Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Contort and Distort

Beautiful day and sculpture Key West had a great installation. A large bumpy mirror right on the beach and it mesmerized me as I stood watching the water contort.

Had some fun and started to feel like I was creating mini abstract paintings with my form thrown in, which I plan on doing later.

Walked along the beach with the water lapping at my feet screaming for me to get in. Floating and stretching in it, I let the soothing waves push me around and welcome me home.

Contort and Distort

Friday, March 27, 2009

One Coconut Redeems Mankind

The pier dudes strike again. I really love those guys. 

There has been a level of burn out pulsating through my veins. The onslaught of spring breakers is good but there has been a disturbing trend among them - the bubble.

People living in their own bubble like structures to obscure reality from the brain. It is part vacation brain and part invisible shell. They have no awareness of what goes on around them including other people. You search for some spark of life in their eyes, some chance of real connection but there is none unless it relates to the bubble they're in. I had given up looking for that spark of life until a pier guy gave me a coconut today.

Just sitting reading my library book when a smiling man walked over and handed me said coconut. He said I looked like I was local but he thought he'd give me a coconut anyway. 

I smiled, told him we've met once before and thanked him for it. Really looking at each other. Finally. 

"Do you know how to crack open a coconut?" he inquired. "Why no, I don't. How do you do it? I asked, excited to have new knowledge.

He took the coconut from my hands, pointed to the three holes that look like a face. "Here's the mouth and it's where you break in to get the juice." Shaking it near his ear looking towards me, he said "Can you hear that? There's a lot of juice in there."  

"After you suck out all the juice through the mouth, you break it open with a screwdriver or something sharp and eat the rest." He smiled his presentation now complete. While he talked I watched the excited look in his face and scanned his wonderfully beat up hands. His weather worn fingers, scars, cuts, and dirt were beautiful. Real.

"I think I met Suzy the squawker the other day. You had told me about her when I first met you." I said. He started to ask me if I saw her snaggletooth and pointed in a direction with a scared grimace.

"Uh, I meant the bird. Are you talking about the real Suzy?" I asked. He smiled and said, "Yup. She's real scary!" We both laughed.

I sat admiring the coconut after he walked away. What a simple thing, such a kind gesture and it made me the happiest I've been all week. 

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

An Old Loaf of Bread = Fun

Took an old loaf of bread down to the pier and made bird patterns in the sky. The first time I looked up, I let out a little scream cause they were so close.

I think I met "Suzy the Squawker" affectionately named after one of the pier guy's ex girlfriends. She was squawking and biting the other birds, gobbling up all the bread she could. I would definitely be afraid to meet the actual Suzy after seeing that bird. She was one loud, greedy little beyotch.


Thursday, March 19, 2009

Act Your Age

Act your age. That's all I can think in this past month or so.
You probably think I'm talking about the 20 somethings that migrate down here this time of year for spring break. Nope, I'm talking about the middle aged adults. I am surrounded by them in my compound and beyond and they're borderline idiots. Think all the people who go shopping the day after Thanksgiving. One night last week I heard a middle-ager brag to a friend over the phone how they got so drunk and watched the Food channel all night long. 

Then of course there was the 2am wake up call from a Fargoesque sounding middle aged Midwestern woman yammering on about something to her equally drunken adult friends. A quick scream of "SHUT THE HELL UP!" cured it.

On the other hand the 20 somethings are a pleasure to around. Some of the most polite, nicest, 20-year olds I have ever met. I was never that polite at their age as I think to myself while being surrounded by them in town. I'm currently meeting more 22 year-old guys than when I was actually a 22 year old myself. They're too frickin' cute. Just like cute little puppies. Chiseled, hairless puppies. 

One came in this week with his parents for dinner. My manager gave me the table since he was good eye candy. "Your future ex-husband at table 12." he said as he directed me to take the table. 

He was a tall drink of water but the thing that stunned me more was how articulate and polite he was. I carded him cause it's that time of year and plus I wanted to see how old he was (22). Afterwards my manager swung by the table fully enjoying the show and said "Don't think you're special cause she cards everyone." 

The polite hunk looked a little disappointed and sheepishly said "Oh, I thought I was lucky." I responded with a flirty "Oh, you are lucky." which got a happy surprised look from him and subsequently a different surprised look from his mom sitting to his left. It took me a split second to gather where I was and what I was doing when I began to reel it in a bit after thinking this was a bad after school special. Hitting on a younger guy with his mom sitting at the table. Nice. Woo Hooo YO, Spring Break '09!!

