Day Two Hundred Twelve: There goes Janky July

Holy Shit, there goes July, the worst month for art so far. I mean, I let things pass this month in lieu of floating the river or bike riding. And while I am fully on board with photography being an art, I hardly think most of the photos that I selected would be elevated to that level. But I do have to consider this question daily: what is art? The thought rolls through the alleys in my mind.


However, desperate times call for desperate measures. And in a year long project, some days are lesser days than others. And on the final Saturday in July, I had to ride my bike and listen to live music. The bike ride was awesome, but not long enough. As for the show, it was questionable to my ear as to whether that music rose to the level of art... Thank goodness it was free.


And thank goodness for Danger. I get to flirt with Danger and Danger doesn't mind. He just curls up on my lap and together we find the art in that.

Saturday, July 31: End of the Month should be celebrated. So ice cream cake will do the trick.

Day Two Hundred Eleven: Four wheels vs. Two

I know I have been going on and on about my love affair with my bike. It has been there as long as I can remember. My first bike was red and white with red grips and training wheels. I rode those training wheels into the ground. I remember pedaling along at top speed, braids blowing, hands gripping handlebars, all with wicked lean to first one creaky little wheel then turn and lean on the other one. I used them both as crutch and tool. Eventually the aluminum supports got bent and the rubber wheels wore down on the gravel roads I cruised on. 


Finally came the day my dad decided it was time for me to ride like a big girl, without training wheels. I could hardly wait, hurry up daddy. 


The front yard had a slope to it, providing a launching pad for me and the now two wheeled red bike. My dad gave me a shove and I careened across the yard, out on to the driveway, weeee "I am riding Daddy! Look!". I sailed on past the house, out the back way and just when I was going good I hit a stone and veered to the right and into the thistle patch growing on the side of the road. Luckily it was dense and I was little, I got jabbed a bit but my dad pulled me and my bike out of the mess. And off I went, my love affair in full bloom. 


And next it was the blue girls bike hand me down from my sister who never rode it. Then the red tax return money bike my mom bought me in ninth grade. Then the white Panasonic that I bought with dish washer wages to ride from coast to coast the summer after high school. In college I got a Peugeot bicycle and rode that around campus and the Palouse until I graduated and moved to San Diego. There, I got hit by a car and the settlement bought me a new Cannondale worthy of a few triathlons along the ocean. That did fine until I hit the mean streets of New York City and I bought a hybrid. I loved that bike and took it to Europe where it was stolen from the vestible of a pension in Grand Canaria. Once back in the states and Idaho, I bought a mountain bike, a Gary Fisher, so I could ride around Gisborne Mountain while I was a fire lookout. Since then I also picked up a new Cannondale road bike that goes like the wind.


Whew, that was awesome for me. How was it for you?

Friday, July 30: I vote two wheels.

Day Two Hundred Ten: The Thin Line

How much is too much, and when is it not enough. Too much sun, or not enough vitamin D. A nice cruise on the bike or a body that can't recover from the push. Right now I am a roasted glow of over exposure to the sun from my bike rides and a couple of float trips. I am feeling the smooth rhythm that comes from riding often and consistently. I am feeling good and fast and sassy. 


I stopped smoking cigarettes just over six weeks ago. I think I started getting faster right after that. Duh. It took a couple weeks to stop hacking up all the crap from my lungs. But that part seems to be over. I am certain it was quickened by the daily rides.  I can breath deeply without phantom chest pains. Ridiculous, this obvious outcome. I love to ride, how I stopped or slowed that in the past I don't know why. I do know that without the bike, I am less than myself. Odd but true. 


And so, I ride.  


And then some days I think that I ride because I am lazy. It is so much easier to roll than to walk. I can sit down, there is coasting of course. My bike can carry packages and park close to the door. I don't have to go to the gym, or to the gas station as often. I always have an excuse for my windblown 'do and my salty smell.  


And at the end of the day, when the bike is resting, the body is ingesting, then resting, it is good to have a friend nearby. Danger is my friends cat and he is just recovering from a near death experience I swear. He was all skinny and wobbly. But the cat doctor poked and prodded and he seems to be getting better now. His coat is shiny again, though his eyes are still weepy. Oh, Danger.

Thursday, July 29: I heard live music and rode 25 miles today. I am inspired. 

Day Two Hundred Nine: Summer Rains

I am feeling the cold draft of my ambivalence blowing around again. I hate it when the wind shifts. Or I love it. I can't decide. But I don't care either. Not only do I have conflicting thoughts, I am insouciant as well.


