The Art of Doing Nothing

There were crossword puzzles to be worked
Books to be discussed.
Birthday cake to be made.
Facebook pages to be checked, maintained, added to.
There were fellows to be talked to, wives to be talked to.
Food to be discussed.
Coffee to be made and consumed, lots of coffee.
No golf.
Oranges to be picked and eaten.
No fresh juice due to no juicer and I wasn't about to juice 50 oranges by hand. No way, no how, no time.
Smart phones to be compared.
Nostalgia to be drifted into.
Mother, dad, Chuck, James and Steve.
Trips to the airport.
Trips back to the airport.
Trips back to the airport.
Jerry was the last to arrive.
Cathy and Brittany were the first to leave.
Who owned what part of the left over birthday cake.
Brittany drove in speedy Southern California -- twice.
Furniture to be moved.
Beds to be made.
Dogs to be walked.
Skittish Brownie to not scare, but she was scared anyway.
Tools to be located.
Screws to be tightened.
Refrigerator trying.
Ice maker not keeping up.
Julie, Jan and Toby wandering around in the dark.
Art found a flashlight for Jan the night time wanderer.
Jean baked the cake and made egg mac muffins.
Janice made the pasta bake.
Jan made the fisherman's breakfast.
Reeses peanut butter Easter eggs.
One piece of lemon pie.
Jerry was called a grumpy old man, not by me.
And generally coddled.
Jerry retrieved the morning papers.
Cathy was the tour guide and chronicler.
She made sure she and Brittany took in some sights.
Brittany was the sou chef and chief hostess, she picked up after all us old fogies, washed dishes, and kept Jerry in his place.
Julie was a bit of a ghost.
We even watched a movie one night -- a pretty good one.
I sat on the patio and smoked.
Cathy sat on the patio and swung.
Art continued to swing an axe at the tree stump.
News was discussed.
A touch of politics.
Jean and Janice explained things to me.
Danielle and Anita drove down from Corona.
Danielle educated me on being a "hipster."
On account of my "hipster" glasses. Who knew.
I can now "hash tag."
I already knew Psy and Thrift Shop.
Jerry downloaded the book club book, I Am Nujood: Age 10 and Divorced, but couldn't read it due to some block.
Jerry was reading.
I was reading.
Cathy was swinging.
Art was putzing.
Brittany was pacing, helping, and smartphoneing.
Jean was watching us all.
Janice was the birthday girl.
She took the whole crew out for her Birthday Dinner at The Stone Fire Grill.
My birthday card was late.
Jerry's is in the mail.
It was grand.

Love Is In The Air

Ain't love grand? Think of all the people you love and are loved by; parents, grandparents, cousins, children, sisters, brothers, aunts, spouses, friends and lovers. It warms the heart to love and be loved.

I've read on Facebook how people have disdain about how people chew their gum, dress their dogs, run, stop and smell the roses, worship, believe, carry or not carry a gun, support or battle abortion, and myriad other issues that plague us daily. Traffic anyone?

But love keeps churning. People love flowers, vintage cars, abandoned dogs, peppermint, yoga, knitting, reading. Movies anyone? Even Hitler loved his dog. We love things, people, ideas. Passion escapes and slews around like some mixed media performance art. And it's not just for humans.

My world is small, neutral. I admire passionate folk: people who boldly, regardless of consequences, release their passion to the universe. Passion moves the race forward, never mind if I agree or not, never mind if it's for better or worse, it's the energy that fuels the world. Low levels of passion equate with low levels of energy. Depth comes from passion. Is the depth of how much you hate equal to the depth of how much you love? It's worth pondering.

Now on to love:
Sandy, for love, is in Ireland scattering her father-in-law's ashes.
Jerry, for love, is traveling to California to participate in Janice's birthday.
Kathleen, for love, continues to work on her father's genealogy.
Kathleen, also for love, is glad her son is out of the Rangers and not in Mali.
Jean, for love, will drive her kiddo's to Hollywood.
Carol, for love, does a bit for everyone.
Ian received the gift of a town car ride to the airport Sunday morning from his company. He is traveling back to Orlando.
I received a Happy Lunar New Year from Bo.
Christian just loves Bo.
Jan just loves Connor.
Julia just loves hiking.
Jeff just loves.
Nora loves Harry Potter.
Andrew loves Werner Herzog.
Janice, for love, is hosting her 70th birthday party with me, Jean, Cathy, Brittany, Jerry, Jacquie, Dan, Benjamin, Julie, Danielle, Anita, Art and herself.

Love, love, love, what a mantra. Language can alter and change -- big deal, music can morph -- ebb and flow, but babies come the same way, as does love. Loves exudes exactly the same way.

And if you don't have love, please accept this cousin of love -- affection.

May your day be filled with more chocolate and less pumpernickel.

Travel and Dreams and Seattle Internet Cartoonist

There I go being wrong -- again!

Remember when I said traveling to California didn't count as enlarging my small world "New places musically, mentally, creatively, new eyes, new roads, I am traveling to sunny Southern in a few weeks, but somehow I don't think this counts."

Boy was I wrong.

