Ruminate

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Testing:

Just a few autumn leaves ATCs to see if can tolerate drawing. My wrist still hurts and it did not help that for the past several days I have been typing a lot in preparation for October 1st. It's a major date for us at work. It's the official start of the flu season. I will be working tonight.

I love this quote that came with an email from a friend:

Friendship isn't about who you have known the longest. ...but about who came and never left your side.

Isn't that the truth!

Fluff

I don't think I can say that I do not like my job, otherwise I

won't be on my twenty-third year at the company. I love my job. Sometimes I let it define who I am because I take pride in what I have done and what I do. However, it is a very stressful job.

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I left the emergency and trauma rooms because I thought I needed a break and The Viking and I wanted to have children. The stress was enormous that my body shut down. I thought I could not have children because I did not try to stop being a mother for seven years and whatever I did not do, it was successful. On the day I decided to transfer to information systems and work as a clinical analyst, something happened. I took a one week vacation and ten months later I was a mother.

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It's a different kind of stress. The kind that makes me peel off layers of clothes that I came in with in the morning, kick off my shoes, splash my face with cold water, plant my self in front of a full blast fan and drink tea one cup after another...

or sometimes, I just gaze at the photographs on my desk. This is my favorite of The Viking and me. Oftentimes I look at the pictures on my walls and I smile and smile. My office is filled with drawings, illustrations and prints of artwork created by my children when they were much younger and they color the bland and staid white walls. Then there's a wall dotted with my sisterfriend's work and it makes me smile even wider because they remind me of how I share my passion for drawing and painting with someone brilliant and wonderful and then I feel so young. I have no age. I am just me and my heart is light and the smile lifts the burden from my head and the pain from my wrists.

I look at the window and realize I was not the only one brooding...

The sky was in full sympathy with my being.

A perfect impersonation of how I was feeling.

But then as I gaze at it and look at it closely, I realize it's all...fluff! I pack up for home, my family is hungry and I need a break. I just had a swearing fit after I lost three hours worth of work when my software application froze. Someone heard me swear for the first time.

Actually it was not the first time. I do it all the time, I do it in such a subtle and quiet manner that it flies over everyone's heads like little omegas. I'll keep it that way. I reach home and the skies over my house are clear. I come in and get whacked by Daisy's tail. Life is good.

Do We Even Want To Touch This?

First Things First:

I offer postdiluvian thank you prayers for my family and friends in the Philippines! I am so thankful to hear from my beloved family. This is what makes the Internet useful. The flow of information is most welcome. They are all safe after the terrible Typhoon. I hope that those affected by the typhoon will recover soon and may the Philippine government do the right thing and help its people.

Secondly: Why I Believe In Conservative Values And Why I Am A Republican

Do we even want to tackle the above topic? I thought of a series that explains my experiences growing up under a dictatorship at a time when I was supposed to learn autonomy and independence and how I avoided being brainwashed and going through experiences here and abroad that define my core values and principles.

Thirdly:

Last night I told a friend I have achieved my blog goals. Will it be downhill from hereon? On the contrary, I have realized my needs that now I am free to blog as I please. If I have to blog with only a handful of blogger friends, the ones I have now, I will maintain what my friend calls "blog nirvana". Of course you know me by now. I love my friends and I am loyal as a dog, whether we are peas on a pod or vinegar and soy sauce (remind me tell you about a dish using vinegar and soy sauce). I don't agree with everyone most of the time, especially in an ocean of blue that is blogland, but I follow one premise when choosing friends and engaging in discussions, that when the time comes that I have to give up something important, forsake something I believe in or be influenced, I will not have a haunting feeling deep down in my gut that tells me I made a huge mistake; that I did it for something more noble and virtuous.

Be Safe

They make it look so ordinary but I know there is much suffering. I hope my family, friends and blog-friends in the Philippines are all safe. If the hospital where I trained for my post graduate clinical studies was flooded up to the third floor, that is a massive deluge. Please keep them in your prayers. It's different over there - most of the people are on their own. Their families are their own FEMA.

