Andrew Wyeth...

I was browsing some art sites that sell stuff from my favorite artist, Andrew Wyeth.  He's fabulous.  My grandmother bought me a print of his master's bed.  It was expensive but not as expensive as one of the limited addition print I want... $15,000.  For a PRINT.  This is not an original.  I was like wow.  And here I thought almost $300 was steep for the print I'll be getting soon.  The cheapest one I found that I liked was $5000.  Oh, but those were hand signed by him as well.  I would kill, literally kill, for an original Andrew Wyeth piece.  There's a private collector that's thinking about splitting up some of his collection but they're nothing that I'm interested, nor could I afford.  It's funny, when I was a kid, I thought people were insane to go nutty and spend millions on original paintings.  Now I realize it's like owning a piece of history.  A piece of history you can see, touch and smell.  If only I could win the damn lottery.    Too bad we don't buy tickets. 

 

This is the front of his autobiography, and the picture is the night sleeper, the print I would like to someday own.

Tags: Andrew Wyeth, expensive art, history

A little more

I find it slightly ironic, if not upsetting that we (humans in general) can discover a fish that is said to be up to 157 years old and instead of preserving the creature and respecting her right to live on, we kill her and disect her body to learn more about her.  (I say her because she was full of embryos when they cut her open) I have so much respect for anything in the wild that manages to survive to an average lifespan, let alone something that far outlives most humans and then to kill that animal?  I just don't understand that.  Why not let her live out her life in an aquarium where she is safe and then we she dies you can take apart her insides.  Or the colossal squid that was said to be one of the biggest ever caught.  What'd we do to that poor animal?  Killed it and then took pictures of our "find."  I think we need science and all that it brings us but I also think that we should respect the earth and the beings that were here before humans ever entered the picture.  We ravage the earth with our roads, cars, and technology.  What are we giving back?  We take take take and no one seems to think twice about it.  I'll admit, I drive more than I should just because I get sick of sitting at home but I also recycle every damn thing that comes through my house.  If it CAN be recycled, then it is.  This summer I will start a compost in my backyard just so that's one less thing that goes into the garbage.  People throw their crap out the windows of their cars just because they can't seem to wait till they get home to put it in their garbage can.  They don't think, well now I wonder what happens to that and who ends up cleaning it up after I carelessly toss it out into the world.  Why can't we all do a little more?

Tags: 157 year old fish, colossal squid, earth, recycle

Losing it

Last night, after getting out of the shower, I went to clean my ears and suddenly couldn't hear well out of the left one.  Since then it has gotten steadily worse.  If I wake up in the morning with no hearing, I will be calling the doctor.  Actually, if I have ANY symptoms at all, I will be calling the doctor.  I wasn't concerned initially but then I started doing a web search and found that it could be very serious and I may never fully recover my hearing.  After reading that, I broke down crying.  I have always valued my eye sight (what I have) and my hearing.  I could never choose whether I would rather be death or blind.  You want to be able to watch your children grow up but you also want to be able to hear their voice.  I wish I had just went to medpoint to begin with but I didn't want to seem like a hypercondriac.  How stupid will I feel if this is something that could have been helped if I had just went to a doctor immediately?  Something I think is good, is that it was getting better for a while if I pulled on my earlobe.  It seemed to be a wax thing so I had Shawn go to CVS and buy me some ear drops.  After using them, I feel worse.  The ringing in my ears is deafening in and of itself.  This is going to be a really long night.  I just want to wake up and have this all be over with.

What?!

How could I have not been told there was an aquarium in Chicago?  Let alone one of the largest indoor aquariums in the world?!  How many times have I talked about going to an aquarium?  Talked about going to Detroit to see their aquarium?  Ugh.  How could no one have told me?  In my mind, the trip is already set and I'm already going.  THIS YEAR.  Honey, you're going to have to hear about this one for a long time coming.  He knew all along.  I think he omitted it on purpose.  I don't know why.  He could've gotten out of going to the zoo up there.  He could've been indoors with a/c, instead of outside in the hot, humid July air.  UGH! 