Then again, everyday, I see instances of my own hypocrisy in action. When I am thoughtless in my reactions to things that I should have approached with more humility, more acceptance.  I need to be more flexible, supple, bendable to whatever the situation requires, looking for only the good. 


But then I say fuck all that and just get away. Cycling off into the sunset and away from whatever might ail me. Into the night and the stars.

Wednesday, July 28: pastel and pen on paper.

Day Two Hundred Eight: Times They Are A-Changin'

So, someone walked away with my phone for a time. We have the same one. No big deal right, sooner or later the mistake will be found and fixed... right?


Even in my sleep I contemplated my options. I keep wanting a better camera on my phone. Wait, are you hoping it is really lost and not just picked up by accident? No. I am sure he has it. It will be fine. But what if somehow it got damaged or lost along its journey... what is my upgrade possibility. Again? Really. 


It was nearly a disappointment to finally hear from him in the morning with the good news that he did indeed have my phone, sorry. So, I have to wait to find a better camera with a phone attached.


And so it goes. My muse-less state has me grasping at ideas like fireflies... just out of my reach. I still look skyward for help in times like these.

Tuesday, July 27: Hellbent on Stars in Acrylic paint, sharpie, pen and chalk. 18x24

Day Two Hundred Seven: In Your Face

Just when I think I am cruising along, happily distracted:  fate, the universe, god, dumb luck, coincidence or the Law of Attraction... something brings my fear, my emotional Achilles heel, my poignant passions to my face and drops them on me. I can't escape. I think I am over it, I think I forgot and have far too much else to do to even think about... And boom. It happens. Back where I started.


So I get vicious.


At least it feels that way to me. I cast my eyes away. I am distracted. I change the subject. I do a terrible job of being present when I really want to be away. No, I just need to smile and say nothing. That would really be the best of plans. Clear my mind, take a deep breath, and remember to love. Because the bottom line is, I do. 


Next time. Until then I want to go hide under a bridge.

Monday July 26: Face your Fears, Then run away.

Day Two Hundred Six: Familiar surroundings make me complacent

The same places day after day bring comfort to many people. Consistency is the key to their peace of mind. I on the other hand find my moods swing in the opposite direction from that. I get more and more uncomfortable when the tick-tock of passing time sounds the same day in and day out. When the time of day can be gleaned from the same activities occurring at that time. 


No, I thrive on variety, change, chance. 


Unknown possibilities abound at all times, it is just harder to see them through the fog of ordered days. Chaos is not exactly what I would choose, but a swirl of it passing by now and then blows the dust off my soul and reveals other paths to consider. 


So, I apologize for my erratic timing and strange choices in activities now and then. My appearance of insanity is sometimes the only thing that keeps me sane.


So, my consistency lies in my bike. It picks my friends and we ride.

Sunday, July 25: The bike chain ring print on my leg is what I want for a tattoo.

Day Two Hundred Five: Bikes build buddies

From here to the end of time, I will not have enough time to do all that I would like. I make art, and sometimes that process takes over and makes me. And sometimes that process takes over and stores it up for a later time.


Today was one of those.

Saturday, July 24: and then I was like......

Day Two Hundred Four: I swear off you forever

Some times the effort pays off and some times it is a learning experience not likely to be repeated again if I can help it. Last night was a learning experience. I learned that not everyone is ready to be loved. Especially me.
So I will just ride.

Friday, July 23: And that was that.

Day Two Hundred Three: I Am Flirting with Danger

Not that my activities are unusual, at least for me, but tonight, Danger flirts with me. Danger the perpetually small and young male cat that I love. He represents all that I look for in the world. Unassuming, claws but no bite, interest but no follow through. Suites well my bait with no hook, my gander with no vision, my wistful with little forethought.


Oh Me, you should think before you type.

Thursday, July 22: some strange shit I caught with my camera....

Day Two Hundred Two: Exhaustion Slows Progress

A bike ride in the early part of the morning sets me up for a fantastic rest of the day. However, if I am not careful, a late night will negate an early morning.


But I would rather ride in the rain in the dark than sit in a cubicle so I will take anytime or circumstance that presents itself. And smile.

Wednesday, July 21: sharpie on paper

Day Two Hundred One: Wow, what to fucking say

the normal work day happened. Then came the adventure... unbidden and unexpected. 


I had to deliver some art to a new venue. Seemed to be the usual stuff. except for this: they took all my art and... hung it for me. It felt like a big girl art show.  


