling to Oklahoma and chasing around a three year old does not really provide that sort of atmosphere. After much contemplation coinciding with trying to decide whether I should erase what I have or try and remember what the walnut looked like before I had to move, I have decided that still life is not refering to whatever it is that you happen to be drawing. Still life is what your life has to look like in order to finish. Maybe that is why so many artists of still life work are dead.

So I got an email from caedmonstia the other day and she asked me if I knew what we were going to do for Christmas, as it looks like we are all going to be rather broke. She suggested that maybe we should pick a price limit for how much we can spend per gift, you know, like maybe $2. Now I know that money goes farther in Brazil, and I know that, as her blog url suggests, she has been broke for a very long time, but $2 doesn't sound like it will go very far. So I think I'm going to suggest a limit that will give us more to work with. How about $3 plus tax?

Has any one else found it disturbing that "word verification" is a misnomer that attacks both the morals this nation was founded on and our basic understanding of language? When we are called upon to use "word verification" we are called to affirm random letters as a word. We are being forced to agree that something is what it is not. In addition, our very definition of "word" is being challenged. My friends, we cannot let this happen. The greater good of our nation is at stake. Rise up in protest against the subtle attacks of evil on the internet. Do not stand idly by! (Never fear, however, I am positive that the good of commenting on my blog outways the ill of affirming random letters to be a word.)