Not all the time, just some of the time. Once was a time where I could go out and be anonymous. I could roam about, mind my own business and it would be as though I was merely part of the scenery. I didn’t have to be on my guard…aside from the occasional feral cat.
But now, it’s as if my days of hiding in the chorus and merely mouthing the words to the song are long gone. I have to be a main player, whether I feel like performing or not. I almost always need to be on top of my game, have the song and dance memorized because if I don’t, I let someone down. As much of a selfish squirrel that I think I am, there’s still a bit of me that hates letting someone down. It costs nothing to be polite and friendly.
So that’s what I do. Disguises hide nothing. Still like them, but they hide nothing.
I like simple. Know why? Because simple isn’t complicated. Complicated takes time and time is something I’m not overly willing to waste. Why use 50 words to say something when the right 5 words can do just as good a job? Why is it that when we want to be perceived as intelligent or smart or whatever… we have to make simplicity into something so intricate that you lose track of the beginning in the middle?
Simple is hard. Simple is complicated. Simple is in many ways infinitely more complicated than complication could ever hope to be. If simple were simple there’d be no need for complicated. There’d also be very little point in going above and beyond anything.
I know it seems weird. But that’s what makes it so simple.
Are facts and the truth really the same thing? Einstein was probably more concerned with his theory than the truth. But, he needed the truth, facts to prove that what he was thinking was correct. He depended on concrete to prove his jello wasn’t just jello. Without the concrete, well, you get the idea.
But, if the concrete he had wasn’t gonna make what he wanted… if it wasn’t going to set hard enough, he needed to find the concrete that would. So, just because something isn’t as it seems with what’s in front of you, it doesn’t mean that seeming can’t be believing. Keep working at it… keep researching… but also know when the point to stop is reached. If you waste your time looking for something to prove what seems, you’ve lost.
There are many, many more of these guidelines… and in reality, they should be written in pencil for easier amending. I rather like to think of them as roadsigns…little bits of guidance as you make your way through the twists and turns.
I know there’s really nothing abundantly new on this list that hasn’t been thought about, shared, discussed or ignored before. These are just the guidelines I feel help me. Yes, I am a squirrel that keeps a journal… you’re reading part of it now.
But what do I know, I’m just a squirrel. Please share this with someone you think could use a little guidance.
This messy place is where creation takes place. It sounds religious… but it’s not. It’s spiritual.
This is what Frank sits before nearly every single day. Sometimes, this is a place of joy, other times there is just the sound of a head thudding against white masonite. That ruler you see has been with Frank for nearly 20 years. He never misses an opportunity to tell me where he got it…1994, Central Avenue, Albany, NY. A mom and pop office supply store that is long gone. It was one of those places that had inventory piled from floor to ceiling and aisles that barely allowed a single body room to navigate it. He needed it for an art class… never thought it’d still be with him years later. “This thing was made to outlast me. So far, we’re even.”
He loves it here. This is the same board he’s had for 11 years. The ink splotches in the lower right hand corner have been layered and layered to the point where they are currently 1/4 of an inch high. I’m not sure if that’s cool or a waste of ink.
The pen holder above the ink splotches is nothing but old dirty kneaded eraser. Too sticky to use on drawings, but perfect to act as a gravity inhibitor for pens. (the board is set at a slight angle.)
On the left hand side, there’s the light box. He doesn’t use this as much as he once did…most likely because he draws relatively fast now…trusting his instinct more and sketching less.
The pens, pencils and markers? They come and go as tools grow worn or run out of ink.
He’s had that pencil sharpener for 10 years too. Although that has recently been replaced. The new one sharpens faster and better, but it still will take some getting used to.
This is his altar. His most favorite corner of the world. I respect it. I wish I had something as special as he has in this well worn place. It’s beautiful.
There are times when you can pinpoint the cause of depression, sometimes not so much. It could be one little trigger… a candy wrapper crumbled on the floor, a leaf floating past a window you just happened to be looking out of, who knows?
Even if you could pinpoint what un-pressed you to begin with, what does that change? Do you immediately feel euphoric? Probably not. Sometimes you just have to ride it out.
So you avoid candy wrappers and looking out windows on windy days…then what? If you don’t know what will trigger the next wave, how can you avoid anything? You can’t… just ride it out. It’ll all work out.