Art, Humor, Lemon Moment, Personal

M e

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Whether you use the word weird, creative, or eccentric, it’s obvious to most people that I hit the target. It’s hard enough getting people surprises or gifts on traditional days. In my case, everyone knows that I much prefer random days for surprises. They also know that if the gift itself isn’t personal, the box, card, or the way I present it is definitely going to be. I don’t like the idea of a world without chalk, index cards, or random shenanigans. That includes sending clown noses, a custom picture of Doc Holliday, receiving a flutophone, or one of my favorite things in the world: prisms. 

People forget that at one point I was decorating the envelopes I used to make my car payments. I didn’t know until much later that the car lot manager kept all of them on a wall. Assuming he’s still alive, I’m convinced he definitely remembers his unusual customer. I took the mundane necessity of making a car payment and made it a crazy memory, as well as an accidental art installation in a small car lot office.

The reason I explain all this is that sometimes I spend a great deal of effort and time making something unique. Overwhelmingly, people are delighted and truly surprised that I thought enough of them to make the attempt. 

What consterns me are those times when my gifts or creations are misunderstood. It’s a lot like starting a conversation that’s difficult. You can’t control the other person’s reaction or the outcome. 

Me not making or sending surprises to people isn’t in my nature. It’s like criticism when you sing or write something. You have to accept the criticism just like you do the praise or encouragement. 

In a world inhabited by so many different people, it stands to reason that decorum, style, taste, and humor aren’t universal. 

Some people reading this have been on the receiving end of things out of the blue. Some have received things from me anonymously. Others have been walking around Fayetteville and discovered literal eggs filled with surprises, pieces of art, or just about anything creativity might cook up. 

My intention is to be me and create small moments. The fact that most people aren’t like me is truly independent of what I do or why. 

I have a stack of red capes in my hall closet waiting for the right day when several of us are going to need some comedy and ridiculous adventure during an otherwise normal day. That should tell you all you need to know about me. 

Love, X

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Animals, Fayetteville, Lemon Moment, Personal

Wednesday Universe

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I think most people visit Mount Sequoyah at the wrong time of the day. At 6:00 a.m. you won’t be crowded. This morning was cool and the sun was filtered through heavy clouds. Deer wander around everywhere and are largely unconcerned by your proximity. (Unlike your boss, who is undoubtedly plotting another round of micromanagement for your own good.) Due to federal law, my age requires me to be fascinated by birds I haven’t seen. This morning up on the mountain it was Indigo Buntings, which are bluer then a 6-year-old holding his breath during a tantrum. I have a sentimental connection to the spot but more than anything, it is a singular reminder that we often don’t need to travel to distant places to see the places we inhabit differently. 

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Behavior, Opinion, Personal, Psychology

Perspective

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Unpack all your baggage and throw it in the attic or the basement. It will still be there to greet you later but at least you will stop transporting it around as if it defines you. Take a moment and look out your window. It’s a portal to several billion people and unimaginable fascinations. So why do we choose to spiral into an ever-narrowing cocoon? We complain about traffic and yet we can only visit new places by becoming traffic. As for work, it’s almost universal that we love some aspects of it while simultaneously despising the grind and the dehumanizing part of it. The people around us become familiar and we think we’ve learned what we can from them. Maybe it’s time to put on the clown shoes or the bowtie and risk looking ridiculous. One of the secrets of life is that while people are giving us the sideeye they are also largely ignoring us, consumed by the constant barrage of obligations and appearances that keep them caged.
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Fayetteville, Lemon Moment, Personal

Summer Nights

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Am I the only one who sometimes realizes how absurd life is? When I awoke this morning, I had been dreaming something nostalgic but I couldn’t catch even a whisper of what the dream was. For a minute, I thought it was Friday and that work was ahead of me. I was driving around after 3:00 a.m., having gone to the inconvenience store for a soda. The clerk, who was stocking and cleaning over by the soda dispenser, told me “That one is out of flavoring.” I laughed and continued to dispense the soda because I drink carbonated water without a second thought. When I left, I turned the wrong way without thinking and just kept driving. Soon enough, I went through the stretch of construction and up the side hills of Fayetteville. One section had been redone and the street lights were both beautiful and bright, casting shimmers in the darkness. The deer crossing signs became more numerous and on the way back down I discovered why. I had to come to a complete stop because five deer were standing in the middle of the road looking at me. I waited and watched them. After a bit, they dispersed to the left side of the road and I drove on. Because I listen to a wide range of music, I switched the radio to 106.5, which I like to call Old Person’s Variety Radio. I sang along to the ridiculous song playing. It was “Summer Nights” from the Grease soundtrack. I took a moment to think about the fact that I was in fact in a summer night, albeit at 3ish in the morning. At the next intersection, I watched a vehicle come toward me as the song played. The driver was either intoxicated or driving with a bag on his or her head. They erratically passed and I continued on my way. I adore these early mornings because most of the people I encounter are closing out the day before while I’m starting mine. I stopped on top of one of the hills and exited my car. I took a moment to look across the city and see Old Main shining in the distance. The early morning robins were singing loudly. Although nothing happened, it felt like something was about to. It was just a beautiful untimed moment. With a few exceptions, it’s all mine in these early mornings. There’s a fine line between enlightenment and lunacy. Summer nights. 

