Quick, before those crazed geniuses over at GM HQ (or rather, over at their savvy marketing division) notice their very adorably dumb mistake and start taking these ads down, hustle on over to this Chevy website, the one apparently set up for users to make their own customized commercial for the inane and butt bloating enormo-cruiser the Chevy Tahoe, and check out a few of the, shall we say, more creative entries.
OK, so I’m trying to focus on art journaling this year, and yet – I really haven’t been doing much of it, although I’ve been reading about it and doing artist’s way and the concept is at least beginning to sink into my head. It seems easy enough, to look at say, Danny Gregory’s EveryDay Matters and see what art journaling can do to improve someone ‘s life and attitude, or this wonderful post today from la vie en rose on how art journaling can help you feel better about yourself:
I never thought an art journal could teach me about self-compassion. Lessons often come from the most unlikely of sources. Creating this week in my art journal has been an opportunity to release the perfection and accept the little mistakes. Yesterday I journaled with a pen I ended up not liking. Today I smudged my writing because I failed to let it dry before reaching across the page. Poor color choices. Bad paper choices. A million ways to screw it up and then let it go. All the little mistakes have become an opportunity to let it be, a chance to allow the imperfection on the page symbolize the beautiful imperfection of real life. So tonight, with white paint in my hair and the majority of my writing transposed on my forearm, I choose to let the little mistakes have their own beauty. I choose to remind myself of all that is good and perfect about the pages, and the life, I’m creating. I choose to stand back, admire, and learn. I choose to remember why my voice, my experience, and my creating is important. I choose to offer myself the redemptive power of compassion.
I have the wonderful art journals, the fountain pen I love, all the art tools, if not the space I would like to have to create in, and I’ve been working on getting this for three months now. And yet… somehow, I don’t give myself the permission to just create, to not care what my husband or kids or anyone else thinks of the art supplies and materials all over the place in my little house, to not care that other people’s work is so much further along than mine, it seems, that other people get a gazillion comments on their blogs, that other people have dozens of artsy friends to “do art” with and I’ve got nobody to share that with “In Real Life” as my kids would say, outside of this wonderful online community I’ve found.
And still… this process of art journaling calls to me, it speaks to me, the way the Tao did as I read through so many books and interpretations and whatever I could find on it until I finally “got it” and found – “before enlightenment, sweep floors, do laundry, after enlightenment, sweep floors, do laundry.” Life didn’t change, but I did, and my responses to my lfie changed. Is this the same way, will I “get it” finally, and just do it and incorporate it into my life, and let it change me as well?
The engineer in me, this process analyst, looks at art journaling and says, “this is a good process. It works. It’s valid.” And I know that it does work, for so many people. I know this is a life-changing process that helps.
But what struck me yesterday as I was reading Danny Gregory’s book and his comments about learning to draw was him describing when he “got it” – when his drawing became about how he was seeing and not how he was drawing, and I realized, yes, this was the same feeling I had about the Tao when I got it. What changes is how you see the world. And what I am thinknig now is that art is just in everything around you, the dog sleeping on the floor, the pile of papers sitting in front of you, the shoes at your feet, the people around you – all of it, every bit of it. And if you can capture that, somehow, anyhow, and hold it for just that moment, even if just in your mind – that’s your art. There it is. The process of transfering that to what other people can understand when they see it or hear it or whatever, that is the genius part of it. But those are tools to be learned. What matters is what you see in that moment, what you feel. And capturing that is where the art is.
“To view the world outside of yourself while simultaneously living your life is the real art experience. ” — Jim Forsythe
“It’s inaccurate and deceptive of him to say there was no vulgarity in the moment,” said Peter Smith, the Boston University assistant photojournalism professor who made the shot.
Despite Scalia’s insistence that the Sicilian gesture was not offensive and had been incorrectly characterized by the Herald as obscene, the photographer said the newspaper “got the story right.”
Smith said the jurist “immediately knew he’d made a mistake, and said, ‘You’re not going to print that, are you?’ ”
Scalia’s office yesterday referred questions regarding the flap to Supreme Court spokeswoman Kathy Arberg, who said a letter Scalia sent Tuesday to the Herald defending his gesture at the cathedral “speaks for itself.”
“He has no further comment,” Arberg said.
Smith was working as a freelance photographer for the Boston archdiocese’s weekly newspaper at a special Mass for lawyers Sunday when a Herald reporter asked the justice how he responds to critics who might question his impartiality as a judge given his public worship.
