Busy work

This is the season for small pieces of art. They're thought to be better for gift giving. Last year, my gallery did over $20K on little, inexpensive pieces the day after Thanksgiving. Further, last time I set up at the government building, I sold five small ones in two days; I'm glad to say I have two more gov't gigs in the coming weeks. Overall, I've sold about a dozen small works in less than a year; they help me keep my painting-a-month sales goal.

The tricky part is matching the things up as a unit. If you are provided a thin vertical space for your pieces to hang in a gallery, technically they're supposed to look good together. The problem for me has been that I feel that I cannot successfully put together 4-6 pieces that resemble each other and are framed appropriately together.

It can become more work than it's worth for a couple reasons. First off, I try to buy frames on sale all year, but I don't generally find or buy five at a time, so what I usually have isn't matched. I prefer them to not be all alike, but I realize the trend is for uncreative uniformity. Sigh. In some ways, I have to please both the gallery and the buyer.

Further, I only charge $75 for a 4x6, which is an appropriate price per square inch and is neither at the top nor bottom of the scale. Unfortunately, the gallery gets 40% of that, so I'm only pulling in $45, but the frame probably costs $6-10 and I actually getting only $30-35 due to the rest of framing do dads and other expenses.

Please remember that artists aren't getting wealthy off of sales, even that $2000 abstract piece you think could have been done by your toddler wrestling with the dog. Galleries will take up to 50%. And framing takes up a chunk of the other half. Calculate in shipping and $75 (or much more) specialized boxes for shipping to a national show. (My tiny 8x10 in a national show earlier this year was $45 for the box and $30 each way for shipping. And I would only usually have charged $275 for such a painting!) Hence, a dozen small pieces sold in a year barely covers my FIOS bill for a month, much less art supplies or additional training

The good news is that I discovered the solution this week to my cohesion problem. I had a large painting from a year ago that was just taking up space. I love the elements of it, but couldn't make it happen overall. It had long ago become a diminishing return on my time invested and this landscape met the chopping block today. I should get 6-8 paintings out of it and I will probably go back and adjust each so they have a good focal point to stand alone successfully. At least they will certainly blend together.

This time, I already had the frames b/c I went on a multi-Michael's binge earlier this year. That means I printed out coupons and went to a number of locations. I bought out all the decently cornered close out frames of a simple wooden style from four or five Michael's. I tell ya, the interstate is good for something - Michael's, Petsmart, and McDonalds are at most exits.

These days in this economy, small pieces are a great way to begin or expand an art collection. They fit in homes so full of windows that only little works can be hung. They flexibly collage together for larger spaces. And if they're not a gift for another, they're a small indulgence for yourself.

Support your local artists this season.

Busy

Busyness is the perfect foil to introspection, but I am craving the introspection! I am currently in seven shows, thus spread pretty thin. Plus, I learned of more shows, one of which is the reward for an award I won over the summer. I have a lot of art to create in the next six weeks.

In the mean time, I've been intensely busy for over a week. Bea had surgery, but before that, her roommate had an old girlfriend come to visit. After much fighting for weeks, they pushed Bea out of the nest and Bea landed here for five days. The last day, she had a scheduled surgery for gall bladder removal. She was doing fine after. I tended her every step of the way. We'd planned it before a weekend I was not to have my son, but his father went to our hometown to help his mother with pacemaker surgery. He's still not back, so J had to go to Bea's for the weekend and her recovery. For once, I think TG for xbox.

Bea and her roommate have been best buddies for several years, but I guess they feed each other's drama. When it was time for the roommate to come back home after Bea's surgery and after a few days with her visitor, she claimed that the visitor missed her plane, was then on standby, and was then scheduled for the next day. Bea didn't seem to want J and I there for her roommate's return, her saying I was bored and restless - as I calmly laid on the bed watching TV - her making excuses and strangely putting words in my mouth, so I calmly began to pack to go home. Bea went off the deep end, as she is wont to do, and she carried my heavy art crate and a TV down the stairs in reaction. I guess it is self-injury as a justified response.

