Joan was sweet enough to bring Bruce to our home, on her way back from Indiana.
Bruce in our home for a visit. Today, tomorrow, and through Easter.
Father, I AM grateful to Thee,
From every shadow I AM free…
Archive for April, 2006
The flame of life eternal
Saturday, April 8th, 2006Way to go, Big Joe
Friday, April 7th, 2006I’m happy to learn my Uncle Joe is home from the hospital. I also read that 95-year-old, legendary coach John Wooden made it home from a recent stay in the hospital, too. Hospitals aren’t very good places to be, unless you have no other choice. I hope I always have another choice.
I took note of the Wooden announcement because I’ve been thinking about something he said. Not sure if I remember it correctly, but his point was that you haven’t failed until you start finding something or someone to blame. I think his message is that you remain on a success track as long as you continue to strive by looking within yourself to correct your own mistakes and deficiencies.
I haven’t gotten to know Uncle Joe as well as some of my other uncles, but he’s always been a great example to me as an innovator, by the way in which he set his goals high, and by never being afraid to learn something he didn’t know how to do. When I think about how he lifted the roof of his bungalow with truck jacks to enlarge his house by adding another story, it nearly blows my mind. All my life I’ve admired how he relied on himself and finished what he started.
Mombo and I were talking about that kind of stick-to-it-and-get-it-done capacity the other night, and how I was still trying to learn it. She said, “You must get that from me.” I disagreed and told her I couldn’t blame anyone else for my own history with unfinished projects, but that I was determined to put the habit behind me one way or another.
I told David today that I have no thought of giving up the goal of finding a niche market for the style I’m currently calling “Legacy Artworks.” Coming up with a name that isn’t already taken has been difficult, and it’s possible I haven’t even begun to solve the equation of how to market this type of illustration. Like most things, I’ll just need to chip away at the challenge. Goodness knows it’s not the only iron I have in the fire this year…
Walkin’ heavy
Thursday, April 6th, 2006Two incidents contributed to a higher level of perceived insecurity here on West Broadway.
The other night, somebody broke into the public library just to steal the loose-change jug at the circulation desk. It had been a well-known, symbolic part of the fundraising drive to build the major expansion toward our home. It was the second time the jug was stolen. After the first time, it was attached to a drawer with cable. The burglars took the drawer, too. The result: library managers have said they won’t put out a third jug.
Yesterday, while Marty was helping me trim back the heavy bushes between the Town House and the CPAs’ building next door, we found a discarded purse. The driver’s license was still in the wallet, but no money. It was hard to tell how long it had been there. It was immediately taken over to the police department. Marty shared a few insights into the behavior of crack addicts that I wished he didn’t have at his age. The result: when Dana had to walk over to the ATM last night after dark, I tagged along and packed heat in downtown Danville for the first time in recent memory.
Five splendid words
Wednesday, April 5th, 2006Bruce mowed his lawn today.
Various & Sundry, part thirty-five
Tuesday, April 4th, 2006— Dana and I had an impromptu dinner with Mombo last night and I took the opportunity to show her my example of “Legacy Art.” I’m starting to wonder if that’s the best terminology for it, but I haven’t come up with anything better. I like the non-specificity, and the wide range of niche markets it could cover. When Seth saw it, he thought the style might appeal to high-end extreme sports devotees. The first example does have an “Indy Jones” visual flavor to it, and that could be appealing to any number of different target audiences—pilots, speed-boaters, racers, sailors, deep-sea anglers, climbers, divers, skiers, eco-trekkers, equestrians—I don’t know, as long as they have some dough and are fascinated enough with the significance of their own exploits to document themselves with an uncommon work of art. I need to define my ideal, well-heeled “mark.” How does “Raiders of the Flossed Mark” sound? Ooh, that was bad. See yesterday’s entry…
— I haven’t mentioned it, but after the events of the weekend, I was stunned when my pal David decided to present me with two unbelievably nice gifts—a pair of early 20th-century British Enfield military firearms, an officer’s revolver and a bolt-action rifle. I still don’t know what to say to him. He must appreciate the portrait that much, so I really shouldn’t joke about it. On my part, it’s a genuine attempt to find an unmet need in the art world, and I’m not going to put the venture aside just because I didn’t set the room on fire with my initial foray into the marketplace. It gave me pleasure to complete my first in the series with my friend as the subject. Now, the next step is to execute the second under the supervision of my great white huntress. That sounds much more provocative than it’ll play out, I’m sure…
