Underlying Form

 Bones fascinate me. I love the myriad of shapes they take, how each one is perfect in both function and form, and the vast amount of information you can get about the organism from them. It's like reading the animal's biography.  I especially like skulls. I collect skulls. For the record I did not and would not cause the death of any animal  for my collection I found and cleaned most of them myself, the vast majority by the roadside (I could elaborate on that point and discuss various cleaning methods here, but, trust me you don't want me to!).  I wanted to get some practice taking photos today and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to show off some of my more interesting specimens. the first picture here was a nice accidental still life. I was doing a few sketches on my porch while waiting for the camera battery to charge. One of the nice things about having a few skulls around the house is that I always have something interesting to draw.

Here we have my Canid collection. From smallest to largest: Red fox (Vulpes vulpes),North Eastern Coyote (Canis latrans thamnos), and Feral Dog (C. lupus familiaris). I find it really interesting to be able to compare these closely related species with one another. Note the bullet hole in the coyote's cranium. I found her along a farmer's fence row. It should be mentioned that there is a chance that the bottom skull is possibly a coyote/dog hybrid,  judging by how deep in the woods I found it. It is very difficult to tell from morphology alone.This is the one most likely to get me in trouble with people. It is a Domestic Cat. (Felis cattus). This specimen was hit by a car. I didn't want somebody's beloved pet in my collection, so I made absolutely certain that he was a stray before I took it. I just love how compact the jaws are and those fantastic large sockets.
 The whole skull has a pleasing round form

This is one example of why comparative anatomy is so intriguing to me. On the left is the North American Beaver (Castor canadensis) and the one on the right, the Common Porcupine (Erethizon dorsatum) These are the two largest rodents in North America. They are from entirely different branches of the Rodent family. One is adapted to aquatic life and the other is largely arboreal, and yet, their skulls are remarkably similar because they eat the same type of plant matter. 

This one was on my wish list for a very long time. It is hard to find an intact skull of the Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) because most animals that eat them aim for the head. I found this about a quarter mile from the cat, and on the same day. Sometimes you just get lucky. A rabbit's skull has a surprisingly aggressive character for such a timid animal.

The only native marsupial in North America, the Virginia Opossum (Didelphis virginiana) has the most teeth and smallest braincase of any mammal on the continent. I really like the sleek looking zygomatic arches (cheekbones) and large sagital crest on this specimen. I think it may have been quite young when it died.

When I want to stump someone, I usually try to have them guess what this next one is. Very few people could tell without being told first that this wonderful piece of Gothic architecture is what's found beneath the jowls and floppy ears of the Domestic Pig (Sus scrofa domesticus).

I probably have more Whitetail Deer (Odocoileus virginianus) skulls than anything else. The one depicted here  is neither my best specimen or my most interesting, but she was one of the first skulls I found and the one that really got me started on my morbid little hobby. Deer skulls seem very graceful to me

The skull of  a Sheep (Ovis aries), on the other hand, is  charmingly cumbersome looking object.I'm not sure what breed this is, but  the arching Roman nose and high set eyes give it a lot of character.  A friend gave me this.

Finally, I had to sneak at least one drawing into this post.  This is a sketch I did a while back. It is the skull of a Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata)  from a private collection. (9x12 graphite on bristol vellum).

Well, that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed seeing some of my collection nearly as much as I liked showing it to you

Shameless Self Promotion and some musings On the Business of Art

      People have asked me  if, given that art expresses something personal about the maker, whether I find it difficult to sell. Don't I become emotionally attached to the piece? My answer is that I have very little difficulty with selling my work for the simple reason that I enjoy regular meals and sleeping indoors.  It is true that each piece I produce reflects some aspect of myself, sometimes in quite surprising ways, and that a part of the creative process is to fall in love with your project. I view the process of art making as an adventure filled with pitfalls, surprises, and wonderful discoveries. the actual finished piece is an artifact of this voyage. I am fond of them because they show where I have been, but ultimately, I do not need to posses them to remember. If someone else wants something I made, I am more than happy to part with it, for a fair price. If there's an item that I'm particularly attached to, I just make it more expensive!

