Not feeling terribly well (physically) today so sticking to a picture rather than words. Or maybe I’ll hazard one word: crazy.
Posted tagged ‘iPad art’
Crazy (in Pic)
February 8, 2012Noveling – Can’t Pull It Out Of A Hat At the End of the Day
January 30, 2012
I’ve been trying, trying, trying, to revise a novel over the last several days. The problems have been (i) that the novel needs major restructuring – i.e. cuts; (ii) that the novel needs major restructuring – i.e. flashbacks; and (iii) that the novel needs major restructuring – i.e. a different author.
Even several nights up till 2 a.m. have not done the trick.
I have made progress–i.e. I’ve cut a few whole pages and lots and lots of dangling modifiers.
But my hope that I can get a reasonable version done before the end of this week–a deadline for a contest submission–is definitely waning.
The whole thing brings up the extremely unpleasant understanding that I really can’t pull everything out of the hat at the end of the day. The impossible is, sometimes, in fact, impossible. i.e. ugh.
Question of the hour: is it still worth trying?
Answer of the hour: probably not tonight.
(P.S. In the meantime, I have a short, quick, funny novel out called NOSE DIVE. It’s only 99 cents on Kindle–a bit more in paperback. Check it out!)
Art Therapy (With Elephants)
January 9, 2012
As followers of this blog know, I lost my dear father last week. He had been declining for some time, but his death has still been very sad, especially for my mother, his spouse for over sixty years. The above is a collaborative drawing of my mother, myself, my husband and my iPad2 done during the preparation of the first dinner we’ve actually been able to cook since my dad’s death. (Doing normal everyday things like cooking is difficult after a death. In my case, this difficulty is compounded by the fact that my mom has an electric stove, and I’m an absolute devotee of cooking with gas.)
One activity that is quite wonderful after a death, however, or perhaps after any trauma, is the making of visual art–even not-such-great art like the painting above. There is something absolutely engaging about making images, one’s own world, a new world–a world that, if you don’t have complete control over your medium, is full of surprises, and yet still self-contained. It is probably more fun to do the art with paper and brushes, but those may be more dicey to whip out in the midst of food preparation.
As always, I recommend the Brushes App for those working on iPads.
Magpie Tale – Odd Poem on Baldness (“Arched/Domed”)
January 8, 2012
This is an odd poem written for Tess Kincaid’s Magpie TalesMagpie Tales. Tess posts a photographic prompt. I prefer to use my own art in my blog, so do my own version of Tess’s photo. And here’s the poem:
Arched/Domed
There is arched baldness and there is domed baldness,
Polished baldness and (simply) overly-shiny baldness,
Smooth baldness and whiskery baldness,
Waxed baldness (hair shaved) and waned baldness (hair receding),
Diabolic baldness and sweet baldness,
Destroyer-of-worlds baldness and lab-scientist-with-oddly-ruffled-
sides baldness.
The sweet (domed) baldness sits above a chest on which
one feels safe to rest one’s head,
While the arched baldness overlooks an
appraising brow.
You may wonder how I know
so much about no-hair.
Wonder on.
Food, Mattresses, Eulogy?
January 7, 2012
Too-quick drawing of my sweet dad
It is hard to explain how much there is to do after a death. It is a crazy time, so rushed historically because of the fragile nature of the body, and now because of the difficult interplay of multiple schedules.
So what are some of the tasks?
Picking out clothes to take to the funeral home. Something nice, but perhaps not too nice. (You won’t get them back.) In accordance with family regulations, you must make any family member near the same size try on selected outfits first to make sure that any clothes chosen are not things that might have remained with the living.
Buying food. More food. Sandwiches? Shrimp? Is Champagne weird? If not, should we get the one whose name is like that of an old friend? (Yes.)
Calling people. Writing people. Sitting with those who come to visit. Accepting hugs.
Cleaning. Going into the decedent’s room and discretely taking out the more unpleasant reminders: rubber gloves–compressed oxygen.
Getting beds organized. Airplane tickets. Car pick-ups. Mattresses. Sheets. More food.
Cleaning out the fridge–Ensures don’t need to be refrigerated and space is needed for all that food.
Negotiating funeral program. Reading Bible verses. Considering non-Bible Verses. Hurriedly drawing sketch that can be printed on a small-town church printing system.
Music?
Of course, music.
Oh dear, music!
Photographs.
Helping to pick out clothes for the widow. Promoting the benefits of hearing aids. Assuaging grief.
Grieving.
Organizing more food.
And more clean up.
A eulogy.
Mattresses.
