ORANGE CATS

I made this video a couple years back, more or less as a Mother's Day Gift for my Wife. This was one of the last things I did for her before she moved away. I never really thought I would see her again after she left, and with the exception of the divorce hearing, I was pretty much correct. But in the last 6 months or so, things have opened up in terms of our communication, so she was actually here today as I posted this video, and of course, it made her cry.

HIDDEN TALENTS

Sometimes I consider my own mortality and wonder if, or how I will be remembered. Will I be remembered fondly for my sense of humor, or will I be remembered as a good and kind man? Will I be remembered for all of the mistakes I have made, or the many hurts I have caused? Will I be remembered at all, or will I be remembered for my many hidden talents? If I am remembered for anything, will those that remember me still wonder why I never did anything with my life?

I was chatting with a friend online last night, and shared some of my drawings. Her question of me was "What are you doing keeping all of this talent to yourself?" I really did not have a very good answer, but my response to her query was "I already know I am talented, but... I do not care enough about it to do anything about it. I do these things because I enjoy them. If I tried to do it for a job, I would grow to hate it."

She accepted my answer, but obviously did not agree with me. She told me "I'm not saying it would have to be a job. It would be sharing with others and maybe witnessing to some that may need it too." She continued, "...you and I really need to meet....so I can kick your butt!!! What are you doing? You have so much talent, and you are keeping it all to yourself. I'm not saying this because I think all art and talent should be exploited or something. But, gifts of this magnitude are meant to be shared for others to enjoy. God gave you this gift, it should be shared, and it can be shared in the terms of understanding that it comes from God, therefore helping others to become interested in what that means....and you could be helping others, whether it is kids who also doubt their own talent, or adults who have been thru a lot too."

Of course she is right. I could share my talents, my abilities, my art, my resources, my time, and even my life. There are many areas across the board where I have been very selfish, and there are many things I could be doing a lot differently. Even if I changed, and began to share more of myself, I may not make a difference in any one else’s life, but perhaps in opening myself up to others, perhaps it will be my life that is changed. Perhaps in letting go of my inhibitions, my fears, my insecurities, my pride.... perhaps in the letting go of these things I will find my life becoming better, and I myself growing happier, and healthier.

The images I am posting along with this blog are all pictures and cartoons and caricatures I have drawn the past couple years. Towards the end of 2006 I became interested in pointillism, and many of the drawings here are approximately the size of postage stamps. I will attempt later to post other drawings I have done, which include more cartoons, doodles, sketches, and even tattoos I have drawn. I have so many photos to go through, and boxes of paper... I cannot say how long it will take me to do all of this.

My friend was right, even though I have heard the same speech over the years from my ex wife, my sister, my girlfriends, my friends, my family, and just people who have seen the handful of drawings I have laying around. Every one of them it seems, is more interested in my potential than I am. Every one of them gets frustrated with me for not exploiting these gifts. I understand thier feelings, and have no problem understanding the point they keep trying to make. I just wish they could for one moment step into my shoes and understand how difficult this all is for me. Here I have something I like to do, and something I am good at, but to me, it will never be good enough. I have OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) and there is a certain order I have to keep. When things fall out of array or out of routine, It makes me crazy.

When I was young, I played the clarinet. I practiced seven days a week. However, I would never be allowed to ever become proficient at it. My step father was a rotten man. Angry, bitter, miserly, and mean. He was fine to everyone else, but to me, he was a tyrant. I was kicked out of my home, but my nephew was allowed to move in. I was not allowed to touch him ever, but he touched me often enough with a switch. For that matter, he touched me often enough with his fists and hands.

As for the clarinet, I was only allowed to practice in the cold unfinished basement. He hated the repetitious nature of my lessons, and did not want to hear me play. let alone hit the bad notes. Now, if you have played a reed instrument, you know it is not a pleasant sensation when you hit the bad notes anyway. But to have him ridicule me when I did play, and yell at me when I didn't, it created confusion in me. He was always reminding me how much the instrument was costing, and I "by God better make it worth the money he was paying." As best I can tell, it was never worth the money.