Which brings me to the Self Promotion bit. After about a year of sitting fallow, my Etsy shop is now active. Here are the items that I have put up for sale so far:

... And here is an exclusive preview of the next item to be posted. I posted it here so that you could be among the first to see it....Because I love you!

(Thank you for checking out this post. If you don't wish to read a detailed belligerent rant about the perils of trying to make a living in the arts, here would be a good place to stop reading, although I do think I got a few funny lines in.)

  One of the most harmful false beliefs about the creative lifestyle, nearly as bad as the necessity of suffering (That is a whole separate rant that, at the moment, I won't subject you to!) is that artists are and should be divorced from mundane concerns. To be pragmatic and businesslike is somehow looked upon as selling out and not being true to your creative nature.  I have come to have a very definite opinion about the role of professionalism in the Art World. I firmly believe there ought to be some. I have the good fortune to count many talented successful artists as friends.Far from being divorced from reality, they are uniformly practical and professional. Working artists generally can come up with inventive business strategies, money saving tricks and innovative promotion techniques that would make a marketing department sit up and take notice.  They need to in order to survive . The sad truth is artists need to function in the real world. There is no bohemian exemption available on the federal tax forms. The phone company doesn't look at your occupation and say "because you work to find Truth and Beauty we're going to give you free service and a coupon for an  ice cream sundae." In fact the opposite is usually true. You find yourself constantly having to convince people that what you do is actually work. Non-profit Arts organisations are constantly trying to get you to donate a piece for their charity auctions or badgering you to pay them membership fees on the premise that they just might get you a show later on where you just might sell a piece. Casual acquaintances slyly  hint that they would love to own a piece of your work and then act as though you've mortally insulted them when you quote your selling price instead of just offering to give it to them.

Try this little social experiment next time you need to get your car repaired: Inform the mechanic that you drive a lot and know a lot of other drivers. Tell him that working on your car would be a great opportunity for him to showcase his abilities and could open a lot of doors for his business. Explain to him that because he enjoys working on cars so much anyway, and because of the amount of future work you could potentially drum up for him, that he should repair your vehicle for free, or at very least give you a really big discount.
 Now duck.
 There will be a rather large crescent wrench flying towards your head by this point.

Every artist I know has heard many different versions of this exact same argument over the years. Even more remarkably, none of them have ever been charged for assault.

Hidden in the Block

Because I do so much work in wood, not many people know that I also love carving stone. It is difficult to find reasonably priced, workable stone. It's always struck me as one of life's weirder ironies that sculptor's blocks are sold by the pound. Every now and again, I do get my hands on a decent block. In this case my younger sister Sarah gave me a few blocks of green soapstone for Christmas several years back. Incidentally, Sarah is an amazing illustrator who keeps a blog called Sarah Draws Things, in which she appropriately enough, posts things that she draws. Visit it. Trust me. You will not be disappointed.  Pictured here is one of the blocks she gave me along with the knife with which I did most of the carving. It used to be one of my favorite wood knives, now it's my favorite stone knife. For the record, this block still remains uncarved. It is not a before shot of my sculpture. I never seem to think of that sort of thing ahead of time. Anyway, the stone sat on my shelf for years until I finally saw the form in it. It's very difficult to talk about my working process without sounding a bit mystical. All I'll say here for now is that Michelangelo was entirely right when he said that the statue already exists inside the block,waiting to be released . I can't explain how or why this is so, it just is. Here is what I found in the stone. 

She stands about 3 inches tall. The dark spots are pyrite deposits. She looks a bit skeptical about them.

 I polished the stone with a drop or two of oil. This gives the surface a pleasant sheen and accents the natural color of the soapstone. It also makes this piece very difficult to photograph.

