Well, I finally finished my ultimate art project, one celebrating one of the best movies of all time: Sling Blade.
Now, if I find myself in a Sling Blade scenario, I have a tool handy for the Doyles of the world.
It’s a brilliant piece of art, if I do say so myself.
Yes, that is a real lawnmower blade in the kit.
Love,
Karl aka X
I repurposed a 16X20 canvas and made my own.
I’m not an artist – but I am a sentimentalist.
I love the word “overmorrow,” and I hate that it’s dormant in our language.
Love, X
hasten your moments
they are but few
the overmorrow is a promise
often dormant or unrealized
procrastinate at your peril
there is beauty within you,
around you and for you
go solicit it
with open heart and mind
pretend this is your only day
to express, to love, to hold,
or to cherish
it may well be
“One day – or day one. You decide.” I saw this meme this morning. I made my own version because it rang a gong in my head.
The law of incrementalism will prevail if you take baby steps.
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Not Safe For Work
Contains Profanity & Other Good Stuff
Seriously, Don’t Watch Or Listen If You Despise Cursing
If you’re not familiar with Marc Rebbilet, I’m sorry. He’s acquired some fame for his brand of on-the-fly music-making, fancy robes, boxer briefs, and irreverent take on music, initially recorded in his apartment.
I listened to this for the first ten minutes of my walk this morning. It’s funky, ridiculous, and makes me laugh.
If I’m found dead, some people will be unable to process the variety of music that resonates with me. From Los Angeles Azules to Il Divo… to whatever this is.
Whatever it is: Get Up!
I had a bewitching weekend, surrounded by peace and happiness. I took my surgery incision with me, of course, as well as a set of dumbbells and a voracious appetite. Other than experiencing a sliver of sublime living, my goal was to put on five lbs. from Monday until today, work my muscles as if everyday life might intercede at any moment, and amplify the gratefulness I feel. I succeeded on all fronts. From sirloin burgers, to vegetable-loaded mac, waffle chips and sour cream and onion dip, Dot pretzel sticks, sea salt caramel gelato, protein drinks, twenty cups of coffee, and brats with sausage buns, I ate like it was 2020. Maximizing my moments and practicing incrementalism, I also took advantage of the dumbbells, so much so that I might have to buy them dinner.
Life is peeking at me from a conspicuous distance. I’ll remember this weekend; its details are entrenched in my memory. Knowing that people I love were having their own moments, ones punctuated by helplessness, propelled me to focus on savoring the life around me. This carousel might slow at any moment; even the minutes that make me draw my breath in quickly with surprise or dismay will one day be ones to cherish. For here, now: I’m lucky and privileged.
I was cautious over the weekend. For the first time in a LONG time, I opted not to cross any natural bridges or fallen trees. Being prominently featured on The Darwin Awards was very much on my mind. My surgeon might frown on my arrival tomorrow if I were to show up with an abdominal piercing provided to me by limbs jutting out of my intestines. On another note, I’m supposed to get my staples out tomorrow. I’m still holding out hope I’ll get to bring a few home with me to make a souvenir of my guts attempting to strangle me.
I laughed today, discovering that one of my eleven new hobbies transposes to one of my old ones: electronics. From jewelry to stereo, this might be the circle of life. Realizing that I now own a great soldering iron fooled me into thinking that I could easily repair a small stereo I own. It turns out I was right, even though the ‘fix’ followed a circuitous route that defied logic, including, of course, one attempt to solder my finger. After repairing a couple of things, I realized that I could also take advantage of the moment and add a bucket of color even to my stereo. So I dragged out my ample paint collection and got to work. Whether the stereo WORKS or not will be determined in a few minutes, probably in proportion to how loudly the neighbor yells when I crank it up. I’m just kidding; I’m a quiet neighbor. I mainly use the stereo to play 10-hour loops of ambient noise I made myself with Audacity. My favorite is a combination of a box fan, rain, thunder, and a few specialized sounds that are more subliminal than perceptible audio.
Because I already had the paints and platforms laid out, I also painted a large stone I brought back home with me. I love painted rocks. It’s fortuitous that I like painted fingers because I also serendipitously painted my neck, forehead, and even my shirt. Looking closely, I noted that several of the paints cans proclaimed this warning emblazoned along the spine: “Use With Caution. Especially you, X.”