You can't help ignorance. Prior to that, she'd stuffed the trash full and got it ready to haul. She'd also fed/watered/let out her very large dog and stripped/remade her bed. The day before, she'd carried the TV upstairs. People who think being tough in such circumstances truly disgust me. She'd insisted she didn't need help and I was letting her have her way and leave, but I had no idea she'd go off the deep end doing stupid shit.

After I left, I received over a dozen texts. I was driving and had to ignore them at first, but I seriously resented the implication that I had not taken great care of her. She was hysterical. She also told me she peeled off one of her stomach bandages, a large patch b/c she'd experienced post-surgical bleeding. In a subsequent call, I tried to tell her that she's being crazy for attention, but she would not let me speak.

Next thing I know, she's overheated her food in the kitchen, dropped the plate, then fell on the juices. And that she's bleeding from the belly button incision from which she'd removed the bandage. And that she threw up with a little blood in it. And that her roommate and her visitor were taking her to the ER.

All of this, mind you, was in the absence of perc.ocet. She didn't like how it affected her, but the alternative has been ridiculous.

However, I am not falling for it. I'd planned to go back during the school day tomorrow. I was the perfect nurse. I will not feel bad about the care I gave or for leaving when she was pushing us out the door. She complained that I left too easily. I will complain that the plays games too easily. It wasn't the first time she put words in my mouth.

One of my responses to her texts was, "Drama." It felt so good to type... Not much longer.

Wish I could craft a joke about this...

but the straight truth is just so damned good.

J's Interim grades came out recently. He has A's in English (his nemesis, or the teacher was, last year), Science, Strings, PE, and History. He has A- in Shop, and a B in Math.

Take that, you fucked up litigious ex-husband. Add to that, you fucked up litigious ex-husband, it's all in Honors classes.

Once again, I am vindicated. And I'm doing a happy dance over my son's success.

I'm crazy, but not that crazy

When filling out eH/GHarmony, one has a number of chances to fill in the blank. Sometimes people will put, say, physical fitness in all the following categories:
The one thing I am most passionate about:
The most important thing I am looking for in a person is:
The three things which I am most thankful for:
The things I can't live without are:
The first thing people notice about me:
Some additional information I want you to know:

I want to say to them that I kinda got it after the first mention, but their profile got archived too quickly for that, because under Cricket's Gay Harmony's fictional heading, "Things I loathe," redundancy is right at the top.

This lady, however, didn't mention it twice and I give her kudos for that.

The things I can't live without are:
    * My Beloved Pets Ashes

Why?

I have stayed with Bea for any number of reasons.

I want to show her that there are honest people in the world who respect fidelity and uphold their vows.

I want to provide her with the comfort and security she deserves.

Because she does have a good heart under all this baggage, I want to mentor her to be her better self. I am not trying to change her, but I want her to better realize her potential and that of her son and her millions of dollars.

I want her to realize her dreams of travel and to know what it means to have a finer life.

I'll admit that I want her to turn some corner and decide that I am worth the financial investment, in addition to that of time and energy, so that I can be provided for the way I deserve. She's done such with others; she will again, besides with just her family, b/c she does provide for them.

And I do love her. Most days.

Something is especially strange, though. Bea acts as if she has no power and that I hold all the cards. She resents my schedule which revolves around painting dropping off, picking up, Openings, volunteering, meetings, and, last but not least, actually finding time to go outside and paint. I have curtailed so much on her behalf, especially when relating to weekend paint outs and workshops.

As it really stands, though, Bea holds all the cards. She dictates everything. My demands might be according to a time and date, but hers are pervasive of everything else. I remember reading an advice column long ago where someone complained of the elderly aunt, who complained that nobody listened to her. The columnist pointed out that the aunt was who was actually in charge b/c everyone hopped to it around her. I spoke of this with Bea and she absolutely disagreed, but all her rules make me hop and there's an imbalance of power.

Eventually, I need to talk about my lack of desire for sex and to figure out if it is circumstantial or hormonal.

I'm through for now. Of course, there's more, but I'm working over at the Harmonies this evening before Just Desserts comes on!

Trust

This is a multi-faceted concept.

