Illustration Friday: Float

SHIP
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

I painted this in acrylic back in '99. It was my dad's ship, USS Severling, back in the Korean War. I remember him telling me the captain always said their main duty was to keep the ship afloat.

Illustration Friday: Fresh

tomato
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

When I think of the word 'fresh' I think of fresh fruits and vegetables. Especially tomatoes. I grow them every summer, and use them mostly for salads and spaghetti sauce.
The best thing about them is that I know they're fresh off the vine.

Where's Roy?

I've been a big Oakland A's fan ever since they moved out here in 1968. I've been to countless A's games over the years, and have listened to them on the radio and TV broadcasts. If the A's are on TV, I usually have them on...like background music.
In every game I've been to at the Oakland Coliseum, and in every home game I've listened to since the beginning, there has always been the powerful voice of Roy Steele. He's been the public address announcer at the Coliseum for over 37 years now. His deep baritone is well known among A's fans, and players from around the league call him 'The Voice of God' ....
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the OAKLAND COLISEUM..."
He's like the host of the show, the ringmaster. I remember all the special inflections he has given players' names over the years, "Now batting...number nine...RRRREGGIE JACKSONNNN..." or "Number twenty five...MARK McGWIIIIRRRE..."
So tonight when I turned the game on, there was some other thin-voiced guy doing the public address! Where's Roy?? For the first time since I've been listening, Roy wasn't there tonight.
I'm sure he'll be back soon, maybe he's ill, or got stuck in traffic or something. But listening to someone else doing the PA was astonishing in its dissonance, like the universe was suddenly a little off-kilter.
We get so used to these subtle institutions in our lives, like a background soundtrack. And when a piece of that soundtrack is suddenly missing, the music doesn't sound quite right.

Illustration Friday: ESCAPE

SPACEWAL
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

Whatever we escape from, even if it's the Earth's atmosphere, some things we can't help but take with us.

To see your own shadow

Today I was walking along, and noticed my shadow on the sidewalk, most prominently the shadow of my own head, or should I say...hair...the shadow of my head was a bulbous mass that instantly reminded me of the character Fredo, from the movie "The Godfather".
It was at that time that I realized, okay! Time for a haircut!
No, I may be many things, but I ain't no Fredo...
In 1970 I used to admire the shadow my head cast when walking home from school, it resembled Little Joe from the Bonanza TV series. Although it was just a tv show, at least the shadow of my head looked like his at the time.
I have looked at my shadow on the sidewalk all my life...mostly my head shadow. Sometimes I would admire the mane that I had, even way back in high school, during the 'Welcome Back Cotter' years on TV in the 70's, I would try to emulate the John Travolta hairstyle...But that was way back then... when I had a full head of hair to play with.
But what it always comes down to is the shadow on the sidewalk, or when you see yourself in a sidewalk window...Vanity? Perhaps...but all I know is, when I saw my shadow today...my god, time for a haircut.

Down Memory Lane

I have the unique opportunity to live in a quite historic neighborhood. In fact, it is a neighborhood that has been around for over a hundred years. Today I saw historical maps online, and could see the initial lines of the city...and could see the 'old' parts of the city.
This fascinates me to no end...I've always been a history buff, but always in the sense of World history, and all that it entails, but THIS...this right here in my own backyard now...
This is not ancient or anything, not like Roman Empire ruins. No, this is local.
My friend and I walk through these streets that were established about one hundred years ago, and some of the houses are still the same, just as they were...One hundred years of history in these houses!
One hundred years of families living there...The stories they could tell, the children who grew up in those houses, and the subsequent families who moved in later...do they all have stories they could tell from those old houses we walk by?
I'm sure they do...and I'm sure there's stories right here in this house.

Depth

WHALES
Originally uploaded by Olias444.

There are many kinds of depth. Emotional depth, spiritual depth, or a measure of content, like in a story. But the first thing I though of was the ocean's depth. About 3/4 of the Earth is covered with water, there's a whole other world under there...
A human can probably dive to about 20 or 30 feet without the aid of diving equipment. A whale can go much deeper, and they're mammals.
If you look up in the sky, and can sometimes see the contrails of a 747 at cruising altitude, which is about 35,000 feet, that's how deep the ocean is, in its deepest parts.
Now that's deep.

Gabby

In previous posts, I have mentioned a cat called Gabby. She has been my pal, my roommate, my conscience, my nemesis....but mostly my best buddy here in this house. She is the poor little kitty that got kicked out of her home, and had a hard road.
But now she's here, living with me for over a year now.
We have fallen into our routines...at 8:30 she hops up onto the bed and settles in on the lambs wool coat and sleeps for an hour. Then she gets up and head-butts me, "wraa-wraa"...
It's time for her breakfast...so I get up and she runs ahead of me and then waits...impatiently as I prepare her food, she does what cats do, walk and weave between my legs in anticipation of Food, and then OH BOY! Breakfast!
Then I go about my own routine....make coffee, take a shower, read the paper....
Then I sit down and start the computer and go online, or sit at the drawing board...And for the rest of the day, little Gabby will come and whine...she wants some more food, she wants to go outside....so I give her more food, or I let her outside.
This has been our routine...Until I realized tonight, even though Gabby and I live together, this is all we have done...we have established this routine of anonymity...we go through these motions of everyday life without even thinking about how much we appreciate each other. And I realized I don't pick her up as much as I should....or pet her as much as I should...
I have sensed such a melancholy in Gabby's meows...
So tonight when I was watching TV, she came and jumped in my lap, and I made sure to give her some attention, I petted her for an hour or more....and she purred like the dickens....
This made me think of family and friends...Have I just gone through the motions with them as well?
I think that I have, for years...

