At the Heart of the Matter are Matters of the Heart

(Is it an experiment, a combobulation of paint, or the beginnings of somethiing interesting?)

Today a woman dressed in shorts and obviously wearing a wig came into the church office. She was distraught and wanted to see a pastor. The more we chatted, it became obvious to me that this was a man dressed in women’s clothing.  She (he) had attractive legs and a nice face.

I told her to come back in one hour and perhaps our Youth Pastor would be here. She insisted that she really wanted to see a Senior Pastor, and she would come back later. This situation reminded me of an incident that happened in our Art Gallery.

I was working there one day when an older looking woman in glasses came in. Her “disguise” was purposely made to look artificial: an obvious curly wig sat askew on the top of her head, and she wore a frumpy skirt with a man’s shirt. She had no makeup and made no attempt to act feminine. The minute she walked in, I knew she was male. Since this happens often in the art world, I treated her as any other art lover.

(Add a glaze or two, wipe out, and something new
and interesting appears) I will define some of the
detail and show you the next two phases. I need
to add some more color for depth.)

She stayed for over an hour discussing art with the workers and indicating that she, too, was an artist. We told her about our group and suggested she look into joining because it sounded like she had great experience and exposure.

A couple days later, she came back dressed as “himself” with a partner. I acted as if I hadn’t seen him before, and showed them the pieces they were interested in. His partner was a collector.

I believe in both of these instances, the gay person was there to establish acceptance and to see if there was any prejudice or alienation in our attitudes or treatment. The “Gay marriage vote” was on the docket in the Fall in our area. But this recent experience with a Pastor was new to me. Perhaps the individual was sincere. I have no way of knowing.

When our youth pastor arrived, the woman returned. Unfortunately, Pastor had to leave again for a meeting. He invited her to come back at 2 p.m. As she left, I asked her if she intended to come back. Her reply: “No he’s too self-righteous.”

I was surprised at that judgment call since they had had only a few words. No one should expect to walk into a business or a church and expect that someone is going to be there for them at a moment’s notice. I think Christian churches are going to be tested in the next few years. “Hate speech” is coming to the forefront and some are even implying that the Bible be changed because of the hate speech it contains.

Ironically, when the Youth Pastor left for his meeting at another church, guess who was sitting in the foyer waiting for an appointment? Either serious help was needed, she wanted to be married in a Christian church or she was simply testing the church environment.

When we meet new people, we never know where they’re coming from. That’s why everyone should be treated with courtesy and respect. There’s no need to generate animosity or ill will. Our job as individuals and entrepreneurs is to avoid making judgment calls on other human beings. How they live their lives is none of our business. In like manner, no one should tell us what to paint, who we may sell to, and when as long as we are obeying the law. Freedom of choice should be every person's prerogative as long as they are operating within the law.

(I did this painting in much the same
way, except the parrot was planned.
It's mate is on the right.)

Since when did we become a society of “busy bodies” meddling into other people’s affairs? Why must our “free speech” be labeled? Who is the authority that designates what is and isn’t “hate speech?” Did they receive our vote? Why have they been given so much power and control over us?

Hate speech can work both ways. Recipients of hate have no race, ethnicity, color, gender or orientation. All are susceptible. Each is unique with specific traits and needs.

Tolerance and understanding can bridge the gap that seems to widen when hatred and anger are used instead. Deal with your fellow human beings honorably no matter which side of the spectrum they’re on.

The Mating Game is a Fascinating Dance of Chemistry and Attraction

"This will be perfect!"

I'm not a photographer, but sometimes I get lucky and come up with a winning photo or two. I decided to repost one of my favorite blogs with photos.  

Mating season is underway here in Florida. The other day, I drove into a parking lot and nearly mowed down a great egret that was wandering about in a drunken erotical swagger. In the movie Bambi, Disney’s Thumper called it “twitterpated;” and by the flashy green down between the egret’s eyes and bill, I had to agree with that spunky rabbit. 

Being twitterpated is not limited to birds. Alligators get downright mean and nasty when the urge to mate overtakes them. One lusty gator saw its reflection in the sliding glass door of a local resident and pursued the image aggressively thinking it was a prospective mate. The terrified homeowner called animal control when the twitterpated reptile stood upright against the glass to “get a little closer.” Lucky for her the door held until local authorities arrived. 

One memorable morning, a “testy” gator proceeded to crawl across the road in front of me. Apparently a grate at the edge of the pond prevented the gator from swimming under the roadway to the other side, presumably, to meet its prospective mate. The gator drew quite a crowd as it hissed and snarled across the asphalt, warning passers by to stay their distance.

"This will be a fine nest."

Even anoles get in the act; pumping their bright red throat fans to impress the opposite sex. This undulating process goes on all summer and into fall as these lizard-like creatures mate and nest. During the winter months, anoles and lizards hibernate, and I rarely see them scurrying across my path.

Love bugs are another southern phenomenon. These red-headed black bugs spend their entire adult life copulating. The male and female attach themselves at the rear and remain that way even while flying. They splatter themselves over windshields and car radiators from April through May.

