A Quiet Week at Last!

I was gifted with a loud voice.  We are talking sonic boom kind of vocals.  So I constantly wonder why I end up working in places that demand quiet.  It makes no sense to me.  Is it a cruel joke that I’m not quite getting?

I suppose it is because I am an introvert.  I like working in small establishments.  But I have been given a voice that demands a large audience.

I am not ashamed of my voice.  It is mine.  I cannot regulate it much.  When I try, I go so low no one can hear me.  My volume control dial has two settings, off and 2 notches from max.  Not a shrill voice, it is deep, but I can blast speakers and glass in equal measure when I get excited.  I am often teased I never have to use the phone to call someone.

The only defense I have is to not speak at all, which is effective, but not always a viable alternative.  There are times when I need to be heard, although some might argue that point.

There are celebrations when I get laryngitis.  My friend says “Ah, a quiet weekend at last!”

So, I write.  I draw.  I photograph.  All is quiet and good.

It is a good thing I like to be alone.  I actually hate noise and revere solitude and silence.  So it is very ironic to have these vocals.

There were times when my voice was appreciated.  In school I was encouraged, fortunately, to speak clearly, and eliminate the ‘ums’, ‘like’, ‘ya know what I mean’ and the infamous ‘eh’ from my vocabulary.  But it wasn’t too often I was willing to speak, I was very shy.  I can remember being physically ill having to do class presentations.  But get me on a subject I am passionate about!  Then I let loose!  Imagine – I volunteered to give a speech on a topic I was enthusiastic about, and I did!  Life is strange.

Perhaps my volume was never meant to be a curse but a gift to be used in a way I’ve never considered or overlooked.  I’d make a good PA system.  I’d never be lost for long, people could find me a hundred miles off.

Anyhow, I am stuck with it and my office suffers me and well –

When I retire no one will hear a sound.

A quiet week at last!

Spring Cleaning

Last Monday an ice storm, today a summer like day.

How lovely to air out the apartment after such a long and brutal winter.  As I sweep away the remnants of winter, Sam, my white cat, assists by rolling next to my broom until we are both coloured grey.  It is all good.

As stale air is replaced by fresh air, I rearrange furniture, wash plants and ornaments and feel that heaviness lift.  Sam zooms around the rooms and helps to do the spring cleaning and rearranging in his own way.

My oxalis is up and straining for sun.  Three maples trees have survived the drab winter months.  All my indoor plants are perking up.  The violets are blooming.

I sit outside for awhile and watch the world around me renew itself.  A cardinal is singing his heart out, a bright orange red splash against a blue sky.  A woodpecker flits from tree to tree waking up the insects.  A seagull circles high above me, his white wings catching the sun.   A brown rabbit is checking out everyone’s flower beds for emerging shoots.  The trees are ready to burst into leaf.  It is a grand day on the edge of spring.  A good day to spring clean my mind!

Today, I refuse to look at the news.  I don’t care about idiot politics or gossip or any bad thing predicted or happening or otherwise.  I don’t care about work and all that drudgery, boredom, problems, or money, whatever.  Today is a day of celebration, of joy!

I’ll get back to finishing the spring cleaning eventually.  There is always tomorrow, or later, or never.

The Next Big Thing

So, young Mark Zuckerberg looks like a robot.  Well, the man is probably scared shitless, don’t you think?  He is under intense scrutiny. Viewed by millions – possibly the entire world.  Exactly what kind of condition would you be in if this was happening to you?  Mr. Zuckerberg is on trial for the way he looks, sits, acts, speaks and drinks water.  And, oh yeah, for this bit about Facebook . . .

Not that I sympathize with him.  No, not at all.  I mean – isn’t it very fitting that he should be so exposed?

There is a lot of irony to this Facebook fiasco.  We embrace social media, expose ourselves globally, sometimes embarrassingly, then condemn it when it bites us.  Even the founder himself feels the same way!

It is just we are focusing on the wrong things here.

There is also a lot of talk about how this is an issue of technology out of control, we’re losing autonomy, and much more – yes, this is all true.  These are all things we need to address.

But this is not the core issue.

The real crux are problems we’ve had since we invented corporations.

Corruption.  Greed.  Power.

Corporate greed.  Corporate corruption.  Corporate power.