 There is something very appealing about foxes. They seem to turn up in the local folklore of anywhere that they grace with their presence

Whether they are called Madra Rua, Kitsune, to Reynard, foxes always are portrayed as wily and seem to be perpetually up to some sort of mischief !

 Recently in Jordan, Archaeologists have uncovered some of the earliest graves yet found. The real surprise was that buried alongside people, in a manner similar to dogs in later sites, were fox skeletons.

 This might mean that one of the first animals we ever tried to domesticate as pets were foxes!

National Geographic recently had an article about a genetic experiment in Russia where foxes were selectively bred for docility. 13-15 generations later, They successfully bred foxes that are as tame as cats and dogs. If you had thousands of dollars to spend, you could actually have a pet fox!

 As much as I'd  love to own a fox, I think some animals are meant to stay wild. I like the idea of the clever, adaptable fox, out there somewhere wild and free.

...and finally, here is a shot of the finished piece next to the uncarved block and knife to give you a sense of scale. I'd love to hear what you think of her.

Everything that traffic will allow...

Don't stop me if you heard this one, I like it and want to hear it again.
This joke was probably old before Vaudeville.

A reporter was visiting the circus when he came upon an old man leaning on a shovel. When asked what he did the old fellow replied, "I'm the elephant assistant. Each morning I have to poke the elephants with a sharp stick to wake them up. The elephants hate me for it and try to trample me at every opportunity. After that I sort through the buckets of vegetables and pull out all   the stuff that's too rotten for them to eat. I spend the rest of the day shoveling up elephant droppings. Every day I wind up exhausted, smelling terrible, with my back killing me. I have to sleep in a train car with fifty other guys. The food is lousy and I only get paid a dollar a day"
"That sounds awful!" said the reporter "Why don't you just quit?"
The old man was scandalized
"What?! You mean get out of show business?"

I like this joke. It sums it all up really.

To work as a touring puppeteer means keeping a sleep schedule that is officially banned by the Geneva Code. You are constantly having to get up way before sunrise to drive for hours to a school where the custodian may or may not know you are coming, but is definitely not happy to see you. Once you establish that you are supposed to be there, you need to wrangle for an adequate performance space, usually in a place called  "Cafetorium" or "Gymnteria" or if you're extremely lucky "The Multi-Purpose Room". Then you need to carry all the equipment in through the smell of Tater Tots. More than likely you are carrying over an unnecessarily long distance filled with random debris or poorly supervised children. Needless to say all the equipment needed for a puppet show is that perfect magic combination  of awkwardly shaped, heavy, and incredibly delicate. About midway through your setup when you are most drenched in sweat and a very bad word is forming on your lips, just after you've discovered that some impossibly fussy but vital piece of equipment is malfunctioning for no readily apparent reason, The PTA rep arrives. This is usually an excessively tidy person who has very exact ideas as to how things should go. All your future work in this district depends on keeping this person happy, accommodating their lightest whim, and, assuring that they remain generally unaware of the small fire that has just broken out. This is of course followed by the comparably easy task of holding your arm above your head for two hours, and convincing an audience of 350 kids that the inert object you are holding is alive and experiencing emotions. When you're on the road it's an endless string of highway miles, cheap motels, gas station coffee, and bad food. The work schedule itself is erratic and your financial well being is inexorably tied to the ability of complete strangers to find arts funding. You can never be entirely certain when or where the next gig is.My life is far less stable than practically everyone I know. I need to buy groceries dependent on whether or not they will expire when I'm on tour. Other friends are paying mortgages, getting married, having children and behaving like sensible adults. I don't even have enough economic and schedule consistency to commit to cat ownership. I work harder and stranger hours  for less money than almost anyone else I can think of

When I tell people that I'm a professional puppeteer they always say "Oh! that must be so much fun!"
I tell them that it has it's moments.
It does too.

