January 29, 2000

"More Newness"

experimentation with the new Picture Publisher 8

A new car, wallet and alarm clock isn't all that is new in our lives. We now have a new graphics program, as well. Last night we downloaded two different trial graphics programs. Serena is happy with the new Graphix Workshop, so Laura downloaded that. But I was never much impressed with its predecessor, as it chopped pictures up unforgiveably. The new edition apparently doesn't do that. However I've been managing fairly well with my old 1993 Picture Publisher, which has been doing most of the stuff the new GWoffers for years. But I was curious about the advanced version of PP, and sought out info on its update, finding a trial version. I had such fun playing with all the new options. It has everything the old version has, in all the places I expect them, plus a lot more. I'll be able to learn it easily.

I created the above abstract with the test version early this morning. It, however, cleverly doesn't let one save pictures as gifs or jpegs, only in the ppf Picture Publisher format.

I was fairly salivating to buy the new complete version, anyhow. At first, I checked in the Walmart, as we were going there for other reasons. Not much selection there, so later we went to Fry's Electronics and they had it for the same price the cyber store was offering it. I feel like a kid with a new toy.

The picture program isn't all that's new. While in Walmart earlier, I saw posters announcing the new brass dollar coin. I traded in an old faded greenback for a shiny round dollar. From the pictures on the web, I thought it would be larger. It's the same size as the Canadian dollar coin. Something else is historic about this coin. It's the first time the public ever has had any imput in what kind of coin was chosen. Over a year ago, the three of us went to the US mint's web site and voted for the images we liked best. It's neat to think we had a tiny bit of influence in the coin design. I love the swooping eagle on the reverse side. And it's nice that an Indian woman is on the front. This one will not have the same fate as the Susan B. Anthony coin, I'm sure.

January 30, 2000

"I Like It Here"

I noticed I'd began a new Weighty Matters section one year ago from when I'd started this section. What had I to say one year ago? It was a time of looking back that day, as well. I'd quoted the following from an entry the year before that. Who says things don't go in cycles?

". . . The over-used land becomes infertile. We are like that too. We can become sucked dry. We need rest, air, sunlight, water, nutrients and love. We earthy, soily, fragile beings; from us can spring such growing wonders. The variety of our inner landscapes is good. "

The quote appeals to me today for a different reason than last year, however. We spent today in air, sunlight and on water. You might think, as I did years and years ago, that Arizona is mostly an arid place. It has its share of waterless rivers, which only surge after a monsoon rain. But we have real water here. And I have the pictures to prove it. Okay, you could go elsewhere for such proof. But these are fresh, today.

A variety of outer landscapes is good for the soul, too. In Arizona, there is almost any climate available. You crave snow? Up north, in Flagstaff, they've got it. Skiing is real good there, I've heard, not having experienced it myself. But if I wanted to try it, I could. I love this state, with all its varied beauties. If I could choose anywhere I wanted to live, Arizona would be it. In this landscape, my soul blooms.

Yup, I like it here.

February 1, 2000

"Maybe Tomorrow"

Another month gone by, and no word from VDP. Maybe he felt insulted by our house offer and feels it's below his dignity to respond. Oh well, whatever. I have few words today, but I did update the photo gallery, putting one of the Canyon Lake pictures there. I also added Laura's windblown hair portrait to our family picture album. The last picture of Laura was added one year ago. She had a new short curly permanent then,and was considering letting her hair go to its natural gray. It wasn't long before the bottles of hair dye were out, however. The gray made her feel too old. I like her either way, but it's important to feel youthful and not all drab and washed out.

I even visited my long neglected Celtic Music Page, and put a few words there of praise for Steeleye Span's Horkstow Grange and Gaelic Storm's Herding Cats. Only a few words, which need expanding. But it was good to shake the dust off the page, at any rate.

Maybe tomorrow will be more productive, word wise.

February 2, 2000

"Once I'm On The Stage"

This morning I got up early to exercise at the health club. Perhaps it would make me feel more energetic. As I was climbing the 'mountain', nearly half way up the heights, I looked at the silent TVs in front of me. A young blond woman in an orange tank top was bounding all over a stage, microphone in hand, singing to the glory of the moment. She wasn't full of PMS bloat and irritable, as I was this morning. Still, there's a magic to the stage. Minutes before the curtain opened, she might have felt frail and fearful, even swollen and cranky. But once I'm on the stage, something happens. Every choir concert I've ever sang in was like that. The very minute before the curtain opened, I'm standing (or sitting) in place. I'm terrified I will forget my words. I'm certain I won't remember my part. I'm positive I will open my mouth and no sounds will come out.

But then the curtain opens and an electric thrill pulses through me. The pianist plays the introduction to the first song, my mouth opens, and music comes out. What I'm trying to communicate through the song becomes more important than anything else. I can't see the audience for the brightness of the stage lights. But I imagine them out there. I imagine the words I'm singing giving them comfort and uplift. An energy surges through me. I feel wildly alive.

Writing an online journal is a little like that as well. When I don't have a subject, I'm fearful no words will come. But when something comes to me, it is like the curtains have opened and the lights are on. I glow inside, too. After I've sent up a particularily good piece, there is an afterglow, like the hours after a good concert, as well. Deep satisfaction, this, and it's what keeps me at it, year after year. I thrill on that rush, I'm possibly addicted to that rush. I can't imagine being without it. Yes, I probably am addicted. It keeps me at it, filling cyberspace, year after year. I count myself fortunate to have this stage, and to have you, my audience. As addictions go, this one is fairly healthy.

Thanks for being here, dear readers.