Magpie Tale 97 – The Bite of Eve
December 28, 2011
Here’s a delayed Magpie Tales, a post based on a prompt from Tess Kincaid. Tess’s prompt was a picture of Marilyn Monroe laughing, but, frankly, I’d just about as soon be shot as write about Marilyn Monroe during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, so instead, I’ve focused just on a certain aspect of the photo, which I have re-done in my own manner above. (Please note that the poem is not intended to be about Marilyn–I’m just focusing on the mouth/tooth of the picture.)
The bite of Eve
A spirit of conviviality
is often partly propped
by good strong teeth.
Eve had to bite
in
to
the apple.
How unfairly difficult it seems
for the dentally-challenged
to sink their flailing
chompers into
an open-throated laugh. That bit
of the predator that seizes
humor, shaking it above
a thrown-back head as it
proclaims inside
I got it,
somehow denied
by the decay of those
squared sharp gates, blocked by
the absent bars
of canine, those
enforcers, you know, of
a certain kind
of kiss.
Flash 55 – Mystery of Christmas (A Clue)
December 23, 2011
The Mystery of Christmas (A Clue)
The best–clue-making: cryptic rhymes taped to wrapping.
The pleasure: watching them strain to figure me out–giving hints that told all (if they could but understand).
The few “real” presents opened, I’d run from tree to basement to gather old books, clothes, knickknacks–anything to wrap and encode, to transform into my gift.
The above is my offering to the G-Man for Friday Flash Fiction 55. Have a happy holiday.
(Also–check out the “Villain-elle” from yesterday, illustrated with elephants. Unfortunately, in the midst of holiday season, I dropped an elephant painting when I posted, but I’ve got them all in now.)
MagPie 96- Wearing the Trousers in Macbeth (In English Class With Two Ringed Braids)
December 20, 2011
Here is a poem for Magpie Tales 96 and also dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night. This is based on a photographic prompt from Tess Kincaid, which was of a woman in a shadow that appeared to be a beard. (It’s not so clear in my version above.) Below is my poem:
English Essay In Two Ringed Braids
In English class in post-colonial school,
the study of idioms, literature
and exposition are assayed with
diligence: “some
complain that Shakespeare is
dull as ditchwater but in
the pages of MacBeth
may be found
a rip-roaring
ride. Lady
Macbeth wears the trousers
in the family at the
beginning of
the play, but by Act V, Macbeth
has taken the trousers
back while the Lady
throws the baby out
with the bathwater, as it were, going mad.
Macbeth, in the meantime,
adds suspenders
to his belt, killing one and all
till he feels as certain of
the throne as Bob’s
his uncle, but he cannot
see the forest for
the trees, coming
to a very bad end.”
The girl writing the essay wears
her hair in braids, which curl into
two ravenshone rings, elastics
camouflaged, in
each case, by
a large white bow, looped
to emulate both butterfly
and lotus,
wing and bloom,
and too, the “x”
of “betwixt,” all
in one
fell swoop.
And now a question for decisive poets and readers out there–I contemplated changing the last couple of lines to refer to the “cross” in “betwixt” rather than the “x”. That seemed a bit heavy-handed to me, but I am curious to see if anyone thinks it would be an improvement. Also toyed with “braces” in place of suspenders, but, well, I live in NYC. Thanks much for your thoughts.
(And please please please check out my new comic novel NOSE DIVE on Amazon if you have a mo.)
Flash 55 – Doctors/Nurses Texting In OR (Mine is Only 55 Words.)
December 16, 2011
Doctors, nurses, online in the OR.
Makes sense (sort of): human eyes evolved to catch light flickers–maybe the next meal, or predator, while that tabled blob of flesh? He’s not even edible! (By most.)
Little screens, mirrors, handheld reflectors, our customized world. While the aforesaid blob–a wristband–wait!
A sale! Prices slashed!!!!
Oops….
(The above is my 55 word Flash Friday about all those nurses and doctors texting in the OR, then going out into their cars and texting some more. A sure way to keep the hospitals filled! Tell it to the G-Man. And have a great weekend.)
Friday Flash 55 – Talking About A Minor Accident
December 9, 2011
Minor Accident (Much Spoken of)
“It might have been a good idea to do yoga BEFORE that glass of wine,” said the door jamb to the hand that had just banged it. At least that’s what the jamb implied.
“Your fault,” the hand replied sullenly–well, silently. (Mad.)
“Shush,” I tell them both. “We’re trying to do some yoga here.”
The above story (minus title and any ouches) is 55 words, so go tell it to the G-Man.
And have a great weekend.
(And check out NOSE DIVE.)
THANKS!
ManicDDaily 
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