My pal Chris Trottier gifted me a painting which i quite adore. Its stashed in a locker faraway so i share a poorly photographed facsimile here so i can enjoy from time to time.
Made with (I suspect) acrylic on canvas board, approx 30cm x 20cm.
Pondering the difference…
Pondering the difference
Between letting go and giving up
When I need something
to hold onto
Doing “self-care”
but
I get so wiped out
Waiting for the current
to drive me away
Check the expectations of others –
Where do I hide these feelings?
Why was she so mean?
So tired of being tired each day
Made a list of happy times
Things I’d like in past times
Is this useful or a trap?
So made a list of things to do
When feeling “this”
But find I’m bored
And reminisce simply that I’m blue
Acknowledgment of art and pain
Respect and fellowship
Simply to be loved and adored
“Is that too much to ask?”
Mom’s Foreign Travel Treasures (Happy 75th Birthday)
Oh Mom, there are so many thing to tell you about this last year… the short is: for the first time in a loooong time, i have hope, optimism and a bit of peace.
Last year included a trip to Logan to deal with the rest of your items including the missing Agatha Christie books (still missing), green glass (duly distributed) and various bins of letters, treasures and papers. Long weeks at Anders’ place sorting it all as best as possible. Had hoped to scan, inventory etc everything but gave, as you’d say, “a lick and a promise”.
Assembled boxes for sons, brothers, and Lonnie Gee, Doug and Dan et al to spread memories around the world. Learned so many things about you! Flight attendant job applications, letters from Grandpa and Lorayne, records from your college days (so many colleges), oh made office supply kits for the Grandkids, and loaded up all your stationery/letterhead/letraset/postcards stash for me. And using it all too.
Also (almooooosssstttt) finished dealing with the conundrums with Service Canada (a true bureaucratic nightmare of nonsense) and your headstone should be arriving anyday from India (thans Uncle Bob) – i designed it and am so proud to do so. Also your ashes are well on their way around the world with stops in Pacifica, Logan, North Van, Pe ELL, Olympia, Nusa Ceningan, Sarpsborg and so on. Anders did a great job getting little vials filled up.
Big news: your wedding dress is getting altered and put into service for dear Ryoko (you’d love her) and, i ordered (finally!) my own kilt. Royal Stewart with Cape, formal sporran, Prince Charlie jacket and socks etc. April 20-21 will keep your ashes with me to feel your energy in some weird (totally not macabre way).
No doubt this week is tough every year as the anniversary of Dad’s death/funeral and your birthday all at once. So i write and make documentary art. So much more to tell you but must be careful of my energy and screen time.
So, in doing this all, i did photo-inventory many of your travel treasures. Sharing here to keep your story alive.
Speaking of “your story”, got your blog and Flickr and Ancestry all backed up. Learned a lot about impermanence of the internet. Frustrating as i want to be meticulous but also realize perfection is entirely overrated.
On to the treasures.
Fondly, davey
Items, assembled: friendly cards (featuring typewriters)
These ain’t cards for business, these are strictly pleasure for those i meet and/or call upon. It’s a club, or a confederation of associated renegades of sorts.
This batch are printed on water colour paper via inkjet, hand cut (lovingly) and inky stamped (stamps assorted).
The photos featured include: making cards, writing letters and postcards, materials used for making such – including watercolours, typewriters, postcards, scissors, pens, stamps and stationery. It’s all very recursive – or #meta – so to speak.
Post’d: postcard fronts, Feb. 2018, vol. 1
While i love sending postcards, i also love the postcards themselves – each has its own artist story behind and all of that. Yet postcards spending their infinity in a shoebox without fulfilling their destiny is rather sad. As such, i compromise by snapping a quick shot of the front before dropping into the time/space portal wormhole to intended (and thrilled no doubt) recipient.
This batch was scribbled upon in Feb. 2018 in Ubud, Indonesia upon postcards acquired from various Asian locales (including museums with European paintings). 1st in a series for archival purposes, as well as ephemeral amusement.
Europa (unfinished) / sketches and remixes – vol. 3
In 2005, i wandered Europa (Netherlands, Belgium, France, Spain, Portugal) by train, car and tram. Along the way, i wrote an extensive cycle of poetry, and completed a solid dozen or so paintings (acrylic, watercolour and charcoal) – some of which you may have seen along the way.
