When basic TV was switched from analog to digital, an interesting thing happened. Much of the regular network programming was no longer available. The irony is….
most folks using the free TV are either too poor or too cheap to buy cable. Why then, has the no longer available programming been replaced by infomercials to get you to buy stuff. 9 months ago
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After 6 months of getting Foole’s Dream off the ground, I’ve finally been able to take a breather. The ol’ place has completely changed. Made the decision to move the rest of my stuff in with Mr.CT to make room. What was my living room is now a studio for an air brush artist extroidinaire. What was my dining room is another studio for a young woman that works in acrylic. What was my bedroom is now where I do my custom framing. Everything else is gallery, gallery, gallery. I started with just my own work, but I’ve grown to include 9, count them, 9 other artists and artisans that have faith in this little enterprise and it’s all kewl stuff.
The art’s district has grown by leaps and bounds, too. Every month we seem to have more shops and artists to add to the itinerary. We’ve even got a Saturday Market with arts, crafts, produce, food, music, etc. (I’m on the committee for organizing that, so I’m sorta proud). It’s amazing to see how this little strip has changed since I first moved here, yet there’s still room for the toothless ones and the folks at the mission down the street. Pretty proud of it all.It’s been an exhausting ride.
Finally, things have mellowed to a nice little hum, so I can get caught up on the goals and with all my buds, here, that I’ve missed. Just had to practice a little tunnel vision to get this all done. 14 months ago
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busy, busy, busy, can’t play till I get caught up, busy busy busy 21 months ago
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Ya know, I’d really like to see a woman president. PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! WHEN are we going to get a smart one to step up to the task?!!!! Even her “veiled” comments are so damned transparent. 22 months ago
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that truly turned my stomach. Topeka has a hospital/home for clients with developmental disablilities. In order to solve Kansas own budget crisis, it had been decided to close this facility and turn the patients over to private care, families and the streets. There was quite an uproar over this. Private care is not cheaper, better or in the patients’ best interest.
Well, they found the funding to keep this facility open for one more year. You’ll never guess where it came from…....Give up? They cut the allocation in half for providing our wonderful folks in Kansas’ government with…..BOTTLED WATER!!!!
This hasn’t hit the new yet. Kind of inside info….but on that note, WTF!! Maybe, it’s the same for Washington. How much of our government waste and tax dollars is going (literal eventuality) down the toilet for this scam. F’kers can drink tap water like the rest of us peons. But then, this could be the last cry of this era’s feudalism. Our water quality is down. Hey those of you in charge of infrastructure….FIX IT!!! Response….Let them drink Dasani. 23 months ago
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The 115 degree heat index killed my air conditioner in the studio!!! My driver’s side window won’t roll up or down!!! (no vehicular air conditioning Yeah I know, I’m a sissy) And my computer won’t manage memory enough to do the layouts for my damned limited edition prints!!! I have to DRIVE to Lawrence on Saturday to be guaranteed to get my paycheck. (mailing it provides too many excuses as to why I didn’t receive it, if ya know what I mean.) Mr.CT found out what it’s like when I throw a frustration temper tantrum. He learned to just leave me alone and let me throw it. (I’m much better now. Just needed release) Yesterday was not a good day.
Today is a different story. Yes, I’m still sweating, but I just bought a computer that was better than the old one or the laptop for $100. I’ll be back on board for prints on Etsy. Mr.CT has torn apart my driver’s side door to fix that. My temper tantrum didn’t scare him off. Be Bop A Lula Plum is the featured art of the day on ebsqart dot com and I’ve already received an inquiry. I still have to drive to Lawrence, but at least I know she’s making good on her promise to pay me. After this, she still owes me for 3 more weeks and then she starts paying on the bill for my sales.
Not to sound like I’m having a pity party here, but life has never been easy. I’ve been lucky that I’ve always had “enough”, but it’s always a major battle to wring out the mere pittance that fulfills “enough”. At least my electric bill will be lower without the air conditioner. Silver linings, folks, silver linings. 23 months ago
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Here’s the proof. I really do have a 6’ tall crustacean in the home studio. Meet Charlie.
He began his career in a seafood restaurant in New Orleans. A friend of Mr.CT was on a trip that involved quite a bit of alcohol. He was determined to possess our little friend. Out of sheer exhaustion, the owner finally submitted and named his price. $1400. The man wrote a check on the spot. He gave his address to the guy to have Charlie shipped to beautiful downtown Topeka. Time went by, he sobered up and promptly forgot about it, thinking that $1400 was a small price to pay for stupidity. About 6 mo later, Charlie arrives. He had a brief career holding the signs for daily specials and was soon retired to the basement. Needing to purge and make room for a new restaurant, Charlie had to go. He was a homeless crustacean. Mr.CT took sympathy and brought him home. He’s had a rough life. A few dings, scrapes, crack in his tail and a broken arm. He wandered aimlessly through the house, moving from room to room, seeking purpose in his life. This was about the time that Mr.CT and I first got together. When I met Charlie, it was love at first sight, an instant rapport. He now keeps company with me in the home studio. I will tend his wounds in exchange for the silent encouragement he gives. Even if it is a little unnerving to always have someone looking over my shoulder. 23 months ago
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to be open for business. Next is a couple of days of packing in order to be out by June 30th. I’ve got mixed emotions about this. I’m glad to be free, but….. I decided to end things on a positive note for the boss. Yeah, I’ve got my issues, but I’m sure they’ll be resolved. I bought a surprise bottle of champagne to toast new beginnings and goodbyes to a not all bad past. Her and I downed the whole bottle, reserving one last bit to christen the place for success to whatever business that takes our place. The woman broke down in tears. The gallery represented 25 years of her life. She was 27 when she opened. How do you say goodbye to that. I knew how that felt when I closed my own gallery. My dream, that fell flat after 9-11. I was dealing with a hurt child and all I could do was hold her and say, change is good and now is the time.