I was not allowed to eat in the same room as him, I was not allowed to leave my room except to eat and use the bathroom. I never was allowed to draw (waste paper) or build anything ("don't know how to use tools properly" Every step of the way instead of encouraging, loving, and teaching me, he beat me down and ridiculed me. He minimized every accomplishment I ever had, and never once called me by my name. Around other people I was referred to as "the boy", but when we were alone, I was usually some variation of "You worthless son of a bitch!" This killed whatever self esteem I had.

To this day, if I cannot do it well, I generally will not do it at all. I now know I have choices and I do try to make the right ones, but sometimes it is easier just not to try at all. Thats it in a nutshell. I hope you like these images. I am going to post this as it is, and will get back to the thought later. I have been awake since 4am, and with only three hours sleep under my belt, I am just not able to focus any more right now. Thanks for your patience.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, AND THANKS FOR THE BROKEN HEART

I really blew it today. I know how and why I lost my composure, and yet somehow looking back at the things I said, it does not seem real. Maybe it has not sunk in yet. I blew it. I am in a miserable mood right now, mostly feeling sorry for myself. I am angry at myself, and I am angry at my ex girlfriend. The horrible part is that I feel like she finally forced me to do and say these things tonight. Because of my underlying emotions, and my feelings of loss of control in my life and relationship, I allowed my hurt feelings to fester into anger, and when I did that, it opened the door for me to act and talk in a way that was potentially abusive and controlling. Were my words abusive? Was I abusive? Was I really controlling? As I explore these questions and try to sort out my thoughts, I apologize for whatever emotions I may trigger from those that read this blog. I apologize for my intensity, and I hope you can forgive me. I am essentially just venting, and this is the only outlet I have at 4am on Valentine's Day.



My ex girlfriend and I have been struggling for a time. I know it is not all my fault as she might have others believe, and I know it is not entirely her fault, which I actually accused her of tonight. But there is so much more to this story, and I have to write about it. I HAVE TO.... for my sanity. I need to sort out these myriad thoughts and feelings of hurt, betrayal, and anger. I am presently feeling an overall sense of sick emptiness. My heart is crumbling yet again because I am in denial. I love this woman even though things have not been going well for awhile. I never wanted to hurt her, but yet it is precisely what she expected all along, and what she accused me of, what she challenged me to do everytime things got particularly difficult.



In order for me to do damage control tomorrow, likely by way of an email, I need to think about the things that are bothering me, and put them into words as opposed to feelings. I need to identify what hurt me and why it hurt me, I need to acknowledge that I am indeed angry, even if anger is actually a secondary emotion.

Here are some snippets I found about love.

If someone you love hurts you cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it.

A final comfort that is small, but not cold: The heart is the only broken instrument that works.

I miss you a little, I guess you could say, a little too much, a little too often, and a little more each day.

Don’t leave everything to to god though, because:
“God can heal a broken heart, but He has to have all the pieces.”


Here is something positive for you,


“Giving up doesn’t always mean you are weak; sometimes it means that you are strong enough to let go. “


And as positive as it gets:


It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all.


Or you can laugh it away with something like:Nothing takes the taste out of peanutbutter quite like unrequited love.


And never giving up:


It takes a minute to like someone, and hour to love someone, but to forget someone takes a life time.

MORE PICS

ROBO-BOB AND THE BOYS

I am still scanning and editing the stack of photographs my exwife gave me, and in the last entry posted some pics of some posies and some pussies. (Flowers and Felines?) Looks like I will add a few more as I make more progress scanning them in. Aside from the yawn shots of Abbott and Costello (Red & Blue collars) there is one of the boys playing with their buddy Bob. I had a RoboSapien for a while, and not sure that the cats did not have more fun with him than I did. I was able to have Bob grasp one or more of their toys and play with the cats until Abbott (Red) took the toy away from Bob and dragged it to my ex to play with.

OLD PHOTOGRAPHS

My exwife found a number of pictures I took during the last couple months we were together. It was summertime, a couple months after my heart surgery, and the flowers around our house were in full bloom, and our cats were out everyday playing in the sunshine. So, I am uploading several of the pics, including one of each of our kitties Abbott & Costello. (Abbott in Red Collar, Costello in Blue Collar)

SLEEP AID

DECISIONS, DECISIONS...

