Dr. Rex and Jill Dennison Spice Their Blogs….

with  happy music or photos or cartoons or jokes, sprinkled in between the gloom and doom overtaking us.  I wish I could, I wish I would, I think I can…splat!

WOOLGATHERING

I’d like to get some drawings on here. It’s difficult because I shake from essential tremor, not parkinson’s.  I tried the pencil modem and an app on my tablet but I couldn’t get it right. Now I’m gonna try scanning a drawing and trying to get that on–(my doctor prescribes music but that part of my brain is filled with something else) :

But I do collage when I get too antsy. Other people’s art and photos from magazines, so kind of illicit (illegal?).

 

This is part of a collage I was going to have for my book Fallout, but I decided it would be too much trouble to run all the sources down.

Well, I see a problem here. This material isn’t jokey or sweet music….Sigh.

One day I won’t wake up

or hear the birds

or feel the sun…

The Caution Against Living in the Past:

Hope, trust, wonder, snuggling…It’s okay to live in the past if the past harbors…In my earlier verse I failed  to tell you what I really meant. Feelings, like tubes of  dry paint…They say don’t live in the past, but that’s only if you have a future. No one dare take the farm from my memory’s treasured vault with my grandmother, on her lap and the reassuring sound at night of  coal settling in the grate.

Gather, Ye Children, and You Shall Hear:  We are like frogs, being limited in what we see. The world is only what our perception allows us.

Three separate tributaries feed into the unconscious we can never know. Repression is not one of them, nor denial.

The first is prenatal and natal memories. The second is the adaptive unconscious which can never be directly accessed, though it can effect motivation and orchestrate behavior. The third is via subliminal perception.  I wonder who is overseeing the subliminal messages being sent out over the internet daily?  They aren’t illegal, but I wonder who they’re telling us to vote for?

 

What kind of flowers are these?

 

 

 

 

 

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
This entry was posted in A mixed bag. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Dr. Rex and Jill Dennison Spice Their Blogs….

  1. jilldennison says:

    Thanks for the mention! Your words had me feeling a bit sad, a bit melancholy, but then I came to your final picture, with the cop and his rifle … and I nearly choked on my laughter! Hugs, my friend!

    Like

Please share your own experiences here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.