I lived a lifetime in the last few days.
Love, X.
P.S. I forgot to mention how special it is to be able to speak Spanish. It pays dividends in ways that still surprise me. .
There’s a word, an obscure one, that describes people taking pictures that have been taken countless times. It’s because we all share a appreciation for certain things.
I took one this morning, early.
Before the throngs, before the day truly woke up.
The lamp post evoked a touch of Narnia. Early morning Monday, a time that normally excludes magic.
I had a cup of bitter coffee in my hand as I watched the trickle of people either meander without purpose or shuffle with reluctant efficiency.
As for me, I stood there as the sunrise creeped up on my left, over the top of history.
I tucked the memory of the view into a small corner of my mind. I’ll visit it again later, as life creeps back into my normalcy.
For now, the breeze is my companion.
Love, X
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It was about 9:40. Though it was chilly, it was a beautiful sunny morning, just about a perfect one for early fall. I walked out of the store and into the midst of about 100 bikers. BB&B may have been canceled, but thousands of bikers made their way to NWA this weekend. I complimented one of the bikers on his choice of color. It’s the exact same color as my little car. Needless to say, someone who looks like him would be the last person I would expect to choose that color. A few feet away, a couple were talking to other bikers. Their friend Burt had not made it in yet. It turns out he is a licensed minister. I introduced myself, and told them they could go to the courthouse to get married. Then, I told them that I’m a licensed minister and would marry them right there on the spot if they wanted to. Or that we could go to the overlook, which is a beautiful spot, and do the wedding there. They were very tickled. I gave them my phone number on an index card and told them that they should feel free to call me today and I would gladly perform their marriage for them. I hope their friend Burt is okay. But I kind of also hope that he gets held up and that they call me. What a great memory that would be. Perfect weather, and a great day to make a memory, even if it starts with people who are initially strangers.
We’re all strangers, until we’re not.
It would be a sublime pleasure to be a part of people’s initial expression of love and togetherness. Optimism is infectious.
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I walked up and volunteered to be the picture taker for several groups. That way, their keepsake photos will include everyone. It’s such a treat to do that for people. One group of four insisted on taking my photo.
I heard a celebration down in the valley where I took the picture this morning. A beautiful wedding was in progress and I got to watch the end of it from about 30 feet up. The tears and applause when the groom kissed the bride even got to me a little bit. Hell, who am I kidding? I’ll admit that a tear rolled down my face. 2:00 p.m. on such a beautiful day seems appropriate enough to let a little emotion come out.
So even if the bikers from early this morning don’t call me, I got to live vicariously through another young couple just now. And then I watched them trudge up the long trail and hill. For two people, it was their first afternoon together, hopefully forever.
Love, X
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I had an extra tub of sidewalk chalk in my little car. Who doesn’t? I’ve had so many little adventures grabbing chalk and drawing for people who’ll never know who did it. Quick messages, words of encouragement, poetry, and odd notes to perplex those who happen upon them. The outside world is nothing if not surfaces, ones unfortunately left blank and colorless. If I find a bucket of chalk, crayons, or markers marked down, I grab a set.
Yesterday, I went to Dollar General to find cheap mixing bottles for my protein requirement. I bought another tub of chalk and a set of crayons and markers for a couple of bucks. A man was walking across in front of Lucky Luke’s bbq. He said, “Cool pin, man” as he looked at my shirt. I had money in my hand, as well as my Dollar General bags. I was on the way to the laundromat a couple of doors down to get what is commonly known as an “assload” of quarters. It’s one of the habits I’ve acquired living in an apartment without my own washer and dryer. “Do you need anything?” I asked him. I would have given him $10 if he had asked. “Nah, I’m good for today.” I stopped. “Hey, how about a tub of chalk? Draw something interesting, pass the time?” He didn’t hesitate. “Hell yes, I’d love a bucket of chalk. I haven’t touched chalk in years. My nephew and I will burn through this.” I handed him the bucket. I could see a little glimmer of the child he once was flickering on his face.
