I am the one who marvels easily, yes, even to the ecstacy-point. I am not the unfortunate one. And so I quietly rejoice this early morning.

January 16, 2003

"Early Morning Disquiet"

A night-terror creeps into me like chilly mist, what will happen?

There are rumors of bad economic times coming. I don't know what will happen, but I must be prepared. It is time now for patience and watching. I pray the world over its suffering to ease. So much of it, here, there and everywhere. What can ONE do? I pray, that's what I do. ''Does it do any good?'' the skeptic asks. I don't know, I do it anyway. I think it does.

Maybe Somebody hears it. Maybe someone with a human skin feels a lightening of the heavy fields around them. I hope so. 'All superstition', maybe, but I do it anyway.

So, it's one thirty at night, and I can't sleep. I pray for ME to have wisdom. I've prayed it for other people, but I need it for me, too.

'One step at a time', the wise ones advise. They have lived through much, seen much, all the terrors of this day are not new terrors. We keep on breathing, we'll get through what ever lies ahead 'one step at a time'. That's what they advise.

'One day at a time', one terror at a time. Answer this fear, then the next step will follow. I can do that. I will do that. All preparation is leading us into the answer. I am the waiting and willing student.

January 17, 2003 - A

"Some Better"

I am in such a better frame of mind this morning. No, things aren't perfect. My passion for a certain not-necessary-to-name author has gone unrequited. We haven't got a million bucks. But, my MOOD is considerably better.

And it is Friday. Hopefully Julia's back will be better today. She hurt it bending over to pick up some trash. We'd cleaned out our kitchen sink because they were supposed to put in a new stainless steel sink yesterday, BUT THE WORKERS NEVER SHOWED UP! We still have our crappy, stained sink.

Oh, the apartment manager apologized profusely, but still, that does not change our sink. And there is no word on when it will be replaced.

But, as I've said, that's not been my only disappointment lately. My passion for a certain not-necessary-to-name author has gone unrequited. Yes, I'm sure you've heard that now!

In an attempt to assuage my pain, I got out my old, dusty Page O' Praise and refurbished it with a few more kind things people have said about me, adding links to those with known websites. I had to remind myself again that ''They like me, they really, really like me!''

I feel some better, now.

January 17, 2003 - B

"A Lot Better"

Sebastian, A Vamp Who Never Goes Hungry

Oh, I'm feeling so much better this evening! I have a delicious new chapter of my vamp story, and have 'met' a marvelously fascinating new vampire!

Bite me, Sebastian!

January 20, 2003 - A

"Melancholy Monday Morning"

Why am I so moody today? I don't have to work today, thanks to Martin Luther King and his dream. The ancient Romans had the right idea with over a hundred holidays. Any excuse not to work . . .

So why am I moody? Saturday was a marvelous day out. We took the Yuma Valley Live Steamers Weekend Historic Train Ride, which was delightful. I took quite a few pictures and afterwards both Julia and I had the 'mexican steak' at El Charro. It was delicious. We think we've found OUR Mexican restaurant here in Yuma!

Sunday was a lazy day, filled with much slumber, due to my sinus headache. We did watch Minority Report, which was full of fascinating special effects as well as an absorbing plot. Tom Cruise did ably. A couple of times, I blinked and imagined him with long blonde hair, ala 'Lestat'. He's a fine actor.

Then I finished watching Men In Black II, which I'd fallen asleep on the night before. Julia didn't mind seeing half the movie again, she laughed more the second time. With her great memory, she knew more of the other movie references. 'Jeff' looked just like a sand worm from 'Dune'. I saw the balls which showed in Minority Report, the movie I'd just seen. Julia added, ''Don't forget the 'flush'.'' Oh yeah, I'd forgotten. The earlier one hadn't looked so much like a toilet flush, however.

Now today, grayed by the sinus headache, I've spent time webwandering. There's a fascinating site called The Mirror Project, in which participants send in photos taken with reflections of themselves in various places. This could not fail to inspire:

The mug is one Laura had absconded for her art pens. My reflection in it of necessity had to have the camera eye next to my eye. I like the shadowy image of Laura looking on in the back. Julia, too, is looking on, in an old picture of hers.

This was nice - Sunday morning, I dreamt of Laura. She was in a great mood, happy to be visiting, full of laughter and cuddles. I was all excited, telling her how we could go on that train ride and watch videos. It was marvelous to 'see' her again.

When I told Julia I'd dreamt of Laura, she, although she couldn't remember her dreams exactly, did remember a happy glow, and thought Laura might have appeared in hers as well.

So WHY am I so glum today? Perhaps as the day progresses, my mood will lighten.

