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| Ogden's Cow No further explanation required, right? |
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Dear Abby
Dear Abby,
1. Do people become more boring as they age, become broken records, endlessly droning on about their glory day(s), their one and only hobby, interest or most recent discovery, stuck like glue to the same subject, returning to that subject over and over regardless of one's efforts to steer them elsewhere, ignoring all signs that nobody gives a rat's ass about what they're saying?
2. What's your take on these folks? Are they so self-absorbed, so egocentric that they have no interest whatsoever in anybody or anything other than themselves?
3. Do you recommend any of these actions? Interrupt with, "How 'bout those Cubs?" Close your eyes, incline your head and make loud snoring noises. If wearing sturdy shoes - better yet, steel toed boots - holler, "Darn it, another cramp!" while giving 'em a swift kick in the shins, then shuffling around moaning and massaging your thigh. Explaining the difference between monologue and dialog, dissertation and conversation.
4. Is there a way to make them understand that after a couple minutes the audience is lost, casting frenzied glances at the nearest exit, fervently wishing they'd stayed home, vowing to avoid further contact at all costs, and pondering the slowest, most painful methods of (justifiable) homicide?
5. Is it possible that I unknowingly attract them somehow, that I'm a bore magnet? Should I try changing shampoo?
Signed, Bored in Arizona
PS: Ever heard John Prine's song, Dear Abby? Funny!
1. Do people become more boring as they age, become broken records, endlessly droning on about their glory day(s), their one and only hobby, interest or most recent discovery, stuck like glue to the same subject, returning to that subject over and over regardless of one's efforts to steer them elsewhere, ignoring all signs that nobody gives a rat's ass about what they're saying?
2. What's your take on these folks? Are they so self-absorbed, so egocentric that they have no interest whatsoever in anybody or anything other than themselves?
3. Do you recommend any of these actions? Interrupt with, "How 'bout those Cubs?" Close your eyes, incline your head and make loud snoring noises. If wearing sturdy shoes - better yet, steel toed boots - holler, "Darn it, another cramp!" while giving 'em a swift kick in the shins, then shuffling around moaning and massaging your thigh. Explaining the difference between monologue and dialog, dissertation and conversation.
4. Is there a way to make them understand that after a couple minutes the audience is lost, casting frenzied glances at the nearest exit, fervently wishing they'd stayed home, vowing to avoid further contact at all costs, and pondering the slowest, most painful methods of (justifiable) homicide?
5. Is it possible that I unknowingly attract them somehow, that I'm a bore magnet? Should I try changing shampoo?
Signed, Bored in Arizona
PS: Ever heard John Prine's song, Dear Abby? Funny!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Amputations
Our kitchen came with an unanchored island that appeared to be an afterthought. Although it had the same granite top as the perimeter cabinets, the sides and back were cheap ass fiber board with fake 'wood' finish that didn't match the built-in cabinets. The moldings were also mismatched, poorly cut and installed by a drunk or a butcher. Or drunken butcher. Or butch drunk. Except for the granite top it was butt ugly, with capital UGH!
We decided to deep six the UGH but keep the granite top and attach it to a new island that we would buy or build. We chose the buy option. Trish wanted a lower work surface so she could sit whilst creating culinary delights but we couldn't find anything the right height. On to Plan B: buy a table and simply shorten the legs.
Trish found an unfinished table at IKEA that had nominal 4" square legs. I proceeded with the quadruple amputation, assuming the legs were solid wood. Sumbitch! Damned things were hollow except for the bottom 1.5"; the rest of the leg was nothing more than a square tube with sides 1/4' thick. I had to do major surgery on the amputated feet and build 'ankle' inserts that could be screwed and glued inside the hollow tubes. It had to be strong enough to support the 200 pound granite top plus pots and pans plus the occasional sitter - say 400 pounds and change - plus allow for lateral movement without collapsing. So much for the 'simply shorten' concept.
The finished table looks great and Trish is happy. Mama happy = everybody happy. I saved the amputated ankles thinking they'd make good pencil holders or some such. Flash forward 5 months, I'm heavy into my new acrylic painting hobby and there's those ankles sitting over there. It's time I slapped some paint on those suckers. And so it came to pass.