Tags: Chicago, Aquariums

School's Out

I guess I've been a little stressed lately.  You'd think I would post more but instead I've become a blog recluse of sorts.  Little things stress me out that I really shouldn't care about.   People talking bad about me when they don't even know me.  And then other people who DO know me, starting it.  I shouldn't care.  I should ignore it and let it go and move on.  I hate ending relationships without closure, even friendships.  Hell, especially friendships.  See, I don't share much of myself with people.  I mean, I'll tell you my whole life story from beginning to end if you ask.  I don't lie about anything I've done or try to make things sound better than they really were.  (or worse in some people's cases) But when it comes to sharing my actual feelings about places, people and events, I usually remain vague and distant.  I like to keep my feelings to myself so when I share them with someone, it means I trust them a great deal.  Or I was drunk and had a moment of weakness, wanting to connect with someone.  And when that trust is broken or discarded without a second thought, it hurts.  It's probably why I have such a problem trusting people with my inner most thoughts and feelings.  I try and be up front and honest with people.  I try to be adult if you will.  And I expect the same from my friends, no matter what their age.  While I may give a little more leeway to a 14 year old, being as they haven't had much time to grow and mature, but I expect the same from someone in their 20's as I give.  I'm just so fed up with people around my age saying they're so mature and make such good friends and then they turn around and prove to still have the mentality of a high school kid.  If you want to play with the big kids, act like one.  And it really bothers me when someone doesn't know me and make assumptions based on what someone else has told them.  If I have a problem with someone, I don't go rolling my eyes everytime I see them, I confront them and work on things verbally, like an adult.  I don't spread lies and rumors to anyone willing to listen.  Sometimes I just have to wonder if anyone ever actually grows up.  Am I the only mature person my age? 

Tags: stress, immaturity

A mother's pain

I don't know this mother or her child.  I don't even know someone that knows them.  But I stumbled across their story on another website called inked nation (for us weirdo tattoo'd and pierced people).  It breaks my heart to read the mother's journal entries as she deals with the life threatening, rare cancer that ravages her body.   

 

http://www.care4jessicarose.org/index.htm

I have hours only lonely

I feel like a heroin addict in need of a fix.  My hands are shaky.  Sweat sticks to my skin.  I feel nauseous.  I take a steaming shower to try and burn away some of the withdrawal symptoms.  I finally, painfully, give in to the need.  The little pink pill that beckons my name.  The little pill that won't let me go.  Again and again it pulls me back into it's web, like a fly who has struggled against it's stickiness for hours and finally feels his wings pull free, he's snatched back by a brisk wind only to be stuck worse than he was before.  My words are like venom.  Quick and painful.  Against my will their fangs land on the nearest victim.  This sickness in me, this cancer that no chemo can cure.  No drug strong enough to rid it of my body. 

 

My pill is not that of an illegal substance.  It's prescribed to me, as it has been for years.  Paxil holds me hostage.  I'm as close to normal as I will ever be when I'm on it.  Once again, I have tried and failed to switch to another anti-depressant.  Once again I have been a disappointment.  It's a good thing I never did any hard drugs, there's no way I could've ever pulled free from them.  I can't handle the shaking, sweating and mood swings.  I don't like my quick temper when I'm not on it, my willingness to hurt those I love without a backward glance.  All I ask is to be like you.  Normal without the need of a pill to make me that way.  Do I even know what normal is?  Is this how normal people feel?  Normal "happy" people.  Do happy people sabotage themselves over and over again?  Do they despise themselves sometimes?  Are they lonely when surrounded by a crowd?  I have no idea what normal is.  I have no idea what it feels like to be happy without pills.  To hell with people like Tom Cruise who think a cure for depression is as easy as a jog and a few sit ups.  Those people know nothing of the emptiness of real depression.  It's lonely, endless and hopeless.