Tag: journal

Granny Grunt Goes Fishing

I graduated with a BFA in figure painting in 1996. When I left the university some teachers were complaining that the students wouldn’t even bother to draw. “Why should we? We can just trace.”

I left the convenience of a studio I had created. I walked away from the world I knew to go surfing and to live in CR. There has been one adventure/blustering sand filled, mud slung piece of hell after another. With rays from heaven piercing the clouds, like arrows, to my soul. And now here I am.

Fish Eye. Looking at the big picture.

I’m looking back. It’s hard to believe.

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howl

The first monkey let out its howl. It’s 5:41. Their howl is more like a growl. They are relatively small monkeys and their voice, made big, is surely some sort of evolutionary protection.

Evolutionary protection.

We could all use a pound or two of that right now.

The howl/growl has now become cacaphonic.

A lot like people life.

There’s obviously a leader. He won’t shut up. The tweets of the birds are reminiscent of the media. Different tones and paces. More chime in. Different voices. Layered.

As the cool, fresh, clean air comes through the doorway. I hear the crash of the waves.

HOWL!

What’s next?

I don’t know.

And neither does anyone else.

I have no clear sense of direction. How could I? One does certain things in life, expecting things to occur. The results of your hard work and perseverance. MML That just doesn’t work for me. I truly have to live my life one day at a time.

Exodus

My story is not one of arriving into the paradise of Tamarindo, 2024. Mine is one of running.

When I first became acquainted with the wild remote nature of Costa Rica, my world changed. The streets were dusty and bare. I would see the same hard bodied, man bunned, tattooed fellow in the street, on each trip to town. He would be walking down the hill. One man, one car – ours. It was a different world. 

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Rocking Guanacaste

I have not been interested in writing in this blog for a while. I am once again making my way south. On my trip home I had a good time and a bad time.

The Island was Hard to fit in.

My tenant experienced; a hate crime. Our illustrious Sheriff Bill has once again allowed a meth lab into the neighborhood. Breaking bad in Yulee Hills.

This is life these days.

I just shake my head and drive slow.

I want to get back to the things I enjoy. But I find myself just trying to stay alive.

AI will not quit interfering with me. What do I need them for? They are fake.

As I read. the Grand Inquisitor. I know. This is us.

Fools. Europeans, Russians, everyone demanding.

Bad food.

In the distance I hear a band. Tourist come to over eat – get drunk.

No one wanted to come to Costa Rica when it was a nature zone. Now many of the Costa Ricans have been stripped of their “pure vida” lives. Progress is here.

I just wanted to write, to write.

What am I going to do next? What will I be allowed to do. The freedom once here is now policed – yet there is no police. What was once free is costly, extravagant, pricey and high.

And yet somehow, I make the best of it. Yesterday, I felt like I was on a beautiful vacation.

Now matter how bad things get. With the right frame of mind, patience and perseverance, you can be a winner.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner – Get it while it’s hot – The fried skin will likely kill you. but who cares.

We are all dying,.

A Hog will eat Itself

This Little Piggy went to a meeting…

I was so grateful to the woman that shared every word I spoke was in her heart. – If I help one person. Including me, I’m doing good.

On the Road Again

It’s 4 in the morning. Once again, I am hitting the road. A ride with a friend, to the airport, to Atlanta, switch luggage. Re-enter the country. On to Jax. Be met by a happy leprechaun who will speak with a brogue and inform us, in a light hearted yet serious manner, the antics, adventures and misadventures, of our island. Amelia.

This has been an extensive stay, here in Surfside, Costa Rica.

I never in my imagination could have come up with the life style that I now lead.

I was taught by the best.

  1. Don’t be in a hurry.
  2. Don’t follow the crowd.
  3. Your health is you wealth.
  4. Love yourself and others.
  5. God is good. God is everywhere.
  6. Pay your bills.
  7. Know you are powerless.
    a. if you don’t think that you are, speak to someone who has lost everything due to catastrophic weather
  8. Don’t worry be happy.
  9. Be clean.
  10. Eat right – sleep good

    Enjoy the trip. We have hurricanes brewing. And coffee. And books. And love.

“my shitty blog”

4mm-14mm – Fisheye – Abstract, creative – a search for truth

I would be amazed at stories, such as, Diary of a Mad Drug Fiend / Alister Crowley – taboo – I had many false starts, living in those beginnings – I thought I was at the end. And it was. Until it wasn’t. Yet another colorful, animated clip. Called life. – Tell it all – Paint a colorful vibrant, spellbinding story. Loving, violent. Gut wrenching, ethereal.

In Black and White.

I was recently asked where am I going to write and publish these ideas. Good question. I started this blog, which is a personal journal in 2011. And I am glad I did. I enjoy writing. It helps me to process. And I have had my share of procession and possession, pugilist, pedantic, punctual and tardy pastimes. I have written them in the moment and events long gone. Vivid memories. Faint recollections. Fights. Court battles. Deaths. Births. Surf adventures. You know every day life. Getting by through writing.

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L e t G o

passing tram

I re-posted this because, one, I like Noir’s blog. The other reason is this picture made me think of the tight bonds and binds I have been in – in my life. And when I share with some, (I don’t want to insult) And they say in a cheery voice ….. Just Let it Go.

I agree with the let it go – it’s the Just that makes me cringe.

Annual Blog Check Up

Screenshot

This post is an annual check up of my blog.

Hhhhmmmm. A year ago, I was writing – I felt as if the flesh was being torn from the bones of my soul.

I can read that poem and remember. Oh, it was awful.

I came here to Potrero, thinking I was going to help, the kid, go to the University. Nada, no way Jose. This boy is going to swing a machete the rest of his life. – Okay – that took a while to process – to come down from. What a crock of mierda. – Who knows, the many piles of manure that I have stepped in, have become fertilizer in my life.

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