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Bagyo-Bagyo

The month of October is called "Bagyo-bagyo" in Ilonggo, it literally translates to "Typhoon-typhoon"

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For a while now, a television station in the Philippines wants to interview me. I don't do very well in interviews, unless it is a professional interview related to a professional subject matter. I tend to be facetious during personal interviews. Also the fact that the television station wants to interview me through one of those online video conferencing, I am a wary participant. However, they are nice people and so I decided to let Sade answer the interview questions:

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1. You are a wife, a mother, a nurse, a speech therapist, a blogger and a painter, how do you find time for all these activities? They are all different people. I was a speech therapist. I just recently realize that a lot of people think I am a professional illustrator or painter. I am not. I am a Sunday painter but with everything else I tend to overdo everything and bury myself in it so sometimes it appears that I just paint and draw all the time. I am a clinical analyst. I don't think of myself as an artist. I paint and draw but I don't think I am an artist. Does that disappoint you? Professionally I want to be remembered as a trauma nurse-turned clinical analyst. I was raised to treat art as an integral part of who I am. I was encouraged to choose something with aesthetic purpose and cultivate it as part of my existence. If I had enough self discipline I probably would have been a banjo player. If I did not paint, I'd probably be building models, scrap booking or doing calligraphy. Actually I used to do those. I have enough scrap booking supplies to last me for five years and I belonged to a scribe society when I was in my twenties.
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2. Did you have formal studies in arts? No. I probably would have hated sitting in the classroom, although I love art history but I cannot stand pretentious art critics and art-speak. To me art is magnificent, beautiful, adorable, cute or wonderful, therefore desirable or it is ugly, is trash, kitsch, and it sucks! How did you develop your talent? I discovered I can paint and draw after my first grade teacher poked me in my eye with a hairpin. I drew a stick figure of her with big fangs and ugly hair. I think there may also be some sort of divine intervention or struck-by-lightning episode, but I can't remember.

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3. What can you say is your favorite subject when you paint? Math? Symbolic logic? Actually, it's Feelings and Memories 101. Your style? CesSane?

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4. What is it you want to say with your paintings? Hmn, you need to ask the paintings, do they speak to you? If not, probably nothing then.

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5. How has staying abroad influenced your expressions/view of things? What?! I have been trying to hide that! I guess once a broad always a broad? How Filipino is your artwork? My paintings were painted by someone born in the Philippines? I don't know. I don't start painting and say today, I am going to paint Filipino or American or Texas. It is who I am. If they are reminiscent of Filipino life, it is perhaps because I lived it, and it is something worth celebrating with colors since I mostly let my feelings and memories guide me when painting or drawing. But you know, I am an American.

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6. Being away, it seems that you want to share your works with your kababayans here in the Philippines through your blog, is this so? I did not think of that but I love my heritage and I am very proud of it. I especially like the fact that I was born Ilonggo. Aren't they the sweetest, gentlest, most hospitable and sociable of all Filipinos? They are also humble, right? They don't get involved in too many fights, they just want to live peacefully and party. Right! Oh, they have the most gentle of all Filipino languages, it is spoken with melody and soft tone. There is not a swear word in Ilonggo, they are all borrowed form English, Spanish and Tagalog. I like that.

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7. How has blogging helped your artistic side? It is fun to meet other crazy people under the guise of art. They are all enablers to my vice of obsessive drawing and art supply obsessions.

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8. In your opinion, how important is blogging to an artist? Blogging does diddly squat to artistic talent but sycophants and obsequious visitors can give you false confidence so I try to avoid those. It's not just art. I have met my share of dysfunctional people in the blogs who need others to fawn at their insecurities. I just keep enough blog friends who can keep me straightforward and remain honest. I started blogging so I can talk about my dishes. I love dishes like plates and saucers, that is why my blog is called Ces And Her Dishes. After the first two posts, I got so bored with myself, who talks about dishes all the time? If I kept on doing that I may start talking to my plates and bowls. I already have an unhealthy need to match my coffee mug with my pajamas in the morning. I decided to treat dishes figuratively and I thought, you know I can really dish up something here, let me see if I can squiggle, squirt, or draw a straight line and the rest is history. I have been blogging for three years, now I just blog to give me a chance to write "Hhahahahahaha!" I hate "LOL" and :) even though I use :). Alas, you blog with humans and life spills into the blogs and you realize you care for your blog friends, you learn to love them, truly love them and they are a part of your life.

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9. Were you able to sell your paintings through the Internet? No, I gave most of them away. Do you want to buy some? That would be nice.

