I have always been envious of the Talent for art my brother has. I got a talent for words, he got the talent for art. I have to work hard to learn how to do things that come naturally to him. I have been building skills in art.
However, that being said…for me it all started with a dog. my mom showed me how to do a simple dog. I used that to start learning how to draw other things.
I consider photography to be an art. I am an amateur. I asked a man once who I knew to be a good photographer why he did not pursue his art. He had such an eye for color and beauty.
He told me that if he considered it to be art he couldn’t do it. Surprised, I asked him why?
He told me that if it were art it would have to be perfect. It would anger him to create Imperfect art. But as a picture it would be okay if it was natural. Nature has flaws.
That has always baffled me. For me, it would frustrate me to see the differences between nature and my pictures. Still, I can take a picture and make it look better on the computer. I can adjust the brightness, the colors, and the contrast. Somehow that makes me feel better about the shots I take.
Today I was trying to get work done. It seems like whenever I sit down to do work…well that is when everyone wants my attention. Normally it does not bother me…I multitask and get everything I can done. Today however it had me snapping. I have since apologized to those who I was cranky with. But it got me thinking.
Why was I so quick to snap?
Well, I have publishing deadlines approaching. I am also getting ready for a trip out of town. (A rare treat as my Mom is coming to get me and my daughter for a mini Vacation to her place.) Then I have invited friends over for a fourth of July cookout…And so I have to plan for that…I am rearranging my house and cleaning as I go. My dishwasher broke and I have to prepare for the installation crew with the new one. Summer is almost here and I have yet to spend any time in my art studio…My legs have been achy…People, in general, have been irritating me more than usual…
Yeah, that is all my excuses. Well, I could probably come up with a few more. But I don’t make a habit of Lying…Even to myself. So I had to face the real reason why Patti has been cranky today. I really did not want to do anything other than sit at my computer and work on the projects I wanted to work on. I wanted to be alone, crank up my music, and work on making books exist. Either by formatting or by writing or editing. I really did not care. I wanted to forget that people exist because then I would be able to forget the cruelty we people do to each other. I would be able to forget the idea that peaceful existence is a dream…a hope that is too often dashed.
I could forget that this world is so awful that eighteen-year-olds want to kill and die.
I could forget that there are so many people who cannot seem to accept the mere safe existence of people who are different. That people feel the need to hate. To fear. And often what humans hate and fear – They kill.
I could for at least a short time forget that women’s rights are at this very moment about to be thrown back in time to the 1950s.
I could for a few minutes just enjoy what I am doing and not worry about my children in this world. This world is where hate and fear are more prevalent than love and kindness.
I could forget that there are those who would have me locked away because I am different. There are those who would speak over me…simply because what I say is nothing that they want to hear.
So when I feel like my voice is being stolen I GET LOUD.
So since I am aware that I am Snappy because I wanted to hide – GUESS WHAT?!
Consider this your Warning. I am about to get VOCAL. I Am about to get loud. I have been more or less leaving my opinions off of my social media. I tame myself because I feel like that is not going to help my books sell.
But I will no longer bite my tongue just to watch it bleed. My opinions are a part of me.
I really don’t see the reason why automatic Rifles are necessary. I can accept handguns (self defense) and shotgun or regular rifles (hunting) but I don’t see a reason why automatic rifles are not being made harder to get ahold of…the only use of AR weapons is killing people..
This week I have been sharing some of the stories of my book. A lifetime of stories lived. Some of the stories I have lived will never be shared – for various reasons…some because they are not my story to tell(I am a mother after all) Some because the trauma prevents. So many lives are books stuck on dusty shelves. Never shared for various reasons. I need to share my stories. As a survivor of childhood sex abuse I felt like my voice was taken from me. For me, telling my stories is empowering. For others it is not. I would never try to force the telling of a life.
However, I also want to be clear. I am always willing to hear the story of the lives you have lived. I devour books like the dragon I am…and if you choose to present me with more to read I will revel in it.
Thank you for allowing me to share the stories this week. For me, it is the best form of immortality. I when I am gone will remain due to the book written by my words.