Bea's ghetto upbringing included one trustworthy woman - her father's mother. Her mother and three sisters are cheating, conniving, catting, untrustworthy versions of whores, as is every woman she's ever dated. Once she came into her money, her lack of confidence in this area only grew, but at least she was generous back then.

For these reasons and her unresolved baggage, I have given her some serious latitude. I think she has finally come to trust me and I want her to know that I am breaking up with her for her, not someone else. To clarify, it'll be when I think the time is right.

As far as the money goes, she had given an ATM card to remove thousands a day to her previous partner. Then, her generosity knew no bounds. With me, her generosity knows bounds very well; she makes promises that she will not keep. I have caught her in lies about fake orders and appointments, stuff that didn't need to be offered then lied about. Last year, she promised me a car and house. Now that she's up here, she's talking house again, but I refuse to bite, b/c I do not want my hopes up or to trust her. Further, she does not see anything wrong with her behavior.

Thinking herself generous toward me, she does strange things and plans trips far and wide, then brings no (or limited amount) cards and little cash. Even though we are pretty frugal, we quickly run out of money (once with her two aunts aboard), and I rob Peter to pay Paul to get us out of the jam, then she pays me back exactly the $113 she borrowed to feed her aunts. I shake my head on this. My friends think she has no money.

Same happened for my surprise birthday trip to Vegas recently. She brought little cash and I have no clue about cards b/c I HAD to hold my tongue to not explode b/c I had made one request ahead of time - to have enough money and not go hungry. Of course, we had one meal the last two days on a five day trip that overall actually had few costs, b/c we were frugal with gambling. Who the hell goes to gambling city and is an avid gambler and brings no money? I did have a great birthday, but the rest was pretty meh.

I don't get her. I ask little and get little. Maybe it's my fault.

So now you can see reasons I don't trust her. She is erratic and lacks logic. She swings and I never know where she'll land. Sometimes, though, her lack of trust lands her here. On my computer. In my computer. On my Internet.

I'll admit that part of the reason I didn't come here was my fear of her finding this blog. Now I've change the setting so that no history is saved.

I abhor leaving her here alone, but I do to show trust, then she violates it. You'd think I'd learn. Sometimes I leave home for art things. Whatever. Sometimes she's here for the weekend and I have to go.

In the past, she has looked through all my photos and documents. That was a while back, but one document haunted her and several months ago I had to face that music. Thinking health stuff, I maintained a list of the people I'd slept with, although the document wasn't labeled as such. She began quizzing me on it and I honestly.could.not.find.it. Regardless, the list of my past should not matter to her. Not one iota. However, that fire was lit and I try to keep her away from my computer with a password, but changing user, etc is hard to do on the fly sometimes without looking like you actually have something to cover up.

Generally, I log off all my accounts, even when on my own. I now have a fear of falling in the shower or getting in an auto accident and having my life exposed. I feel such Big Sister mortality now when surfing the Internet.

One day, I left in a rush and forgot to log out of my email. She went through it all. I used to keep everything, sort of as a personal record, but I have since deleted it all. She was particularly incensed about messages from Lyd, who is still a friend. This messages were from long ago and none of Bea's business.

Bea drives me crazy.

She also checks my phone for calls and texts. Over the summer, she found a text to Lyd saying, "next it'll be your hands." For the love of god! This brought days of fighting b/c I could not recall the context. Bea wanted me to do the blind, incriminating phone call thing where she listened in on a conversation where someone would potentially be set up. She'd demanded it before and I always refused. Sheesh, I'm not in HS!

So after about four days, as I was taking a shower, I touched my face and remembered the context. Lyd had traveled to a wedding. She was drunk and texted me that her nose was numb. Then the next text was her face being numb. And I figured it was radiating out and it'd be her hands next. Bea was officially foiled in her idea that I was having text sex, which I didn't even know existed.

You can tell how my life is with Bea. I am always looking over my shoulder and I could honestly do this much better if I were being rewarded somehow. Further, I can see how being with a person like this would cause someone to cheat. But I will not cheat. I will just go away, sooner rather than later.