    With my particular skill set, it would be very difficult to think of what other job I am actually qualified for. At this stage in my career I can barely imagine doing anything else. Maybe it's some sort of weird recessive gene in play that makes people go into show business, or a form of mental disorder but I do know once you're in, it becomes nearly impossible to leave. I could find a sane and reasonable job that provided healthcare and regular hours, but I wouldn't like it. I would miss those rare golden moments that make all the heartache and strife worthwhile. The moment when you come up with a perfect new gesture or expression that makes your character really gel. The excitement and anticipation when the children see you setting up. Those times when a child breaks rank with their class and runs up to you, regardless of the fact that they'll get in trouble later, because there's a question they just HAVE to ask. The gasps,  laughter, and spontaneous exclamations from the audience when a bit goes just right. The Applause. Oh yes! Always, the applause!

 When someone becomes involved in performance we say:"(S)He's caught the bug.".  Perhaps it's contagious. I was once cast in my friend's independent film. Between takes I was hanging around with some of the extras. They were all volunteers, practically everyone on set was. The extras seemed to spend the entire time complaining. They complained about the cold, the rain, the mud, the food, the delays between takes, the itchy costumes, the fact they would probably only have a few seconds of screen time,  and the general air of chaos that is an essential part of any set. When asked if they would be there for tomorrow's shoot. the answer was unanimous and given without a second's hesitation:
"Oh, Yes!"

I remember watching a herding demonstration when I was a boy. It was neat to watch the border collies dash back and forth dividing the dirty white cloud of sheep in two and pushing them back together again and driving them across the hillside at the shepherd's command. The part I'll always remember about it is when the two black and white dogs loped back to their handler's side, pink tongues lolling and sat by his side. The shepherd turned to the audience and told us that the best way to reward the dogs for a job well done is to let them do it again and sent them sprinting back at the startled herd.
Yeah.
I understand that exactly.

Fiction: Trolls

I was sorting through some old files when I discovered some background writing I had done for my fantasy series. One of the concepts behind it is to approach creatures from folklore as if they were real living entities, In other words make them animals instead of monsters. Here is a brief exploration of Troll culture and biology.I have pages and pages of this stuff. Please let me know what you think in the comments...

Trolls

    The largest and most solitary of all peoples, Trolls originated high in the mountains and tundra. They tend to be nocturnal but aren’t as strict about this as G’blenthi. Trolls consider themselves to be the only culture to develop a written language before a spoke one. While this might not actually be true, Trolls place a much higher importance on writing than even the Nom. Because of their solitary nature, and remoteness of their habitation, the written word is the most important method of communication between Trolls.  If  these people can be said to hold any  concept of  sacred objects , it is based around text. One of the oldest artifacts of any culture is “Response to the Argument of  Hulluk’s Unified Theory of Self Identity” carved into a slab of  slate by an author who identifies herself  simply as “Shul Kahartha” (Daughter of the Mountain).  The Troll’s written language is considerably more elegant and nuanced than the spoken word, which actually seems to be a form of verbal shorthand.

    It  is hard to make generalized statements about Troll culture because, as one astute early observer put it, each Troll behaves as their own sovereign nation. They are autonomous creatures with individual allegiances, feuds, and customs. Trolls live in solitude and sometime hibernate. (Modern Trolls will sometimes go dormant during the cold winter months) in their own well defined territories.  If these boundaries are not respected properly, the individual can become very territorial. This has given them an unwarranted reputation for aggression. When the boundaries are shown the proper respect and ritualistic permission has been given, Trolls can be quite gregarious and hospitable. Some individuals seem to really enjoy visitors. A Trolls favorite medium of exchange is information this can either be gossip or philosophical discourse. Troll discussions can last for weeks at a time, pausing only long enough to  allow the participants to sleep or forage for food .  It is customary for Trolls to groom each other while conversing.