— Yes, I really shouldn’t joke about my effort to reposition myself as a commemorative illustrator. Beside the fact that it wouldn’t amount to funny, the objective tends to epitomize everything that’s held me fixated for over a month, which actually turned out to be a rather serious project of self-study and introspective behavior modification. If poking fun at the pursuit would help my evaluation, than I’m all for it, but I’m more inclined to start looking at the lessons learned and assign myself some new action items to preserve my momentum. One of the primary things that came to light was how much doubt and fear I’d allowed to penetrate into my outlook, workstyle, and personal ambitions… mild, perhaps, but insidious nevertheless. That just has to go, and there are still pockets to root out, but at least I’ve developed the sensitivity to identify and counteract such an undesirable emotional undercurrent. It’s been a major source of wasted energy, as was my habit of distracting myself. It’s amazing how many typical trains of thought and everyday diversions seem trivial to me now, or at least unfocused. I’ve known for awhile that the pattern was there, but it took a diligent effort to unwind the nature of the chain reactions and recognize the old ruts for what they are. Once again, I come back happily to Emerson:
“Profligacy consists not in spending years of time or chests of money,—but in spending them off the line of your career. The crime which bankrupts men and states, is, job-work — declining from your main design, to serve a turn here or there. Nothing is beneath you, if it is in the direction of your life: nothing is great or desirable, if it is off from that…”
A regular dose of jocular hilarity
Monday, April 3rd, 2006Leave it to Brendan to turn me on to another droll Webcomic. More power to Wondermark. It makes good on an idea I had a while back about recycling the huge archive of copyright-free, nineteenth-century wood engravings as humorous art. The main reason I never did it? The answer is obvious to me when I read David Malki’s amusing strip.
– sob – I have absolutely NO sense of humor. – blubber – Never did. Never will. – sob –
Tales of the Graybeard Prospector IX
Sunday, April 2nd, 2006• I attended the SCI fundraising banquet with David and Al. It was held at the U of L University Club. There could not have been a way for me to have anticipated the rare atmosphere, nor to have imagined what the unusual niche group of world-traveling hunters and big game enthusiasts would be like. I must say that I was a bit nervous by the time I set up my small display for the silent auction and my prototype commemorative illustration came under continuous scrutiny. I could also feel the observant eyes of my two friends—watchful, but always supportive. I’ve been to a few high-potency political and charitable fundraisers, but I’ve never been to one that so relentlessly milked dollars from the ticket-holders—with separate silent and live auctions, plus raffles of every sort. After a long cocktail lead-in to an impressive gourmet dinner, the expert monetary squeeze of the high-rollers lasted well into the late evening. Participants stuck around as numerous donations of custom firearms, art, jewelry, exotic hunting excursions to New Zealand, and full-blown safaris in Africa went for a fraction of their value. There were times when it seemed as though my offering was about to completely fade into the periphery, but before the evening was over, it drew a flurry of bids. The winner was an avid African hunter, female, gregarious, and rather attractive (at least she seemed to be attracting the attention of more than one distinguished-looking gentleman). My donation went for about a fifth of its declared value, which wasn’t out of character for the event. The final result reinforced Al’s opinion that my concept might have more appeal to women or to the wives of hunters—that it might be positioned best as personalized art appropriate for a gift or tribute. The entire experience gave me much to ponder…
Various & Sundry, part thirty-four
Saturday, April 1st, 2006— Month of March workout totals: Swim-5; Bike-5; Run-5; Lift-9; Yoga-9
— Word arrives from Greystone that Nicholas received his letter of acceptance from Auburn University’s College of Veterinary Medicine—news that makes his uncle and Godfather very proud. This is clearly an extraordinary year for graduates in our Clan. In addition, Caitlan is finishing up at Georgetown, and then she’ll be heading back to Oxford University to begin working on a second degree. Congratulations to both of them!
— Although it rained most of the afternoon yesterday, David, Rick, and I were able to have an enjoyable shooting practice under the range shelter since there was no wind. We alternated with four different antique rifles—the London-made Martini-Henry sporter (to which I’ve completely bonded), a Martini full-military “Long Lever,” a Winchester Model 94 in .30-30, and a Winchester Model 95 in .30-06. For the first time ever, I was able to hit targets at 300 yards with iron sites, despite the difficulty of contrasting recoil, trigger pull, and site configuration for each firearm. By Jove, I think these friends have made me into a long-range marksman! It was an ideal prelude to a meeting of the Wood Duck Society. When I showed it to him before dinner, Rick had a positive response to my artwork commemorating David’s South African safari. So far so good. Tonight we’ll see what the people in Louisville think of my “Legacy Art” concept.
— Still capturing sight bites — An energetic pair of fowl, landing on a surface that mirrors dawn’s first hues—c-l-i-c-k—joined moments later by a second couple… The wood ducks have returned to Simpson Knob for another season, on the weekend that pays tribute to their modest splendor.