“The judge paused for a second, then looked directly into my lens and said, ‘To my critics, I say, ‘Vaffanculo,’ ” punctuating the comment by flicking his right hand out from under his chin, Smith said.
The Italian phrase means “(expletive) you.”
Scalia update update:
So now, the photographer has been fired.
A freelance photographer has been fired by the Archdiocese of Boston’s newspaper for releasing a picture of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia making a controversial gesture in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross on Sunday.
Peter Smith, who had freelanced for The Pilot newspaper for a decade, lost the job yesterday after the Herald ran his photo on its front page. Smith said he has no regrets about releasing it.
“I did the right thing. I did the ethical thing,” said Smith, 51, an assistant photojournalism professor at Boston University.
Just so typical – blame the messenger. I’m so sick of these jerks who can do anything – make obscene guestures to the American people, break laws and spy on the American people since the laws don’t apply to the President of course, whatever – and those who report on it take the blame.
Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
An’ if I stay it will be double
So come on and let me know
– The Clash
Do not assume that you know all.
Notice nature and abide in the infinite.
Travel openly on uncharted paths.
Be all that you are, but do not make a show of it.
Be contented and remain empty,
and learn to sustain the Beginner’s Mind.
Tens of thousands of students walked out of school in California and other states Monday, waving flags and chanting slogans in a second week of protests against legislation to crack down on illegal immigrants.
BOSTON, March 27 (UPI) — U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia startled reporters in Boston just minutes after attending a mass, by flipping a middle finger to his critics.
A Boston Herald reporter asked the 70-year-old conservative Roman Catholic if he faces much questioning over impartiality when it comes to issues separating church and state.
“You know what I say to those people?” Scalia replied, making the obscene gesture and explaining “That’s Sicilian.”
The 20-year veteran of the high court was caught making the gesture by a photographer with The Pilot, the Archdiocese of Boston’s newspaper.
“Don’t publish that,” Scalia told the photographer, the Herald said.
He was attending a special mass for lawyers and politicians at Cathedral of the Holy Cross, and afterward was the keynote speaker at the Catholic Lawyers’ Guild luncheon.
Yup. Pretty much sums up what Scalia, the Bush administration, and the right-wingers think of most of America, doesn’t it?
Had to add this quote from the comments over at Water tiger’s place:
As my father used to point out when notable Sicilians behaved badly, “That’s why God put the Sicilians on an island under the boot–away from the rest of Italy.” — Ruthie
Thanks for the laugh, Ruthie!
My sweet husband sent me flowers today! And he’s coming home tonight from San Jose.
Yeah, that pretty much makes up for yesterday.
Wonderful Cartoon Minimum Security by Stephanie McMillan
Because women can’t decide these things on our own, ya know!
Hurry, though, if you want to call – they’ll undoubtedly change the numbers soon!
Yeah, Im’ convinced after last night and today. Hell is a hospital. Went into the ER with high blood pressure and irregular heartbeat, found out my potassium was low, so they shouldn’ve filled me with potassium, changed my blood pressure prescription to eliminate the diuretic, and send me home, huh?
Oh, no . Gotta keep me overnight for observation. This morning it’s oh no, we gotta do a stress test. Then, it takes them three hours to find a doctor to get the results of the stress test and discharge me. And all the time, they treat you like a bunch of damn symptoms and ignore that you’re a person, then wonder why you get upset when you’re blood sugar level drops to zero and you haven’t slept all night.
But, I wasn’t upset for me. I was upset for the poor guy next door, throwing up with no damn nurse in there. I was upset for the guy on the other side who had a full catheter bag for hours and they finally had to call someone down from upstairs to change it because they didn’t know how. I was upset that they couldn’t find a doctor to order the tests they needed on the guy down the hall. I was upset because they all sat around watching the damn monitors and filling out charts and thinking they were taking care of the patients.
Nurses are supposed to take care of patients, not monitors, not charts.
I was upset for my mom, who had to put up with this kind of crap for 2 months in and out of the ICU, before finally dying from a hospital induced infection. No wonder my dad had a do not resuscitate order when he got cancer after having to be hopitalized for a month.
Medical care is this country is expensive because we’re treated like a bunch of symptoms instead of like people. All those tests, all that time, and all I really needed was a couple of frickin’ potassium pills. And I’m the lucky one.
So many are still there suffering with this crap.