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10. Message to fellow blogger-artists? Spell-check!

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ADDENDUM:

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This was the last drawing before I went on a drawing sabbatical. It is a 14"x17" pen drawing of the American basswood grove. This is the second rendition of a similar image. This time I am drawing each leaf individually with a rib and vein. Click on the upper right image to see for yourself.

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It's a sober Sunday today when I know that my family in the Philippines is trying to recover from the typhoon that flooded Manila. I hope you are all safe, the damage may always be repaired but your health and safety are utmost.

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I changed the title of this post. The term Bagyo-bagyo literally means Typhoon-typhoon and in Hiligaynon is the name of the tenth calendar month (October). We're tired of it already. Let's rename it Esperanza (Hope, Mother's name).

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So I shall think of you when I draw today. I may even vacuum because I know how much you used to complain that my chores came only second to drawing when we were little girls.

Illustration Friday - Pattern

Ginkgo. Colored pencil on 11x14 Bristol Board

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PLANTAE

Nature provides the best source of patterns.
My favorite patterns of all - The Kingdom Plantae!
Next time,
Look very closely:
Leaves, flowers, fruits!
Tree, trunk, canopy, roots!
Monocot, dicot,
Short, stout, drooping,
Lobed, toothed, pointed, erect,
Striated, Ovoid, conical,
Shiny, dull, furrowed, broad,
Slender, scaly, elliptical, hairy,
Smooth, hairless, yellowish,
Slightly hairy, purplish,
Narrow, brittle,
Flattened, trembling, quaking,
I read a book about plants,
I am exhausted and breathless…
YEAH BABY!

Ah, the ginkgo, otherwise known as Ginkgo biloba, the only specie in its family worldwide. A deciduous tree with a pyramid crown becoming widespread and irregular with age; without flowers or fruits. See why I love it? It describes my body! The males of the specie have cones.

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It is a living fossil of an ancient and widespread family of conifers. It has been cultivated and believed to have been saved from extinction by Buddhist priests in the temple grounds of China, Japan and Korea.

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Female trees are objectionable because of the litter of seeds which reek like rancid butter and should not be touched because the smell lingers on contact - just like some women.

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Ginkgo is hardy and resistant to smoke, dust, wind, ice, insects, pests and disease. Guess who else loves ginkgo leaves?

I drew the ginkgo last night and this morning. This is my favorite time of the day - everyone is asleep and the light is concentrated only in certain areas. I have my coffee in a Sunflower Fiesta mug and I am surrounded by art supplies - heaven! Below is a view of my office. I am surrounded by my children's and best friend's artwork!

