After a restless Saturday-night sleep for all, we hit the ground with all cylinders firing yesterday, and—by some miracle—our team managed to organize, pack, and load all Bruce’s things, as well as clean the kitchen and bathroon, making it back to Danville around 1 am this morning. Today we transferred everything to the storage compartment and delivered the truck to Nicholasville within ten minutes of the 48-hour expiration. We did it! Bruce is safe and sound in Kentucky, and everybody kept a cool head throughout the ordeal. We “celebrated” with a major all-you-can-eat family buffet munch-down.
Operation Exit Strategy
March 26th, 2007Just your basic inner freak-out
March 25th, 2007Terie, Marty, Dana, and I (plus Walie) travelled together to Indianapolis on Saturday. Bruce had dialysis in the afternoon, but he was home by the time we picked up the box-van rental and arrived as his place. When I saw the condition of the contents in the mobile home, including the state of unreadiness in the bedroom, and the storage shed, too, my mind raced with frantic calculations of time and labor. I struggled with myself to avoid the brink of panic. Inside I was almost like Heston’s Taylor when he cried,
“It’s a madhouse!”
A Family Enterprise
March 24th, 2007The move from Indianapolis takes place this weekend.
Day twenty-three
March 23rd, 2007Much to do today before we go help Bruce move home. I’ll post my weekend notes when we get back. The only entry I’ll make now is to publish a poem that cousin Dan sent to me this morning. It was written by his father—my Uncle Bob.
Home Schooling
by Bob DixonGrandpa, teach us of truth.
I will help you study mathematics.
Is mathematics a language?
Yes, but it never speaks of good or evil.
Where shall we learn of good?
We will read poetry.
But must we not study God.
Yes, yes, we will read from the Greeks.
Is that not history?
No, I will teach you the history of your family.
But Grandpa, that is not written?
Writing destroys the sense of time passing.
So will we stop studying writing?
No, write on paper that does not endure a century.
What about the Greeks?
Their words were lost for a thousand years.
Was that bad?
Probably not, wisdom is better when it’s not seen as fact.
What about science?
Certainly you must study it, but it is always being revised.
You mean it is just theories?
No, science is about ways to make guesses about the future.
Grandpa, why do you always make us guess the answer to a problem?
We have mental processes that can not be put in words.
Is that like when people talk about art?
Exactly, or when athletes talk about playing ball.
Grandpa, have you learned much in your 70 years?
Yes, but if I told you it would be like yesterday’s ball game.
Is it sad that when you die that will all be gone?
No, you have a quarter of my genes.
But must we discover again all that you already know?
It seems that life requires refreshing everything but the bare essentials.
Does that mean having children?
No, it means having grandchildren.© Bob Dixon / All rights reserved.
Kookie, Kookie, lend me your comb
March 22nd, 2007March experiment—day twenty-two— If I’d taken time earlier to characterize my day, I would’ve declared that my experiment had broken down, but now I’m not sure, and that’s why I go a bit mad at this point in the exercise. Has the imposed mental structure fallen apart, or has it been absorbed into my state of being? Has the regimen lost “front of mind” status only because I’ve encouraged it to become a foundational habit of situational awareness and time management? Great Scot! Can I not distinguish between failure and success? This must be why I tend to go a bit mad at this point in the exercise, or did I say that already?
Today’s sight bite— The fleshy, white thighs of my new client, as he sits on our couch—c-l-i-c-k—explaining auto-security remotes with typical enthusiasm, but his shorts are alarmingly—short!
Tomorrow— Hit the scheduled milestone and keep plugging, in preparation for the round-trip to Indianapolis…
Baybos, Bursae, and Banquets
March 21st, 2007March experiment—day twenty-one— I’ve hit a set of conditions in the studio that dictate subjects for my attention that are different than I originally intended for this time of the month, and I’m trying to adjust. Heightened awareness is the key. I can’t lose the joy. I have to remind myself that in many respects, the external framework may be the least important aspect of the experiment.
Here are the only other things I feel like mentioning today:
1) Mombo called with good news that Janet and Jerome have a strong position with a baby girl born in Guatemala this past Saturday. Everyone smile and pray hard.
2) Dana is showing excellent progress on healing her knee injury, with other beneficial side effects.
3) Uncle Norm closed on the Indy mobile home, and we’re all set for moving Bruce to Danville this weekend.
4) The Salvation Army dinner next month is shaping up to be the best one I’ve helped organize.
5) Friday Night Lights really is the most outstanding series currently on television.
