I've been a bad bad girl

This is Fiona Messcat of The Woods. AKA Messy. She appeared in the woods around the house one day, and moved in. She is getting older now. Quite the hunter in her day, I would find headless snakes, squirrel and rabbit entrails, and piles of feathers out on the deck. Now she is content to sleep on her pillow, scream at us when she is hungry, and taunt the dogs. I love her neon green eyes. The One Who Feeds Her says she is a good cat. I have my doubts. I think she does things when we are not home.

What I need is a good defense
Cause I'm feelin like a criminal

Building a mystery....

Have you ever had something happen in your life that offers no explanation, but it seems like it was so totally meant to be? You ask the questions, but the answers only make more questions. I am learning to just let it be...take it for what it is, and not agonize over the whys and what ifs.

After all, if I truly believe some of my previous posts (which I do) I created these things. And my interaction and reaction to the people and the places. Don't know how I did it, but that is another question that I have stopped asking. I don't want the answer.

Just as the path is sometimes more rewarding than the destination, the questions are far more intriguing than the answers.

You come out at night
That's when the energy comes
And the dark side's light
And the vampires roam

You're so beautiful...a beautiful fucked up man.

Words by Sarah, of course.

She rode a horse into my head

No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle.

Words from Winston Churchill. He knew what he was talking about. An hour on Jesse yesterday cleared my head and blew out some of the insignificant crap put there by some rather insignificant people.

I have been reading a lot of blogs where people are listing the things they are grateful for. I am grateful that I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I please. It's that simple.

Be in Peace, babies.

It's times like these....

You learn to love again.

Time to get back to my music. THE music. I have been away from it too long.

I am a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
to hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
do I stay or run away
and leave it all behind?

Dave Grohl...acoustically foo fighting.

Cold irons bound....

Down on your knees, begging praying asking for forgiveness. Some people go to church on Sunday morning to do such things. I don't.

I'm bound by the fire
I'm bound by the beauty
I'm bound by desire
I'm bound by the duty

Words by Dylan and Jane Siberry. Construe them as you will.

UPDATE

HAHAHAHAHA...it's so good to be me. My dentist office does not open till 9. At 8:40 this morning, they call me..apparently some wild haired little birdie read my post, and told her man, who just happens to be my dentist, who told his office to call me and schedule an appointment ASAP. Seems I owe some people a really REALLY nice dinner...thanks lovies.

With teeth....

Ok, whomever is putting this bad mojo on me...STOP IT. Now I have either broken a tooth, or lost part of a filling. Which means a phone call to the dentist, begging them to fit me in sometime today to fix it. I don't have time for this. I don't have time for much lately, it seems. But I am not bitching. I am thankful that my life is at a point where I really don't have to do anything I really don't want to. The house is a mess, so what. Art is on hold, no big deal. No one is demanding anything from me right now. Which is good, cos I wouldn't give it to em anyway.

She comes along
She gets inside
She makes you better than anything you've tried
It's in her kiss
Black as sea
And it runs deeper than you dared to dream it could be
Wave good bye
To what you were
The rules have changed, the lines begin to blur
She makes you hard
It comes on strong
You finally found the place where you belong

With teeth.

NIN in the morning.

Back in the saddle again...

Today I got off the couch. I actually got dressed. And actually ate something. A double dose of morning monkey medicine did wonders. Left me exhausted and drained, but it did wonders. In fact, I felt so damn good about not feeling so damn crappy that I decided I needed to put my butt on a horse this afternoon. Which did even more wondrous things. While Mister Fix It and Mister Barn Owner worked on water troughs, I trotted around, happy to have 1000 pounds of horse flesh between my legs.

Tomorrow will be spent rescheduling all the things I had to cancel the past few days. Lunches, facials, massages....and other less critical appointments (like a meeting with my stockbroker to discuss the POSSIBILITY of a budget so Mister Above Referenced can retire and I can live in the manner to which I have become SO accustomed to). Oh joy.

Sick as a dog, what's your story...

I am STILL down. Which is a huge bummer, because I had a week full of cool things to do. The weather has warmed up, and all I can do is look out the window at it. Taking a bath, which I need desperately, or even thinking about eating is way too much to get my head around. I am full of anti-symptom drugs. As for sex and rock and roll, I have no interest. THAT'S how sick I am.

Sick as a dog, cos you really ain't that young.

Thank you, Mister Tyler (sex and drugs and rock and roll icon that you are) for those all so true, yet non-comforting words.

Mo' Better Blues

I was going to resume my daily ramblings today. But I am sick. Not the sniffly sneezy sick. The goo spewing, head exploding, gut retching sick. I don't just get a cold, I get the flu. I don't just get an infection, I get some alien mutant virus type thing trying to take over my entire body. I have been on the couch for 2 days now. Changed clothes once. Eaten nothing. Feel like crap. And get this. You would think that after going thru what I refer to as a very successful pharmaceutical period in my life, OTC cold medicines WOULD NOT effect me like I was dropping acid. The Tolerant One (and HE IS) found me this morning in the kitchen doing an Elvis impersonation, singing a song about space monkeys.

