Usually if I go for a long time without a blog entry its because, well, my life totally sucks and there is absolutely nothing to write about except me sitting catatonic in front of the TV watching “The View” getting pissed off when everybody in the audience gets a free ticket to a Broadway show or a $50 giftcard to Amazon.com or even a goodie bag of green cleaning products from some guy named Sven whose company is called I Love Mother Earth and So Should You.com. I mean, where’s my goodie bag, bitches??
But I don’t have any excuse for not writing other than I’ve been the busiest I’ve been possibly since the days when I used to get up and actually go to work everyday. What’s up with that? Well, I think its something called “Having a life”. All the cool kids are doing it. Naturally there’s no pay involved. Oh no. That would be too freakin’ weird. The universe simply wouldn’t allow that.
So lets briefly review the uber busy wittykitty social calendar.
First: I was asked to be in a women’s writing group by someone I met at the Goth art show. I can’t say much because I’m fairly certain she is probably scouring the internet, as we speak, looking for my blog since I’ve been bringing in doctored up entries (deleting my “wittykitty” moniker obviously) since I’m too damn lazy to write anything new.
I did feel pretty anxious at the first group meeting since everyone there actually reads REAL BOOKS and throws around famous author names like Carlos Castaneda, who, of course, I thought was the guy who won “Dancing with the Stars” last year. I admit, I’m not real intellectual. But by our second meeting there was a little less literary muscle flexing so I felt a little less like Paris Hilton at a Think Tank with Stephen Hawkings.
And then my art group had our big once a year art conference at the local university. I absolutely loved it because I felt like I was going to an expensive college for two days, having access to lots of talented and sometimes famous artists who spoke at our event. Usually Charlemagne and I go up and pilfer recycle old canvases and art supplies left over from the school year up in the lockers but unfortunately everything had already been totally cleaned out. Bah!
I think my biggest thrill though was getting to meet world famous artist Jer0me Witkin). He is 69 years old and has had an incredible art career and is well thought of in the art world. Here is a sample of his work.
Anyways, he did a presentation of his work with us 2 years ago. Back then in my incredible angst, I had gone up to him with my art friend “J”, intending to ask to get my photo taken with him, because he’s like a rock star to me, and suddenly I chickened out and told “J” to go stand next to him while I took his picture. I had been kicking myself ever since.
Well, not this time baby. I was still nervous as hell. He said so many things in his presentation that really resonated with me about being an artist. So much so I was practically weeping. But I didn’t want to go up and start babbling like a teenager meeting the actor from “Twilight”. “J” was with me once again and he took my camera and fortunately did all the talking. I just stood there like a geek thinking, “Can I touch your painting hand so I can be like you?”
But what was really cool, was not me meeting him (his hands were really cold by the way!), but the fact that “L” the Hippy Chick met him and with her warm yet raucous personality managed to get a modeling gig with him. I am so happy for her. She was absolutely over the moon. And for the rest of the day, everytime we’d see each other we’d literally jump up and down like two teenagers who just got free Jonas Brothers tickets. And since then I’ve been getting to hear stories about how he works and about his studio and what music he plays. Evidently, she is going to be part of a huge three part mural. All she really wants is to be on a work of art hung in a museum somewhere as a legacy for her kids and grandkids. Go “L”!
The Monday after the art conference I went to the Spanish Lady artist house and we went kayaking. That was certainly a first. When we were driving back from the lake she abruptly stopped the car when she saw a dead badger in the road and ran over and took a photo of it. Back at the house she later showed me her series of photos of road kill. I pretty much excused myself from that. Urp! I actually got invited up there again today, but I’m pretty tired from another art gallery thing last night and besides she may be busy looking for squashed ferrets or something.
My art show came down last Friday. Nothing sold, although the art gallery owner told me several people were interested in my koi fish painting. People are always interested in that. They just never buy it, right “A”?
I’ve been very manic in the last week or so, finishing up paintings that have been laying around my apartment half done. I’m going to be doing another art show with Charlemagne on June 13th with a bunch of my self portrait photos. I’ve had photos in shows and even museums before, but it was in the days before digital cameras, so I had to get 10 prints printed at Target and buy a bunch of frames and put them together yesterday. I think Charlemagne is gonna freak when he sees a couple of them. No more asexual witty. A lot of times when I do my “selfies” (self portraits) I definitely glam it up. I realize I don’t exactly ooze girly girl in my every day life. I guess I’m just afraid of attracting the wrong sort if I’m too fabulous, so I just settle on attracting absolutely nobody, although….
Well, I had a rather large shock two days ago coming out of the yuppie grocery store. I had just stopped in for a couple of things. And as I was exiting the store who do I see in living color? Married Guy! Fucking hell! I mean I have seen him a couple times from a distance or from my car where I could either duck behind a counter or speed off in a cloud of dust, but there he was…less then five feet away from me. My heart nearly ripped out of my chest, pounding 1000 MPH. I haven’t talked to him in nearly 5 years.
So there he was and there was no denying we were going to have to say at least SOMETHING. Naturally I was gripping the handle of my shopping cart like I was hanging off a twig over Niagara Falls and he was just casually approaching me smiling, saying something snarky like “Wow, its been like 10 years hasn’t it?” I corrected him, of course.
So we started catching up a little but it was really noisy in the main thoroughfare so I suggested we step inside the store. And then he said he was just going in for a bite to eat. And stupid me, yes, I did invite myself and there was no, “Well, you really shouldn’t you crazy bitch” from him. So we had dinner together and talked about the last five years. And about my anger. heh. There was no admonishing though. Just an interest in what happened. And then he did the most astonishing thing. He invited me to Kidlet’s high school graduation party. Last time I saw Kidlet, who I always adored, he was only in 8th grade.
Whether this all transpires is truly up in the air.