Liver And Onions

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Some people take everything so seriously, others just go with the flow. Some people take everything with a grain of salt and still others think every little thing is worth their attention.
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Sade notices the beautiful people.
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Living is the perfect example of multitasking. When you look at life, it’s not a linear process with one or two major events. It’s a series of multiple events happening at the same time like a wire on a giant cable. If you pick out a wire you will notice it is distinct and an entity all of its own. Yet is a part of the giant cable.
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So, a very attractive female visitor in the lobby is looking at Sade going through the revolving glass door. Sade is aware of the pair of eyes penetrating through the glass doors. The woman’s lips are turned into a half smile. One quick glance, Sade immediately notices a hundred features about the woman: she must be in her fifties; nice short hair, graying, beautiful nose, stiff upper lip, silk scarf, shirt, suit, earrings, purse, nails, pinstripes, lipstick, blush on, shoes, trouser socks. Shoes! The woman is wearing beautiful leather Italian loafers, and she has a company identification card.... She thinks to herself, this woman is intelligent, those eyes! She has intelligent eyes and wishes they were friends and they were going to give each other a hug in the lobby…She snaps out of her vision as fast as she thought of it. There was something familiar and comforting with the woman but she cannot point it. So Sade nonchalantly goes through the revolving door without ever looking at the woman but she changes her pace from harried to calm.
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When she finally emerges on the same side of the room, Sade gives the woman a quick nod and a smile, she senses that the woman wants to say something and instead the woman does this quick movement of her lips and shoulders as if to say something. Sade saves her from the awkward moment by flashing a smile, full smile and greets the woman a very cheerful good morning. The woman smiles back, she looked very delighted but was still unsure of what to say. Sade continues walking towards the elevators to go to her office but before she quickens her pace, she says to the woman: “I love your shoes! They look fabulous on you, you look very lovely. Have a wonderful day!” then she runs towards the open elevator. She glances at the woman whose gaze was glued to her all this time, smiling, just before the elevator closes. She grins. Bill, who is with Sade gets into the elevator with her and smiles. He says: “Did you know her?” “No, I was just saying hello.” Bill says, wow, I can’t do that. If I said that to a woman, she might think I am making a pass at her”. Sade turns to Bill and tells him, “So you are making a pass at me all the time then?”. Bill tells Sade it’s different because they know each other. “Hmn, same difference” Sade replies. “Giving compliments is an equal opportunity deal. I will compliment a man when I feel like doing it without expecting anything back.”
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The following week Sade attends a meeting. She and Troy are the last ones to arrive. They acknowledge everyone in the room. Their clients are sitting across the table. Sade smiles at them and notices something familiar with the female client, she recognizes her as the woman in the lobby. She is smiling and looks very friendly. Sade pushes her chair slightly away from the table and slightly slants her head to look underneath the table. Then she looked back at the client and tells her softly almost whispering “You are wearing my favorite shoes of yours!” They share a private laugh. Her name is Jennifer. During the meeting Sade and Jennifer keep glancing and smiling at each other taking caution not to make each other uncomfortable. After the meeting they linger in the conference room and talk about business and work as everyone else walks out of the room. Sade suddenly exclaims “Jennifer, the rape nurse! You were the SANE!” Jennifer is startled and gazes at Sade then says “Sade, oh my God, Mona!.” They worked together for six months twenty two years ago.
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They laugh loudly and hug each other. Jennifer remembers Sade’s husband and Sade recalls something then asks “Did you marry that intern?” and Jennifer replies “No, he turned out to be gay.” They giggle for a long time and then they go to lunch together. They talk about work, their dogs, Mama Mia, music, their children and husbands, they recall a physician named James Bond and a Dr. Pepper and how they paged him overhead “Paging Diet Dr. Pepper”, and the GI doctor named Dr. Potts and the urology intern named Dr. Wienner and the hot nurse who moved to L.A. and was on CNN coverage of the gay and lesbian rally and she had written on her face the words “second class citizen’, she looked so angry and miserable. Then they talk about the black nurse whose body was found floating in a Louisiana bayou. They are silent for a moment. Sade remains silent while Jennifer continues talking about the project they are working on together.
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Sade does not hear a word Jennifer says for her voice is now muffled. Sade finds herself in the front seat of a car in the evening after work, driving home with Sandy. She was a friend of Sade. Sandy pulled out a joint and lit it nonchalantly while her left hand steered. Sade had a conniption fit, throwing every curse word in her vocabulary and pleading with Sandy to stop smoking the blasted weed. Sade thought it was plain stupid and irresponsible to do so, especially while Sandy was still wearing her nursing scrubs. Sandy just laughed at her. Sade remembers looking at Sandy’s beautiful face, she looked like a model, well-chiseled features. She remembers the day she told her husband about Sandy’s death. She only found out because she chatted with her friend Lyn who nonchalantly mentioned Sandy’s death. She felt the whole world crushing down on her and Lyn felt horrible because she thought Sade knew. Sade and her husband were driving and Sade felt very cold, her shirt was soaked with tears.
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She closes her eyes and she sees Sandy blowing the smoke from the joint, baring her bright white teeth, laughing and mocking her. “God!” she thought “She was beautiful!” She loved liver and onions, Yuck! Sade was so disgusted by it and Sandy ate it every Tuesday making Sade retch. Sandy liked to lean on and against the rails at the cafeteria while they went through the line to order. They entertained each other with risqué and salacious jokes told in whispering tones and they giggled like high school girls. Yet both declared they hated high school. One day Sade asked Sandy, “Do you know who died today?” Sandy asked “Who?” Sade continued “I don’t know but they are serving his liver.” Sandy turned about face and delivered a hard blow to Sade’s left arm, it brought tears to her eyes. Sade could not move her arm without pain during the remainder of their shift. Sandy never ate liver and onions again. They were the same age and used to celebrate their birthdays together. Sandy was only thirty-two. That entire year outside of work, Sade did not see any of her friends. Now and then she tried to remember the pain on her arm to remind herself that her friend once lived.

