Saturday, September 09, 2006

September 9, 2006
Woke up to overcast skies. Quite cool out. Bike ride was quite nice. Came back and made pancakes for Lou (my mom’s not up yet). Started to really blow outside at about 8:50. Dark out, looks like dusk rather than early morning. Peaches is under my desk, right by my feet. Kathy suggested turning on the radio so she doesn’t hear the thunder, so here we are listening to some interview on NPR. Rig rain hit at nine, three leaks in studio, got an extra trash can out of the house and placed it under the leaks. The rain hit so hard, it blew rain under the north door of the studio. The wind knocked down a tall, exotic link cactus outside Tomcat’s window. May be more damage, still to wet out to go inspect things.

Went over to the house to feed my mama some pancakes and as I got them ready, I looked up and saw Buddy Boze Hatkiller standing at patio door with his nose steaming up the door with that look that clearly says, “C’mon Dad, it’s scary out here!”. Microwaved pancakes and bacon, parked it in front of my mom’s nose and came back out to check on dogs. Came in studio and there’s Peaches in front of the radio, looking exactly like “His Master’s Voice.” I guess she really does enjoy listening to the radio during a storm. I wonder if Arbitron could use these stats? Hmmmmm. Dog ratings.

I spent last night visiting and spending time with my mother and Lou (Kathy’s on a “trip”). The talking was fun, but they watch way too much Fox News (“Ralph ‘Bucky’ Phillips has been captured and we’re going to show you the same video clip of him riding in a police cruiser another fifty times, and sometimes in slow mo, and if that’s not numbing enough, at the same time, we’ll feed crawls that will make your skin crawl!”) and I had to get up and come out to the studio. It’s just too depressing and irritating to me. Too much death and weirdness and creepy people (and that’s just the anchors!). Speaking of checking out. . .

My mother is somewhere beyond “forgetful.” She can remember exactly her first horse and her saddle and riding with her father on their ranch at York (near Duncan, AZ), but she can’t remember that my father is dead (“Your dad must be getting older now, too?” “Not really, mom, he’s been dead for eight years.”). I was talking about this with Jane Bischoff yesterday and she said she is going through the same thing with her mother and you just have to separate the two people. One was bright, and funny and had a mind as sharp as a tack, and that person is gone. So true, still painful.

The Good, The Boze And The Ugly
I just had to write and tell you that I absolutely love your 2000th drawing!!! Man! Whether you meant to, or not, you have evoked the style and look of my beloved Spaghetti Westerns with this one! The village scene at the top reminds me of Los Albaricoques, Almeria, Spain (where Leone shot some of FISTFUL OF DOLLARS and a major portion of FOR A FEW DOLLARS MORE). The bottom part of the drawing is pure Spaghetti Western---crosses, a poncho flapping in the breeze. This is good stuff, hombre! Hasta luego!
—Chris, True West Maniac #946

Storm has moved through (9:40) but it’s still sprinkling and I can hear the creek roaring down the ridge. Both dogs are under the desk now. I have five paintings in progress, three of which I retrieved from my “Failure Pile.” I often start paintings, get discouraged and put them in one of the cubby holes in the morgue. I retrieved three of them yesterday and was amazed at how much potential they have (they seemed hopeless when I stored them). Added some strokes to a very loose John Wayne image and I am shocked at how strong it is. Need to stay with it. I wonder if Thomas Huxley has anything to say about that?

“Patience and tenacity of purpose are worth more than twice their weight of cleverness.”
—Thomas Huxley

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