This morning, on a whim, I took the other bucket out and walked over to my downstairs neighbor. His door was open. His young son was already outside, riding around in circles, waiting impatiently on his dad. I handed the dad the chalk. He smiled. “Thanks!” he said. I almost told him it was for his son, but I’d rather see both of them out there covering the pavement and sidewalk with beautiful colors.
I saw them minutes later, riding toward the trail on Poplar.
No one is bored holding a stick of chalk – unless they wish to be. Blank canvases everywhere, waiting.
Love, X
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I have more than two full shelves of brooches and wearables now. That picture on the shelf is one of my Uncle Buck in the bathtub, taken about 50 years ago. It brings a bit of laughter to my face when I look at it. I’m not smiling because although I snapped five pictures, all the other ones look like I was just hit with a can of whipped cream.
Since my surgery, the nutritionist told me to eat at least 75 grams of protein a day. My boss Joe quipped, “You’re gonna have to get those numbers up.” I used to mock guys who lugged around a jug of protein powder. But it’s a lot less expensive than buying cases of good nutrition drinks. I’ve always loved the taste of raw protein and similar emulsifiers, so I think this will be good. Ignore me if my mustache is always powdery, okay?
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I got a list of dumbbell exercises that I’m supposed to do. No pushups for a while, though. 🙂 I have three dumbbells in the apartment: two five-lb ones and myself.
Before I started doing pushups on June 1st, my shoulder hurt from my job, especially my right shoulder. The pain went to basically zero within six weeks. If that nonsense returns, I’m going to start eating a lot ice cream. I researched it on the internet because that’s where we’re supposed to get our health advice. Millions of people can’t be wrong.
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Neighbor: “X, would you like to have kids?”
“Why, do you have extra you need to get rid of?”
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Customer service call:
“Would you like to hold or be held?”
(I’m pretty sure that’s what they said…)
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I’m always surprised by the number of washing machines at nudist colonies. But not by the number of contact rashes.
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“Sometimes making a meal with your best friend” could be read as tandem food preparation OR that you’re a cannibal.
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My friend Rodney told me that he was so excited that his wife had joined him in a love of shooting. Since I was over at his house a couple of weeks ago, I heard his wife Jane tell another friend, “Let’s target practice on Saturday.”
I told Rodney he might check her Target rewards card because she didn’t mean the other kind of target practice.
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“Silence is a superpower.” – X
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If you play rock/paper/scissors, studies have proven that if you ask the other person a question immediately before playing, they will most likely select “scissors” as their first choice.
P.S. Can one of y’all tell me how RPS isn’t an Olympic sport already?
P.P.S. Rock-Paper-Scissors should be played with real objects for maximum unsafety.
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Lately, I’ve kept my promise to say, “I don’t know” or “I don’t understand.” It undoubtedly exasperates people. While I can’t reliably speak on behalf of other people, it’s hard to believe that they don’t suffer from the same tendency to attempt to avoid admitting they “don’t get it.” Part of my own journey led me to realize it was something I needed to backtrack and work on. I’m getting the hint, though. A lot of people’s hair is suddenly standing on end when they deal with me. 🙂 “There’s no such thing as a dumb question” suddenly seems to be completely false.
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“There’s dark blue, dark red, dark green.. but there’s no real dark yellow.” Whoever said this hasn’t bee in the hospital, eaten really strong vitamins, nor consumed an entire box of cheerios in one sitting.”
Love, X
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I used a phoenix because it’s a symbol of perpetual rebirth. Any of us, sufficiently motivated and with the help of friends and loved ones, can turn a new page. It’s never too late. Addiction and habit makes the strongest among us weak and focused on our lesser selves. My sister can stand and testify.
I started this when my brother made it clear that he was going to stay out on the diving board. He was one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. Intelligence, though, often provides an even greater lever with which to push away people who love you.
I finished it recently when I found myself helpless to give useful advice to someone else who found herself in the bystander position.
It’s not the most well-written piece in the world; but you’ll find no greater honesty, reflecting the horror of being unable to help someone.
There are no bystanders.
And none of us truly lives a life just for ourselves.
Love, X
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 