January 20, 2003 - B

"With The Clouds"

View out our door this morning

Gray clouds fight for sky's rule. How they spread, drifting aimlessly, (seemingly). What pulls them? I am pulled and I drift not aimlessly. They pull and in that direction I lean, all year's gray absorbed in a minute. Such concentration! 'This will pass', I am told. Clouds and moods, transitory all. Now, I am pulled by the clouds. JAL, 1 - 20 - 2003

January 20, 2003 - C

"No Reason To Complain Of The Clouds"

I really have no reason to complain of the clouds. Julia was writing a letter to her Mom, and wanted to know Yuma's rainfall last year. I couldn't find that data, but I remember Laura's Mom saying it was only a tablespoon worth.

However I did learn some interesting facts. One informative site gave Yuma's annual average rainfall as 3.17in. We have the unique distinction of being the sunniest place in the United States. Tucson, where I lived for ten years, has a relatively whopping 12.00in annual average. It does rain quite often there, especially in August.

But I've been in the desert for so long I've lost contact with the rest of the rainy world. I remember cursing the gray skies in Joliet, which could remain gray for weeks at a time. They have, being nearest to Chicago, 35.82in average.

But there are far worse places. New Orleans, Louisana, which I've read of in the Ricean novels, is humid, as well it should be with 61.88in per year average. But there's a place which has all of the continental United States beat out. Hilo, Hawaii has 129.19in of rain per year on an average!

I'm not really sure why Hawaii is spoken of in such glowing terms. One could SWIM in such humid air. Still all of this information leaves me wondering why I complain of what rare clouds we have.

January 20, 2003 - D

"Eventually Enthusiastic Evening"

The persistant, insistant sun soon dominated our skies again. Julia and I, after waiting for the apartment handyman to finish installing the stainless steel sink, went out.

The minute I left the now oddly smelly house, owing to the sealant the man used on the sink, I felt better. Just the mere contemplation of pizza at Ronnie's Pizza elated me. We get it with EVERYTHING, including anchovies, which Julia especially likes. I do not mind the tang of the little salty things. Three pieces later, I was sated.

I chastised Julia for imagining that splitting a SMALL would have done us. We left not one crumb of the medium pizza. Then we rushed on to the PLAZA theater, where the movie FRIDA was now showing. What serendipitous timing, for it was 1 o'clock, and a showing was at 1:15pm.

All I can say of this movie is WOW! Actually I've said much more, in a review placed at my movie review page. But WOW fairly well summarizes it. I will buy the DVD when it comes out, so I can pause it at any point, and sketch the scenes. Yes, each framing is THAT good. Marvelous, luscious! Oh, I exclaim the beauty with which we fragile humans have filled the earth.

Frida Kahlo
1907-1954

Self Portrait at thirty-three

And fragile we are, although many of us defy that with as much exuberance as we can muster. Julie Taymor, who was the producer of the marvelous 'Frida' movie, also has the distinction of putting ''The Lion King'' on stage.

Another artist, known in one film documentary as THE LINE KING, a KING in his own artistic kingdom, as well as a take on the original animated 'Lion King' of Disney fame, also a LINEAR effort, has passed on today. There's no need to worry that Al Hirschfeld got cheated of years, though, gratefully. Born four years before Frida Kahlo, he lived nearly a half-century longer, to ninety-nine and was active artistically up until the end.

Al Hirschfeld
June 21, 1903 - January 20 2003

Self Portrait at ninety eight

He did more to suggest character with those graceful flowing lines of his than any artist I can think of.

So one artist, of rich colorful imagery, often symbolic, and one artist, of only black and white, and only lines, have inspired me tonight.

Praise, again, to the muses which inspire these visionaries!

(May I soon know inspiration myself!)

January 21, 2003 - A

"No 'Humbug'"

It is morning before work. My stomach is gradually getting full of fresh cooked salmon. Julia has great skill in cooking the tasty critter, who didn't die in vain, as long as one never asked the fish, hah!

Before me is a day of thought, while my finger are busy. I shall wonder if the art I've seen will inspire me. I know I want to do something with movie stills, but it will be some time before FRIDA comes out in DVD. Maybe something sooner will happen. I do so love this, the active mind.

In the end we shall have had enough of cynicism, skepticism and humbug, and we shall want to live more musically.

Vincent Van Gogh

That is the words of one artist that awaited me at the 'thought of the day' site. Cynics and skeptics will say, ''Yeah, but wasn't he the nutso that wacked his EAR off?'' Yeah, he was the one. If people learn nothing else about art, they learn Van Gogh sliced his ear off, thereby proving their opinion, ''ARTISTS, HURUMPH! Crazy, every last one of 'em!''

Oh, well, this does not bother me. The vast majority of artists survive, ears intact and sanity intact, too, for that matter. The life of the easy amusement has its merits.