I don’t talk about serious stuff here all that much. I mean, I do at times but I do it my way and you folks can get as serious as you want. Whatever floats your boat, I say, keep sailing. This is a kick your feet up and relax blog. Long as you’re cool with me, I’m gonna be cool right back with you.
In the vein of the trees in Eden, the world is a place of good and evil. Whereas folks may not show mercy toward one another, God will, which is why He’s God and not us. Maybe you’re not one to believe in a higher power at all. Maybe your belief is that we get recycled back onto the planet as a flower or a frog. Hey, long as your boat’s sailing and you believe in the direction it’s going, I’m not here to argue your point, or mine either, really.
I tell you what though, if I had to come back to life in any kinda way, I’m real okay with staying wherever I end up. I mean, folk get on my nerves and I don’t want a second chance at life for that to happen. If I absolutely had to return, I’d hope I was so good in my life that I would have some leverage to bargain with God. Know what I mean? I can see myself now, sighing, throwing my hands up and saying, “Ok Lord, make me a rock. I just don’t wanna feel a thing.” I’m serious. I don’t even wanna be a pretty rock. Just a plain ole, everyday rock.
The idea of returning to the human species is scary. I mean, there are some good folk in the world and all but they’re getting more weird and subversive by the minute. Not to mention plain ole evil. You can give folk all the chances you want in your mind but what you see is often what you get these days. And have mercy on you if you don’t see it coming or be foolish enough to ignore it. The government is corrupt. Cops are shooting to kill. Women are dating men folk and three months later, the boyfriend’s killed the child. Down here, a woman in local government gets a preacher man to help her embezzle thousands of tax payer money to go on vacations and get car repairs and whatnot. Society is heading toward moral bankruptcy. I don’t know. Maybe we’ve always been there and the internet makes it all more transparent. Sad thing is, we make so many excuses by co-signing to foolishness. Fred wasn’t on his meds today. Jimmy is a great father and would never purposely leave his child in a hot car to die. Blahsay this and Blahsay that.
Yeah, just make me a rock.
Last week, I saw the Jean Michel Basquiat movie. Andy Warhol was in it and in it, he died (from a botched surgical procedure). It never showed Basquiat’s tragic end but there was a blurb at the end that let viewers know how he transitioned. Though, you pretty much got to see how he’d end up by watching his extracurricular activities.
Always a heavy drinker, Jackson Pollock was in a car accident with his mistress and that’s how he transitioned. Mark Rothko led a life in deep depression and shortly after reuniting with his estranged wife, he slashed his wrists after drugging himself, or vice versa. Of course, you all know Vincent Van Gogh cut off his ear. Around 2007, there was an article, and I can’t remember where I came upon it, but it was said to be likely that Van Gogh had autism. I don’t believe that. I simply believe he was depressed from being a struggling artist.
Anyway, I did a few paintings along the style of Frank Stella, like the one above. As I placed each one on my kitchen table, the thought came to me that I should do my place mats in this style. None of the four pieces I did are the same and I rather like that since variety is one of my favorite flavors. I’ll show them to you when I’m all done. It’s a little sad that lay folk give little or no thought to artistic contributions.
I hope you folks have enriched your homes with original works that are meaningful to you. Probably the lives of these men folk and art mean more to me than you but I wanted to share anyway since it’s my blog and all.
In the meantime, I think I can use this computer to commence with Sincerely, Beatrice. We’ll see.
Being that I’m without my main source of accessing the internet, I thought I’d let you know that I’m feeling rather reflective, and I reckon, a tad resentful. While I’m at it, just throw some haterade in the mix too. Maybe the Amish are on to something by living in an analog world after all.
You see folks, we’ve become the robots that used to get built in science labs. I know you were fearful clones would come and snatch your job, man, date your daughter or whatever else you hold so dear to your heart but I, folks, think you should be fearful of your dependency on devices. Just think. You’re now a part of the largest segment of the world’s population who’s controlled by a piece of equipment that cost anywhere from 29.95 to 999.00. You’re also teaching your children to be dependent and undermining the value of social skills necessary to interact with a real human.
