Letters from an Artist

April, 2002

4-29-02
The edge of my board caught in the slush and my body flew forward in a violent arc. Time slowed down as my brain measured the angles. Hmmm, the torso leads the way by about 6 inches...notice how inertia holds the head back while the feet are anchored to the snow. Ahh, see how the stomach hits first, then the head slams down. Oh, and look at that: notice how the feet, still attached to the board lift up in the air, compounding the backwards arc.
I lay still in the snow assessing the damage as I heard M ski down to a gentle stop beside me.
"Well Mark, you've got the left turn down pretty well, now you need to work on the right turn. Remember to weight the toe side of the board to turn right."
I spit a mouthful of slush out of my mouth, began to speak, thought better of it and levered myself painfully off the snow for the 100th time in two runs. Ski and fall, ski and fall over and over. A block from the bottom of the run, I took off the board and began walking down the slope to the lodge. Me, skier extraordinare, master of everything on snow had failed miserably at learning something grade school kids learn in a weekend. As I stumbled dejectedly up to M at the bottom, he looked at me with that big grin.
"Done already?"
"Yeah, I think my learning centers are all maxed out from the new job. You know that song, Girls just wanna have fun? That's me right now. It's been a rough 3 months. I must be too stressed to learn anything new today."
For the rest of the day I cruised the slush on my 22 year old antique downhills; rescued from a moldy life in the attic for a day in the sun...and rain...and fog. We'd planned on going climbing, but the weather changed and M offered to take me up and teach me snowboarding. Maybe next winter I'll try it again. I ran into an old printing buddy from Southgate Press on the slopes. Like me, he has made valiant efforts to escape the industry and is studying to enter the medical field. Today I get to be a plumber. I'm not sure how, but Sue dropped a butter knife down the kitchen sink.

4-27-02
Slept terrible. I am surrounded by people who believe in Christianity. That former saleman from J and D. Mark the pilot, Ted and countless relatives including my folks. I lay awake last night pondering the persuasiveness of their arguments. Plus worrying about my new job: teaching. These new jesus freaks do a lot of reading and seem to have all the anwsers. And yet, when I tell them I don't have any questions, they don't believe me. Sure, I used to wonder about big questions like the meaning of life...where did the universe come from. One can ponder oneself into a blur of confusion with too much time to think about things other than earning a living. The people who get hooked deep by religion are people who either have too much time on their hands, or not enough. They also tend to be people with issues. Like Ted came from a divorce, and found religion by way of AA, when he found himself abusing substances in his thirties and unable to quit. Mark, although he has a stable marriage, says his wife has moods where she treats him like a dog. His wife tells Sue that he's anal retentive and obsessive about neatness and procedures. Sort of a captain of the ship, but at home as well as in the sky. His sister is hooked on tobacco and in love with a meth junkie, plus she is a highly paid nurse, more money than Mark. But he keeps pressing me about my faith, or lack thereof.
  I can't believe that all the non believers in the world are wrong. And where is this hell that he and Ted have recently told me I am going to if I don't believe? I find the world an amazing place, especially when I view things that are not man made. What they think of as God, I think of as nature. What they think of as the ten commandments and the word of God, I think of as kindness and the basic rules for living in civilization. I think all humans, if they were raised with love and kindness, have the ability to appreciate beauty and treat their fellow citizens with kindness and respect.

All these questions about who was the real representative of God, whether it is Mohammed, Jesus, Moses, Bhudda or countless icons in Africa are pointless. We are all here for a brief period of years. If we can find some happiness during the brief time we spend on earth without ruining someone elses life, we have done well. Many of the things written in the holy books of the various religions are excellent advice. I personally was raised in a community that belived in the ten commandments and the golden rule. It's ecellent advice. I actually only remember a few of them anymore.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you

don't covet your neighbors wife

These are things to live by, without a doubt. If you were raised by confused people filled with anger, you won't be able to live by those simple rules. But as far as obsessing over what happens when you die....what's the point? Live now, don't worry about what happens when you die. That is then, this is now. It's so obvious what happens when we die: look at a dead dog on the road. Think he went to heaven or hell? He's worm food. I'm sorry. You're born, you live and you die. If you can find some happiness while you are here you've done well. We are simply animals with a thin veneer of civilization. Sometimes the veneer scrapes away and reveals the animal underneath....witness the violence in the news. Just like the lions in Africa, people will fight to the death over power, land and the notion of ownership.

Civilization and the notion of law can bring peace to those who accept the rules. My most religious moments come when I am outdoors breathing fresh air, marveling at the beauty of nature's grandeur. The sweep of a mountain as it curves up into the blue sky, the tide softly lapping at the ancient sand as it advances up the beach, a tree, blooming in the spring, lifting it's tender leaves to the sun, my kids, growing tall, strong and lovely, opening their eyes to the wonders of being alive on this beautiful planet. It's enough for me. I have no questions. I simply want to enjoy my life to the full as long as I can. Capturing some of that beauty brings me great pleasure. I don't know why the cave painters in France liked to draw the hunt, and I don't know why I enjoy painting landscapes. Like I tell my religious friends, I don't need answers because I don't have questions. I am simply happy to be alive and relatively healthy.

