Privacy - Shh... It's Personal
Seconds after I step away from my laptop, I get a verbal download, like diarrhea really, of a million and one things that I think it is absolutely necessary to say for some unknown, ungodly reason. Like I'm sitting on the toilet thinking, "This whole hair fascination thing that I have is really weird, but I do, have it. But hey, at least I'm not like Picasso, saving all of my hair and nail clippings and shit because I am afraid someone will find them and do voodoo on me." I heard about that somewhere, sometime. And who knows, maybe I should have been more discerning with my hair and stuff. Maybe I have that to account for some of my bad luck. Wait. Bad luck? What bad luck?
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| My "live" artwork of the 80's - SOooo Creative - Ha! |
And then I get to thinking about my art. Damn! If I could get as many visual ideas and make as many "interesting" pieces as I have "interesting" pieces of word soup floating around in my brain, holy crap, I' be a billionaire! But alas, here I am. And it reminds me of the huge piece of art I once saw at the St. Louis Art Museum that is made entirely of human hair. It grossed me out, honestly. Although, it was fascinating. But you are not about to get me to clip up other people's hair, pubes and all, and clipped toenails and shit like that and touch them and assemble them, just so I can make "art". Ugh! Although I do have a pair of dried goat testicles that I am trying to figure out how to incorporate into some piece, sometime.
And the blank page can be and certainly is as daunting as the blank canvas. Like this whole art bio thing that I have been trying to get written, get right, for about forever now. Luckily, I tricked myself somehow yesterday and actually got a pretty good start on getting something down. Something much lighter, more fun, hopefully more authentic, more me. And hey, it's not perfect, like me...I mean I'm not perfect either, you know what I mean. But it's a start. It's a darn good start. And it will allow me to get my website up and running.
Tomorrow I'm going to be doing a "photoshoot" of my art and me for pics for the website. I want them also to be freer and fun and somehow creative, outside the box, unlike my current website situation. Lame. It's just lame. But you work with what you've got. It got me this far, that old website. It's served its purpose just fine.
But I have to admit, with the pictures and back to the hair stuff. I've got this gray hair, you know. Some of it's downright white. Some days I like my hair. Some days I do not. People compliment me a lot on my hair. They covet it even, some of them. I embrace it, for what it is. For what it can teach me, about myself and about my life. I grow it long because there is some dumb rule out there that says that you are not supposed to have long hair if you are over 50. And you are certainly not supposed to have it long AND gray. Fuck them. I'm breaking that rule. It's a stupid rule. It doesn't apply to me.
And I hope, I would like to say that my gray hair, it's all of that Wisdom that I have accumulated. I keep hearing my owl at night, so maybe there is a little bit of truth in there somewhere. Most days it's all ok, but sometimes, if I look too closely, if I'm having a tired day, if my hair's not curled, if it's a little too clean or a little too dirty, if I've brushed it the wrong way, if I've pulled it up without the little curly cues in front, it kind of makes me feel old. I don't feel a day over 29 in my soul, "except for all of that wisdom I possess", she says. But certain things don't lie. Like hair and joints and those beautiful expression lines that have been formed by real living. I'm trying to believe that those certain things just don't fucking matter on me. On other people I have NO problem with them. On me I shudder. But, "she says," I'm over it, owning it and there you have it. Well, I'm trying anyway, until it's picture time. Send me some of those good vibes please.
And why did I even title this little drivelous post Privacy - It's Personal? Well, as you can see, I've just dumped a whole truckload of personal shit all over the place, while out in the goat yard, speaking of shit, I am losing all of my privacy. Privacy be damned! Damn! I want my privacy!
I live on this heavily wooded lot with 4 acres and a pond and plenty of room to hide 30 goats in the woods. Our old neighbor lived on a heavily wooded lot adjacent to our property for over 30 years, but about a year and a half ago a new neighbor moved in. Nice enough, the fellow and his family, but something strange happened this spring. Granted, we have had some storms come through here occasionally and the high winds and wet ground had made the perfect conditions for several trees to come down, huge roots and all. In fact, that's what happened to our boy goat yard, a once separate enclosure, which is why I now have 30 goats instead of about 10 if things had gone my way...hey, maybe that's some of the voodoo bad luck I could have avoided. Anyway...
This spring, our neighbor started cleaning up his downed trees. He offered to help us clean up ours. Very nice of him. Then he just kept cutting. He cleared and cleaned up around his large field that I actually thought belonged to our other neighbor for as long as we've lived here, but I guess it's his, our new neighbor's and he made it into a soccer field and set up a new playset for kids, his kids I guess, and put a grill out there and all of that picnicy sort of stuff. Anyway, yeah, well he also rents out the space for parties and large gatherings and he's cleared some of that land for campsites. We've had tents and RV's show up, I say "we" because his driveway butts up to our property and our trees don't obscure it all. I'm just saying it's not my fault if your campers get offended because I like to sun myself au naturel in my food forest. I try to keep myself tucked away, but I can't block everything, so there. And so says the little Cessna that flies overhead from time to time. C'est la vie...again.
And today, this week, all week, he has been taking down and clearing out more trees. Loads and loads of trees, burned and gone. I'm not sure what his plans are, but he is already running an Air BNB in the mother-in-law apartment over his garage. And I feel like he is planning on doing more, building more or making more campsites or something. Something that says more people, less privacy.
And I think it makes me angry when I go out to feed the goats and I hear the tractor going, and going, and going. So, when I get stuck by a nail on the feeder that the goats busted up and my thumb starts bleeding all over the place, I explode at the goats. I get really, really angry about everything out there. It's insanity really. It will be changing, soon. It has to change soon. But I remember I have a choice, how I feel. I calm myself down. I say throw some dirt on it. I say "Toffee you fat gluttonous goat, you are 99% of the problem. You are going to be dead. You are going away. You have to stop being this way. You can't do this anymore. You are going to be dead. Do you understand? You are going to be dead. I can't do this anymore." And I say all of this, although calmly, out loud of course, because I am still working on my animal telepathy, although I am certain that my interdimensional telepathy is working just fine.
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| "Hair" You Go! |
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