Sam gets home tomorrow for 9 wonderful days. Filled with Thanksgivings things, a high school football game, Christmas shopping and decorating and lots and lots of chatting. The 2016 painting year is winding down, honestly probably not a lot of painting between now until after the new year. These are the last of a couple little watercolors I've been playing with until, the studio door closes.
Same painting in different phases. This one -eventually will be off to Galatea Fine Art Gallery on Harrison Ave in Boston for the Holiday Show. 24 x 24 acylic.
Sad to say the Saturday Night Live opening brought a few tears to my face this morning. We went to dinner with like minded friends last night. Lots of discussion - and my very smart friend said that he does not agree with the Trump vote but his theory was that we lost sight of the middle class. I should clarify the hurting middle class. There is the wonderful book its 12 years old now, I'll have to hunt for my copy and re-read it. "What's the Matter with Kansas" by Thomas Frank., it is 12 years old but worth the read.
If I had the means I would move to Italy. But what does that do, - give up. No, as Bill Maher made his blue baseball caps, We are Still here. And as Kate McKinnon said after singing Hallelujah. She's not giving up and either should we.
“And even though it all went wrong, I’ll stand before the Lord of Song, with nothing on my tongue but hallelujah.”
It does help immensely to know that shgot 1.8 million more votes then he.
Every time something pivotal happens one of my first thoughts is what would mom think.... When my son started working at Google, her oldest grand kid Katie graduation from U Chicago and following her fathers footsteps and moving here to Boston,. Sara another grandchild getting excepted to the Peace Corp and on her way to Uganda in May Alison getting her Bachelors and Masters in 4 years from UVA and my Sam's future pivotal moments.
And I think about what my moms thoughts would be over Tuesday nights results. She would be devastated heart broken and sick to her stomach. Four years ago when she was still strong and fighting, I will never forget that she stayed up until 3 am to watch President Obama in Chicago. She said she looked for Katie in the crowd, All her Granddaughters are feisty Liberals.
AS you can see I'm still grieving. It was fantastic to see so many protesters take to the streets. I wish some would channel that energy to keep the fight going. Many of the college campuses have grief counselors for the students.
They should have young Obama's instead leading them to more and more protest, community activist. Why do other country's protest and we don't. Our short time in Athens over the summer - every day there was a protest. The doctors one day teachers the next and I lost who was after that. The 99&'s started something and it faded out with no clear leader. Then The Black Lives Matter --- Maybe this will be the spark
I can't watch the CBS Morning show anymore I don't have the stomach for it.
Like Garrison maybe I'll spend more time perfecting heirloom tomato's, and perfecting my carbonara I'll travel more and learn about other cultures, I'll read more, I'll enjoy my husbands love of ancient history. I hope to see and snorkel in more of the coral reefs before they go away and set my sites in Alaskan and enjoy polar bears before they leave us. And yes I'll be a better birder- isn't that what we Liberals do. And I'll have a blind eye to the folks who have just elected this mess. Well actually we elected her.
They will have to deal with his mess.
Garrison Keillor is an author and radio personality.
So he won. The nation takes a deep breath. Raw ego and proud illiteracy have won out, and a severely learning-disabled man with a real character problem will be president. We are so exhausted from thinking about this election, millions of people will take up leaf-raking and garage cleaning with intense pleasure. We liberal elitists are wrecks. The Trumpers had a whale of a good time, waving their signs, jeering at the media, beating up protesters, chanting “Lock her up” — we elitists just stood and clapped. Nobody chanted “Stronger Together.” It just doesn’t chant.
The Trumpers never expected their guy to actually win the thing, and that’s their problem now. They wanted only to whoop and yell, boo at the H-word, wear profane T-shirts, maybe grab a crotch or two, jump in the RV with a couple of six-packs and go out and shoot some spotted owls. It was pleasure enough for them just to know that they were driving us wild with dismay — by “us,” I mean librarians, children’s authors, yoga practitioners, Unitarians, bird-watchers, people who make their own pasta, opera-goers, the grammar police, people who keep books on their shelves, that bunch. The Trumpers exulted in knowing we were tearing our hair out. They had our number, like a bratty kid who knows exactly how to make you grit your teeth and froth at the mouth.
Alas for the Trump voters, the disasters he will bring on this country will fall more heavily on them than anyone else. The uneducated white males who elected him are the vulnerable ones, and they will not like what happens next.
Early on the morning of Nov. 9, Republican President-elect Donald Trump addressed supporters in New York, declaring victory over Democrat Hillary Clinton. Here are key moments from that speech. (Video: Sarah Parnass/Photo: Ricky Carioti/The Washington Post)To all the patronizing B.S. we’ve read about Trump expressing the white working-class’s displacement and loss of the American Dream, I say, “Feh!” — go put your head under cold water. Resentment is no excuse for bald-faced stupidity. America is still the land where the waitress’s kids can grow up to become physicists and novelists and pediatricians, but it helps a lot if the waitress and her husband encourage good habits and the ambition to use your God-given talents and the kids aren’t plugged into electronics day and night. Whooping it up for the candidate of cruelty and ignorance does less than nothing for your kids.
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We liberal elitists are now completely in the clear. The government is in Republican hands. Let them deal with him. Democrats can spend four years raising heirloom tomatoes, meditating, reading Jane Austen, traveling around the country, tasting artisan beers, and let the Republicans build the wall and carry on the trade war with China and deport the undocumented and deal with opioids, and we Democrats can go for a long , brisk walk and smell the roses.
I like Republicans. I used to spend Sunday afternoons with a bunch of them, drinking Scotch and soda and trying to care about NFL football. It was fun. I tried to think like them. (Life is what you make it. People are people. When the going gets tough, tough noogies.) But I came back to liberal elitism.