4-25-02
Today was a sad day. I was invited to attend a birthday party for an old friend of mine at a place I used to work back when I was a press operator. They'd called me up out of the blue to invite me down, simply saying that A. was feeling poorly lately and would I like to show up to show my support for an old friend in need. I've worked at this particular shop for 7 years, although not all at once. But A. has worked there for at least 17 years that I know of, and maybe longer. Most of their employees are longtimers.
    She was the kind of person who always had a kind word for you when things were going poorly. She was the consummate listener and always knew what was going on in your life. She used to ask me how my kids were, had I been painting, how was college going. She owns two of my still life paintings, paid for on time since she couldn't really afford them. She was there for me when I needed advice. Her advice wasn't cheap either, she got to know you before she offered it and it was usually words well heeded, delivered with a rare kindness.
    But sadly, she never missed a smoke break. When her daughter joined the bindery crew full time, they'd both sit out there in the breezeway puffing away. She wasn't smoking when I walked up to the breezeway today. She sat weakly in a wheel chair, wearing an IV, much thinner with hair that didn't look real. She said she'd had some back surgery on a few vertebrae, which didn't sound too desperate. Later, I asked her daughter what was going on and got the full story: cancer, beginning in her lungs had spread around her body...two brain operations...my heart filled with pain. I asked her daughter if she (the daughter) was still smoking. Oh yes, she said with a rueful smile, I can't quit.
    Later we gathered in a big circle around her chair, maybe forty people telling stories, some funny, some heart wrenching about working with A. over the years. Several of us got choked up...it's so hard to let go of a friend...to see the grim reaper walking amongst us, picking and choosing before our stunned eyes.

4-23-02
Between work and digging out from underneath a bad cold I've not had the energy or time to devote to this journal. Teaching computer animation, especially the concept of movement over time in 3 dimensional space is tricky. Still, I am enjoying it and look forward to each class. I have some brilliant students.
    Despite the cold, I've been getting some fun exercise. Yesterday I went mountain biking down the dirt power line road near our house. It's steep and rough, barely passable by cars in places with huge mud puddles...more like small lakes...with deep sand pits in the hollows. It goes for miles across the peninsula. It's great fun to pound down the rocky road, the bushes whizzing by, the sun lighting up the surrounding forest.
    Just read another book by Larry McMurtry, the author of Lonesome Dove. If you've not read the Lonesome Dove series, you are missing an awesome read. I actually listened to those on talking book. This latest book is called "Duane's Depressed" and is about a 63 year old oilman who decides to walk away from his oil business to focus on deeper questions like the meaning of life and the value of wealth...as in "you can't take it with you". He ends up doing some therapy sessions and falls in love with his therapist. It's complicated, but very readable and thought provoking.

4-15-02
Made some huge progress on my freelance project over the last few days. And, since this is Monday, yes that does mean that I worked through most of the weekend. My old climbing buddy Dave called me up today. He's moved back in town from a year in San Diego. It was funny talking with him. Sort of like a trip down memory lane. We began climbing together back in 1994 when we both worked swing at a print shop in Seattle. Life was a lot simpler back then. I'd never touched a computer, thought they were a complete waste of time, even worse than television which I still refuse to watch. My only goal in life was find a day shift job as a pressman and improve the quality of my life. The money was great, but working swing got older every year, and I worked swing or graves for about nine years. The great thing about printing was that I didn't bring my job home with me. Once I left the printshop, I never gave the business a second thought unless my day had gone poorly...and that only happened about half the time...OK, so it wasn't that great a job...but at least half the time I was able to walk in the door at home and turn my mind to other things. And they were fun things like seeing the family, going out in the garage and working on a still life or planning a climbing trip for the weekend.
    But that is all water under the bridge now. During Dave's absence I met two other climbers, so now, I am hoping we can put together a party up there. Years ago I used to know that many climbers from the Mountaineers. We'd all head over to the cliffs in a raucous car full of guys and have a blast. Boy's night out and all that. Plus Dave is a leader, and with two leaders we could get a lot more climbing in.
    The freelance work I've been doing has been writing. Since I've never done it professionally before it's been a steep learning curve. The project involved taking a two hour taped interview with a client and turning it into 14 pages of content for his web site. What I didn't realize was that the spoken word doesn't have a whole lot in common with written advertising copy. In the end, I found I did my best writing when I treated it like a written essay for an English class. You go out and research the subject, absorb all the knowledge you can find, then begin writing in your own words. I tried to use as much of his spoken words verbatim as possible, since it is a very technical field about which I know a bare minimum. Unfortunately, as I've already noted, spoken words do not necessarily make complete sentences, and they usually need heavy editing to make advertising copy. But I'm not complaining, it was great experience and very challenging. Whether he likes it or not remains to be seen, I sent a link today. Now I am focusing on lesson plans.   