February 3, 2000

"Sweet Tooth"

Woozy with sugar rush, I am. I've arrived at the computer after sitting down with three bowls of dark chocolate speckled orange sherbet. Wow, it was good. I can almost feel virtuous. It wasn't three bowls of ice cream.

But I'm at that point in the month when I crave sweets and breads. While at the store earlier today, I also bought a tin of cinnamon muffins. Not much dairy there. But after three bowls of sherbet, I'm feeling pretty sated at the moment.

Julia had a new experience in her life today. At forty seven years of age, she's just had her first cavity. Yes, that ordeal most of us experience when we're seven. She was all scared going into the dentist's this morning. "Will it hurt?" she asked, wide eyed. Both Laura and I told her all she'd feel is one sharp prick of the anesthetic needle. "You might smell smoke as they're drilling, but it won't hurt." "SMOKE??" But no, she wouldn't be able to get a gold star and to sign the banner of all the children's signatures who didn't cry. At least that's what happened to me on my first cavity. I gather some kids really fuss. No, us adults, well, we have to be adult about it all. We were certain Julia would do fine. She's had considerably more invasive things done to her. An appendectomy at three was only one of them.

As the dentist's office is very close to where she works, she just walked to work afterwards. Later this evening, she came out of her office building smiling. She showed us her new filling, half way back on the left side of her mouth, tooth number thirteen. It wasn't too bad. She barely felt the prick of the needle. Yes, the burning smell did make her a little queasy, but she's happy to learn it wasn't such an awful ordeal.

After my three bowl session, I happily told Julia that my sweet tooth was satisfied. Julia jokingly wailed:

My sweet tooth got filled!

February 4, 2000

"First Blooms of 2000"

They've bloomed much sooner than last year. The flowers of 1998 were taken later in the season, of course. You can see a progression in picture quality. The 1998 aloe vera photo was taken with an automatic focus 35mm camera and the print was scanned on a by now, not so good scanner. It's a little fuzzy. For those of 1999, I had my Sony Mavica digital, but a 1993 version of Picture Publisher. This year, same camera, but newer Picture Publisher. I should dig out the 1998 print, as it is a favorite and in the photo gallery, and give it to Glen to scan on his nifty new scanner that captures every tiny detail. Ah, one more 'I should' to stack up on an already high stack. But I have got four of the mattress covers all done, and the remaining three only need zippers. I won't talk about the kitchen floor of hideous shame, though. Okay, I did. But there's no details of just HOW hideous.

Who knows, maybe some FLOWERS will begin sprouting in all that filth. If they do, I promise pictures.

February 5, 2000

"Belches With Wolves"

Kevin Costner Dances With Wolves, and I might could join him. After all, the Triad have claimed wolves as our 'totem' animal. As a declaration of solidarity, the three of us sometimes let loose with a loud wolf howl. But however wild and free we might be, I sure can't EAT like a wolf. I need to remember this.

Casa de Manuel seems to be the best Mexican restaurant here in Casa Grande. We went there yesterday with Anton and Cynthia. Studying the menu, I had to ask the waitress what a 'carbon' burrito was. Visions of beef cooked to utter blackness filled my imaginary eyes. No, it's cubed steak bits, and it's delicious. But I took huge bites and gobbled them down without hardly chewing them. Why did I do that?

It's not the first time I've wolfed my food down. Huge gulps of air go down with the gobbling. Later, at home, I belched for hours. I threw tagamet, papaya pills, pepcid, Mylanta gas pills, and acidolphilus capsules at the problem. But they don't do that much for human stupidity. Max, our dog, can get away with wolfing food down. He's not so distant from the wolves. However human digestive systems are a little more delicate. I need to remember that.

February 7, 2000

"I Hope I'm Wrong"

I don't think this is one of those 'fluffy-bunny journals' that never deal with depressing shit and never show their writer's glum sides. As a matter of fact, I don't remember one single pixel of bunny here.

That's not to say I don't have enough other cute critters filling up the K-bins. For instance:

cute ducks at picnic grounds by Canyon Lake
seen yesterday. . .

and happy lovebirds, despite their gray feathers,
these from Phoenix Zoo last year.

Though most days I am a happy duck here, there are times when I'm out of my element. Most days I'm a happy lovebird, too. That's most days. What about the other days? What about when my own thoughts give me the shivers? I don't think I've held back on showing my less than cheerful aspects. This morning and last night have been like that, I find chilly mental draftiness when I've gone into those unlit rooms of my mind. My muse has been creeping me out lately.

No Stopping The Fall If it were not the first time letting go, you could release the tight clench. But it is, And all the hard fist balled up is matching my tight heart. All I can do is squeeze tighter. Can a world fall back on itself like that? Black holes are made this way. Here, behold this black hole that is me. I have fallen back in on myself, and there is no stopping the fall. JAL, 2-6- 00

Has the muse from the future 'fallen back' into the past? This is typical of what I pull out from her these days. It's the only possible interpretation I can find of this. A future me is grieving over losing Laura. I've lost family members and friends, which is hard enough. Still, that's nothing like losing a soulmate. It's the only thing that explains my last creepy poem result. Maybe the death of Shayna is causing me to think about when Laura will pass away. Whenever it happens, it will be too soon.

lovebird with only memories

Oh, I know I won't be alone when that time comes. It's just that I fear it so. And I fear it being soon. Laura's tried to prepare me, telling me about her cardiovascular problems when we first met. And I'm probably as prepared as anyone can be. It's just that there is no preparation sufficient for that sort of thing. Maybe that's why everything that comes from my muse seems to be coming from that dark future.

I'm not greatly sad for the moment. The moment is its usually bright, sunny climate. But I sense something in the air, like when the wind gets a certain chill to it, that whispers storms ahead.

I hope I'm wrong.