I love art. I don’t know who doesn’t love art, because it all affects us to some point. I even have a board for it on Pinterest (Art for My Heart). So, today I’m going to share a few images from two of my favorite artists.
And Gustave Baumann
Incidentally, they both were painters of the Southwest. Though I am not a fan of Southwestern art per se, I do love a style of art called California Impressionism which appears to be a combination of the style of these two artists (even though O’Keeffe used watercolors and Baumann was a woodcut artist). Here is a lovely example from Tom Brown Fine Art:
I’m sure I’ve shared this here before, but here is another example of California Impressionism which I got as a total steal (they asked $50 and I paid $15!) at a garage sale a few years ago:
What sort of art speaks to you? What images do you fill your mind with?
I was supposed to go to M’s house so I didn’t have to sit by myself in my gloomy, messy house. I got in the car and started driving, but the crying started too so I turned around and came back. I got in bed and got the big sobs out, cried at God, got back online and chatted with the only person in the universe I know doesn’t judge and doesn’t project on me. It’s kind of funny, these last few days I’ve felt so alone but I think I found who I’m looking for. It’s this friend. She lives far away, so there won’t be any jam making, but because of her knowledge of how our brains work I feel I really can chat with her even though my face is melted from this uncontrollable sobbing. Shit is spinning in my brain, and she knows why and doesn’t worry because she understands it. And nobody here does. And you know, that’s totally ok. That’s normal. Most people don’t have to deal with mental illness this severe in their daily lives. I don’t have to clarify my words with her, because she GETS it. I can tell her I’m hurting so much I want to hurt myself and she knows that I’m just expressing how bad I feel, not that I’m actually going to do anything. For the first time in days I feel relief.
I’m feeling really overwhelmed right now. And lonely. I scored these gorgeous strawberries in Pleasanton yesterday (at Safeway of all places!) and planned to make jam today, but nobody could come and play with me. Chances are, nobody will be available tomorrow, either. And it hurts really bad. I have all these friends, all these people that love me. But either I just have incredibly bad luck, or I don’t know what because it feels like none of my friends are there for me. That’s probably not true, but that’s how it feels. It’s hard for me to reach out when I’m feeling bad and alone, and the times that I have just don’t work out for anyone else.
I’m tired of reaching out. I’m tired of stretching my comfort zone. I’ve exhausted myself trying to make things happen for me, and I can’t take any more heartbreak when it doesn’t.
I just want one friend. One person I can call, one person that will call me. Someone that likes the same stuff I do. Someone that isn’t too busy to go to JoAnn’s or make jam once in awhile. Someone that enjoys the same trashy tv shows and can’t wait to talk about it together. Someone that doesn’t make me make all the effort. Someone that understands that I can’t call them when I’m having a bad day, I need them to call me because they just know how I am.
I’d like to say there’s a position open for this person, but I already know that no one wants the job.
My dog is going batshit crazy over the lawn guys in my back yard right now. They’ve been here for like an hour, and will be for many more. They’re so scared of her they run away from closed doors. She is a BEAST when it comes to protecting us! Which is great, unless you’re a woman burglar. Then she’ll just let you in and show you where all our worthless crap is. I should’ve asked the vet for some doggy Xanax for this project. What project you ask? Why, my new back yard project! Today’s the day they start working on installing the synthetic lawn that I’ve been pining for, for years!
No, not astroturf you jerk. AWESOME, real-looking, fake grass!!
So far I’ve offered them bottled water, twice, and told them if they need to use “the facilities” to just let me know. I’ll lock Chelsea up so they can pee without fear. And no, I’m not worried about letting strange guys in my house because remember my dog? That bitch will eat through doors to get to me if I tell her to! Anyway, I wonder if other people that get work done are not as nice as me because they act all weird that I’m being a human being to them.
I should’ve taken “before” photos so I could show you how truly awesome this transformation will be. Oh well, you’ll have to settle for “after”! Which will be up as soon as we slap together our Phat Tommy adriondack chairs that I got from eBay last week. Did I mention that me & eBay are BFFs? We totally are. Me, Amazon, and eBay. The three amigas.
I’m spending the weekend with Grandma & Grandpa. B is part of the Mock Trial team at his school and the state competition is this weekend in San Jose and I didn’t want to fork out for a hotel room that would be surrounded by teenagers being loud (as they should be, they’re young!) at night.
Bed, I feel like I’m cheating on you with none of the fun. Last night was like being on the rack. I’m on a love seat sized sofa bed. It’s got a real mattress, not a thin pad like they used to have; but it’s like this bed was made for a midget. The pillows fall down a hidey-hole, my feet hang off the edge, and it’s just not you. You, with your perfectly molded shapes. And a head board. And a flat foundation. And pillows that don’t deflate.
I’m so sorry that I strayed! I can’t promise to never do it again, but I swear I’ll regret it every time I do.
See you tomorrow night,