I have sleep apnea, diabetes, a heart condition, and occasionally insomnia. Inotherwords, sometimes, life is a bitch. There are occasions, as I have mentioned previously in this blog, where for one reason or another, sleep evades me. Try as I might, I can lay down, count sheep, but I just see that working. Besides, sheep scare me. (Not Really) Tonight I decided to count liquor bottles. There were three of them in the freezer. Gee! I sure love having a choice! But sometimes it is so hard to make up your mind with so many choices available.

THE CHOICE MAKES ITSELF

So I looked at the bottles, and decided right away that Ouzo was a very bad idea no matter what time of the day it was. I could have done the black Velvet but my roomie cannot stand Wild Turkey, so even though the bottle is mine, I will leave it for him. (Actually, he has been drinking most of the Ouzo as well) So that leaves my favorite of the three, Wild Turkey on three rocks. If that wont relax me enough to find sleep, I do not know what will. I generally do not ever need more than one drink, and seldom drink more than a couple when I do, which is rare. I do not have a problem with drinking, I just have control issues and will not ever drink myself to oblivion. I do not like being out of control.

NIGHTCAP ANYONE?

So here it is, nearly 3am, and nightcap in hand, I am ready to call it a day. Tomorrow promises to be a long day. I am supposed to meet up with my (EX?) girlfriend at 5pm , and am a little nervous. She called it quits while insisting it was really my idea. Funny, I would think I might have remembered that. Relationships can be so difficult and draining at times. I do not know why it has to be so difficult to communicate when we both seem to be saying the same thing. On the one hand, neither one of us wants it to be over. I know I don't, and she says she feels the same way. But I am having a hard time telling these days. On the other hand, I am pretty tired of feeling like I was last on her list of priorities. I guess tomorrow I may find out.

HUMOR IN ADVERTISING

I found this at Fred Meyers yesterday, and my room mate and I got a great laugh from it. Maybe because our minds are generally in the toilet (literally) we thought it was a riot. Even reading it straight, it was funny, because we both apparantly appreciate bathroom humor. Either that or because we realize the futility of anything covering some of the odors that come out of that room.

A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING

Introducing my Granddaughter, Makayla

About five months ago I met my stepson's fiance for the first time. She was shy, and quiet and scarcely turned away from the jigsaw puzzle she was working on. Shortly afterwards, my step son (Chris), his fiancé (Betsy), and her daughter (Makayla) visited me at my girlfriend's apartment. The very first day I met Makayla it was her 5th birthday. I had nothing for her, but as Chris informed me she was about to be my grand daughter, I acted fast. Remembering a pair of stuffed Hershey's Kisses toys my ex wife (Chris' Mom) had bought for me many Valentines Days before, I presented those to Mac with as little ceremony as possible.

So, Chris and Betsy were married last weekend, and although brief, I was very glad to attend the ceremony. Perhaps later I may have some pictures to post. This weekend there were a couple firsts. I received my first kiss from my grand daughter. Her grandmother whined that she did not even merit a kiss from Makayla, but somehow I did. So I teased that I would have to train the child to kiss my cheek whenever I asked for sugar.... my ex groaned, "You would!" The other first was a photograph, the first of me with my grand Daughter.

These things are important to me because I really have little family, and no biological children. Christopher is the closest thing to a son I will ever have, and I could not be prouder of him if he were my son. So for him to insist that Mac call me Grandpa Jeff, it makes me feel kinda warm and proud all at once. I was so worried that because I was such a schmuck, I would have a negative impact on his life. He turned out wonderfully in spite of me. He is a decent, hard working, loving man, who I have complete faith in. His bride is beautiful, and intelligent, and funny. She is a real kick in the pants. Makayla is the embodiment of a little girl; sugar and spice and everything nice. Might want to cut back on the sugar though! She is a happy, smiling, active 5 year old who loves chattering and being the center of attention. She is very photogenic, as you can see by the way she posed for the camera above. Me? Chris' camera blinded me.... but a good picture nonetheless.

