Posted in Artish, Guest Thoughts, The Now

John B Poem

The very last bit of S-Town, an unflinching, brutally straightforward, deeply empathetic and yeah, pretty sad podcast about the enigmatic and beautiful genius John B McLemore, is a chunk of McLemore’s writings delivered by the interviewer and host Brian Reed.

If you make it to the end of this series without shedding a tear, then maybe you’re made of clockwork. When Reed read this sort of epilogue, sort of self-eulogy-ish bit of John B’s writing, I stopped what I was doing, choked up, listened to it over and over, marveled at it, then transcribed it as best I could. It sent me down a lot of Wikipedia pages looking for the references and spellings. Forgive the errors and please offer corrections. With deep respect and admiration:

 

I have coaxed many infirm clocks back to mellifluous life

Studied Projective geometry and built astrolabes, sundials

Taught myself nineteenth century electroplating, bronzing, patination, micro-machining, horology, learned piano

Read Poe, De Muapassant, Picaccio [?], O’Connor, Witte, Hugo, Balzac, Kafka, Bataille, Gibran

As well as modern works by Mortimer, Hawking, Kunstler, Klein, Jacoby, Heinberg, Hedges, Hitchens and Rhodes

But the best times of my life I realize were the times I spent in the forest and field

I’ve walked in solitude beside my own babbling creek and wondered at the undulations, meanderings and tiny atolls that were occasionally swept into its midst

I’ve spent time in idle palaver with Violets, Lyreleaf Sage, Heliopsis and Monkshood and marveled at the mystery of Monotropa uniflora

I have audited the discourse of the Hickories Oaks and Pines even when no wind was present

I have peregrinated the woods in winter under the watchful guard of vigilant dogs and spent hours entranced by the exquisiteness and delicacy of tiny mosses and molds – entire forests within a few square inches

I’ve also run thrashing and flailing from Yellow Jackets

Before I could commence this discourse I spent a few hours out under the night sky reacquainting myself with the constellations, like old friends

Sometimes I just spend hours playing my records

Sometimes I took my record players and CD players apart just to peek inside and admire the engineering of their incongruous entrails

Sometimes I watch Laverne & Shirley or old movies or Star Trek

Sometimes I sat in the dark and listened to the creaking of the old house

I have lived on this blue orb now for about 17,600 days and when I look around me and see the leaden dispiritedness that envelops so many persons both young and old, I know that if I die tonight, my life has been inestimably better than that of most of my compatriots

Additionally, my absence makes room and leaves resources for others who deserve no less than I have enjoyed

I would hope that all persons reading this can enjoy some of the aspects of life that I have enjoyed as well as those aspects that I never will and will take cognizance of the number of waking days he has remaining and use the prudently

To all that have given so much, much love and respect

  • John B McLemore

s-town_social

Posted in Projects, The Now

The Boring Kitchen, Pt. 2

Gentle Reader,

A few of you actually looked through “The Boring Kitchen Pt. 1” so for those brave capybaras, I present you with the second thrilling installment. When we last left off, our Brave Hero had decided to undertake the demolition of a hundred-year-old kitchen single-handedly and without proper training or equipment.

This process was to include (1) chipping ceramic tiles off of three walls, (2) ripping out top and bottom cabinets and (3) ripping up the floor tiles. When I told my Australian contractor friend Kris I was doing the demo myself, he said “Who’s gonna do the rest of it?” The rest of it? What rest of it? I was like, “…Me. I’m doing it.” He just looked at me in a sort of Australian contractor way and said “Oh. OK. Good luck with that!”

OH. THE REST OF IT.

CERAMIC TILE REMOVAL PT. 1: In which large chunks of 100-year-old plaster come crashing off the 100-year-old lath and plaster walls as you gently chip away at the edges of each tile, then give up and start banging on them with a chisel and hammer.

CERAMIC TILE REMOVAL PT. 2: In which ever-larger chunks of 100-year-old plaster come crashing down and then you put up some rosin paper so your wife doesn’t freak out on you.

UPPER CABINET REMOVAL: Not terribly difficult so long as you decide it’s OK to make a mess. At least three layers of different kitchens are revealed! Take note of the bare lath showing through and the first layer of Plaster-Weld making it look like the holes are bleeding. Take note of the weird mouse-hole above the window, which goes all the way to the outside, and if you look close you can see it was a electrical line going up the ceiling at some point. Also note electrical burn marks (!!)