4-11-02
Finished my taxes last weekend. Although it gets easier every year, my software program, (TaxCut) threw up a couple bugs. Customer service answered after a 2 minute wait and pointed out the delete form button I had missed. They offered no explanation for why the software inserted a bizarre form in my return, stopping the process and costing me several hours. It also refused to send the form electronically, claiming I had not completed a page that was quite complete. When I restarted the program 2 days later it was all smiles and kisses, e-filing flawlessly. I have a feeling they laid off all their good workers during the dotcom implosion, resulting in a buggy program. Next year I think I'll try Turbo Tax instead.
      When I'm not preparing lessons, or grading projects I've been working on my clients web site. I did a two hour taped interview in his office to get text content, not realizing how time intensive the transcription process would become. But I have it all converted to text now, and it's satisfying watching the site come alive with real content. I am hoping I can find enough free time to launch this site in the next two weeks because I have another project waiting in the wings. Some time ago I submitted a bid to a government agency. They took so long to accept the bid (two and a half months), that I had pursued other work. With the teaching, and finishing my current project, I am in high demand. I need to clone myself.

4-5-02
Started teaching this week. It's not full time work, but combined with what I can earn doing freelance work it is enough that I can tell the unemployment office, "thanks very much, but no thanks". Like many people laid off in hard times, I looked diligently for another full time job in the field from which I was laid off: Web Design. While I didn't find any full time work as an employee, I did, through networking amongst my friends, find freelance work. The very week I got a freelance contract, started work and received a check, I immediately reported the income to the Unemployment Office. Then began the paper work nightmare. For every week I claimed self employment income, I was sent threatening letters warning me that I had to immediately fill out 9 page forms describing in minute detail the amount of hours I spent working at freelance work, how long I had been doing it, what did I earn last year at it, what would I do if I was offered a full time job, on and on for 9 pages. Because they are too overworked to actually read this paperwork, they continue to send it out every week, sometimes twice a week. The same 9 page form, which very specifically describes how they will make you pay back Unemployment money you have received in the past, withhold your future wages, put a lien on your house etc.; all because you had the moxie to say yes to work whenever it was offered whether it was full time, part time or self employed freelance work. And in my case, the only work I found was freelance work.
     It's a little risky at this point for me to try to live on my part time job, and the unknown income I may or may not make in freelancing, but at least I can focus on what I do well instead of arguing with bureaucracy over how I should or should not look for work. What is surprising about the Web Design field is that while full time jobs as an employee are extremely hard to find, there is tons of work out there for an individual with the moxie to go after it. One has only to look at the web sites listed in the yellow page ads for local businesses to see opportunity. Poor design is everywhere. If you are a talented designer with the moxie to approach these businesses in person, you will find work.
     The established Web Design industry is in a state of transition. Many web shops are still trying to recover from the implosion of the dot com bubble. Businesses are looking at their advertising revenues very carefully. They no longer take it for granted that they need a presence on the Internet. They want to know why. Our job as web designers is to take a careful look at their position in the marketplace. How are they currently reaching their customers? Is it a yellow page ad? A monthly bulk mail piece? Some of the other well established avenues of advertising are radio spots, TV commercials, billboards by the freeways, signs on buses, even tea shirts and hats. A web page for a business can, and should, be integrated into the businesses overall marketing approach.
    If the business already has an established logo, that logo should play an important part in the web page. This is known in advertising as branding, a term whose origins date back to cowboys wielding red hot branding irons over terrified young steers. Now it refers to a business keeping their logo, or brand prominently featured in their advertising, on their building, in the yellow page ad and on any packaging associated with their particular product or service. During the dot com heyday, Web Design firms sold businesses on massive web sites costing upwards of $20,000 for glitzy animated showpieces that generated very little income in return.
     Now businesses are wisely asking, "What is the bottom line on these advertising dollars you want me to spend?" We have to explain to them that a Web Site for their business can, at the very least, simply be an extension of their yellow page ad. Instead of spending $500 a month on a three by three inch yellow page ad, they could cut the yellow page ad size in half and divert that money into a Web Site. Unlike a yellow page ad, a Web Site does not double in price if you increase it's size. Pages and pages of information and pictures about their product or service can be presented to their prospective customers at very competitive prices compared to traditional media. While it's true that some older people do not use the Internet, and for those people businesses need to continue to advertise in traditional media, there are many people out there who are Internet savvy. Phone book publishers recognized this immediately and began offering to print a businesses web site address below their phone number. This little line of type can launch a Web Site capable of presenting far more information than traditional media could ever hope to achieve.
    I don't know what got into me here. I appear to be on a crusade. I've been covering these same topics in college...I guess I had to get them off my chest. This morning I woke up with a dead left arm. Something brought me out of a dream about Flash ( I live and breath Flash lately ) because my arm hurt. I sat up in bed to find my arm completely dead, laying lifelessly on my lap. When I picked it up with my other hand it felt like someone else's arm, completely without sensation, a warm, living arm, just not mine. No motor control, no sense of feeling when I touched it. I could sense some tingling and numbness but nothing else. A rising feeling of horror crept up through my groggy mind...my God, I've just lost my arm....it's completely dead! Over the course of several minutes the nerve, which I must have pinched in my sleep, recovered and my arm came back to life with a rush. Yowser....maybe we should buy that new mattress.

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