I know, the same old ho-hum stuff.

But Oh! How we love Hollywood!  Celebrity.  Drama.  Political intrigue.  The cover ups, the lies, back tracking and stabbing, fudging, until the whole thing becomes so muddled we don’t know what the truth is. Talk, shock and analyzing. Grab a beer, a bowl of popcorn and sit in front of the telly and catch the latest news.  Overdose on the web, newspapers, magazines, talk shows, documentaries, and commentaries.  Yammer away with friends and family.  Soap operas are the zest and lust of human life.

And what comes from all this?

Not much.

As it fades, we wait for the next big thing.

We don’t want to solve these problems.  We enjoy the theatrics too much!

Next!

Better Things To Do

After a shitty day at work I come home to my usual answering machine full of threatening and hateful messages from various telemarketers and the like.  Every day a terse threat from Google to update my business listing (I don’t even have a business listing – I also get these calls every day at work – just STOP it).  I get calls from telemarketers asking for Mr. or Mrs. and my last name totally mispronounced.  There are threats that I am up for litigation, or fines, or the Revenue service is after me.  I am extremely popular.

The other day was a particularly crappy day and I got an email from some goof apologizing for his bad English and then threatening to e-mail all my contacts a film of me masturbating if I don’t send 300 Bit Coins to his account.  Oh just shut up, grow up, and stop.

I am sick of this crap.  You scammers and the like, use your brains for something useful.  You are intelligent.  The world is in trouble.  We need people to solve problems, not to create more.

Do you not realize the pain and suffering you cause people who are already overloaded with pain and suffering in their day to day lives?  We have loss, depression, heartache, death, disease – just like YOU.  We have nasty bosses, angry customers.  We are overworked, underpaid.  We are frustrated.  How do you feel when you or your loved ones get such hateful emails and phone messages?  Or do you not look that far ahead?

You spend all day dreaming up these scams to terrorize, spend hours making them real and then dump them on the world like a toxic oil spill.  Why don’t you use all this time and energy to get educated, get a decent job and create things instead of destroying?  How do you want to be remembered – by the world, by your family?  As a loser scammer or someone who did something wonderful for people and the world?

I have had a rough week, and normally I just say PFFFFTTT!  But I am fed up with people who waste not only my time, but the entire worlds time.  People with intelligence who choose the dark side instead of helping.  There are better things to do.

Buy Yourself Some Roses

My cat Sam is an active little cat, with long legs that propel him in a single bound over several pieces of furniture to his perch on the cat tree.  They also enable him to gallop wildly around the apartment, launching paper, ornaments and anything else once stationary, into space.

He is at once my inspiration and my critic.  His energy calls me to action, to create art, books and blog.  Sam then shows his gratitude by eating my works.

Always glad to see me after work, he covers me with kisses, nips and wads of white fur head to toe.  I ignore him to my peril; he is a four footed demolition crew, and if I dare to go to bed before he is ready, his mournful cries make one think he is dying a slow and painful death.

See my books A Pleasant Day with Sam and Another Pleasant Day With Sam.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sam inspired me to create a new book, Buy Yourself Some Roses, about getting your dreams.  But I really learned how to get my dreams before Sams’ help when I decided to make time to do them.

But not just any old time.

I tried and failed a thousand times to schedule my free time to do what I love.  Scheduled so much I began to hate my free time!  I could not follow it long.  Frustration!

My first book, way back in 2005, was done in only 5-10 minutes each morning before I went to work.  I was amazed at how much drawing I could do in such a short increment of time.  Also surprising was how hard it was to limit myself to a few minutes (I was often then late for work. . .)

I have since learned from books like The Miracle Morning by Hal Elrod, that mornings are the best time to do your dreams.  So I began to allot one half hour to my art and one to physical exercise before doing anything else.

Since that decision, I have published 8 books in only 2 years and started this blog.  I suffered an injury (as noted in previous blogs) that derailed my exercise routine, but I am now back on track.

I know that right action combined with the right time will make your dreams reality.  Treat yourself as number one, the one that matters first in your busy days.  The one who deserves a dozen red roses.

Check out my new book to see for yourself.  Just ask Sam!

My cat will show you how easy it is to get your dreams.  Amazon.com

A New World Order

We are on the verge of establishing a new way of doing everything on this planet.