Hence, my Gay Harmony dabbling to see if there are people like me out there. People who are not cheaters. People with culture. People with education. People with goals. People taking car of their own baggage. People who evolve.

Okay, one final thing. Bea still very much wants a baby and she thinks I'm a stellar mother and she wants to have it with me. She has it stuck in her head that I am over the diaper thing, but I actually fear getting close to a child who is whisk away haphazardly. I finally had the opportunity to relay this recently. I hope she is stewing over it. She has the white picket fence goal, but has the ghetto basis, so she hasn't a clue how to get what she wants. I could give her the white picket fence mentality, but I could not change her to embrace it. She's better at gazing in the window.

Who would have thought six years ago when I began this blog that a lesbian would want so desperately to have a baby with me? And tell me often? And that I'd be so ambivalent about the prospect? That I'd actually be very far away from it? That it skeeves me out to learn over the weekend that she's actually taking prenatal vitamins?

PS - she texted as I was finishing up. Just checked it. She asked if she could live here for a while if she needed a place to stay before she found another place to stay.

It makes my head explode.

I couldn't give an answer; I needed to discuss the circumstances. She refused, saying she just wanted an answer. Again, I am not in HS.

Harmony

Last week, in order to confuse myself further with additional email addresses and passwords, I started up a new set to 1) take over where Bloglines left off and 2) take over where I already had a hetero e-Harmony subscription.

In my quest to figure out if there are people like me, as my therapist insists, I decided to do the gay e-Harmony, which I do not know the official name, so I call it Gay Harmony. It suits.

I was lucky to do it before their (meaning eH AND GH, although GH doesn't get the media exposure, of course) collective 10 days free. Not so much with the idea of meeting anyone, I have been in the stilted, laborious GH conversation mode with two women. At the "reduced" rate of $32/mo, I don't see me really joining, unless desperation sets in later. However, it would be handy to have access to their pictures!

Lest anyone think I'm shopping, I guess I am...in a way. I am mostly seeking affirmation that people like me exist - educated, articulate, art geeks who like to drink Sam Adams and watch Bravo on TV and never, ever watch a Lifetime movie. This is my dream and it could be a he or a she. It is not a particularly dreamy dream, but I'm not the flashy sort. I am not looking to substitute anyone with Bea and I would actually be upset if this worked ahead of my time line. However, over the weekend, it struck me for the first time how it would feel to hurt Bea, b/c I do make her happy. Of course, fear of anyone's hurt is no reason to stay in a relationship, but it is a consideration. Further, I wouldn't want to taint any new relationship with an overlap or vestiges from an old. Read below and you'll see how fair-minded I really am.

Both eH and GH use a personality profile. Because I haven't yet found BiH (BiHarmony for us bisexuals), I will take the results of eH and GH to heart, mostly b/c there's no difference between the two personality tests! We are not, I repeat not, worlds apart, even when a religious-based dating site has to accommodate *those* people. Either that or their expert psychologist is too lazy to create a new test.