Here is the rub; I have never been a father. I have never been a grandfather. This is all a little new to me. I do not really understand what is expected of me in this role. I do not know how to be a grandfather. But.... with thanks to almighty God for the healing He has brought into my life and into the relationship with my ex, and my step son, I am looking forward to trying to be one.

OTHER PEOPLE'S TEARS

Since I was up this morning, rather, since I was still up this morning, poking around my blogs, I ran across an old blog which marked a very important moment in my life. I was writing about my ex wife and our relationship, and something profound slipped out. I had quite forgotten about it until this morning. Well, since I know she has never seen my blog, and had never read the entry, and since we are now talking again after several years of not talking, I went ahead and called her at work (she works graveyard) and asked if I could share the blog (read it to her). http://thetruthhurts.blogspot.com/2005_08_20_archive.html (You can find it here)

So I began to read. I thought it would only take a couple minutes... may have taken a few, but as I began to read, I realized that she had become deathly quiet. I realized I had her attention, and she was listening to me, so I continued to read. Now, I know I can write halfway decent if I set my mind to it, and that on occasion I actually write quite well. I think the entry wrote itself for me, but it came out well. As I finished reading the blog entry, I realized that she was crying softly. This was confirmed moments later when she sniffled a little, and said, "You asshole!"

I never intended to make her cry. God knows how many tears she has shed because of me. I think back over my life, and while I have had more than my own share of tears, I recognize that I have been the cause of many more tears. Not only with my ex wife, but my current girlfriend, my past girlfriends, my sister, my mother, my nephew once or twice, a particularly rude and obnoxious customer at the bar I used to work at; the list goes on. How many tears besides my own am I responsible for? When I got married, Pastor Jon wished Terri and I "enough tears to make us tender". We should never have given him free reign to modify our ceremony as he saw fit. But, in retrospect, I kinda understand what he meant, and I am thankful.

I really do have a lot to be thankful for. Not everyone can remain friends with thier ex spouse. Not everyone has the opportunity to take a good long hard look at themself and then have the opportunity to change.

I guess perhaps I am approaching yet another crossroads in my life, and I will be facing the prospect of changing yet again. This time, I think, I will be changing to save my life. I have promised it so many times through the years, and it is past time, way past time I live up to my promises.

NOCTURNE

Something is wrong. You feel somehow inexplicably that something is amiss, yet you cannot put your finger on it, and say "There! That's it! That is my problem!" No; you just do not feel right, and something deep inside you is telling you something is wrong. This is what I am feeling tonight, and it may be a large part of the reason I have not been sleeping well lately. This is like the third day of messed of sleep for me, and I have lost count of the number of days in a row that my stupid heart acted up. Yes, even now, as I type this, I can feel my heart beating rapid and irregular. Actually, it is in atrial fibrulation, so it is not so much beating in my chest as it is having a siezure. It is completely my fault too, I should not complain about my lot in life, or the trouble I have, because everything that is happening to me now is pretty much the result of me making some incredibly poor decisions in the past.

My heart; lack of exercise, smoking, bad diet, genetic predisposition aside, and diabetes aside, I made choices that affected my heart health, and I ended up with triple bypass at 37 years old. Too young for this sort of stuff. Okay, my diabetes situation is much the same.... Had I taken better care of myself.... and of course diabetes leaves me predisposed for heart disease.... CRAP!

Sometimes, I am afraid to go to sleep because on some level I am afraid I will not wake up. My father went to bed one night, he was 43 years old... he had been sick, and had just returned to work.... and that night died of a massive heart attack. I cannot say that less than 7 months before my 43rd birthday that it is not something I think about. I have long believed that I would not see past 43, but it was so much further away then. Now, it is practically here. My cardio surgeon told me if I did not change, I had 5 years, and that time is up in a few weeks. I think about this a lot and lament that I screwed up so bad. I had the opportunity to change... I had the opportunity to live.... but I wasted it. So.... leaves me asking myself: "Whatchugointodoaboutitasshole?"

For now, I am going to get my feet up, and try to get some rest. I will consider this all later.

THEMATIC APPERCEPTION TEST

I realized that for some reason this poem was not legible when I posted it before, and since it is an image file and not a text file, it made it difficult to edit.. sorta. I broke it up to 3 larger images so it could be read. Have fun.