Next up on Sunday, I was working the snorkel boat for a group of 20 somethings out for the day. Waiting again for the stereotypical yahoo spring breakers, I was surprised at how damn nice they were. They were even free diving and just out enjoying nature. One of the boys was looking for a place to lay down cause he had a "rough night". I told him to make sure he drinks lots of water since being on a boat isn't exactly where you want to be feeling sick. He immediately said "Oh yeah! Thanks!" and guzzled it down like a good boy should. Most adults wave me off when I suggest it and then puke all over the side about 20 minutes later. These kids are freaking me out.
While tying up the boat, I was leaning over the front trying to hook the mooring line. There's no bar to protect me from falling in but it's pretty easy. I started to lean over to reach down when I caught one of the boys running over to grab the back of my shirt. He looked a little freaked out and then I realized, he was worried I was about to fall in and was trying to keep it from happening. He kept holding onto my shirt until, I turned back, smiled and told him I was ok. TOO CUTE. Seriously.
Talked to one of them on the way back and he asked me where to go in town and if I'd be out later. While these boys are real cutie patooties, I have lived my 20's and don't feel the need to go back there. I find myself thinking of the partying middle aged adults who are acting exactly like I would expect the 20 somethings to. 

Drinking all day, stumbling down streets, and hysterically crying about the AIG implosion like it was a bad breakup. All this done in their way too tight halter tops showing off the 20 something perky made fake boobs. It's pathetic.

I watched Superbad the other night. I haven't seen it since I saw in the theater a couple of years ago and it made me laugh so hard I was snorting. That was my spring break experience. The stupid situations you get yourself into to trying to get your hands on alcohol but unfortunately minus the McLovin'. 

Panama City was my spring break destination and I got there with a group of friends who crammed themselves into a very small car. We got thrown out of every place down there cause a majority of us didn't have fake ID's and were sneaking in. Had some really strange situations including getting stuck in a once in a lifetime Alabama snowstorm and a whole multitude of good stupid stories. 

Since I was always pretending to be who my ID was, I decided to take it up a notch and start creating different people I could be when I met guys at bars. My favorite one was Darla the New Jersey cosmetology student who's favorite movie was Milo and Otis. "You know, the one about the cat and the dog?" I said in my best New York accent. That's the way it should be in your 20's, you gotta get that shit out of your system otherwise it shows up later.

Which is exactly what I'm seeing with our tourist adults. I'm over it. You can't relive your youth. Deal with it. Stop running around in outfits you shouldn't be wearing drinking yourself into oblivion, it's not attractive in fact it's sad. This whole economic bullshit is because of this very notion - placing all your eggs in one basket and waiting until the end to live your life. Live it now, goddamn it - In the moment. You can't be 25 again you gotta be happy with where you're at now.

On a trip out to Hawaii a couple of years ago, I talked to an old man while I was waiting for the bathroom. He was making his first trip out there and standing in the galley cause he just couldn't sit anymore. He told me he should have done it when he was younger. He had waited till the end of his life to travel like this but now his body couldn't take it. He said "You're smart to do this now. Do it now while you can - don't wait." Let me tell you, it definitely made an impression. I want to do everything I can now. I don't want to wait till the end. Especially seeing the aftereffects of waiting and not being satisfied with the end result. It ain't pretty.

I cruise home after a chill night of work. My aging tourist neighbors are still drinking around the pool which started in earlier this morning. "How was work tonight?" they ask."Slow but that's cool. It's better than dealing with the crazy spring breakers." I replied. They ask me how it has been and I share with them that it's not the 20 year olds who are the obnoxious ones, it's the middle aged adults. They had a look of shock on their faces and one of them said  "Aw, come on!" 

I looked at them seeing what I had been seeing the last two weeks. Smiled, shrugged then took a sip out of my beer bottle while walking back to my cottage.

Come on 20 year olds it's time to unleash your inner McLovin'. You know you want to and it's for your own damn good.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Spring Break '09

THAT is not MY poop.

Nice tail.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Online Art Supplies

It's Thursday. The daily routine has been re-implemented after a quick visit from the parents. Spring break is in full swing (more on that later).

After the wax workshop, I was jonesin' for some new materials to work with and wouldn't you know it, a delivery showed up just in the knick of time. Yes, I have discovered what could be a potential land mine - online art supplies. Besides that, I find Gilda's Flower shop is my vice of the moment. Walking into a flower cooler and buying art supplies is my crack.

I had been looking for a desk to buy but now all that money will be funneled online since work supplied a great wine box for me to paint on instead.

What up Daddio?

Twitch. Twitch.

Being a wino pays off.

Oh yeah.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Pour some wax on me.


It's not just for dinner tables and fetishes - you can paint with it too!

Today was the Encaustic Painting workshop at the Studios of Key West. Otherwise known as how to paint with wax on griddles. So fun.

An ancient technique used by Egyptians and Greek people on mummy tombs. You have resin, colored wax that you push down on a pancake griddle. The griddle is your palate to mix and blend colors. In between that you can scrape and layer, collage and then fill in more color with oil sticks. Oh and don't forget the hot gun to blend or fuse (it's a fancy hair dryer).

It was a day to get dirty and my hands are now multicolored and will look great serving food tonight.

Got to explore all kinds of fun stuff and just play. My only complaint was when the power went out. It happened just as everyone turned on their respective hot guns and afterwards we were all crouched around one or two griddles. It still was fun though cause everyone got to know each other and ask questions about technique.