Don’t be cruel. Elvis said it, and it’s true. We all experienced cruelty back in our playground days — boys who beat up on the timid, girls who made fun of the homely and naive — and most of us, to our shame, went along with it, afraid to defend the victims lest we become one of them. But by your 20s, you should be done with cruelty. Mr. Trump was the cruelest candidate since George Wallace. How he won on fear and bile is for political pathologists to study. The country is already tired of his noise, even his own voters. He is likely to become the most intensely disliked president since Herbert Hoover. His children will carry the burden of his name. He will never be happy in his own skin. But the damage he will do to our country — who knows? His supporters voted for change, and boy, are they going to get it.
[The impossible has happened]
Back to real life. I went up to my home town the other day and ran into my gym teacher, Stan Nelson, looking good at 96. He commanded a landing craft at Normandy on June 6, 1944, and never said a word about it back then, just made us do chin-ups whether we wanted to or not. I saw my biology teacher Lyle Bradley, a Marine pilot in the Korean War, still going bird-watching in his 90s. I was not a good student then, but I am studying both of them now. They have seen it all and are still optimistic. The past year of politics has taught us absolutely nothing. Zilch. Zero. Nada. The future is scary. Let the uneducated have their day. I am now going to pay more attention to teachers.
I saw this on Facebook and it was perfect.
I don’t think you understand us right now.
I think you think this is about politics.
I think you believe this is all just sour grapes; the crocodile tears of the losing locker room with the scoreboard going against us at the buzzer.
I can only tell you that you’re wrong. This is not about losing an election.This isn’t about not winning a contest. This is about two very different ways of seeing the world.
Hillary supporters believe in a diverse America; one where religion or skin color or sexual orientation or place of birth aren’t liabilities or deficiencies or moral defects. Her campaign was one of inclusion and connection and interdependency. It was about building bridges and breaking ceilings. It was about going high.
Trump supporters believe in a very selective America; one that is largely white and straight and Christian, and the voting verified this. Donald Trump has never made any assertions otherwise. He ran a campaign of fear and exclusion and isolation—and that’s the vision of the world those who voted for him have endorsed.
They have aligned with the wall-builder and the professed p*ssy-grabber, and they have co-signed his body of work, regardless of the reasons they give for their vote:
Every horrible thing Donald Trump ever said about women or Muslims or people of color has now been validated.
Every profanity-laced press conference and every call to bully protestors and every ignorant diatribe has been endorsed.
Every piece of anti-LGBTQ legislation Mike Pence has championed has been signed-off on.
Half of our country has declared these things acceptable, noble,American.
This is the disconnect and the source of our grief today. It isn’t a political defeat that we’re lamenting, it’s a defeat for Humanity.
We’re not angry that our candidate lost. We’re angry because our candidate’s losing means this country will be less safe, less kind, and less available to a huge segment of its population, and that’s just the truth.
Those who have always felt vulnerable are now left more so. Those whose voices have been silenced will be further quieted. Those who always felt marginalized will be pushed further to the periphery. Those who feared they were seen as inferior now have confirmation in actual percentages.
Those things have essentially been campaign promises of Donald Trump, and so many of our fellow citizens have said this is what they want too.
This has never been about politics.
This is not about one candidate over the other.
It’s not about one’s ideas over another’s.
It is not blue vs. red.
It’s not her emails vs. his bad language.
It’s not her dishonesty vs. his indecency.
It’s about overt racism and hostility toward minorities.
It’s about religion being weaponized.
It’s about crassness and vulgarity and disregard for women.
It’s about a barricaded, militarized, bully nation.
It’s about an unapologetic, open-faced ugliness.
And it is not only that these things have been ratified by our nation that grieve us; all this hatred, fear, racism, bigotry, and intolerance—it’s knowing that these things have been amen-ed by our neighbors, our families, our friends, those we work with and worship alongside. That is the most horrific thing of all. We now know how close this is.
It feels like living in enemy territory being here now, and there’s no way around that. We wake up today in a home we no longer recognize. We are grieving the loss of a place we used to love but no longer do. This may be America today but it is not the America we believe in or recognize or want.
This is not about a difference of political opinion, as that’s far too small to mourn over. It’s about a fundamental difference in how we view the worth of all people—not just those who look or talk or think or vote the way we do.
Grief always laments what might have been, the future we were robbed of, the tomorrow that we won’t get to see, and that is what we walk through today. As a nation we had an opportunity to affirm the beauty of our diversity this day, to choose ideas over sound bytes, to let everyone know they had a place at the table, to be the beacon of goodness and decency we imagine that we are—and we said no.
After feeling the whole day was a waste. A little bit of time and now it has morphed into this. I think I like it - so much so that I want to morph the one from last week and give it more dimension.
The new "tree" series is only 2 paintings in. I envisioned, well many it is so much fun painting the two I've done so far. Last night pairing dark blues and red flashed through my mind. This morning I couldn't wait to get to work on them. And then ha ha... they all fell flat... nothing is working. It seems to be a wasted work day. Which leads the question I think all artist despise the most. "How long did it take you to paint that?"
It is ask as if. Well if it took you 12 weeks at 40 hours a week that painting must be good and expensive all wrapped up in the same bundle. If it took you 2 hours then "Can you sell it to me for... 40% less than your asking price then... it only took you 2 hours" And if it only took you 2 hours you don't have that much invested in it and it can't be that good. Nothing can be more insulting than asking how long a painting took to paint. Does it matter, If I can look art a painting and say it's done if I can have the patience to walk away from it and take the time to study it, and realize its done. just as it is, anymore would suffocate it any less it wouldn't breath.
My offerings today are the same piece in different stages. I hope I can fix this one, it looked so nice in my head- not so good on the canvas. UHG.