Last nite, as Mister Tolerant (and HE IS) was heading up to bed, he kissed me on the forehead, tentatively, so as not to catch any germs and said " You'll be mo' better in the morning, babe."

I am not mo' better. I am mo' sick.

Tomorrow's a day of mine that you won't be in

I am taking a hiatus. A vacation. A respite. A leave of absence. My world has gotten a little too virtual lately.

So blog away, babies, and I will catch up with you in a week or so. Maybe my heart will grow fonder. And maybe, JUST maybe, my desk will be cleared off, my taxes will be done, and all these little procrastination imps that are twisting around in my head will loose their battle.

A week without you
Thought I'd forget
Two weeks without you and I
Still haven't gotten over you yet

Vacation
Had to get away
Vacation
Meant to be spent alone

The Go-Go's

Schoolhouse rock

Things they don't teach you in art school, Part Two

There is a reason why they say not to use aerosol spray paint or varnish in a confined space. The result a new technique will produce is not what you want, necessarily. Not the first few times, at least. No matter how careful you are, or how diligently you clean your work space, little gobs of goo and bits of unidentifiable stuff end up embedded in the wet paint you just put on your work. Having an artist block is not a bad thing. It allows you to clean your house, wash the laundry, walk the dogs.

And the most important little gleening of the day ... blasting out at mega amps the opening riff of Joe Perry and Steve Tyler (ROCK GODS that they are) doing Walk This Way first thing in the morning leads to no good. Rocking out with fully loaded paint brushes, open jars of matte medium, wearing something you really don't want to get copper paint on ... this is no good.

Just give me a kiss....like this.

Blues in the night....

Today was a total bummer. I thought something was going to happen, it didn't. I thought I could handle it, I couldn't. All I could do was curl up on the couch, in some embryonic waif position, and sleep.

Tomorrow Miss Ei and moi are going shopping for horse stuff. She wants pretty boots. I am hoping the excursion will clear my mind a bit, so I can figure out how to fix all of this.

Here we are again
and we're looking at each other as if each other were to blame.
You think you're so smart, but I've seen you naked
and I'll probably see you naked again.

Barenaked Ladies.
I should have been so lucky this morning as to be one.

Black Dog Blues

The boys.

Lucas (real name..Holly's Voodoo Chile Lucas) and Zak (real name..Zak). Together, a few hundred pounds of gangsta canine mentality. The furniture moving, sock eating, un-neutered joys of my life. Finding toys for them (other than firewood or patio furniture) is almost impossible. Lucas, the rottie, can crush one of those indestructible Kong toys in his jaws. And Zak can pretty much chew and swallow anything before I can wrench it from his mouth. Delivery men just throw the packages out of their trucks in the driveway. Any critter, including turtles, who venture into their yard space are doomed. But at least I know I am protected from intruders, interlopers and those Jehovah's Witness people.

Dog eat dog, eat cat too.
French eat frog, and I eat you.

AC/DC

She got diamonds on the soles of her shoes...

The top picture, WHICH I LOVE, I snagged from Miss Ei's blog. With her permission. Luckily, she is not one who puts little copyright images on her work. The boot pic is an example of my over-materialistic need to have everything, and more of it. Besides, when it comes to black leather riding boots, is there really ever a limit?

http://well-im-not-the-only-one.blogspot.com/ Again, check this chicky out.

She makes the sign of a teaspoon
He makes the sign of a wave
The poor boy changes clothes
And puts on after-shave
To compensate for his ordinary shoes

Paul Simon, of course.

Paint it black....

Back to my old blog template. I missed the black.

After a morning of incredible time spent on a horse, I am off to my studio. I feel to the need to run my hands over the almost dry ass of the torso thing I am working on. This has turned into another experiment of technique. Plaster tape, covered by a thin layer of instant paper mache. So far, I am not all that impressed with the results. Maybe I should just go old school, and revert back to strips of newspaper and gooey mess of water of flour.

Welcome to my world
Involve yourself within my dream
Experience a life
Just like your mind thought not to be
Take a look through time
As past or present words to be
I rule this inferno
Enthroned for eternity

Stones and Spirit in Black, by Slayer.

Everybody's got something to hide....

Cept for me and my monkey.

Those who know, don't need to ask. Those who don't, I couldn't explain.

If you want to kiss the sky
Better learn how to kneel

Beatles and Bono.

Sometimes a Jimi thing slides my way....

I don't have anything to say today. Which is a rarity in itself.

I looked into my crystal ball...
There was formed a tragedy
Oh, but there is nothing to worry about...
It was just a flash from my memory

James Marshall Hendrix

( picture courtesy of Mister Peabodys' Way Back Machine)

And it stoned me to my soul....

A gift from Miss Ei. Just because. The picture does not do it justice, the colors are much more deep and intense. I love it. His name will come to me in a dream.

Check her site out...while I was standing around holding horses, she was taking some incredible images. She has an eye for such things.

http://well-im-not-the-only-one.blogspot.com/

Today will be a good day. Intensity this morning, then a lesson with my horse trainer this afternoon, providing the rain holds. I have already been up on the roof shaking my chicken bones and talking in tongues. I REALLY want to ride today. Something about getting on a horse after intensity....