I absolutely love some sections of the GH/eH report. I'll include them here for my own edification, but I'll share, too:
~~~~~
A General Description of How You Interact with Others

You are important. So are other people, especially if they are in trouble. You have a tender heart, but you know how to establish and keep personal boundaries. You are empathetic and compassionate, but you also believe that it's best if people solve their own problems and learn to take care of themselves, if they are able.

You are deeply moved by the needs of others, but you know that if you don't take good care of yourself, you'll wind up being of no use to anyone. So yours is a thoughtful compassion. You strive to be fair and sensible, taking care of others while also taking care of yourself.

When someone really is in trouble, you like to collaborate with them toward a solution; they do their part, you do yours. You consider carefully, and respond in a sensible way; they do their part, and together you move through the difficulty.

You seldom act impulsively; rather, when a problem arises, you take your time to think through the situation. This contemplative quality usually means that you'll arrive at a diplomatic solution, one that's fair for the other person and also fair to you. It's frequently a win/win situation.

A General Description of How You Approach New Information and Experiences

You think like an artist. Or better, you SEE like an artist. While most people look at life's straight lines, its height and depth and width, you're bending the lines with your imagination and turning black and white into shades of blue and yellow. And in conversations at work or with your friends you want to ask, "Do you see what I see?" A few might, most don't, but you've piqued everyone's curiosity with your own original and inventive ways of thinking.

You can, if you must, think in conventional ways. But left on your own, you'll usually opt for the eccentric or avant-garde; in fact you're usually bored with what everyone else is comfortable with. You learn from reading, talking, watching people and other fauna and flora, and simply sitting in the soft chair of your mind and wondering how people would learn how to count if they could only use uneven numbers. You are out in front of conventional ideas, bravely originally defining true and false, right and wrong, the good, the bad and the ugly.

A General Description of Your Reactivity

In some ways, you've got the best of emotional worlds. When emotions rise up from inside you or are brought forth from a conversation by a friend, you know how to engage them. You deal with sadness, fear, joy, anger - whatever comes up - in ways that are perceptive and flexible. You can adapt to whatever level of emotion is appropriate to the moment. At other times, you are able to cope with your emotions in a more reserved manner. Because you are aware of what does and does not make emotional sense in a particular situation, you will decide when it is an appropriate time to express your emotions and when it would be best to keep them to yourself.

All of this gives you a rich emotional life. You are free to express your passions about certain subjects with appropriate people. But you are also emotionally adaptable; if the conversation needs to be more cerebral, you'll keep it "in your head" and talk calmly through whatever issue is on the table. This emotional awareness serves you well. You seldom get in over your head, either by opening up to the wrong person or by triggering in someone else's emotions they may not be able to deal with.

A General Description of How You Interact with Others

When you take on a task at work or at home, you are reliable; you get the job done. In an organized way, you define the goal, lay out a plan, figure how long the task will take, and get to work "solid and dependable you".

But and this is important you're not a slave to the plan. You're committed to it, but not chained to it; the connection is more casual and informal. You know that sometimes "the best laid plans" fall off the tracks; when this happens, you clean up the train wreck and start over, undeterred.

Though not happening often, when plans change, you're okay with it. In fact, sometimes you change the plan. It's too nice of a Saturday to finish organizing the garage. Let's go for a bike ride instead. True, the next rainy Saturday will likely find you back in the garage, but for now the work can wait.

What an interesting combination of qualities in you're organized, but casual; solid, but compliant; and dependable, but informal. At home and at work, people know they can rely on you. You take great satisfaction in knowing that people think of you as disciplined and responsible, but you also know that you have something of a free spirit in you, and when this spirit moves you, off you go, following the impulse of the moment. You are rightly proud of your work ethic, but you also enjoy your willingness to lay the tools down, crank up the music and play like a child.

~~~~~

That's enough for now. Have to upload paintings to my other blog. Rough life.

Just to clarify

There was a spell where I was driven to blog daily. It was close to a year and it seriously burned me out. I regret it all.

I am attempting to blog routinely again. I am not trying to do so daily. But here I am, pretty much daily. It's great to have some blogging excitement again.

Realized yesterday that I sold a painting. It's in an exhibit at a garden center/manor house; the show hung in late August and I couldn't attend the Opening a few weeks ago, so I had not seen it on site and don't know when it sold. This pastel has a terrible placement round a corner, in the dark, above a tall, tall door - if I put my hand up, I could not touch the frame's bottom. I don't know how anyone could have seen it, much less wanted to buy it.

Sometimes, I really don't want to sell my babies. This is one of them. It is a beautiful piece.

For a year, I have averaged selling a painting a month. It's a good average, very respectable in this market. Considering that I'd only began showing months before that, it's a phenomenal feat. Creating and displaying art are the most encouraging and personal things I have in my life. Although this blog rates very highly over the long haul.

Accurate and timely

With the recent law suit crap, I felt the need to document many things. The Discovery I had to fill out for ex's lawyer was comprehensive. Although I do not think ex is necessarily a bad father, I do think I am a better mother.

There are many examples, but being on top of school activities is one. If you want to know what's going on at a school, or perhaps you want to compare schools, get on their email notification systems - even at upper levels of schools beyond your child's, at the district, board, etc. News comes to you. It's easy. Plus there are online sites for seeing their assignments.