Tio continues to be an inspiration for me as you can see. When I was painting around his head from this picture of our trip to the Picos de Europa, a fellow student asked in a weird way: "You know that guy???"

I just laughed and said "Oh yeah." mostly thinking of our death defying trip up and down the mountain that day and then I couldn't stop laughing randomly the rest of the afternoon. Extreme sports should have a 'driving with a 92 year old relative at the wheel' category.

Someone else came by and said "He looks SO cerebral.". That caused memories to flood in of me and him arguing politics, about how one can eat bananas for a full year or why he can't drive on the sidewalk.

All in all a great day.

(If you want to see Tio in action - check out My Splog)

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The Cheetos Dilema

Full moon madness and Facebook suicide. It's been a good week so far and it's only Wednesday.

Oh the beauty of a full moon gives us all quite a show of human neurosis in one full punch. Human nature illuminated by a big pocked-faced glowing globe in the sky. It's entertaining and all free. I seriously gauge people's level of sanity by that moon. Today I looked up and saw it's looming fullness coming. I will judge tonight's level of emotional
retardedness by the crescent I saw today.

You can start to see the effects of a full moon by how people react to other people. Today, it's getting a blank eyed stare from what I believe was a vacationing
Midwestern couple after almost backing my bike into them. I didn't see them the way I was facing and gave a friendly smile and along with an "Oops, sorry!". The response was a death star stare like I was an alien life-force with glow in the dark snot.

The full moon is felt a lot more intensely down here. Makes sense for an island surrounded by water and a moon gravitationally controlling water based beings. You can see the effects about about a week out from a full on full moon and by the time you've realized it - it's too late. Thinking this I quickly flashed to Monday night at work.

It's been unusually cold and on Monday evening while covering an ailing co-worker's shift, the inside dining room fills up all at one time in about the span of four minutes. While I walk amongst the crowded guests settling them in with drinks, I can quickly feel all eyes bore into the back of my skull as a reminder that everyone wants their attention needs fulfilled. It was an odd feeling since no one was said anything but instead just stared intently whenever I visited another table like "When am I going to get mine?" That's just freaky.

Mid-juggle, I wigged out a bit because tiptoeing into that room made me feel like I was a caged animal fully aware of the possible slaughter that had yet to come.

People really want your attention. They NEED to be seen. I never quite understood this because if you're already in the company of someone you want to spend time with, what else matters?

So out comes the survival stroking and
everyone's happy. Since all of the people sat at the same time it's a friggin' feel good orgy. What is survival stroking? Imagine scratching a dog's butt in a place where the furry guy can't reach on their own. If you hit the right spot their head slowly points towards the sky, a leg manically kicks and maybe a tongue licks the air. It's essentially the same thing with customers. You gotta find the right spot and all within 5 seconds of meeting them. It's the seventh sense.

A fellow co-worker and I discussed the other day how waiting tables, in all it's
bizarre encounters, can keep you coming back for more. There are several reasons but the main one is it's a nightly study of the human psyche up close and personal.

Even at it's height of crazy, face to face with people still has that something that virtual life just cannot replicate. Must be why I decided to commit
Facebook suicide this week. I had already been thinking about closing my account and then I saw a comment from one of my Facebook friends that solidified it. In her status update she questioning defensively about how can someone claim you're on Facebook too much. Uh, that's an easy one, you're status is updated every 20 minutes and you place every picture you have known to man on it. Yup, it's officially time to quit.

Facebook is not for me. I admit it was really nice to quickly check in on my friends, see pics and what's going on with them but it always felt somewhat lacking. I much prefer the stopping by a friend's house to catch up or talking to someone so engrossed in conversation that you don't even realize it's 4am. That's the good stuff.

It's the difference between eating a really hearty meal vs picking up some Cheetos at the corner store. You're craving something, you know you need to stop but it's a hell of a lot easier to pick up a bag. You start to do it on a constant basis, feel like shit and wonder why you're fingers are
permanently orange.

I click to close my account. All of the sudden, profile pictures of friends pop up with messages saying
"Are you sure? Ryan will miss you. Mo will miss you. Jay will miss you."

Nice... Virtual guilt. I've had the plenty of the real stuff - the good Catholic kind - this is
nothin'. Click. Is it over?

"Please tell us why you want to leave?"

Shit, really?

"Yes. Please pick one : a) I don't have the time. b) I spend too much time on the computer. c) I'm ignoring my real life. d) relationship problems. or e) other.

God damn, you are
friggin' nosy. I pick "e) other" and click. The same screen pops up again and I click "other" yet again until I notice a message at the bottom:

"Please provide a written explanation in the box below."

I thought "other" WAS my
explanation. I start to think about how to explain why I want to leave and an easy way to condense the analysis of this experiment in one measly little box. And then it comes to me.

"I don't need to explain it but if you want to know, come find me and I'll tell you in person."