I have a huge family. My parents were each from families of five children. So there were lots of cousins. My grandmother wanted my brother and me to know our cousins. So every summer for a few years – I believe it was like five but the memories are so infused into my childhood that I am not sure, she would drive us out to my aunt’s farm to visit. Mom has three sisters and a brother.
Her brother was into cosplay before cosplay was cool. He did his costumes without a pattern. I used to have pictures of him in his spiderman costume with Stan Lee. He was one of my childhood heroes. Mostly because of how creative he was. I had a lot of childhood heroes that I could look up to. Still, he lived close so he was not involved in our trips.
One of the sisters was Navy. She lived in Florida and still does. She did not choose to have children till later in life. My cousins on that front are amazing, but closer in age to my son. So they were not around when we were doing these trips.
The trips, and the cousins, were based in Michigan. A gorgeous small community near the Canadian border…Boyne City. My one aunt had a farm and though I don’t know what the other aunt did, she lived nearby. The farmer had two boys, one close to me in age and one closer to my little brother. The other aunt had a boy and a girl. The boy is elder than I, I am not sure by how much, and her daughter was my age. We stayed at the farm when we went. I remember drinking milk straight from the cow and riding ponies. I remember my cousin telling me dirty jokes in the barn. I remember all of us kids playing in the coal shute – it looked like a black sandbox. Then we were all thrown in the bath together because we were covered in coal dust. The summers there were amazing.
Now this story is about one of those trips. We lived somewhere between Virginia and Maryland. Grandma lived in Alexandria. She lived in basically the same place my whole childhood. That is why I often claimed her place was home. She had a station wagon…much like the one pictured on the top of the post. The trip between home and my aunt’s farm was a long one. We would drive up and back. On that particular trip, we were somewhere in Ohio on the way to the farm. Grandma was having trouble with the car, and she never did…but it was not acting right.
I remember her deciding to get off at an exit that was coming up. She took the exit ramp, and it was one of those that turned around and went in a circle. She was going slow, because it was an exit ramp, and thank goodness she was. I remember her cursing…mind you when I say she rarely did. The next thing I saw looking out the window was the passenger side rear axle and wheel rolling away ahead of us down the exit.
She somehow managed to get us pulled off of the ramp into the grass. This was way before cell phones…and she had two little children with her. My brother was a toddler. I am seven years older than he, and we stopped those trips around the time I turned eleven or twelve. I am not sure but I believe that this was on the last one. If it was I really can’t blame grandma. We walked to the nearest place where grandma could call for help.
She was good at handling emergencies. Obviously, we survived, but I remember it being a huge thing. I remember the fear when we saw the axle and the wheel rolling away. Yes, It was worse because it wasn’t just the wheel. Somehow just the wheel would have been comedic. This felt like we were in real danger because it was more than the wheel.
So many of my memories from childhood are based around trauma, mostly because that is what cemented the memories into my brain. This one is both different and not. Though the fear was there… I knew I was safe. This one has all of the wonderful memories of the trips attached. The cousins that I got to visit and know because of them. Two of those cousins are gone now. The little farm boy who told me dirty jokes lost his life on a snowmobile. The daughter of my aunt passed away as well – due to more natural causes. So all I have left of those cousins are the memories of summers spent in childhood. If you can, let your cousins know you love them. I am lucky enough to still have the cousins on my dad’s side.
Well, this was not supposed to be a dark story. I was trying to tell it for the fun oh my goodness type tale it used to be. Now I am melancholy at the loss of the cousins. So I will leave the blog well enough alone, maybe tomorrow I will go back to posting the normal stuff. It depends on how I feel in the morning.
Trying to get books ready for publication, writing more, and recovering from a really nasty infection…means the blog caught neglect. So here is a poem written today titled The White Whale…
I was trying for a sandstorm on a beach at sunset…I swear it looked better in my brain. lol I have found that drawing on a digital medium is more fun, but I am better with pencil and paper. I have more control with a pencil than I do with digital. What medium do you do best with?
Pattimouse 