My son's school is not the greatest in this incredibly great school district and I was royally angry we are assigned to this one miles father away than the closest one, but I am here to say they communicate so incredibly well. The other school, for which I get their emails, is so sporadic.

Ex has been too ignorant to figure any of this out. I even did subscribed for the school J would have attended near ex's house if that had happened.

Besides volunteering, football games, field days, etc, they give heads up about sex ed information reading/viewing/content. When J was in the fifth grade, I looked at all the materials and videos for both the fifth and sixth grades. Soon will be the same for Middle School.

I used issues like these to demonstrate that, contrary to the Discovery's probing wanting to indicate, I am not the wrong parent for a pubescent boy to have.

Last night I used it as a learning opportunity with J. I told him I'd be going 30 minutes early to back to school night, so he'd need to inform his father to occupy him there or to come by and get him after I leave. J already knew about the nature of the talk/video, because they communicate well with the students, too.

During our talk, he was leaning against me, but facing the other way, so I took that vantage (animals like these don't want direct eye contact!) to my advantage. It was the same when we'd have our best talks while he was a preschooler in the back seat of the car.

I informed J that I'd seen the family (sex) ed for his 5th/6th grade stuff, but he had not known. I told him that I didn't have any problems with what they were teaching, so I didn't want to interject into the experience for him. I told him I'd wished they'd gone farther, beyond the gamete beginning and the STD ending, wishing they'd touched on the act of sex more, but I figured they knew what they were doing.

I also said I figure they know what they're doing this year, too, but I need to see the stuff. I know some parents have trouble with it and opt out. Our Mor.mon neighbor, Norma, is this way with her nearly 15yo son.

Norma has discussed it many times with me. I told J that, for example, I thought they would be covering masturbation. Norma and her church believe that masturbation is wrong b/c if you can please yourself so well, your spouse will never be able to. Chime in with me: it undermines the tenants of a healthy and successful marriage.

Well, I will admit again that I did live that scenario. Of course, it was merely one issue with ex; he preferred his own morning pipe cleaning routine with beautiful 2-D harlots on the computer to anything relating to his 3-D wife. Without calling out his father, I told J all of this. I also said there's room for a middle ground in which it all can be healthy.

His father could never have such a talk and I am documenting mine here for future needs...if need be. My years of navel gazing have actually done me well. I had many things I had to prove with the lawsuit and it scared off his crack legal team. I do not know if ex read the stuff I'd included in my Discovery, but I would have if tables were turned. And then he would know that, at the very least, one can subscribe to email notifications from one's kid's school in order to be a better parent.


After the fact: they didn't show a video, but they had the teacher's manual available. Geez, it was the same as what I read for the fifth grade. They don't get to the juicy stuff until HS, but this year they did bring a contraception chapter into the eighth grade, although nothing else in the manual changed. I guess they figure that kids will figure out the mechanics if they tell them the other details. It makes me kinda laugh.

This blog is a confessional

A while back, I received one of those blogger awards that is presented from one blogger to another. It felt nice to be somehow included in the art blogging community.

Although I did pass it along to art bloggers I really admire and had followed for some time, I wondered what on my blog deserved the glowing description this mystery blogger gave. Off to the page meter I went and I found the source of my kudos: a series of pictures and posts I did about a famous blogger and workshop instructor I'd had.

Not a one of my paintings was even viewed!

He knew immediately

Last night, J was in his room and heard canned music coming from my office.

He called out, "Whose card is it?"

I think he's on to me.

BTW, it was for his cousin's birthday. I'm a sucker for some Marvin Gaye or KC in a greeting card.

Getting reacquainted

When I blogged for so long, my specific hub (or whatever) unfortunately would not allow blogging in advance for timed blog release. (Way back, Ron Southern explained it to me; it appears he passed over the summer and I have huge regrets that I wasn't able to communicate with him toward the end.)

My blogger also wouldn't allow for the email sending of blog entries. Heavens knows, that was before people did mobile blogging to any degree, so there are new levels of communication since then.

Now, I am hoping for emails and advanced blogging; this is my test.