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Behavior, Opinion, Personal, Psychology

Fire Or Ice

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If you are a nighttide peripheral observer like me, you’re going to see things that make you do a double take. This morning I drove by the infamous Bottoms Up at an hour when even the local vampires are getting droopy-eyed. A woman stood between her open car door and the car and a man leaned against her. His work truck was parked on the other side of her car.  I’m certain he was examining her tonsils. My initial reaction was “geez.” But my ensuing reaction was “good for them.” When we are young, it’s our opportunity to abandon good sense and let our biological fires not only lead us down the path of temptation, but also take a dubious detour. It is a certainty that we should be rational creatures. Careful attention to our behaviors and patterns clearly demonstrates that we are not. Routine grips us and we build layers of distraction on top of our clandestine wish to feel alive. Maybe I’m an outlier. Perhaps the rest of you don’t struggle with the duality of knowing we’re here to experience the world, but also wonder why we choose or are pushed into obligations and routines that quite simply deaden us at times. Whoever those tongue-locked people were will wake up at some point during the day and regret burning the midnight oil. Maybe you will think I’m crazy for saying I had a similar regret when I pulled in to work. I probably should be driving to Central Arkansas this morning. But I’m not. It is all an accumulation of choices. Some serve us, and some do not. It’s only in retrospect after we’ve made the choices that we tell ourselves we understand why we made them.

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Animals, Exercise, Fayetteville, Lemon Moment, Personal

Nighttide Walk

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I’ve been out wandering the colorful nighttide. (Still one of my favorite words.) The colors and sky have been worth seeing. I enjoyed seeing the little house cat in the industrial building, its paws raised up behind the dirty glass of the front window. The fox that darted across the street in front of me, headed to the creek. A couple of rabbits, one dog wandering and wanting to be petted, goats in their enclosure, a few bats, and a variety of birds that I collected on my Merlin app. The wind has been blowing the entire time, rustling the trees and foliage. I saw a couple of people who were ill-advisedly still up from last night. One of them was sitting by the creek on the large rocks along its banks, enjoying a beer. I don’t normally walk in the creek barefoot so early in the morning, but I couldn’t resist. There are a few places near my apartment where the sky opens up and are relatively uncluttered. I sometimes forget how much a juxtaposition the area is. The world is unfortunately waking up now. But I owned it for long enough this morning. 

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PS I got to pet a squirrel after work yesterday.

Behavior, Mental Health, Music, Nostalgia, Opinion, Personal

A Symptom Of Being Human

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For all of you out there who sometimes need a song blasting on the way to work… Find “A Symptom Of Being Human” by Shinedown. I’ve listened to this song multiple times with a critical ear, trying to pinpoint what exactly this song embodies that provokes an emotional reaction in me. The closest I can come Is that it invokes a nostalgic feeling without being tied to a specific time period. It’s a song about mental health and having empathy for every human soul who crosses your path. Even toxic bastards, managers, baseball fans, and registered voters.  It’s Thursday which means you’ve made the mistake of delineating your days as if one has more importance than any other. 

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Fayetteville, Humor, Lemon Moment, Personal

Chad

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Am I the only person who has infrequent yet regular interactions with someone simply to pretend to be annoyed? A few weeks ago, a man in a blue sedan was going at least twice the speed limit down the hill toward the Scull Creek bridge.  I had more than enough time to cross the street, so I did. The man in the car stopped very quickly considering the speed he was going. He backed up a little and put his window down. I will call him Chad. I calculate there is a 1 in 74 chance that is his actual name. 

“Hey, you need to be more careful,” he hollered at me. 

“I’m not sure that caution will help me with low flying blue aircraft like the one you are piloting.”

He couldn’t help himself. The irritation disappeared from his face. “Fair enough. You should use the crosswalk.”

“And you should watch for low power lines,” I fired back at him. Both of us were smiling at this point. He waved, put his window up, and sped away. 

A couple of weeks ago, he saw me standing by the bridge. He slowed down and put down his passenger window. 

“Still running your insurance scam?”

I laughed. “Yes, because your mom says I don’t make enough at my job to support us both.”

He laughed, waved, and drove away. 

Today, I saw him coming from the other direction for once. He put down his window as he slowed. There was a car behind him. 

“Mom asked me to tell you to bring home a loaf of bread on the way,” he said, obviously remembering my last joke. 

Because of the car behind him, I didn’t want to hold him up so I gave him two thumbs up and laughed. He laughed too, as he drove away. 

When we are firing back and forth at each other with commentary, it feels exactly like a hidden camera sitcom. 

The interactions make me feel literal joy. Maybe because it all started with a flash of irritation. But now I’m on the hook for clever comebacks. I guess I’ll ask his mom while she is cooking us dinner tonight. 

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Personal

Morning

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I got up before the storm started early this morning. The erratic lightning caused some of my solar light bottles to flicker like fireflies accidentally using Morse code. But it was my newest acrylic solar light vase that caught my eye. The couple of hundred fairy lights permanently embedded in the hardened acrylic shone like maniscule stars. Trying to capture the colors in a photo appeared fruitless. That’s okay. It’s like trying to describe a moment of beauty to someone who didn’t witness it. X
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Art, Lemon Moment, Personal

Surprise

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One of two surprises given to me for taking care of a sweet dog and cat a couple of weeks ago. The other one I will hold in reserve for a bit of shenanigans. In two weeks when it stops raining, perhaps this one will reveal its polychromatic sunlit spectacle. 

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