Jun 4, 2018

Where Are They?

We walked past two empty parks, all the way to the library where we discovered an empty maker's space and one lone man willing to talk to us all day about how to use the 3-d printer.  He was excited to meet a kid who invented things, but couldn't really help us because we weren't teenagers, he directed us to a class about deconstructing toys in a few weeks and we took the brochure.  We left him sad and standing in the middle of his cold empty maker's space while we headed to the young readers floor. 

On the second floor, surrounded by children's books, we saw one kid who was sitting with her tutor at a tiny round table, in a tiny chair working at reading a tiny book, neither of them tried to steal a glance at us, even when we walked real close.  We found some books about science experiments to do in the kitchen and briefly stared at a lone frog listlessly floating around in his tank on the librarians desk before we left.

We walked past two empty parks again and through a neighborhood filled with family homes standing silently in the sunny 74 degree day.  Unfettered sprinklers, very plainly watered perfect lawns, with no body running through them.  One kid rode his bike down the sidewalk behind his mom.  As they passed, his mom said hello but he averted his eyes from ours and then they were gone as fast as they came. We scouted for sidewalk chalk art, finding none, we resorted to looking for lime-bikes, and feathers.

May 28, 2018

Quadruple Rant

I hurt my iris.  Not on purpose, it just happened and I'm pissed and it's not healing fast enough.  I can't wear contacts while it heals and I bought expensive glasses in the mean time but I still pine for my contact lenses every minute of the day - I want to get lasik asap now. Fuck a broken iris.


I haven't skated in two weeks because of my eye and so tonight I went and walked far and long and fast and I walked a hole in the bottom my my foot.  Fuck blisters from shitty shoes.


It's finally warm outside (ok a little hot in fact) and everyone has their AC cranked and I'm cold when I walk into places.  Fuck overusing the AC.


Fuck plastic bags. and straws and water bottles and all the other single use garbage bullshit people toss. 

May 2, 2018


I dragged all those things I didn't need anymore to the curb in a futile attempt to beat the rain. That cool shower smelled like new roots and soggy worms, replacing an itchy day that wasn't ready and went nowhere. It made me lighter to let things go while wet drops hit my cheeks.

Feb 13, 2018

It's the Cops

Saturday morning I awoke to the persistent sort of knock on my front door that only police deliver. I pulled on whatever was at the top of the pile and ran down the stairs in a haze to in find one police woman shivering and pounding on my front door.  The city snow plow hit my car.  Broke the break light and then put a hefty gouge all the way up the length of the poor old Grand Marquis Mark. It still drives, but the window doesn't roll up or down at all now and it looks like hell. I'm hoping the city will send me a nice check in the amount of enough for a newer cruddy old car but this one with heated seats and blue tooth and front wheel drive.  Maybe even something that will fit in small spaces and not use much gasoline.

Jan 29, 2018

The Day After We Attended a Royal Rumble Pay Per View Party.

"Mom, if I was a wrestler I'd be Smacker McSmacker, and I'd just keep smacking people in the face" ...commence Jack pantomiming super fast face smacking.

Is it Summer Yet?

I'm longing for warm summer night.  There was this time when I was a kid and we lived on the south side that my Dad and his pals would play Frisbee in the street in front of our house.  They'd be out there with a beer in one hand and skipping that disk off the street looking smooth.  Mostly us kids would be catching lightning bugs or playing tag in the yard.  Sometimes I think I remember sitting on the curb and being super happy when someone caught the Frisbee under their knee.  I think there may have been a radio somewhere - in my head there's a soundtrack to this scene with maybe Slow Ride and Rocket Man and probably some Stones.  These guys with their messy long hair and cut offs, sometimes with a short cigarette carefully shifting from hand to mouth just long enough to take a drag and return the throw. 

Jan 15, 2018

Art Institute of Chicago

I took the kids into see art today.  We started in the modern wing - mostly because that's where the valet parking was but also because we've been interested in modern.  I've been participating in abstract night at the studio and the kids have done some at school and in an outside art class.  We all seem to be a little enchanted by it.  Piet Mondrain is near the top my list of very favorites but later in another wing I was reminded how much I loved Edward Hopper and then I saw all the Renaissance stuff and forgot all about abstract.  I could spend years there and just stand around loving everything the best, for a slice of time. 

Everyone at the art museum is pretty.  Everyone is dressed like they're going to something important, some folks are speaking other languages.  Nobody is yelling at their children, they are all leaned over teaching their kids about art and history and asking each other's opinions. A whole day of looking at art museum goers made me feel wretched in my snow boots and my smelly, stained up shirt.  My youngest got car sick on the way into the museum and I of course put my hands out and caught all the barfs instead of  letting is spew all over our driver's back seat.  There was no way to turn around and drive home so we pushed on, ducking into the bathroom right away and washing up and then standing under the hair dryer for a minute.  Then I went on to spend the day looking outward and thinking about technique and colors as well as being on high alert for more sickness that never came.  It wasn't until I was getting a little overwrought with all the looking at art that I turned my attention to the people and then lastly myself. sigh.  Then I just wanted to be somewhere else and that was perfect because we left.

On the way home we saw smoke on the highway for miles and drover past a semi-truck on fire, like 20-foot flames and black smoke.  No body barfed, some of the kids slept. It was a crazy grey and sleepy ride home. 

Jan 8, 2018

Half Way

Halfway Down
By A. A. Milne

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
I always

Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up
And it isn't down.
It isn't in the nursery,
It isn't in town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head.
It isn't really
It's somewhere else


About half way through every project, I hate what I'm doing.  It's not turning out how I had it in my head and I've looked at it too long, it's feeling overworked and I want to literally kick it across the room.  Once I let go of what I thought it was going to be, finish and fix what I have, it usually turns out pretty good.


Hello 2018!  Let's do better than last year.