In the palm of your hands, you hold a device that accesses you entry to any place in the world. And if you’re that bored mid-lifer, you may be prone to forget your spouse and kids to meet that hot thing at your local coffee shop after a few picture exchanges . Or wherever. You’re grown, so you know where I’m going with this.
You experience anxiety, hot flashes and all manner of side effects if you’re not attached to a device. Your day is just different. Kinda surreal, to be accurate. When the tech department can’t fix that disposable device after it’s gone haywire from overuse, it sends you into a rage and you’re emotionally drained after you’ve frightened the unlucky agent who happened to clock in at your critical hour to do his job.
You’re the android you never thought possible. You’re the true machines (built by Steve Jobs) and overnight campers who don’t brush your teeth come morning time when the newest iPhone hits the market.
Man, I miss my Toshiba.
You see, I worked on this visual a few days ago and my frustration with it prompted me to clean my room. It’s so immaculate, you can eat off the dresser and you’d probably enjoy ’cause it’s rather pretty. Speaking of rooms, if you recall, and you probably don’t if you don’t think about me that way, which is fine, but I said I was decorating this year. If I tell you all I bought was a valance to hang in the kitchen window for all my grand notions of decorating, I’d be ashamed…Folks, I’m ashamed. I have multiple excuses to offer but I won’t give any. To be real honest, I don’t even feel like talking about it but I felt obligated on some level since going with this visual.
Being as such, I owe you an apology for talking about nothing strongly related to world affairs, the health crisis or how hard Sherry Shephard’s trying to sell her wig line on The View. If you’re like me, I do like some level of consistency and I’m rightly bothered that Friday brings day 4 of a wig change-up on her head this week. I don’t know about you but there are times when I do sweat the small stuff, even if it has absolutely nothing to do with me. I know I’m not alone in my grievances ’cause if I was, we wouldn’t have as many talk shows as we do.
Far as I’m concerned, there was no better talk show that aired than Phil Donahue. Maybe there’s something about me and Phils. I do like Dr. Oz too and used to watch him faithfully but he started giving me anxiety. You see, I get excited calmly, if that makes any sense, and I couldn’t take all his hyperactivity. I know he’s passionate and all but damn. I don’t wear anxiety well at all but I don’t wanna talk about that either ’cause it may excite me and I don’t feel much like being that either.
Have you noticed, and perhaps you have ’cause I’m no genius, that blogs are like Burger King? You can have it your way or not at all, if you’re vegetarian. Personally, I like that concept but some kinda way, I’ve not been lucky enough to have it ALL my way. I’m gonna ask you this since it’s on my mind but first, I want you to also ponder Genesis. You know, Adam and Eve.
They had everything going for them and we, of course, can see that in hindsight. Wasn’t like we were there to stop’em but you get what I’m saying. Anyhow, I was sitting in my car today and told Little Totsy, “I sho’ nuff wish I could sing.” Just as quickly as I thought that, I was jolted with the thought that I should be thankful I’m even still around and to appreciate what I can do. You see, Adam and Eve weren’t thankful either. I mean, I know that Eden was designed for them to do exactly as they did since they were made in the likeness of God and whatnot. But let’s erase that, okay?
In essence, my desire to sing, which will never happen in this life if you could hear me, is a form of complaining. I probably can’t sing ’cause I’d be arrogant or a whining diva or have some kinda addictive behavior. So, I came to the conclusion that I am who I am ’cause I am. It’s that simple.
Like Adam and Eve, I became ashamed on account of how I was thinking. But thankfully, ’cause I was outside and driving my vehicle, sitting at a red light, I already had clothes on. The question I wanna ask is have you ever wondered how Adam got his get-up from Eve after she stitched up the clothes. I figure, being southern and all, she did the sewing. Or am I the only one? And if my imagining is right, how did she wind up getting his fig leaves to him since they were ashamed?…Hmmm.
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