    Trolls are omnivorous, preferring simple vegetarian cuisine when it is available, but they are capable hunters. Unlike all other peoples,  Trolls always eat in private. It is considered a severe breach of etiquette to eat in front of anyone else or watch someone eat. If two trolls need to share food, (such as the carcass of a recent kill) they will face away from one another and not speak  until the meal is complete. Modern restaurants in urban centers often have a few closed booths to accommodate their largest customers need for seclusion.

    When the female comes into estrus she will seek a mate and select based on intellectual accomplishment as well as physical strength. The breeding pair will live together until the child can walk. After this point the parents alternate child rearing responsibilities. Contrary to the stereotype, Trolls are attentive doting and protective parents. When the child is old enough, they venture forth into the world to find their own settlement. Natural caves are preferred but they will build into the hillside themselves if no suitable cavern is available. Before settling in, the young troll will seek out other more established adults to educate them so that they can develop a broader view of the world than what their parents can teach them.  Outside the mating season, trolls don’t differentiate between the genders, and find other species’ views on gender roles comical.

    Before the advent of printing technology,  there was not much understanding between Trolls and other people. The common belief was that trolls possessed limited intelligence and no cultural sophistication. They were thought to be savage and violent unruly creatures. Trolls themselves thought most other people weak, foolish and incapable of living alone. Unkind references  in their writing  often dubbed non trolls  “ants” or “smallnoses” ( due to the weaker sense of smell ). Feeding into the cruel misconceptions about Trolls is their simplistic purely funtional technology. Trolls use only the most basic of tools and construction methods and only wear clothing out of deference to wider cultural sensibilities. As trolls have thick shaggy, rust colored pelts, they do not need any further protection from the elements and have thus not developed any sense of body modesty.  Trolls genuinely can’t understand the concept of physical shame.
Trolls excel in mechanical fields and usually have an innate technical ability. This is rarely employed, however, due to the fact that Trolls would rather spend their energy on intellectual pursuits . So they settle on the simplest solution and move on.  The historic difficulty of  relations between trolls and other  peoples was exacerbated by the fact that trolls would occasionally prey upon different species of hominids
This practice has largely ceased since the acknowledgement  that other peoples are in fact intelligent. In turn the custom of mobbing trolls to death has mostly stopped among other cultures. There is still occasional resentment over these incidents however.

    In modern society Trolls trade freely with other peoples and are usually found in positions like engineering, research, and construction where their aptitude for mathematics and tremendous physical strength are assets. They are seldom involved in politics and are surprisingly rare in academic and legal fields. Trolls have very limited tolerance for bureaucracy. They tend to be brusque and forthright in communication. They do not stand on ceremony or concern themselves overly with manners. Trolls welcome intellectual discourse and are usually extremely well read on a wide array of subjects.

    Trolls have made vast contributions in the field of literature not only in Philosophic and scientific observations, but in poetry and fiction as well. While a troll “novel” is intended as a pure literary form, their poetry and music (they use the same word for both) is meant to be sung, chanted or declaimed,. instrumental accompaniment is rare and when it is involved is traditionally a simple rhythmic line repeated over and over on flute or drum. Dramatic monologues are sometimes performed, but the trolls have no naturally occurring theatrical arts in their culture. Small carved figures and accurate drawings do exist, but they are considered a secondary form of expression purely for illustrational purposes.
 

Copyright John A Ryan  2010 

Artwork: Hornet

     Technology hates me. I know what you're thinking. Your'e thinking "Ha ha! this is another one of John's wacky exaggerations. he's antropomorphizing for comic effect. ". Well, it's not and I'm not. Seriously. Technology actually hates me. Time and again I've listened to my Tech-savvy friends who are trying to coach me through an apparently simple problem say things like: "It's actually a very common problem, to fix it you merely have to...um...HOLY HELL! How did it just DO that??!?!??" and then spending the next three hours trying in vain to fix what it took me an accidental keystroke to do . I once completely and irreparably incapacitated a Netbook merely by trying to change the background image. The only logical explanation for half of the stuff that happens is that the machine in question has taken a instant dislike to me and is acting with Malice Aforethought. The reason that I'm telling you this is so you will fully appreciate  the fact that I figured out how to upload pictures here.
I Proudly Present to you my first ever blog post of my Artwork!
s

 This Hornet is hand carved from a solid block of Basswood. She is 6"long 4.5"tall and 2"wide at her wingtips.
I think wasps and hornets are actually quite attractive and interesting social insects.