I am lucky that my art blog allows for advanced composing and I use that often; it's been almost two years running over there and I blog once or twice a week at least. If I know you, I don't mind you checking it out.Often, I will make an entry about when a show opens and when the reception is, and then at the same time I will cut and paste to craft a post about when it ends. Sometimes that second entry is my personal reminder to go pick my paintings up! Very nice, I keep a number of entries in the hopper, waiting to be released.

Although yesterday Blogger gave me a lot of error messages as I traversed the site, it never altogether prevented anything, as it used to do. I am hoping it no longer prevents me from posting the emailed and timed ways I have mentioned. When it boils down to it, I have immensely appreciated having Blogger in my life.

As an additional note, I appreciated Bloglines, too. Google Reader isn't impressing me, so I sure would appreciate hearing of some alternatives or at least some tips. Funny, Bloglines just put on their website that the end is shifted from October 1 to November 1. I hate when my procrastinating is one upped somehow!

Edit:
One: it appears to have worked! Posting via email! Who else knew?

Two: between posting yesterday and today, my Feedburner dropped by 1/3. Either folks didn't want to hear from me again or they didn't like what I said. Or Feedburner continues to be psychotic. Regardless, it's time I write. There's a ton of stuff I cannot say on an art blog!

Three: I often think of the people in the computer and have for a long time. I have an awful habit of walking away from wonderful friends when I need to otherwise move on. I guess that's fodder for the future. I have developed a new island. I am no longer on (Secondary) Infertility Island, but I have not successfully entered the mainstream again yet. Even though I don't often get upset about it, I still cringe.

Been months

I've been trying for access to this blog for a long while. I finally stumbled upon the *right* help question at Google, as I'd been going in circles. My six year anniversary of blogging is coming up in a few weeks, but the real press this time was Bloglines shutting down in a few days and me reading thousands of blog entries recently.

Hello my people.

My Bloglines, which I had not checked in a few years, actually has 45 saved Chez Miscarriage posts, ending in 2005. What a treasure.

Life is going. From April until September, it was the hardest time I had ever had in my life. Ex tried to win custody of J, who just turned 13 this month and strangely in his pubescent haze suddenly has a say about custody - this after he purposefully ditch the sixth grade and had a frenzied and blamed mother as a result. I don't think ex expected me to fight, but I did. The first few months were on my own. I even submitted close to 400 pages of discovery. After that, Bea found me a lawyer who'd do it on the cheap. I worried about his thoroughness, although he did better after I politely jacked him up. Ex finally dropped the suit this month, supposedly, when J said he wanted to live with me. In my opinion, he actually dropped the suit after they contemplated the idea of me having a lawyer.

I think his goal was to no longer have to pay me.

Only a few in my life knew. Bea was helpful in some degree, although I always questioned why she couldn't just pay for me a real lawyer. This reduced rate guy ($2500 for all but discovery through trial) was actually more expensive than paying someone $300/hour or a $1500 retainer.

She has moved closer and is only about 30 minutes away as of this month. I'm still getting used to it, but parts are nice - quick dinner/movie, picking up or dropping off art in her area, etc.

I went to my hometown in August. My father, who is still cheap as ever and never offered me a cent in the lawsuit, scheduled a clean up date for my grandmother's house; she's in a nursing home and it's been sitting. All that was left was going to Good Will, so I picked up some little china pieces I wouldn't have otherwise gotten. It was the first time I'd seen my sister or father since my grandfather's death four years ago.

Overall, things went well, despite the personalities involved, mine included. What it reminded me of was a positive part of my upbringing. For example, it takes all I have not to correct Bea's Ghetto "English" in her speech and writing. Now I remember why. My father isn't wealthy or upper crust (they do very well now, though), but he has a being around him that I also have. It isn't a snottiness, but it is a sense of propriety that definitely comes through in my writing. He spoke of trying to get his community college students to speak Business English and I guess he's in an appropriate environment to make that demand. I am not. I couldn't get Bea to speak, write, or dress in a genteel fashion if I tried. And I have, just a little.

