Posts

JUROR 28

Juror 28 Today I went to jury duty. The 1st one I’ve ever attended. I been summoned a few times before but didn’t go for various reasons. But this time it’s happening. It started with the dreaded letter we all hate to see but there it was and then I lost it and forgot about it. So a few months later another type of letter shows up. The one where they threaten you and make you feel like you are one on trial and it lets you know you may be subject to fines and or confinement. Is scare tactics really what you want to use?  But it worked. I called and a very nice lady said I was fine and they let me schedule it on the day I wanted. And that day is here.  It’s a cool morning in April and I walk into a grey building in a grey room and plop my stuff on a scanner belt, like the ones you see at the airport. The lady is yelling out instructions behind dead eyes and to no one in particular. It’s very  creepy. As I walk through the body scanner, of course it beeps so loud...

Mary Silver Pen

Image
Here's the latest little post card exercise, I made for a friend.   It's cut tissue paper and pens.  I enjoy working on a piece of art and sending it through the mail.  I remember years ago when mail art was a thing and how many pieces I created and sent out n their own, into the world like a small bird being pushed out of the imaginest.  I wonder where they all are today.

I think I may have killed Buddha, or that damn hairy spider deserved it

Well the last few weeks, OK let’s just say the whole damn month has been a bit stressful and exhausting. Today is July something, I don't really remember when June happened, I wish I could say it was the alcohol or something but it’s just good old fashioned age and apathy. Oh, it started out well enough, then the heat came. Lord love the GA summers. The repairs on the house were finally complete, after that damn tree fell through the roof and ended up in the dinning room, but the amount of crap they left in our front yard was ridiculous. Not only were the neighbors asking us when we were going to remove the mountain of stuff, but the contractors blocked our driveway, so I couldn't get in the garage, yea, more places to get hot. I was told multiple times they would come out and clean it all up and they kept making excuses.   We finally decided not to pay them until they cleaned up the damn mess.    Finally one day I went out to move it off the damn driveway, myself, ...

Southern Funerals do not disappoint.

Part 1: Where we try to understand the southern family dynamic and my need to run like hell when I hear the phone ring. Years ago, after I had finally moved out of my parent’s house, I received many phone calls from my mother. She was always checking in on me, as mothers do. She was checking to see if I was eating right, getting enough sleep and washing my clothes correctly (she was a bit of a Nazi when it came to doing laundry, but that is another story). Unfortunately there came a time where the majority of the calls were bad news. An Aunt had a stroke, an Uncle has died, or a cousin has jumped off a bridge and killed herself, yes that one is true. I got to the point where I told her to stop calling me, if all she was going to give me is bad news. So she got my father to call me. My dad’s not a big talker, so usually the only time I talk to him, is when my mom shoves the phone in his face to say hi to me. This time he called me, which should have been a red flag but I’m slow up...

Ode to Keely poem/postcard

Image
This is one of my "Post card a day" series. I gave myself one hour each day to create a postcard and mail them out the next day. I like the idea of someone getting a fun one of a kind piece of art in the mail.   This poem is a goofy little thing I wrote about a dear friend and a funny little nick-name I gave the place she lives.  I turned it into a postcard and sent it to her.  A treat, for her, for sure. The Culdesac of Apathy "Living in a cold dry land, her heart warm with possibilities, the chooshy overstuffed cramped with furry contentment, making marks on a typed torn page, drawing a connection to the unknown future seen through an amber visor with a woody after taste, all to clear the careful step by step avoidance of icey patches on the the pavement outside a door of fearful steps to a warm bright day."

A poem from a Nightmare

I saw a spider last night large and black and shiny barely catching the red on her belly running across the street zig zagging around traffic leaping in the air  high above my head I've been in her company many times before she   walks over my belly closer to my face eight eyes  looking into my inefficient two her superiority apparent to us both it is something important she wants to say I scream I wake up I sit up I push her off of my chest      closer to my face I cry I lay there      in the dark, m y skin, like I'd just walked through a dew wet web awake She was still in the room with me eight eyes

Look its Stewart, too

Image
It's not like I'm afraid of birds. I don't necessarily like them but they can be pretty to look at, that is until they decide to track you down like a Serengeti panther hunting a caribou. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. It all started out innocently enough, the day was sunny and warm and little did I know we know the avian evil come. As we drove to have what I believed to be a delightful breakfast with friends, a gaggle (or should I say gang) of geese came walking across the road. They sauntered across (reminding me of a children's rendition of West side story) confident in their knowledge, they owned the road. It was innocent enough until they all stopped, like the rehearsed it, and turned to stare at us. Scary, you bet, like a Stephen King movie, scary. I yelled, turn around and floor it. The geese from hell are gonna get us. My friends and I laughing till we thought we would pee. We decided to name the head goose Stewart. The birds in ...