I used a simple linseed oil finish to highlight the natural grain patterns.

you'll notice that the legs, wings and  antennae are mostly carved cross-grain because...well because I am a terrible show off, to be honest.

Notice the way the light comes through the edge of the wings?
Yeah, they're really that thin!

I wanted to show you a few different angles here. so you could
get the feel of the piece. Hopefully I'll get better at photographing
sculpture soon

Well, that's all really. I hope you enjoyed it

A Tutorial on Job hunting for the Professional Puppeteer

     In these tough economic times, finding work can be challenging for almost any professional.  For the creative professional, the search for employment presents special difficulties and requires a highly specialized skill set.  As a public service to my younger and less experienced colleagues, I have decided to leave detailed instructions on the process of searching for gainful employment as a puppeteer. I cannot guarantee success , of course, but this is the procedure I have always used. It has gotten me where I am today and… well, there’s just no arguing with results!

Part  1

Updating your Resume

 Realize that you haven’t updated your resume in quite some time now. Find a copy. If it is on software that has not yet gone obsolete, this is a plus. Review. Reassure yourself that the cavernous gaps in your employment history are perfectly normal and acceptable on the grounds that no prospective employer will care about your vast experience in retail or waiting tables. Add your most recent work experiences, taking care to frame them in the most impressive way possible.  Remember:  the more job titles and responsibilities you can attribute to yourself, the more impressed you future boss will be!  Edit your references, carefully making sure you have their correct contact information and that you still are on speaking terms. Erase anything under the heading “References” and replace with “Available upon Request”.   Read your “Special Skills” section. Realize how random and implausible it looks, in spite of the fact it’s all perfectly true. Update and refine this section before invariably editing it out for taking up too much space, and because ultimately no one will care whether or not you can juggle.

Pro Tip: Remember to save a copy with the “References” and “Skills” section intact. This will inevitably be the only copy that somehow survives. 

Part 2

The Hunt

    Go online. Open your search engine. Type in the phrase: “Puppetry Jobs”. Be astonished at the sheer number of results this produces. With a sense of hope and optimism begin scanning the listings of a major job search site. Notice about three pages in that most of these are for a software program called “Puppet” which you hadn’t previously heard of and don’t know how to operate. Swear. Change your search term to either “Puppetry “or “Puppeteer” Browse through the results. Eliminate any that include the words “Intern” or “Volunteer”. This should narrow your search down to about 3 listings. To any basic job posting there are three basic reactions. They are as follows:

1)      Amused Contempt:  Upon researching the company’s website, you are astonished by the bald faced incompetence of their puppet design, ugly website and cheesy show selection.  You decide instantly it isn’t worth your time to apply and marvel to yourself how such rank amateurs can possibly stay in business. This reaction will be appropriate for about 97% of what you’ll see.

2)      Mild Interest: After reviewing the company website, you are not blown away, but this company seems to have things relatively together.  Working for them would seem to be a distinct possibility. Then you read what they’re asking for. They want you to sing. They expect a minimum of 3 years in interpretive dance training. You must be ten years younger, seven inches shorter and probably the opposite gender. There is absolutely no creative input from the performers.  Preference in casting is given towards full blooded Fijian natives. You need to fly cross country on your own expense to attend the audition in two days. They pay 50 dollars per week. Moving on.