Shortly after mating, the love bug male dies; but that doesn't dampen the female's incredible urge to reproduce. She simply drags her dead mate around until she lays her eggs in the grass; and then she dies, most likely from exhaustion. Her eggs will hatch in the warmth of rotting grass mulch and become the next season's wave of love-bugs.

"Do I smell alll right?"

Squirrels in my neighborhood get downright silly during the mating season, which usually happens two or three times a year. They showoff, turn backward somersaults, and play games like “twitch” the tail and “tag you’re it!”

For two seasons running, squirrels built their nest in our cabbage palm. The mated pair cleaned and secured their nest in the spiked bark that protruded from the top of the tree. Their nest included escape tunnels and front and back points of entry.

During the gestation period, all was quiet except for excursions, in turns, by the parents to obtain food. After about two plus weeks of silence, three babies appeared. The youngsters brazenly crept to the edge of the palm fronds that made up their front porch and peeked over the side. Before long, they were chasing each other through the tunnels and playing “hump” games in preparation for future mating and nesting experiences of their own.

"It's a long way down, father. Will our babies be safe?"

When the squirrel mama decided her litter was ready for life outside the nest, she carried each baby by the scruff of its neck much the same way a cat carries its kittens. One by one the tiny squirrels were transported to a nearby live oak. The process was repeated until all three babes were safe. 

Two families of squirrels were born and nurtured in my cabbage palm, and then hurricane Charlie whipped through the area and scattered the nesting bark to the far winds. Many times the squirrels and their offspring returned perplexed, sniffing and searching my cabbage palm for evidence of their former home. I miss those squirrels.

"Three Newborns" (photo a little blurry -- they move around fast!)

Catchy Tunes and Titles become the Springboard for Ideas

Father and daughter welcome new baby

Artists, Small business owners and entrepreneurs are getting hoarse trying to hawk their wares in an overcrowded marketplace. As they vie for attention, their petulance is showing up in ads, and in their names.

“Angry Orchard” is a new brand of apple juice “with a bite!” If that isn’t feisty and in your face, I don’t know what is? Let’s hope their bark is as good as their bite.

“Wild Dolphin” is a start up company that is capitalizing on the sugar and citrus products grown nearby to make rum. It’s a perfect fit. Tours and samples lure customers to taste and see if this isn’t the best rum made anywhere!

"Does this hat make me look fat?" 11 x 14 pencil drawing

“The Purple Dragon” capitalizes on Mahjongg lovers in the area who want to make new friends and play the game they love. Of course, Chinese Dragon’s, especially purple ones, create a fun environment where winning is not only based on skill, but the luck of the draw.

Names do make a difference. The title of a book certainly attracts attention. And yet fine artists seem reticent to name their paintings preferring that the viewer draw their own conclusions. The thinking is that the artist doesn’t want to influence a viewer’s perception or imagination. Whether this is a good practice or not is still being debated on social media.

Personally, I enjoy knowing what an artist has used as a title. I try to envision what he or she had in mind when they created the piece. Sometimes I see their vision and sometimes I don’t, but it doesn’t stop me from looking and wondering.

"I Stand on the Brink" 8 x 10 pencil drawing

I also enjoy letting my own fantasy run wild through the forms, shapes, and colors on a canvas. If done well, the painting will lead me through a labyrinth of contrast and values that are interesting and exciting. In my opinion, a title just gives the viewer a nudge and a head start.

Search engines find your blog titles much easier if they have some length and substance to them. Understanding “catch words” and trends can help bolster your topics. Words in headings that have fire, sex, red, wild, or sizzle seem to attract readers. Hit songs with fire in their title have become instant hits. However, overuse of any hot word or phrase becomes old and tired in a twinkling on the web.

It’s fun to create catchy titles. Sometimes the titles I create actually give me an idea for a future painting or a themed series. In your spare time write down those catchy titles and save them. See if they don’t become a springboard for creation.

"Guess Whoooo?" 8 x 10 pencil drawing

Kitschy, Kitschy Koo is no Longer Baby Talk – It’s a Meme

"The interior of a Mexican Restaurant" Kitschy or Cool?

The term “meme” has been around since 1976; yet, for some of us, it feels brand new thanks to the Internet. The word, first coined by Richard Dawkins was used to describe the behavior of genes. Later he referred to the internet’s use of meme as “deliberate and altered;" In other words – a high jacking of the original content or idea. #stolenstuff 

Pronounced meem, this term refers to any idea, style, action which spreads, often as mimicry, from one person to another on the Internet. Like a plague or a disease, a meme may take the form of an image, hyperlink, video, picture, website or hashtag. Even an error or misspell can become a meme that catches on and spreads until it becomes popular and accepted usage.

"Kitschy" or Flashy?

I’ve seen it in the art world. A popular composition or theme gains momentum when it is shared and soon there are countless variations or knock-offs from that first original idea. Like rabbits, these alterations spawn additional copycat versions earning the title of “kitsch.”