I had a friend meet me there, the usual thing, a friend to stand around whilst  I stress out about where stuff goes.


No, this was different, the staff was the best, even though I was what I thought was a stranger awaiting the girl who arranged the show. Instead, I got a great beer out of the deal with the girl saying, "I know you, you're that smiley artist". Yes, yes I am.


While I waited for my friend (perpetually late) and enjoyed the beverage, my art was hung. While I chatted with my friend, several people approached me with the inquiry if I was the artist. Yes.. holy shit, I am.


I asked and now I get... I love me.

Tuesday, July 20: some other stuff happened after that.

Day Two Hundred: Time to Shoot Off a Sparkler

It was a nearly perfect day. I say nearly because I got passed on the bike ride today. Burn. I just need to ride faster. 


And I managed to pass a number of people today. However, the fun part was that I wore a skirt, and a frilly shirt. In short, I was dressed for work. With bike shorts under the skirt. 


I was cycle chic, with a surprising kick. I need a vase of flowers on my handlebars and I would be so styling.


Until then, I had a blast. And I made you this:

Monday, July 19: acrylic, pastel, pen on paper, 18x24

Day One Hundred Ninety Nine: A Good Day

A good weekend always has the best of everything restful, fun and full of good conversation and good friends. And this town is a good place for all that....

Sunday, July 18: photo

Day One Hundred Ninety Eight: Water and Rubber

Makes for a great float trip.

Saturday, July 17: photo

Day One Hundred Ninety Seven: The Bike Hole

Sometimes I get on my bike and the time disappears and I look up to find that the day has changed to the next, the night has considerably brightened, and I am off to find the next adventure. Saturday will bring floating on my raft on the lazy river with the fam. Summer rocks.


Which also reminds me, my pal Summer has her grand opening today. Her boutique is so freaking cute. I need to stop by. And there is a street fair there today as well. Summer rocks.


Hopefully there will be more bike riding today.


On to the event horizon:

Friday, July 16: fuzzy photo


I want to thank all my pals for being my pals. I have many stories to tell and I want to apologize now for making them funnier and totally from my warped vision.
That said, let the games begin.

Day One Hundred Ninety Six: Sometimes not enough is more than enough.

Like now

Thursday, July 15: Sharpie on watercolor paper: 

Day One Hundred Ninety Five: How long do smells last?

This morning I was doing some cleaning outside. There was a garbage can that needed to be emptied. However it had been outside for a while, rain had invaded. The tilt to the side had the most rancid water begin to pour out. The smell is as close as I can tell, rotten chickens and chicken coop smell. I immediately lost my egg and toast from breakfast. Once I was voided and could lose no more, I completed the task. The mess was dumped onto the trailer to the dump. 
Okay, back to other concerns... Except that nasty smell...


I took the hose out and washed out the can, hosed down the ground where the water dumped. I went and washed my hands. Then took a shower and changed all my clothing. Still the smell persisted. I assumed that it must have gotten on my shoes, removed them, washed them in the sink and set them to dry. Still the smell. I smelled it all day, at work, in my car, on my hands. Repeated washings did nothing, lotion did nothing.


I am supposing my nasal passage is scarred and scared right now. It can't forget.  
Sigh, I am sure that its a metaphor for something... I refuse to contemplate. 

Wednesday, July 14: pastel, acrylic, paper, 18"x24"

Day One Hundred Ninety Four: Put Me In My Place

Yeah, where is that really? 


Just don't let me take over. I eschew control over anyone. 


Let me create, in a beautiful space with people to inspire and love me wandering by. Oh, and some of my beautiful boys to play me some music. And my wonderful friends that love to cook, please show me all your secrets. My growing families: come play, let's build a fort and conquer the yard. And especially you my verbose and cock sure friends, I love to hear your thoughts. Yes, I love all of you whose vortex I stumble through. And those who are  undiscovered or unexplored, I adore you too. Let's play, let's love, let's make art, let's smile and laugh and be happy. Right Now.

Tuesday, July 13: Acrylic and pastel chalk and sharpie on paper, 18x24"




Encouragement comes from good places, new places, interesting places, sexy places, reliable places, funny places, challenging places. Thanks guys.




And if you where curious, detail:

Day One Hundred Ninety Three: Oh Jeez

Again. I question myself. How do I get back into the flow. The quiet completely non-judgmental brain. That is my daily prayer. Peace. In my own head.

Monday, July 12:  Sharpie on Paper, 9"x12"