Sidetracked Charley

Have a Seat A Facebook friend of long standing asked me today where was my outrage for the people of St. Petersburg on Monday. Monday? This week? Yes. I was running to Raton, racing the approaching spring storm in an effort to reclaim some of the normalcy of my life as an artist. I had four photographs to enter in an annual show. I wanted to support a non-profit gallery in a country which wants to unfund all art programs. I also desperately needed some windshield time (i.e. down time).  I am suffering from compassion fatigue: indifference to charitable appeals on behalf of those who are suffering, experienced as a result of the frequency or number of such appeals. Also called vicarious traumatization by the American Institute of Stress.   Yes, I am not in the counseling field but I am living in the dark days of the USA, and maybe the world at large. I confess to pulling in my empathy antenna just so I can continue to cope. Cope with my business, my resistance t...

Washing rugs Spring snows catch you unawares in the midst of activities undertaken to get a jump on summer. They come when you think winter was over, and you had packed away the snow boots and moved the winter coats to the upstairs closet. Stored the all weather Carharts. Gotten out the wheel barrow in preparation for some gardening. I confess this was not put away for winter The come gently unlike the storms of winter. They are silent with no howling winds. Wet so they melt quickly into the soil but before they go they balance flake upon flake upon every possible surface and create artistry. Lamp with Easter Bonnet Most winters we are tired of snows by April but this was not most winters. We had some snow early December but January, February and much of March were barren. We started dreading the tinder box of dry forests that surround us. So the wet Spring Snows have been welcome even with the puddles of mud to follow. Snow laden trees You can almost hear the...

Touch Me Not It's April. More than just taxes or the end of winter tourist season. April is not spring flowers if you live in the mountains. April is suppose to be beautiful but it is not. One day winter and the next spring. And winds through it all. No place you live can be paradise every day and if it were I am sure it would be boring. The New Mexico mountains suit me most times. I even enjoy winter mostly. And summer is never too hot. But I hate April and November. It is not just the weather or I would conspire like many of my friends to vanish during these two pivotal months. It is maybe that they vanish when so much needs to be done. Or that so much needs to be done I cannot vanish. Or maybe that I feel there should be nothing to do in April and November. Not the case. There is taxes. And rotation of art in various exhibits. Or getting another painting done for the next show. Or no money left after the taxes, getting prints for the last show, etc. Diets begin in Apr...