We decided to deep six the UGH but keep the granite top and attach it to a new island that we would buy or build. We chose the buy option. Trish wanted a lower work surface so she could sit whilst creating culinary delights but we couldn't find anything the right height. On to Plan B: buy a table and simply shorten the legs.
Trish found an unfinished table at IKEA that had nominal 4" square legs. I proceeded with the quadruple amputation, assuming the legs were solid wood. Sumbitch! Damned things were hollow except for the bottom 1.5"; the rest of the leg was nothing more than a square tube with sides 1/4' thick. I had to do major surgery on the amputated feet and build 'ankle' inserts that could be screwed and glued inside the hollow tubes. It had to be strong enough to support the 200 pound granite top plus pots and pans plus the occasional sitter - say 400 pounds and change - plus allow for lateral movement without collapsing. So much for the 'simply shorten' concept.
The finished table looks great and Trish is happy. Mama happy = everybody happy. I saved the amputated ankles thinking they'd make good pencil holders or some such. Flash forward 5 months, I'm heavy into my new acrylic painting hobby and there's those ankles sitting over there. It's time I slapped some paint on those suckers. And so it came to pass.
Amputations
Monday, February 13, 2012
Sonart
What is sonart? Google it and you'll get 213,000 hits, this post now being one of them. So much for coming up with something new. It's mind boggling when you think about it: 213,000 references to a word that isn't a word at all. It appears that most of the hits refer to a bogus sound studio website that's a scam/virus; don't go there.
If you've seen a fish finder in action, you'll recognize the theme of my latest painting. If not, you'll think the painting resulted from a bizarre nightmare involving alien spacecraft, boats, sundry wierd shapes, sharks, hallucinatory mushrooms and a leaky waterbed. Many fishermen have these sonar devices on their boats to help them ID fish and structure (weeds, debris, Jimmy Hoffa, etc), and determine water depth and temperature. Sonar + art = sonart. Yeah, I know: it's gag me-esque but work with me here; cut the silly old fart a little slack, already.
Sonart
Fish finder viewing screens are mostly small, say about 3" high by 4" wide. My painting is a stretched version, 11" high by 42" wide, thusly sized to fit a specific wall in the MBR. Trish said she wanted to replace a framed black and white print of downtown Portland with something more colorful. Color, it's got. As for other redeeming qualities, well ...... you tell me. I can handle it.
Doing this painting was helpful in overcoming my tendency to over-define and overwork. The subject is loosey goosey, no hard edged shapes or straight lines, inspires one to let it all hang out and be creative rather than just copying an image, be it mental or real, from one source to another. I may do more sonart pix.
If you've seen a fish finder in action, you'll recognize the theme of my latest painting. If not, you'll think the painting resulted from a bizarre nightmare involving alien spacecraft, boats, sundry wierd shapes, sharks, hallucinatory mushrooms and a leaky waterbed. Many fishermen have these sonar devices on their boats to help them ID fish and structure (weeds, debris, Jimmy Hoffa, etc), and determine water depth and temperature. Sonar + art = sonart. Yeah, I know: it's gag me-esque but work with me here; cut the silly old fart a little slack, already.
Sonart
Fish finder viewing screens are mostly small, say about 3" high by 4" wide. My painting is a stretched version, 11" high by 42" wide, thusly sized to fit a specific wall in the MBR. Trish said she wanted to replace a framed black and white print of downtown Portland with something more colorful. Color, it's got. As for other redeeming qualities, well ...... you tell me. I can handle it.
Doing this painting was helpful in overcoming my tendency to over-define and overwork. The subject is loosey goosey, no hard edged shapes or straight lines, inspires one to let it all hang out and be creative rather than just copying an image, be it mental or real, from one source to another. I may do more sonart pix.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Fish
Several posts back, I was relating my sporadic forays into the world of art but forgot to mention a Phase II piece that was done for a benefit event. I'm not sure how this thing would be classified. Sculpture doesn't seem quite right. Mixed media perhaps. It consists of cedar board scraps, bamboo sticks and fence posts covered with acrylic paint and assorted junk.
Fish Sticks
I had fun making this, especially the bionic blowfish and cardshark. It was donated to an organization that gave out scholarships and was sold in a silent auction for $2700. Do you believe that? Nah, didn't think so. Honestly, I don't recall how much it went for, around $75 I think.
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