I also started a load of other pieces which haven’t had a day in the easel yet — mostly because i like to let art ferment but also because i can never decide which medium to use to “finish” these. Acrylics were more exciting in the white hot moment of creating en plein, watercolour teases my rather clumsy and aggressive touch and i am tempted to use simple black ink and make something colour-able by kids and adults. Not sure how to go about this as its not a technique i am polished at (yet) but these do need a life beyond a shoebox.
Maybe you kind folks and artists can offer a word of advice or idea?
Regardless, they are nowhere near and as such, lonely and sad. So, here are rough drafts in ragged spontaneity and various forms and mediums.
This is Vol. 3 of a few (last one i think), pardon repeats and redundancies.
bonus: another version of Fishing Boats near cliffs in Salema, Portugal. copied and coloured
Rainy Mystery Alley (with Marty)
Analog loops, guitars, feedback and poetry about impossible alleys, 8 seat bars, villages with book shops, woolen scarves, Fado, Kathmandu mud, and umbrellas thwarting tactility.
Made by “Thorvald and Thurston” in a Provo basement, 2018
Healing: mementos of pedicures
These days – what with the Fibro and CFS/M.E. etc. – slowing me down, I find activities to get me out of the house which requires doing not much but sitting.
While pedicures may not seem like a medical therapy, and they’re certainly not, self-care is important part of my healing journey.
Indeed, when feeling frustrated and early days of the illness, I made a list of things I can do which involves sitting down, but get me out of the house, and leave me with a feeling of satisfaction. These include making scrapbooks, seen matinee movies, sitting in parks under a tree, getting my beard professionally trimmed rather than chopping at it myself, as well as pedicures.
As such, on all my healing journey is, I find pedicure places to massage and soothe my feet, trim up my nails, and leave with some colour on them. This often elicits a strange response from the practitioners as painted toes aren’t as common for men as they are for women certainly, but I find a practice quite enjoyable. In some cases, I paint my toes the colour of a local flag or other traditional local schemes, otherwise I stick to shades of blue and green.
For the record: Indonesia and Thailand definitely have the best pedicure practitioners (is that a thing?), But I’m also eager to try pedicures in Vietnam as many manicurists in the USA, come from Vietnam.
In India especially, they thought my practice of painting toes was very strange, as such i did myself (very poorly yet joyfully nonetheless). In Nepal, they were low on supplies. Once or twice, i enjoyed a pedicure whilst at sea.
I first started this practice at the advice of a lady who took me for a pedicure in Vancouver before going to Jamaica the first time at that time, I had Jamaican flag painted on my big toes (not sure i have a photo…).
Sometimes i take photos of my toes, not all the time, here are some of mah big ole ugly feets. Sometimes i forget and just take snap of the old colour before replacing.
No annotations since i don’t expect anyone will look or care, i mean really, its just photos of my feet.
Batch of friendship cards, with postal life and typewriters
New batch of friendship cards made / sorta meta as the snaps are (mostly) all of making cards &/or tools used to do so (+ inky stamps to taste).
Artifact: Resume of Lorne H. Olson (aka Dr. O)
When going through my late Mom’s archive of documents, ephemera, photos, letters etc, came across this beautifully executed resume for my late Dad. The two were divorced after this time and very different people in general.
This document shows the collaboration from my parents as my Mom’s fingerprints are all over the layout and design. I would thing that this is well before digital desktop publishing but the typefaces and precise layout make me wonder the workflow. Anyhow…
Notably the multi-page dossier took me back to a time when the family was intact, before the rather tumultuous times which followed: Dad is smiling, has a Ed.D (Doctorate of Education which begat his nickname “Dr. O”) to his credit, and was fresh out of a few notable university gigs at Michigan State University (Lansing) and University of British Columbia (Vancouver) after earning his degrees at University of Oregon (Eugene) and BYU (Provo).
I see out last family address and phone number and the names of my brothers which allow me to date-stamp to probably 1981-3.
As it goes, he soon switched careers going into real estate sales (as Mom had recently done) at which he was diligent and successful by most any measure except some emotional categories. He also taught real estate licensing classes relying on his education education.