Saturday, May 28, 2011

there is no place like home

Houston is heating up for the summer.  It happens fast, like someone opening the glory hole at a glass blower's.  One day it's a balmy 72 degrees and the next:  95 and sucking the air out of you.  Then we all say: Why do we live here???  I think the answer is habit.  We all visit places where the weather is fine, but then we come home and rationalize.  I count it on my fingers:

October through May....IF we are lucky....that is eight months of good weather, right? No snow, no ice.  Well once in a while.  And if I'm honest it's usually November through the first half of May for good weather.  And once in a while, Christmas is scorching.  And no place is perfect.  We do have the occasional hurricane. 

But we stay and we come back because of family and friends and habit.  This is where we dug in and got comfortable.  There is no place like home.  There is no place like home.  There is no place like home.

Peace and coolness.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Looking after mom.

Back in California visiting what my mother calls the "loony bin, you know the one that flew over the cuckoo's nest"  and she knows it well.  She resides there in the loony bin with Lewy Body Dementia....not regular dementia or Alzheimer's but the really loopy one complete with hallucinations and delusions.  Most of the people in her very assisted living abode have various forms of dementia and many have Alzheimer's. Most do not carry on conversations.  My mother like to talk. But not to them.  And worry about what people think ....but mostly about what they are thinking about her.  I believe this comes under the gray umbrella of paranoia.  She has been in this facility for the past 26 months.  And I visit 2000 miles one way and 2000 miles back once a month for a week or a little more.

I would like to think that I am a caring person....I guess I am....but honestly there is some guilt that drives the plane here every month.  And that need to "please your mother".  Much as we love our mothers, there is always that tone of voice, that can bring us to our knees.  In my case it's " GAaaailllll."  my name drawn out in long and judgemental syllables.  And she worries about me.  And that is so sweet, so how can I bitch and complain.  Well, for one thing she's not reading my blog, so that's how.

Peace Peace .....please, Peace.

swamp, 55" x 29"

in progress

flying fish, 55" x 29"

eye with a view

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I am living and painting in the little town of Houston. A far way from my San Francisco beginnings. I paint what I see of the human condition, be it human, animal or object. The glimmer of humor, pathos, and spirit in so much of what I see is the basis of what I paint.


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