Fifteen ball in the corner
March 20th, 2007March experiment—day twenty— Business development is no more an exact science than most other areas of life, and, let’s be honest, most areas of life defy rational explanation, no matter what the experts say. I suppose that’s why—after months of trying to generate new sales through prospecting—we solidified two new working relationships today that apparently came out of nowhere. I say “apparently,” because I can’t be convinced there isn’t some invisible hand at work in these matters. Nevertheless, we have reason to believe that specific positive influences played a part, such as our reputation in the community and the impression of our Website. When you pick up the cue and “break,” you have a reasonable hope that several of the balls will end up in pockets, but just try to explain exactly why some do and others don’t. It’s impossible. You just move on to the next shot, knowing there was some hidden logic to it all. That being said, does the Graybeard stop prospecting? Of course not. Who knows? Perhaps a willingness to stick the ol’ neck out to begin with is what inexplicably sets off the entire chain reaction.
Today’s sight bite— A silvery mist cloaks the downtown streetscape
—c-l-i-c-k—as night slides into morning, and puddles sparkle with steady precipitation.
Tomorrow— Take my faltering schedule by the scruff of its neck and restore discipline to the experiment…
Your mission— El Generalissimo
March 19th, 2007March experiment—day nineteenth— A big chunk of my day was devoted to The Salvation Army. We’re getting ready for our annual Appreciation Dinner, planned for the Tuesday after Easter. Our distinguished guest speaker will be General Paul Rader. Before retiring and making Kentucky his home, General Rader served as worldwide commander, the only American officer to lead The Salvation Army since its founding. We’ve been trying at least four or five years to bring him to Danville, and this time Captain Zach was able to pull it off. As a result of my activities on behalf of the Army, I didn’t get into the March rhythm today, but tomorrow I’ll begin again…
Earth under heaven
March 18th, 2007March experiment—day eighteen— Well, I may not have broken the back of the “Joe Box” dilemma, but I think I managed to harass a disc or two toward that goal. Joan and Caitlan stopped by on their way to the farm and delivered more boxes to keep things interesting, plus a weird hand-built crank wheel of some sort. Marty helped me clear a better work space for my 3D project in the coal bin. It’s been a while since he’s been in there, and he realizes that now he needs to duck to move around, too. He helped me carry furniture into the refurbished kitchen upstairs. Dana’s been working diligently this weekend with all the finishing touches. Life is quite good, if one puts emphasis on the blessings. At times it seems like three steps forward and two back, but things are moving in the right direction.
Today’s sight bite— The scrubbed green of winter abutting pastel blue—c-l-i-c-k—as I run the hilltop hay fields of KSD’s property.
Tomorrow— Internal and external agenda items expand to fill the day…
The day’s sweet vanity
March 17th, 2007March experiment—day seventeen— Today has been a strange day, in a sense, full of subtle contrasts, not as I expected it to transpire, but the nets of artistic progress are full to the bursting point. I haven’t spent so many hours in a deeply intuitive mode for a very long time. The relentless momentum of decision making set the stage for many days of labor, and I was able to preserve that orientation, even though I took TV breaks to watch four different closing contests between men’s NCAA basketball teams, including one that almost went into triple overtime. All the way through this, I felt the tension born of knowing what I wasn’t doing, and, piled on that, the awareness of how odd a vein of aesthetic ore I’m mining, for God knows what reason. The more I get into this, the more I wonder what it’s all about, what part of myself I’m paying tribute to, what meaning or lack thereof I bring to others. On Saint Patrick’s Day, there isn’t a beer in the house, just the words of William Butler Yeats scratching at my soul—
The Choice
The intellect of man is forced to choose
Perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.When all that story’s finished, what’s the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day’s vanity, the night’s remorse.
No rest for the weary
March 16th, 2007March experiment—day sixteen— The smell of coffee and Krylon—back in the basement before dawn, chipping away at collage components. This is usually when I feel the most energized about blazing forward with my art. If only the clock hands would stand still.
Today’s sight bite— Another sand-blasted nickel sky, hovering over treetops laden with leaf buds—c-l-i-c-k—blocking the solar stimulant for which they undoubtedly yearn.