And this will be done by women.

Any ideology, religion or whatever that subjugates women is doomed to become extinct.  These are the very platforms that have wreaked so much havoc in our world.  They need to be thrown out. Because everyone, everyone – man, woman, child, creature, planet – is bone weary of bloodshed, disrespect of body, person, creature and environment.  Fed up with constant destruction, denigration, poverty, pollution.

Women represent life, love, replenishment, rebuilding, rebirth, nurturing, justice.  Positive qualities that will ultimately save our sorry state.

Our space exploration program needs to find a habitable planet to send those who want to continually blow everything and everyone up to, so they can war until they are all spent. There is no place or time left for such bad behaviour here any more.

There is only one rule to live by.  The Golden Rule.  And women are golden.

Many have tried to corrupt us to become killers and destroyers, but they cannot ultimately succeed.  Our nature is not thus and the majority of us just aren’t buying it.  Women need to embrace the phenomenal inherent strength of their gender. Go forward and change this world into the paradise it was intended to be. Just look at what the Me Too movement has accomplished.  Empires destroyed.  Just from our collective voices.

The time for change is over due.  This is not to demoralize or emasculate men.  It is not to pit one religion against another, to wave banners, or select one political system over another.   This is to restore our world, which benefits all everywhere.  That is what needs to be done now.  A new world order.  Women are leading the way.  I suspect they always have.

Life (and Death) is Messy

When my Mother died and I was a bit distressed about the details, my Brother gave me good advice “Death is messy.  Let it go.”

Well, so is life.

Low self esteem used to be a big issue, but a greater problem exists in our society – perfectionism.  The two may be related.

People want everything perfect, our standards impossibly high and for, what, exactly?

Does having the perfect anything bring happiness?  Joy?  Egads – satisfaction?!

Satisfaction comes from accepting what is, the flaws, those minor annoyances that make us human and our lives unique.  Perfection, if it can be attained, cannot be sustained.  Satisfaction comes from making do.

I know people who are miserable over millimeters.  They measure everything, demand symmetry that only micrometers could detect.  They live in fear and torment because life will not give them perfection.  But I ask, what does having everything perfect give you?  And do you think that anyone even remotely cares or notices?  Seriously now.  Life is very, very messy.

Flawless.  What do you have that is flawless, except in your own eyes?  It is by your own standards.  To you your car is a piece of junk, to another it is like gold.  Your spouse is a chump, to another, Adonis or Aphrodite.

There are flaws and sometimes blatant mistakes in all I create.  Errors in perspective, colours, proportions in my art.  Spelling, grammar, punctuation in my writing.  I do the best I can, I am not deliberately sloppy, but I am human.  Many creatives are using computers to make flawless drawings, mesmerizing photo’s and films, and it is all good, but a tad sterile.  Don’t we all love the bloopers?  The vapour trails in a sky in a film about cavemen?  3D printers are awesome, but I’d rather have something made by hand.  The flawed item has a bit of its’ creator in it.

Which, by the way, we are.

Joy List

What do you do when a project you enjoyed is done?  When the book is published, the house built, the vacation over, you got your degree?

Well, you start another!

Better yet, have several fun things waiting for your attention.

I don’t have much celebration time upon completing a fun project.  I have several more waiting in line for me, some have been languishing for years!  So I have a cup of tea and start the next thing.

Don’t presume I am a type A person, or I am super busy.  I have plenty of down time and I am rather phlegmatic.  But anything I enjoy I can spend long periods of time at (including doing nothing).  Yesterday I spent 8 hours preparing and publishing our latest book, with only a few pee breaks.  When you love what you do this is nothing.  8 hours is 5 minutes.  Joyless activities are 5 minutes equals 8 hours.

Joy is my reason for living.  I don’t have any purpose or meaning beyond that.

Laugh, sing, make some noise – enjoy your life!

I wish I had that philosophy 40 years ago, but I do now and am striving to make Joy a full time habit and get back those lost years.  There are a lot of meaningless, tedious things I still need to get rid of.  So I encourage you to make joy your priority and don’t waste another minute.  Even if joy is a cat on your lap purring your time away.  Don’t you believe for a second that your life needs to be full of things you have to do that you loathe.  It does not!  I have lived this lie long enough!  Have to, should do, must do . . . ugh!