To Draw a House

I have always loved to draw. Even when I was a kid, I would draw silly drawings all the time. I remember evenings with my parents in the living room while they were watching 'The Fugitive' or 'Peyton Place', I had my drawing pad on the floor and I would ask them, "What should I make?"
They would always be so supportive and say something like, "why don't you draw our house?"
I drew pencil drawings ALL the time back then, I still have old drawings that astonish me to this day, some that I don't remember even doing until I see them.
When I went off to college, it seems that's all I did, even to the detriment of my Business classes, which I didn't like anyway...
It was then that I realized that this is what I wanted to do, this is who I am....
Recently I have lamented the lack of passion for drawing that I had back then. For the past few years, I have hardly drawn at all.
After the intervening years of computers, 3D programs, game companies, and everything that goes with it, somewhere along the line I lost that particular Muse...I have painted, but even now, I'm just a novice...
It is just the basic, simple thing of drawing...a blank piece of paper and a pencil, that's what it all came down to in the beginning. And that's what I have missed.
And now, I'm drawing an old house, a house that's being renovated, close to its original form, and it's a wonderful transformation to observe, day by day.
As I draw this house, I wonder if I still have the chops. But as I draw each line, it makes me think of those who built it. Each form, each trim, each buttress, each chiseled ornament. It makes me think of the craftsmen who designed it, and the sense of pride they must have had. Did they step away and look at it from a distance?...and then go back and fix something only they could see needed fixing...Did they step back when they were finished, and look at it with pride?
That's what I would do with my drawings, and I have a certain joy that I'm doing it again.

Agamemnon's Pool

Agamemnon was an ancient king of Mycenea, which is in present day Greece, and I got to swim in his pool...it was all in a dream of course. But it seemed so real. I climbed up a hillside to a grotto with columns and vines which covered a magnificent swimming pool, which seemed to glow, like pools at night that have lights in them. In the background was a spectacular landscape, something like a Maxfield Parrish or Lawrence Alma-Tadema painting. Two artists whose work I have always admired. It was like I was living in one of their paintings.
An old man in a Greek style robe was there and said, "you can jump in if you'd like." So I did, and then one of the most peaceful and joyful feelings came over me. I could swim underwater without the need to breathe. At the bottom of the pool was series of mosaics, colorful, depicting scenes from everyday life back then in vivid detail. When I resurfaced, the old man pointed to another pool nearby which was bathed in sunlight. Think of the most magnificent resort pool you've ever seen, that's what that one was like. So I dove into that one. Once again I experienced a kind of inner joy that I would be hard pressed to compare to any experience in waking life.
I think I would rank that as my best dream ever.
That's why I like to dream...not just in the 'dream big' sense, but in the literal sense. In fact I look forward to them. They are infinite journeys within our own subconscious, and we get to take these journeys every night.
Not all dreams are that spectacular, some are mundane or incomprehensible, but nevertheless they are all fascinating. I've had similar ones on that kind of epic scale. Like the 'Grand Canyon at Sears' dream, or the "Kamakeriad" dream, which takes place in the future. Native Americans once again ruled, and performed dances in hovering machines for tourists. I wish we could somehow record these.
I wonder if these are sometimes a psychic window.
As in the Agamemnon dream, it also made me wonder if I had actually lived back then, as in reincarnation...I have also had dreams where I'm a German soldier in WWII, those too are quite vivid.
Sometimes I dream of my dad, not just as a walk-on role, but an actual visit by his spirit. One time I dreamed he sat on my bed and said, "I found your book" and winked. It felt like that was actually him. What he meant by that, I still don't know.
Of course, I've had the common type dreams, like having to take an exam after missing a whole semester of classes, or the 'flying' dreams, or the ones where your hair or teeth fall out, or where you're naked, or have no pants. All of these things have symbolism, and I find it interesting to try to interpret them.
Luckily, I seldom have Bad dreams or nightmares. But on the rare occaision that I do, it always involves this buzzing sound and the presence of what I would call 'demons' who always sting when they touch you, they always look like small ventriloquist dummies with bug-eyes, and are very frightening. And the sleep is very fitful, so I wonder if it's a neurological thing. But again, these are very rare, but interesting to note they're always the same.
Anyway, I will look forward to what's on tonite...from within my mind.

I Ain't No Saint

No one would have believed this utter destruction...a major American City destroyed, and literally millions displaced, wandering, hungry, thirsty, with nowhere to go, except for the vague directions that would leave them into further oblivion.
Who could have believed this?...in one of the most historic and flamboyant cities in the United States.....New Orleans, Louisiana.
It is truly heartbreaking to see what has happened there, an entire city , literally drowned.
This has happened before....
In 1900, Galveston, Texas was wiped out, but we weren't there then, but we are here now....
Today, we do what we can, or we do what we WANT to do...we want to help as much as we can, of course, as long as it's in our comfort zone. I even volunteered with the Red Cross, with the actual thought of going over there to help, until it seemed too 'hard' to do...therefore my comfort zone was breached. "Why would you want to do this?"
'Well, just something to brag about I guess'...
But this doesn't mean I won't give!...I just feel a bit guilty about not going. Sure there are needy right here in our own back yards, but they're not as 'glamourous' as disaster victims, and therein lies the vanity of some of our charity.
I ain't no Saint. No, not at all. I turned away at the serious hardship. And I do feel
I had a chance to go over there and help. Clean up, help with the food and all, but no....
I'm selfish..... forgive me, but I ain't no Saint.