LOWER CABINET REMOVAL, PATCHING IT UP, and LIVE ELECTRIC WIRES: See my first attempts at patching large holes with patching plaster! It’s expensive and goes fast! (You can use joint compound for large holes and it’s cheaper I found out).

Removing the left and right cabinets revealed that whoever built these damn monsters didn’t “chase” the electrical lines (put them in the walls properly), but instead sort of draped them through the inside of the cabinets and tacked them in. If we had just brutally ripped out the cabinets we would have also brutally ripped out half the electrical lines. That would have been bad.

But look at that cool old black and white-ish original floor tile! Bonkers! And the giant hole it looks like somebody blew open with a quarter stick of dynamite to get those old galvanized pipes through! Sweet!

More to come. I’m tired just looking at these pictures again, and the fun was only just starting.

Cheers!

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Posted in Catching Up, Projects, The Now

List of Lists

I admit it, the lists have caught up with me. I’ve been doing things.

Let’s purge the backup then, Gentle Reader, and get it all out on the table:

the-lists

  • Frame shelter pics
  • Frame dog art:

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  • Catch up on Baskets
  • “When the Roses Bloom Again”
  • “Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassas”
  • Jarmusch (check – went to see Paterson) (transcendent)
  • Cat Power, “Living Proof”
  • Birchbox (renew subscription)
  • Framing Hammer (for doing kitchen demo)
  • Cooking Class (for cooking)
  • Things That Don’t Do Anything (list of obsolete internet things)
  • Top Ebay (a “side hustle” idea) (see also Side Hustle)
  • Migraines (blog about this?)
  • Prints online (Artsy) / Dog Prints
  • Resize (rings after broken finger)
  • Crescent Lake / RV (road trip)
  • Jackalope Art / New Galleries

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hilarous-world-depression_tile2

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Posted in The Now

In Space, No One Can Hear You Eat Pasta

In “Seventh Episode” of “The Young Pope,” Voiello says mournfully,

It’s now harder to become a priest than it is to become an astronaut.

To which I say (reacting from the gut) “Well, shouldn’t it be?”

youngpope-3-voiello-deer

Say you’re ‘called’ to be an Astronaut. What does this require? Years of study, dedication to a range of higher sciences, physical acumen, a certain moral and ethical standard, and a dedication of your life to a certain cause, beyond the measure of mere service or career. It’s within reach, certainly, if you really really want it. And if you become an astronaut, what’s the worst you can do to harm another person? Crash the space shuttle?

Say you’re ‘called’ to be a priest. What does this require? Years of study, dedication to a range of arcane texts and protocols, spiritual acumen, a certain moral and ethical standard,  and a dedication of your life to a certain cause, beyond the measure of mere service or career. This, too, is certainly within reach, if you really, really want it. And if you become a priest, what’s the worst you can do to harm another person?

And here’s where things diverge. The answer to that question, for a priest, is immeasurable – profound. It’s on the nub of this question where the church hangs its’ pointy red hat. It’s where old testament and new testament cross bloody paths. It’s where everything is at stake, since as a priest, you voluntarily assume responsibility for the ‘salvation’ of other human beings, if you truly believe in such a thing. And if you do not, if you do not believe in an end to suffering as a means to enlightenment, then you probably should find another calling. Maybe be an astronaut, say.

shandling-quote

As a corollary, if you haven’t already watched Horace and Pete, please put that on your to-do list. I’d sit here and write a thousand words about how these two ideas share blood, but it’s better if you just go see for yourself.

“But could you just let me have this right now? Just a little peace?”

horace-pete


And finally, why is the main priest in Young Pope named after pasta?

voiello-pasta

 

Posted in The Now

DEPARTURE FROM MY USUAL POSTS–but necessary!

Re-posting in support of a fellow blogger and fellow artist. Let’s see if WP closes my comments section as well…

Mary Maupin

If you need to unfollow me because of this post, so be it.  This will be the only non-art entry I will post on my blog, and I’m doing so because I simply cannot sit by quietly and let whatever happens happen.  You shouldn’t either.  Add: for some reason, WordPress has closed comments on this post.  Feel free to repost this post!

Click on link below for full article.

Charles Blow of the New York Times reminds his readers that the election of Donald Trump is far from normal.      The durability of our democracy is not destined. It is not impervious to …

Source: Charles Blow: The Catastrophe that is Donald Trump

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