Tomorrow— A fresh attempt at breaking the back of the “Joe Box” conundrum…
More wakes to cross
March 15th, 2007March experiment—day fifteen— I was able to take care of my physical fatigue with a good night’s sleep below an open window. I needed to find another way—perhaps not as foolproof—to deal with my mental weariness, and so we watched a DVD that Terie had recommended, Stranger than Fiction. It’s an exceptionally good motion picture and hits rather close to home for me. I’m feeling a bit disappointed about learning that another company is abandoning one of the well-recognized logos we designed in the 90s. On the other hand, I’m happy about Hayley’s honor. The director of our Community Arts Center abruptly resigned, so I’m concerned about how that will effect my scheduled one-man show in May. My dear friend Shirley C sent me an email today with news that her husband’s 48-year-old son died unexpectedly. It’s important for me to transcend these emotional cross-currents and maintain focus on the goals I’ve laid out for this month.
Today’s sight bite— Abstract patterns on the natatorium ceiling pass by—c-l-i-c-k—gliding, drifting, fading above my backstroke—as devoid of meaning as the non-thoughts in my mind.
Tomorrow— Bump the cadence, just like I’ve done when running negative splits in a 5,000-meter race…
Just show up
March 14th, 2007March experiment—day fourteen— Various difficulties made for a challenging day. No cause for alarm; I just don’t have the energy to write about it tonight. On top of that, I’ve been worrying more than a bit about the quality of some of my ideas, and—wouldn’t you know it—I encounter this statement from one of the most successful artists of my lifetime…
“Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and work.”
— Chuck Close
Perseverance furthers
March 13th, 2007March experiment—day thirteen— Although I saw progress on several fronts, I could feel exhaustion just below the surface at the same time. I stayed “in motion,” even when keeping still, and, as a result, it was not a contemplative day. The overdue rehabilitation of our Champion Juicer is worthy of note. Ahh… the need for raw, liquid nourishment is satisfied.
Today’s sight bite— The impression of my collage on the gallery’s wall of artworks—c-l-i-c-k—like the strange appeal of a Bohemian relative.
Tomorrow— Balancing the urgency of both neglected necessities and wild leaps of faith…
Toil without triumph would wear anybody down
March 12th, 2007March experiment—day twelve— For what it’s worth, an “Ephraim sighting” suggests a day of receptivity and creative alertness. I may spend some time at the library and see if I can bring my March objectives into coherent alignment with realistic expectations. This must be achieved before the experiment is half over, although the sense of a new beginning is already upon me. I want this to be as challenging as possible, but a touch of the absurd can bear only so much fruit before it becomes counterproductive. Later in the day— My entries for “Exploring Multiple Dimensions,” the SLMM national exhibition in Albuquerque, are in the mail. The relief of having this done makes me realize how important it is to have periodic completion points, as opposed to long spells of effort with no “payoff.” Not very profound, I suppose, but it seems like a revelation at the moment, because I’ve been working too many days without the gratification of finishing something. This puts my daily checklist in a new light. Having so many completion points scheduled at the end of the cycle was the wrong way to plan this. Steady reinforcement is better, if I can avoid a “celebratory” lapse of momentum (that old, familiar pitfall).
Today’s sight bite— The tiny formations of purple, yellow, and gold crocus shoots catch my eye—c-l-i-c-k—like miniature Swiss Guards reporting for duty.
Tomorrow— Launch a revised series of deadlines, speak to the local prospect about a lettering commission, and meet with B.I.K.E. members about the emerging season of cycling priorities…
And I think it’s gonna be alright
March 11th, 2007March experiment—day eleven— After we got home last night from our enjoyable date, I discovered a “giganto” wood box by the garage, plus a message from Joan on our machine. Joe definitely had an eye for cool boxes. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm for their potential to be exploited artistically was not matched by the ability to accomplish everything I set out for myself this weekend. I won’t go into the reasons, but most of them can be cured by adequate rest and some mid-course corrections in my goal setting. A possible analogy could be, “My eyes are too big for my stomach,” if you follow me, but I’m not sure it fits. There’s something to be said for avoiding late-night analysis. I’m giving this my best effort, so I’ll take a fresh look at my game plan in the morning. Too easy for thoughts to turn negative when on the brink of exhaustion.
Today’s sight bite— As we travel east on Lancaster road toward Mack’s cabin, a fiery orb burns through the horizon—c-l-i-c-k—with the realization that I would’ve missed a spectacular image without the clock change that I’d just been belly-aching about.
