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Showing posts from January, 2008


Like a tiny heartbeat that will not die, I still manage to keep my eyes open for scrap opportunities. Saw someone post on freecycle a few bags of nuts and bolts so I went for it. I don't like buying and using new hardware if I can help it even if it is a challenge to find a pair that fits and isn't so rusty that I can't screw the nut on.

Tod mentioned last night that in about six weeks the taxi biz will die off, the tourists will peter down to nothing and the drivers will be fighting like feral animals for scraps of work. Indeed it has already slowed down and tips are dwindling as well. Oh well, hopefully I'll use that time to get some work done. I've given up getting anything done for the show in a few weeks but hope to have something for the May show. I keep going in my studio and laying things out, trying to find the perfect assemblage pieces for my photography. I'm more obsessed with driving the cab to tell the truth. I'm crawling out of my poverty cave…

peaceful warrior

(click title to go to link) movie on cable i started watching last night and had to tape when i dashed off to work during it. i watched the rest of it today. while i was driving and panicking today ( i had to go much farther than normal and got antsy and freaky while driving in silence with strangers) i actually recounted things from this movie. i'm currently reading a book about being in the moment called : the mindful way through depression, freeing yourself from chronic unhappiness.

been there done that how many times? the whole zen be here now thing. well i guess it needs to be cumulative for me to 'get it'. what i really liked about the movie was that it is based on a real story and this person didn't get everything handed to him. his dream wasn't attained overnight and he realized through his journey that regardless it IS the journey. not the dream. it IS the doing. not the having. maybe i'mpmsy and just open to silliness but the movie got to me. hence, a …

the metamorphosis

my body is becoming segmented and wiry. i carry great loads on my back that would crush lesser insects. kafka has nothing on me. i believe i am turning into an ant. a large black worker ant that moves about fast and furious. into the taxi i crawl, my many legs vacuuming, checking fluids, opening doors, tossing in ski's and luggage. suddenly i am becoming gregarious and able hold conversation with a van load of strangers.

that's about all I'm doing. driving. i can see i am going to have to totally re-adjust to my life as i know it. if i wait for the time to make art again i probably wont for years so i'm forcing myself to go into the basement when i think i might have a free hour. the phone rings alot and i have to be ready to leave NOW. not good when you are adorned with ear/eye/mouth masks and drilling or cutting something. tod is out of town and i was hoping for time and space but once again more people are staying at the house and there is an obvious gap at work wit…

realtors and art

It's nice to think I haven't lost all my readers. Thank you for the comments! I have to wonder if this is even an art blog at this point, maybe I will have to morph it into a taxi blog. As I write this, literally, three strangers just walked into my space, behind my body as I type. (the realtor telling the trio that this would make a great room for the kids to hang out in...NO IT IS WHERE THE CARETAKERS LIVE) And now they are in my art studio. I feel completely exposed and violated. Not to mention sick. I have to wonder what the reason is behind me not having art space anymore. I know for sure that I'm not going to be making art anytime soon....the long days and nights of being on call and driving are not conducive to getting into the zone. And I know if I have to move I will have to throw out all of my scrap/found objects and possibly art. Am I supposed to be a cab driver now? I guess I am.

taxi segue

Until art poureth out of me it's all about the taxi. I thought I would work on art Saturday after my two hour session with the lady on the mountain, but Martin Luther King has inadvertently reeked havoc on the tourist town I live in. Football games, drinking, music, more was a busy time for the cabbie's and I volunteered myself into the mix.

I still get shaky and feel like I'm going to implode/explode simultaneously the first ride or so, but the little local rides up and down the mountain road are becoming less harrowing. There was a time I could not go past a certain point on that mountain road. Night or day, it felt like I would reach a point of no return. Now I feel less trepidation but still pray I don't have to delve off the main road onto the dozens of dark tributaries of dirt roads. It still depends greatly on the type of person(s) I pick up....stuff the vehicle with stoic quiet people who exude aires of superiority and I am predisposed to tics of …

first coherent post of the year

He looks sad and miserable. That's kind of how I look when I think about money. Why wouldn't they put someone happy on our currency? Why not put a clown or someone sitting at a gambling table pulling in all the chips? Why not have Marilyn Monroe wrapped nude around a friffy boa on red satin holding a stash of cash in her teeth? Everything is so somber and serious when it comes to money in reality.

I've not made art for close to two months. I thought I would give the taxi thing a try. Which, sorry readers to bore you with my spiel, but sometimes new people stop by....which means more than just work. It means working on my panic issues which normally don't come to a head unless I find myself feeling trapped in situations. Needless to say, sitting in a vehicle for any length of time with a complete stranger, sometimes a handful of them at once, doesn't bode well for panic attacks. I've been lucky enough to be able to pick and choose, no one else in their right min…