“A husband and father, as he did every morning, kissing his wife and daughter before driving to Rescue 1’s firehouse on West 53rd Street in Manhattan. And his unusual decision to stop as he walked to his van on Sept. 11, 2001, and return to kiss them one more time.”
“I’m saying to myself, he survived. He was a Marine, he was a Boy Scout (and) he was a rescue guy,” Tillie Geidel said. “If anybody could survive, he could survive.”
– Leonard Sparks for the Times Herald-Record, September 11, 2016
portrait of Gary Geidel, Rescue 1 – painted this for his mom in 2001
Sometimes you just have to digress from yourself when getting too serious about “shit.” Today, I had a flash piece nearly written and planned on “tapping” the pub button later. This morning, a friend’s “quickie” email changed my direction. Over the last few months, I’ve been focusing on a hopeful self-publishing project, worrying about people in my life (many Italian, some elderly, but you won’t get me to say that) and getting a first born off to college.
In this catalyst email, my friend, a few years older and oh, so much wiser asked if I’d intended a “double-entendre” in my blog’s revised subhead: anntogether mashing art, writing and head. In my own “head,” it presented a humorous image. My skull smashing the wall when I–as so many of us do–am at a loss for an idea, completion of a thought or self-approval of a sketch. However, in my friend’s insightful message she mused the word “head” can mean so much more.
And you know, I’d forgotten. A plethora of lovely terms (thank God for the Urban Dictionary…) have additional meanings when painted with fodder color. “Head” is one of these words that had slipped off my risqué “radar.” I’m not sure when this happened as I often attempt to be so damn clever. Experimentally, I bounced my use of the word “head” off my fifteen-year-old son. Upon hearing the subhead, he excitedly exclaimed in his big-bicep teen voice, “Mom, are you kidding? Change that right now!” Here I thought I was becoming a sophisticated writer in my use of spicy language and suggestive scenarios.
In closing: Odysseus would have been in serious trouble if I had been his mom. You are only as clever as you think your are. There should be listening devices planted in high schools. Employ at least one smart friend on your payroll. Laughing “hard” at yourself is “good medicine.” I am a “fucking” idiot sometimes. I laughed very “hard” this morning and “it felt really good.”
“I think women and seamen don’t mix.”–Marge Simpson as she was about to board a ship to Skull Island
I was thinking a baby mask hanging over fire might work here:)-created last year using pencil, marker and “head”;)-thank you for indulging me
I believe in quiet miracles of love
selflessness of the human heart
the breadth of compassion
the faith of Heaven above
tucked in floating clouds
and the people below
colors of rainbows
both on this side
and the other
across the land
To those who celebrate, Happy Easter
To those who don’t, have a lovely weekend
art titled, “Friends” – created at nine years of age, when I had much shorter hair and much longer sleeps 😉
Galeen likes sticking her hands where they don’t belong (this might be cause for concern as she ages up). But she is a smart, little girl, and for now her brain is in control of her hands.
Galeen reads a wall-hanging filled with quotes and hugs her cherished, stuffed Einstein doll, whenever she needs to turn her grey matter, red-hot.
If at first, the idea is not absurd, then there is no hope for it.
We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.
The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.
Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.
The important thing is to not stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing.
The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education.
Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.
I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.
Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new.
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.
Thank you. May the creative force be with you in your waking hours. May the creative force keep you entranced in your nightly dreams.
Blogtox tomorrow. If all goes well and the blog gods are with me, I should be back to WordPress this weekend, maybeeeeeeeeeeeee…