She took offense over a year ago when I asked her to not wear t-shirts with writing across her big boobs around me. I was trying to politely guide her into stepping up her wardrobe, but she then just wore plain t-shirts instead. In the last six months, she went back to dressing with writing across her large chest. At least that is usually spelled right. I wish she weren't incapable of dressing nicely, but that is merely a symptom.

Many in my life doubt her money and she sure doesn't pony up for me. However, she is so frugal, she doesn't pony up for herself either.

So, I as thinking in terms of looking for an outlet for educated and genteel folk so I can feed that side of me, because my ever loving therapist swears they're out there waiting for me for life and love. You'd think Art would do that for me, as I am very active in the Arts, but I do not have connections in the next level of Arts and most of what I do is with other artists, not collectors.

I am in that land between the wealthy/educated/genteel and the laid back/curse-filled/redneck, my feet in each camp, although the second camp is more likely to accept me. Of course, I accept both sides fully, I just have been reminded where I came from and it doesn't seem like that bad of a place. I would like to step myself up and join the first camp in my own right. And maybe I would feel comfortable going back to my roots. Not to offend anyone from any camp, but I realize I've been on a slide.

Aren't you lucky to have such a wordy piece of navel gazing as my first post in seven months? I hope I'm back.

Happy Winter

Have you dug out of the snow yet? We still have plenty of the parking lot mountains, but it's pretty easy to drive.

Hope you all are doing well. I think of you so often.

For those of you who don't read Facebook or even if you do, I can be more honest here! Hurrah for anonymity or at least the guise of it!

My art is going very well. I had a good number of sales over the last few months as well as some awards. Both concepts are mind-boggling, considering I just began my "Let's Turn Professional" journey a year ago. I didn't anticipate that I would come this far this fast, but I have worked very hard on the business of art. I should probably paint even more, but I work on showing, volunteering, and doing some contests.

According to his teachers during our meeting last week, puberty hit J full force during school's second quarter. Yeah, it was that specific. I was actually glad to hear it wasn't all just him hating on me. I absolutely love him hating on others, too. heh

You may remember he had an ADHD battery done four, count 'em, four years ago. J isn't hyper; he's the inattentive version. I chose the wrong child psychiatrist, who didn't believe in ADHD, and ex took that morsel and ran. So now we're paying. Now, though, J's teachers strongly support his getting help for his inattention and I'd been trying to find a good-to-premier child psychiatrist for a while. Then I tried to just find one on ex's plan. (Why do they not return phone calls?) Now I've got an appt with a ped who specializes in it. Whatever. Whomever. He comes recommended.

Once the teachers were involved, ex hopped on board, as absolutely reluctant as he's been with me for years. It's been harder with J, but I told him what's happening isn't working, so we're going to try something else. If it doesn't work, then fine. I didn't elaborate on how hard it is to get the right med at the right dosage. Alas. Of course when I told him I would be taking him whether he wanted to or not, he said he would not go and it's just like my philosophy about babies and kids being victims of the medical system, captive audiences to get treatments they don't want. He's too smart for his britches. Somehow, I was able to tap dance out of that one.

We're all excited about middle school around here. He's chosen strings orchestra as one of his electives. As his other, he's chosen shop. Ex and I find that funny and odd, but it's fine with me, as long as he gets it out of his system by the time college prep classes are available. I figure it's a Scouting influence. Speaking of which, he's doing well in Scouts. It's perhaps his favorite thing, but as with everything else, he's only so motivated. I have to stay on him for his obligations, but he generally comes through in the end.

My relationship is on track to be the grandest roller coaster ride of all time, complete with stomach churns and screams. I often wish one of us would get off the pot and do the breaking up, but we don't. We love each other and get along well, except when we don't. I still think she's cheap -with me - and I'm still sick of what she continues to give others. Further, her life's dramas spill over into mine; I can request to not hear about such, but still do and then I can't shake it and how it all influences us. Of late, the stress is getting to me and making me less than charming in the other areas in my life. I don't like my cortisol levels to maintain such a high level that I am a royal bitch all the time. It's begun to affect me physically. Her phone was out all last week and I felt a blissful measure of peace.

Another alas.

Tell me about all your alas-es.