Tomorrow— A top-to-bottom evaluation should provide opportunities for creative synthesis…
Reaffirmation
March 10th, 2007March experiment—day ten— I had to battle with my “inner wimp” this morning to run five miles at daybreak. With as mild as it is outside, that should not have been necessary, and as soon as I was out the mud-room door I was grateful for the upper hand. It was just the first in a string of today’s reminders to myself about why I’m conducting this odd exercise in the first place. I revisited my piece for New Mexico and took on an ambitious compositional addition, inviting the risk that I might spoil the whole thing. That’s the sort of thing I do in March, but I want to become bold enough to do it all the time without even thinking about it. Inner wimp be damned—you don’t know what untapped capability I have! The decision put me behind schedule again, but I refuse to fret. No profit in it. The Strocks stopped by for lunch, and I loaned one of my dumbbells to Marty. Today is the twenty-ninth anniversary of our first date, so I’m taking Dana to hear Dawn Osborn perform tonight at the new Woody’s in Danville.
Today’s sight bite— Dried paint and pencil marks on a flat surface—c-l-i-c-k—the illusion of a pear results from coordination of mind, eye, hand—and will.
Tomorrow— Spring forward an hour, share the silence, and embrace the checklist…
On the griddle
March 9th, 2007March experiment—day nine— Captain Zach and I talked “Army Biz” while we flipped pancakes for Rotary at KSD. When I returned home, I was happy to find a delicious meal, admittedly much more nutritious than what I’d been feeding to others all morning. Something about the full awareness of all the requirements for the Salvation Army banquet in a month, ongoing commitments to the Brass Band Festival, the delicate business of wooing a new client, the necessity of moving Bruce to Danville before the end of March, and everything else I’ve challenged myself to accomplish over the short term—well, it made me feel like I wanted to collapse this evening. Maybe I just need some rest.
Today’s sight bite— Three exquisite watercress salads with avocado and sprouts—c-l-i-c-k—prepared lovingly by Dana and Lee for our lunch in the mild air on the front porch.
Tomorrow— Back to the checklist, after a good night’s sleep…
A fairly straightforward day
March 8th, 2007March experiment—day eight— I have a steady momentum now. On paper it looks like I’m ahead of schedule, but the schedule may not reflect the proper pace. We’ll see before long. If I do need to bump up my stride a notch, I shouldn’t do it too early in the race.
Today’s sight bite— The full volume of clear, undisturbed water, aglow with midday’s penetrating beams—c-l-i-c-k—viewed from beneath the pool surface, my fins propelling me forward, feeling like an anonymous demigod of the deep in search of a mischievous mermaid or two.
Tomorrow— Rotary Pancake Fry and the completion of my entry for the national SLMM exhibition…
Sighting Ephraim, my favorite town hawk, inspires attack mode
March 7th, 2007March experiment—day seven— I came back from the gym this morning with a strong desire to make up for lost time, and the result was a day of progress beyond anything I could have hoped for. My pace was such that I could even feel the “rusty” spots in my collage technique, but those shouldn’t be too difficult to burnish over the next couple days, and then I’ll start working on my first “Joe Box” this weekend. I use that term because of its double reference to Joseph Cornell, the master of box assemblage, and Joe Wood, who personally acquired my raw materials. It pleases me to know that, for whatever reason, these objects appealed to Joe. And now, with Joan’s approval and due to her kindness, I’ll interpret them as three-dimensional art. Speaking of Joan, her entry about the Lady Rebels says it all. In tonight’s paper, Hayley is quoted as saying she’ll be “out for blood” next year. Admir’l Lice himself couldn’t have said it any better!
Today’s sight bite— At the highest spot in town, the morning sentinel glides from atop the tallest tree with one pump of his massive wingspan—c-l-i-c-k—and circles the human far below, who stands earthbound amid the downy evidence of a recent meal.
Tomorrow— “Cruise control” at my basement work station dedicated to collage…
Just keep moving and don’t fret
March 6th, 2007March experiment—day six— Good grief. I think I’m complicating this too much. Isn’t it just a matter of how hard I crank the pedals?
Before
enlightenment,
chop wood
and carry water.After
enlightenment,
chop wood
and carry water.— Wu Li
Awareness of the drift
March 5th, 2007March experiment—day five— After a Sunday break, I struggle to dominate the desired level of focus at the heart of the exercise. Rest is important, but I shouldn’t have to learn all of last year’s lessons over again. I’m not happy about my productivity today, but I’d best not stress about it. Perhaps there’s something important to learn about maintaining the essential inner momentum, even when the outer goings-on don’t match the prescribed agenda—for example, this morning’s distractions with a plumber down the hall, and my unforeseen but necessary email replies. Tonight’s Mozart at Newlin Hall is not on my checklist either, but if I’m receptive, it may prove more inspiring than a full box of collage scrap.
Today’s sight bite— Ancient trees in McDowell Park—c-l-i-c-k—engraved by sunrise against a blue sky.
Tomorrow— Making up for a bit of lost time…