What exactly is kitsch? In the 19^th century it was art that conveyed exaggerated sentimentality and melodrama or “camp” if it was humorous or ironic in nature. Today kitsch is simply tacky or in bad taste. The word “gaudy” is sometimes used to describe work that is calculated to have a popular appeal. But beauty and worth are both in the eye of the beholder. "One person's trash is another man's treasure," so who's to judge? #Lovemyjunk 

Kitsch is not a new word. Originating in Munich, Germany around 1865, it described any artwork that was cheap, popular, and marketable. That still holds true today. The reason artists resort to kitsch in the first place is because it’s fun, quick, and lucrative. Kitsch brings in the cash and butters the bread.

Kitschy or Catchy?

Critics argue that the essence of kitsch is imitation. The purveyors are merely copying the beautiful and the popular to make money, but the good and substantial part of the work is missing.

Kitsch becomes “cliché” when it is overused to the point of losing its original appeal. Salvador Dali once said: “The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.”

Ironically, Dali stole that phrase from Gèrard de Nerval who said: “The first man who compared woman to a rose was a poet, the second, an imbecile.”

"Couldn't resist adding an Internet joke." #nothingpersonaldear

The old fashioned game of “Whisper” where you passed a secret from one ear to another seems minuscule compared to the scope of the “world wide web” of today’s Internet. Like the flash of a speeding bullet, ideas, artwork, and photographs race across cyber airways adding fodder to meme, kitsch, and consequently the trash that ends up in our inbox. #damspam 

The Jewish culture has long had a word for this aberration: “Schlock” which refers to something shoddy, cheap or inferior. In this day and age of information overload, perhaps we should use more discretion in our choices and focus on quality not quantity. We’ve all heard this before, but does anyone ever follow this advice? #turnsadeafear 

Stay tuned for a discussion of an art movement known as “Pop Surrealism” and why some consider this a “lowbrow” alternative.

mixed media -- "That's my Baby"

The Mating Game and More

Mating season is underway here in Florida. The other day, I drove into a parking lot and nearly mowed down a great egret that was wandering about in a drunken erotic swagger. In the movie Bambi, Disney’s Thumper called it “twitterpated;” and by the flashy green down between the egret’s eyes and bill, I had to agree with that spunky rabbit.

Being twitterpated is not limited to birds. Alligators get downright mean and nasty when the urge to mate overtakes them. One lusty gator saw its reflection in the sliding glass door of a local resident and pursued the image aggressively thinking it was a prospective mate. The terrified homeowner called animal control when the twitterpated reptile stood upright against the glass to “get a little closer.” Lucky for her the door held until local authorities arrived.

 

One memorable morning, a “testy” gator proceeded to crawl across the road in front of me. Apparently a grate at the edge of the pond prevented the gator from swimming under the roadway to the other side, presumably, to meet its prospective mate. The gator drew quite a crowd as it hissed and snarled across the asphalt, warning passers by to stay their distance.

Even anoles get in the act; pumping their bright red throat fans to impress the opposite sex. This undulating process goes on all summer and into fall as these lizard-like creatures mate and nest. During the winter months, anoles and lizards hibernate, and I rarely see them scurrying across my path.

Love bugs are another southern phenomenon. These red-headed black bugs spend their entire adult life copulating. The male and female attach themselves at the rear and remain that way even while flying. They splatter themselves over windshields and car radiators from April through May.

Shortly after mating, the love bug male dies; but that doesn't dampen the female's incredible urge to reproduce. She simply drags her dead mate around until she lays her eggs in the grass; and then she dies, most likely from exhaustion. Her eggs will hatch in the warmth of rotting grass mulch and become the next season's wave of love-bugs.

Squirrels in my neighborhood get downright silly during the mating season, which usually happens two or three times a year. They showoff, turn backward somersaults, and play games like “twitch” the tail and “tag you’re it!”

 

For two seasons running, squirrels built their nest in our cabbage palm. The mated pair cleaned and secured their nest in the spiked bark that protruded from the top of the tree. Their nest included escape tunnels and front and back points of entry.

During the gestation period, all was quiet except for excursions, in turns, by the parents to obtain food. After about two plus weeks of silence, three babies appeared. The youngsters brazenly crept to the edge of the palm fronds that made up their front porch and peeked over the side. Before long, they were chasing each other through the tunnels and playing “hump” games in preparation for future mating and nesting experiences of their own.

When the squirrel mama decided her litter was ready for life outside the nest, she carried each baby by the scruff of its neck much the same way a cat carries its kittens. One by one the tiny squirrels were transported to a nearby live oak. The process was repeated until all three babes were safe.

 

Two families of squirrels were born and nurtured in my cabbage palm, and then hurricane Charlie whipped through the area and scattered the nesting bark to the far winds. Many times the squirrels and their offspring returned perplexed, sniffing and searching my cabbage palm for evidence of their former home. I miss those squirrels.