Am I Foole-ish for feeling compassion for her? Naw, I don’t think so. She trusted me to show her true self, the one I always knew was there. The one we all hold inside ourselves.
Yet, I’m still going to enjoy the hell out of my own beginnings. 1 year ago
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6’ tall giant crustacean in the home studio. Pictures to follow. 2 years ago
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I’m still using my supposed days off to complete frames, paint signs and deliver to customers,but it’s ok. Well, the 90 plus days aren’t, but no one seems to mind the rivers of sweat on my forehead. I think I’ve lost about 10 lbs. I’m even getting along with the “prayer group”.
I’m chomping on the bit to get started on the studio. When I am here, though, some of the old depressions creep up. There were many lonely times spent here. I think that once it’s cleaned up and all the remnants of other people’s work is gone, that should change. I think it’s just a haunting of frustrations, not being able to dedicate the space to the Foole. I believe I’ll be burning mass quantities of sage to cleanse the negativity.
Mr.CT and I are making lists of things that need to be done, before I formally open. Mainly, just rearranging, painting, removing some paneling and new light fixtures. Still have some ratty old carpeting to remove. All in all, pretty simple stuff with a minimum of expense. The last doubt was removed, when I learned that I will be able to sell to the public out of here. There were a bunch of stipulations from the city about handicap access, public bathroom, etc. if I was to open a “gallery”. Luckily, their definition of a gallery is if I decide to represent other artists besides myself. If it’s just me and by appointment or during the art walks, it is still defined as a studio, not a formal gallery. This makes me happy. Most of my marketing will still be online, I don’t have to be “open” all the time. I don’t have to worry about being a tourist attraction.
I figure I’ll be ready for the September Art Walk. woo hoo! 2 years ago
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I’ve been having to work with one of THEM. Ya know, the ones that when asked how are you…Blessed. When asked to make a decision…they have to pray about it. I won’t go into details about her, but her behavior has made me (oh shit) think.
She prays about the success of our close out sale. She prays that she can find a lost stone in a ring. She prays about everything. She’s not alone. I know many just like her. It’s not even something I take issue with. Religion is a comfort to many and they feel a need to have that direct connection. I do take umbrage at the constant broadcasting of that connection to others. I see it as a culturally racist attitude. It is assumed that because I’m American and white that I would view this as a shared belief and would see it as a “blessing” to hear about her personal miracles. She was shocked when she asked if I prayed. Yes, in my way. I’m a Buddhist. Don’t I believe in God? Not in the conventional sense. I believe that if there is a God, he would expect me to use the brain I was given and help myself. So now, I’m evil and must be destroyed. She now reports to the boss, behind my back, all the “bad” things I do with the customers. Hmm that’s funny. I’m so bad, all the sales tickets have my name on them. But I digress, this is not about her. I pretty much expect this from co workers.
I keep thinking of the animated scene in Monty Python’s Holy Grail. “Stop grovelling! I just want a simple conversation” or something along that line. I feel sorry for that “personal” God. Every day he has to deal with those millions of people that deny personal responsibility and place their lives and most trivial problems in his hands. “Oh crap! The cake I was baking fell flat. It must be God’s will. I tried it again and LO & Behold, I prayed and God showed me the baking powder I forgot. Through prayer, God gave me a miracle for a successful cake.” How about this….YOU didn’t read the recipe right. Then there’s the sharing of anecdotes about how they are so blessed to have this direct channel to HIS Awesomeness. They smile and pat themselves on each others back for their specialness. “Oh yes. God helped me find a clearance sale for those shoes I wanted.” There’s a guy in Afghanistan, praying he won’t get shot or exploded today. Do you think God should take attention from him for the sake of your f*$#ing cake? Well, God is everywhere. He is infinite….
The guy must be totally exhausted.
The above may seem like exaggerations, but they ARE actual snippets of conversation I overheard in the last week. I’ve got two more weeks of this. GOD HELP ME! 2 years ago
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not seen a tornado. Yesterday, though, was pretty damned close.
Nice little batch of supercells, crossed over Topeka. On my way home from Home Depot, the sirens started going off. I had been watching this dark cloud off to the west with signs of “unstable air”. Got home before the hail started and yes with the sirens wailing I did drive 50mph in a 30. Turned on the tv for weather updates, just in time to hear the weatherman saying the rotation center was just over the gallery where I work. I sat with fingers and toes crossed, praying…PLEASE touch down…Please touch down. No such luck. It did touch down in a small town just NE of us, called Reading, damaging about 20 residences and killing one person. Poor guy lived in a mobile home and the storm just flipped it.
Went to the studio to check on the kitties. I haven’t moved them to the house yet. Not that they were in any danger, but I do know they get nervous at the storms and sirens. I’ve got them trained, believe it or not, to go downstairs when the sirens blare. They were even under the stairs when I got there.Spent half an hour with two huge furballs in my lap, listening to their stories of survival.
Today, the storm line is to the east of us. Huge towers of white fluff, billowing upwards. Dangerous yes, but accounts for the beauty of this place. 2 years ago
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