Have a joy list, those are the only projects worth pursuing.  When you finish one, there’s more joy waiting for you.  Isn’t that a great way to live?

Pat Ltd.

Well, it finally happened.

That sore knee I’ve been experiencing since last summer locked solid at the worst possible time.  Our office was being renovated and that entailed a lot of heavy lifting, moving, cleaning and leg bending, only my leg wouldn’t bend.  At all.  And, oh, was it painful!

X-rays revealed nothing, so I dragged my leg, literally, to a physiotherapist.  Without going into details, in an hour I was walking and bending my knee.  Following his exercise instructions I am now 70% better in only 3 weeks.

The whole point of this story is not that I am stubborn, loathe going to doctors, and would like a bit of sympathy (although it is all true). I discovered something new about my favourite subject – taking action.  I harp on this topic and yet am so obviously guilty of not doing it at times, or at least, not doing the right action.

There is never any absolute certainty as to what is the right action to take until after the fact. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Some things call loudly for no action, let sleeping dogs lie, as it were.  I pretty much know when that happens, although sometimes I can’t stop myself.

My knee reminded me that I am guilty of assumptions and errors in judgement, and I have false, unfounded limiting beliefs.  Heavy stuff.  And, oh yeah, I’m just a human.

I accepted an unacceptable situation and did not take action because:

  • I’m getting old
  • This is normal for my age
  • I am paying for all the running, cycling, ballet, gymnastics etc. I did in my youth (and all other unmentionable, but fun activities)
  • I am gradually just going to totally seize up
  • I’ll never be able to do physical things again
  • Physiotherapists are not real doctors and can’t help me

Wrong on all counts!  Turns out my ‘real’ doctor had not a clue what was wrong with me, except to suggest physiotherapy.  The sports medicine Physiotherapist took one look at me, knew exactly what it was and how to fix.  There was some yelling involved.

I am grateful for the painful experience.

I did not realize I had so many limiting beliefs until they were tested.  Not only can I now walk, use stairs, and have graduated from the school of funny walks, but all the things I used to enjoy are once again, possibilities.  Sometimes it is good to be wrong about stuff.

When I get discouraged I can read about this experience and perhaps challenge myself to discover and overcome newly revealed limiting beliefs.  That is, take action.

Or not.

A Thousand Pictures

One of the best ways to preserve photographs is to create photobooks.  It is also one of the most expensive.  However, people are more receptive to look at your work in a book than a photo album or heaven forbid, a slide show.  Nothing can chill a heart faster than “Let’s look at slides of my last vacation!”, unless of course, you signed up for a guided tour beforehand.

In the 70’s if you saw someone haul out the 500 lb. slide projector after dinner you were in big trouble.  Worse, your Mother dusts off the album of you in your diapers and plops down beside your beau.  Yipes!

A picture is worth a thousand words, but for some, a thousand pictures is worth only one word.

Monty Python had a fabulous take on this: “Here’s Ted beside the house…and there’s Ted in front of the house, and oh, look!  There’s Ted behind the house…” while the captive audience tears up and throws each handed picture away.

One of my Mothers favourite photo albums was pictures of people she went on a trip with to Portugal.  She couldn’t remember who they were, she was just happy to have had so many friends at once!  Mom loved to be adored, she was a bit of a diva.

I loved a photobook a friend did of her trip to Africa.  It was so good I requested some of the photo’s for myself.  Others however bring their books out as bragging rights to exotic places I’ll never get to see.

Perhaps the worst bragging rights belongs to Professionals, who being paid to give a talk on their chosen profession, begin the talk with slides of their pregnant wife.  Eeewww!

The absolute worse case belongs to a sales rep who came to our business with an album of his wife giving birth.  In colour.  He insisted we look at every picture (and there were a lot) while he gave us a running commentary.  Ugh!

And then there was the man who dropped off a photo album for me at my office, which contained pictures of women in bondage.  Sorry – but that did not go unpunished, I reported him.

So come to think of it, all my photo’s of Sam, sunsets, forests, lakes and the odd awful selfie don’t seem so bad after all.  I won’t make you look at all of them.  Maybe, just one….or two…