Anticipating traveling to California, then back home again with Jean (possibly) is filling me with pleasure. My friend Sandy is going to Ireland, but California, plus Janice's birthday, plus family, plus all the other pluses: food, fellowship, Art fussing around, patio sitting, it all sounds spectacular.

Was there ever a family that read maps more, traveled more, or yearned to travel more? We have traveled around with maps, books, movies, poetry, family and friends for as long as I can remember. We go by land, sea, or air. Planes, trains and automobiles, not much walking.

Lately is seems as though we have slowed down a bit. Janice and Art aren't cruising, Jerry and Jane aren't touring, Jean isn't journeying, Jan is stuck in her small world.  I'm not sure I want to think about this much. Thank goodness Jeff and Nora are headed to England.

I'd say their world is expanding/ed.

I wanted new places musically and found the Sleepy Man Banjo Boys.
I wanted new places mentally and found Matthew Inman and his Oatmeal Comics website. This is a Seattle dude.
I wanted new places creatively and went back to Pina Bausch dance.
I am becoming familiar with Buto Dance.
I watched a Norwegian movie Cherry Blossoms which unbeknownest to me beforehand featured Buto dance. Lucky me.

Sometimes exploring new horizons feels like taking medicine. I know it's good for me but I don't particularly like it.

What I like is time with Mary and Claire having my all time favorite German apple pancake in Ballard. Seeing Mary's three gorgeous daughters. They are much prettier than my three sons. What I like is a mini drive adventure with Lynn. Time with Connor. Jambalaya with okra.

Christian said he read the book, Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter and it was much better than it had a right to be. Roger Ebert said the same thing about the movie. What I want is to expand my world with a vampire slayer. What I want is to go to California instead of Ireland.

What I want is time in California with my family and no more Pina Bausch.

Jeff says he is only bringing his suitcase, chairs, the goodie box, and hot dog skewers to the reunion next year.

Granny, Play With Me

So, I did. First it was Ninja Turtles until he became disgusted with my desire to give them proper names. Who ever heard of Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo or Raphael. Some Granny's are too much work and no help at all.

Then it was racing the roaring dinosaur, Connor won. Lego's that needed constructed with Connor's precise eye going step by step, exactly, until it was completed. I didn't exactly play with him on that one, he wouldn't let me touch it. Did you know there are children's Lego leagues? I didn't. We worked out Spiderman puzzles, made pirate hats with three different sizes of newspaper until we had an exact fit, a song or two, an orange to peel, Batman buttons from Ian's Disneyland trip that needed pinned on and taken off, and pinned on and taken off, and pinned on and taken off, and pinned on and taken off, sometimes on Connor sometimes on granny and sometimes on the dog. No, wait Connor you can't pin those on Brandy. Darling boy.

I'm telling you it is a work out, but he does do wonders for the winter blahs.

I sent my flight itinerary to Claire's sister Jean instead of my sister Jean. Well, I was distracted, what with blogging, reading, watching movies, cooking, addressing cards, running errands, driving here and there, watching the fog and watching the fog and watching the fog, and I might have been eating a bon bon or two.

Betwixt the drizzle and the fog we saw a bit of sunshine. A tiny bit but a bit. Today is mild enough for full open back window in my living room, my bedroom window, of course, never closes.

I'm looking forward to the California trip. Excited Jerry and Jane might join in the festivities. Excited Jerry feels well enough to consider it considering his recent surgery. Wondering if Julia is considering it. Just loving enough to drive the nieces to Hollywood or Rodeo Drive or where ever it is they want to explore. Yeah, I can do that.

And I'm feeling the need for a little more Woody Allen:

I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it by not dying.

I'm not afraid of dying... I just don't want to be there when it happens.

On the plus side, death is one of the few things that can be done just as easily as lying down.

This year I'm a star, but what will I be next year? A black hole?
Money is better than poverty, if only for financial reasons.

If my film makes one more person miserable, I'll feel I've done my job.

For some reason I'm more appreciated in France than I am back home. The subtitles must be incredibly good.

 

I was thrown out of NYU [New York University] for cheating on my Metaphysics final. I looked within the soul of the boy sitting next to me

Kubrick was a guy who obsessed over details and did 100 takes, and you know, I don't feel that way. If I'm shooting a film and it's 6 o'clock at night and I've got a take, and I think I might be able to get a better take if I stayed, but the Knicks tipoff is at 7:30, then that's it. The crews love working on my movies because they know they'll be home by 6.

A guy like Steven Spielberg will go live in the desert to make a movie, or Martin Scorsese will make a picture in India and set up camp and live there for four months. I mean, for me, if I'm not shooting in my neighborhood, it's annoying. I have no commitment to my work in that sense. No dedication.

I am a whiner. I do get a certain amount of solace from whining.

Okay, enough Woody Allen. Here is from John Bohonnan from a TED on creativity:

Think briefly about all the creatives you know? I imagine many of them were those who flirted on the edge of society during school and university? Not all, but most. Then consider the imagination and creativity required daily by those people to remain on the edges of main-stream society. Hours and hours of imagination and creativity.

 

A big hearty congratulations to Amber on her recent rise at Integris.

Love you, love what you do and the way you do it.

 

I made some terrific turkey soup and now I'm resting up until next week when Connor says, "Granny, play with me."