Tuesday (ⁱ/ˈtjuːzdeɪ/ or /ˈtjuːzdi/ or /ˈtuːzdeɪ/) is a day of the week occurring after Monday and before Wednesday. According to international standard ISO 8601, it is the second day of the week, although in some traditions it is the third.

“Tuesdays are only one of the types of days there are

You may also encounter during your life-time plenty of other types

So if any particular Tuesday causes or seems to bring undue grief or dis-stress, take heart:

for a Tuesday can be and usually is the harbinger of one or other of those other types of days for which you yearn for-getting the fact that on any particular Tuesday you are in fact and irreversibly moving directly in line to-ward such a future of other types of days that, should you obtain to the faintest inkling of, you would have to in a moment of joyous fright faint immediately at the expansive and illuminating opening surely coming to-ward you via this very specific and particular Tuesday in which you feel so mistakenly unfortunate to currently occur.

This I’ll warrant you from the depths of my soul, which, as you know is in fact and in matter immeasurably and irreconcilably deep.

Yours, truly (for whose else would I be?)

Auntie Scoot”

Lopsided Notion

Even a lack of evidence of some kind of notion of “perfection” is it’s own beauty.

I have a dear friend who has been a fine artist for more than 60 years. Spending time with him I realized that the term “self-expression” is redundant: there’s no self with out expression and there’s no expression without self.

It’s ALL art – every way you move, every thing you say, the way your foot goes out and touches the ground when you walk, the way one looks when they are just waiting in line … even the way you resist or ignore or make mis-takes in life – they are all still made. It’s all a creation, intentioned or not …

And I guess what I’m learning these days is about being willing to be the creator of a life, this life … looking at and seeing what’s happening, now I think : do i like that over here … or over there … or maybe not at all?

Choosing and consciously creating … and loving and welcoming it all, even the lop-sided ones. Then continuing to create … tuning, trying, practice and patience … till soon … who knows?

Intensely Exclusive

If I remember rightly, this drawing came up at the end of an experiment in which I recently participated – an investigation into group learning using WoW as the platform.

I don’t know if others consider that they have a relationship with their computers or what types of relationships those may be, but I found that, although we were focused on the interactions among  humans, my relationship to and with the “machine” (meaning both the computer and the software/environment) was almost as interesting.

One surprising insight early on was that by operating in the game environment, I realized how much (in the Game of Life) I rely on cues and awareness, access for which hadn’t yet been replicated in game – or maybe access to that awareness is just not yet evident to the novice/apprentice level player.

Although I could orient the visual field of the avatar through a much wider range than my body’s physical point of view, looking out from my eyes in the front of my head, that expanded range in game didn’t provide the particular kind of awareness I found I use constantly and transparently in meatspace. The experience was a bit like missing my back.

When I mentioned this to a couple of the WoW game masters on the team, they (both male) were surprised and intrigued not having noticed that for themselves. So maybe it’s a gal thing – I don’t know.

In game, what you have to work with is your avatar, and your control is via the display, keyboard, mouse & headset. In the Game of Life, what you have to work with is your self and your control is … well, that’s the question, isn’t it … mind+body? soma? structures of communication? ???

So it became an investigation of the relationship of one’s self to one’s apparatus, as it were – one’s extensions into life — a very intense, direct and exclusive kind of relationship, you see?

Here Now

There comes a time when you realize that the only place you can make a difference is here and the only time you really have to work with is now … that the shortest distance between whatever past you’ve come from and any future you might choose is now … the point of all possibility.

And then you realize that soon after that, another “now” will be up for grabs very soon. Or your realize that if this “now” is working but this “here” ain’t cutting it, there are other “here”s to choose from and some very nearby.

And this is the start of curiosity.

And then you try: you say something … and it blows away in the wind. But you didn’t die, and you learned about the now and how it goes.

And this is the start of boldness, and you soon say: “Here, Now” and you mean it … with your added passion, both here and now become enlivened and begin to move in your appointed direction.

And this starts something all together else …

Go Bow

This drawing started from the top: the figure started coming and I first noticed the hairbow. It wasn’t till it was done and I looked again that I saw the bow over her shoulder.

So this is about getting your equipment and having the strength to use it. Pulling a bow and holding it steady is actually quite a challenge. My uncle taught me in Golden Gate Park somewhere when I was a kid, maybe only 10 or 11 years old. Sometimes you keep the equipment over your shoulder, and sometimes it’s on your head and only looks like decoration – but adds something to your strength whether you or anyone knows it or not.

One Eye Open

Being a meditator, we hear a lot about the “Third Eye”. You need two eyes to see in the world, but to get at a true kind of knowing, one is usually better.

Sometimes that’s all you need: an inner knowing, a spiritual summons, and that’s a different kind of seeing.

In the drawings I’ve noticed that the eye is usually what makes the piece be something in particular. Until the eye is placed, it could be anything. Frequently, the eye is the last touch.

Color Complex

So far, I’ve not been posting any of the backstory on these drawings so I’ve decided to start including such — maybe this is a bit of coming out of the closet as an artist.

Yesterday I spent the day with a bunch of artists visiting with Ruth Gendler at Kalliopeia Foundation’s lovely location in San Rafael.

This is the first time I ever went to an event as an artist. A bit shocking, I later realized.

[The Drawings started in Dec 2000, after I dropped in on a calligraphy class with Monica Dengo during a free weekend over at Fort Mason. More of that still unfolding story is here.]

So this piece showed up when we were in the last exercise of the workshop. We were exploring the themes of imagination and hands, and after awhile doodling along, I made the mistake of looking up from my work and noticed everyone else at the table was working in color.

For just a moment I had a “complex”. Then immediately looked back down, put pen to paper, and prayed urgently to have it be somehow magically dispelled. This drawing came to my rescue.

When I shared it with the group, there were sighs and chuckles of recognition from others, and Ruth said, “Sometimes it takes hours to make it that simple .. and you did so many!”

My dinner guest (a specialist in life cycle analysis and matrix math and an as-yet-in-the-closet painter) requested a copy too. So I framed it for him as he’s off to the airport this morning, and now I’m posting it in case there’s anyone else out there who is in danger of keeping a color complex.

“Take out the poetry!” it said in big bold letters.
They must’ve been thinking something grand and appropriate to the audience.
So I left, of course.

They say, “when you are not there, something’s missing.”
Yes, some thing, I suppose.
Some “thing“, I guess not so grand nor appropriate to the audience.

But necessary in a long run if you want to get anywhere
or just run
To run

Poetry is after all a necessary luxury,
is it not?
After all?

He moved, the boat tipped and I simply slid under
Surprised just a bit
Then started the journey, steady
My work, using muscles
The body in 3D
In a vast murky watery land
Without external orientation
Deep blue
Moving
With highlights internal
Murky sparkles
A bit thick
A new realm
But I am breathing underwater
Isn’t that odd?