Color My World

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Good morning!

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Today is a beautiful day in Zululand! It is cooooooool! I don't know what the temperature is but I can wear a blazer without perspiring. I love fall because of the fashion! YES!!! Sorry to disappoint you, I am superficial that way. We have no fall colors down here because of the temperature. Someday I will explain why leaves turn color if you don't know already. Oh yes, I know about those things because I study them. I have a very boring life. Hahaha! Instead of romance, mystery or fashion, I read about trees, leaves, fish and what really happened at Sodom and Gomorrah at bedtime.

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Above, Autumn Leaves drawn during my visits to the tree farm near my Father-in-law's house in South Carolina. Colored pigment ink on Bristol Board. Don't forget to vote for the replacement blog administrator!

What A Difference A Day Makes

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Yesterday we had a thunderstorm and a deluge. This morning it was bright and sunny. Yesterday, Sade was borne out of my attempt to doodle without holding a drawing pen and as I played with the squiggles, it occurred to me to create this woman whose temperament matched the tempest brewing outside my window. She was not really Sade until after midnight. I christened her thirteen hours ago. Now, she is totally over what was ailing her. She just needed to let off steam and her friend was kind enough to tap a vent into her limbic system and let the heat out. So Sade wants you all to know that she is going to take a nap because she looks and feels sleepy but basically, everything is back to normal, well as normal as can be for Sade.

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Sade is basically composed of several squiggles and a squirt.

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This concludes Sade's Almost 24-Hour adventure. She may appear again sometime this week but she cannot guarantee the conditions. Sade wants everyone to know that her namesake, Donatien Alphonse Francois Marquis de Sade is a Gemini and was born on June 2nd.

Not Lofty After All

Sade admits that being lofty is not always the best.

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The willow which bends to the tempest, often escapes better that the oak which resists it; and so in great calamities, it sometimes happens that light and frivolous spirits recover their elasticity and presence of mind sooner that those of a loftier character.

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Sir Water Scott

Friendship Therapy

Sade, (not 'shar-day' but 'sade' as in Marquis de 'Sade').

What her friends think of her:

"Oh good, it's Sade", "Don't worry it's Sade.", "Oh My God", "Oh No, you tell her", "I'm not going to ask her!", "Let's go to lunch", "Hello darling, how are you today? I need a favor, pretty please..." "Well, that's Sade", "Hi Sade, you look great! ... no, I don't need anything!", "Hello best friend!", "HAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh Sade....", "Oh Sade, how are you!?", "Hello sweetheart!", "Come with me please.", "we miss you". "Hey Sade!"

What Sade thinks of her friends:

"Hey it's great to see you!", "Yeah, right!", "Of course, I'll do anything for you!", "Another one?!", "You're changing it again?!", "It's okay, we'll get it done." "Don't worry, I will do it for you."

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What Sade's Friends Tell Her In Times Like These:

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What's wrong with you?

You are the most logical person I know!

Id, ego, superego, choose your pick.

Don't let your emotions get the better of you!

Not again!

Hahahaha!

Stay away from there, let's go to lunch.

What happened to reikki?

You are so intense! Stop it!

You hate housekeeping maybe you should clean your house this evening?

You artists are too much.

Pride will eat you.

Take a walk!

You have to be present.

You are letting this get the better of you.

I think it's just a big misunderstanding.

Rearrange your office.

Stay away from art for a week and read Thomas Jefferson.

Swallow your pride, it tastes like moo goo gai pan.

No, like pansit. Hahahaha!

Bury yourself in rules.

Go to the corner and lick your wounds.

Buy a new pair of shoes!

Oh Sade!

You know, why you feel this way, don't you?...because you care so much for each other."

Forget it, move on.

This is petty.

Really Sade.

Stop wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Is this another one of those dysfunctional relationship?

Be a businesswoman!

Be a CEO, not an artistic director!

Let the rule writer rule!

Are you okay, I hope that you and your friend can make it back all right.

Is it something that can be fixed.

I hope that you are okay my dear one, are you?

You'll be okay Honey.

You have to look at this objectively.

I trust, you know what to do.

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Sade:

I am so sorry.

I am so sorry.

Okay.

Okay.

I know what to do.

I hate feelings.

I hate emotions.