3)      Delight:  This listing might even be for a troop you’ve heard of. Their website looks really cool. The puppets are beautiful. Their shows are really interesting and innovative. You watch their videos and are genuinely impressed. You start to fantasize about working alongside these people who will doubtlessly be funny and cool and listen to your ideas. They are even based in a city you want to go to.  Also, the position was filled three months ago.  

Go to another Jobsite. Repeat process. Repeat process. Repeat process. Decide you’ve earned a break for a quick game of FreeCell. Two hours later, repeat process.  Look on a puppetry specific website. Realize that the listings are pretty much the same as what you’ve been looking at all along. Only this time, they're accompanied by idiotically chirpy and obvious pointers on how to find work.  Find another puppetry site.  Find out they’ve been defunct for several years. Check in on Facebook. Read the updates of your performer friends who are all happily employed and doing really fun projects. Decide that you now hate them. Open bottle of whiskey. Make yourself a drink (Pro tip: After this stage, it is vitally important that you do not contact any prospective employers. Trust me).  Go back to searching. Ten websites and two drinks later, notice that you’re looking at all the same websites over again. Look up that one troop you kind of liked on Youtube. Begin drinking straight from the bottle. Decide that the video you like reminds you of that amazing puppeteer who inspired you to follow your dream in the first place. Try to find that famous sketch of his. You know that hilarious one with the lobsters?  Spend the next hour obsessively trying to find it before remembering it was called “The Lobster Sketch”.  Watch it. Wonder why you can’t make something so utterly brilliant. Read the comments on the video. Become annoyed by one idiot who clearly doesn’t understand how good this is. Consider writing a scathing comment at him until you realize that even though you might be drunk, your judgment isn’t nearly impaired enough for a “Comments section “. Take another swig. Go to the bathroom. Catch sight of your own reflection. Notice your bald spot is bigger. Notice that you’ve gained weight. Notice the lines around your eyes.  Decide to start exercising and eating healthy. Order a bacon and onion pizza. While eating, get all maudlin and sentimental about your passing youth. Call an old dear friend in a distant city. Whine at them. Complain that the opportunities are all for younger people. Mention that you’re afraid of dying alone, obscure, and unloved.  Weep. Allow them to pacify you. Talk for hours until they point out that its two a.m. and they have to get up in the morning. Hang up. Put the empty bottle in the recycling.   Save the last slices for breakfast.  Go to bed. Wake up hung-over the next morning and start all over again. Continue this process until you actually find work or your remaining friends have staged yet another intervention.

New beginnings

     It feels a little strange to be starting another blog when I haven't updated Tourist Monkey for well over a year. Of course there is a simple reason for that: Tourist Monkey is a travel blog. I simply haven't gone anywhere very exotic recently.

   To be honest with you, this is an experiment. I have no agenda or grand statement to make here. I am simply writing a chronicle of my thoughts to see where they might lead, and because several of my friends seem to think that might be a good idea. If any unifying theme emerges, it will do so organically and with no planning. It will happen because it comes from me. Images of my work will definitely be posted along with ideas and opinions, short fiction and observations on any number of subjects great and small .

     I will try to avoid having this forum become an exercise in narcissism.You are probably not very interested in what I ate for lunch, so unless it's a particularly hilarious or poignant sandwich, I will not bother to mention it. I have, of course, strong beliefs about politics and spirituality.You will not find them here This is because I assume you do as well. Either we agree or disagree on these points. If we agree any discussion will just reinforce our mutual bias and therefore accomplishes very little. If on the other hand, we disagree: I respect your ideas enough to not  to subject you to my rantings. If your opinions change, it will probably not be through this blog. I do not wish to bore or annoy you by proselytizing. There will be no petty personal attacks either. If your name or image appears on this page, I will ask you first and treat you with every courtesy.

I do promise you one thing, Gentle Reader: If you are to join me on this journey It will meander and go off in unexpected directions. I will try my hardest to keep things interesting and enjoyable for you. You can check in  here secure in the knowledge that no matter what happens, you will never be subjected to a detailed biographical account of the life of a cat.