Relationships

Art and Sex

Wednesday, May 1st, 2013

An ‘Ordinary’ Winery?

This Winery is a small leap from my house, right around a bend in the Oak tree lined road. It looks like any day at any Winery, doesn’t it?

But, maybe not.

It’s an Italian Winery, and the man and wife who own it, both in their 80’s, make fresh pizza for us in their out door brick oven.

When we come here we eat crisp pizza dripping with cheese and drink bottles of wine. Italian men play instruments on the patio and sing Italian opera for us while we overlook the grape vineyards and the great rock and grass strewn valley below.

Today, I’m here with my daughter, her husband and my 6 year old grandson and 10 year old granddaughter.

I’ve been here, before but my god, something has changed.

Look at the photo, again. Do you see anything unusual about it? No? Well. Let me show you a few things.

(more…)

Bob’s Privates

Wednesday, April 24th, 2013

This Is ‘Worried’ Bob

Bill is talking about Bob’s anal glands, again.

It’s early morning. I have just gotten up and am dozing a bit in my comfortable leather chair with the sun on my shoulders, in the sitting room. With a full coffee cup in one hand, I am easing into the day.

*Bill has come in from his Studio that’s attached to my house.

“Good morning,” he says. Then he makes a bit of cheery chit chat about the world news, which isn’t like him. Instead of just leaving me the newspaper, he is being sociable.

Standing in front of me  he says, “We need another $60 for repair of the leaf blower. I already gave the guy $30.”

I say, “Bill, this is why I like to buy quality. We get something cheap and we pay more and more when it breaks down.”

The cheap leaf blower is always breaking down. Guess who picked it out.

We have a tiny, heated discussion about the leaf blower.

When that subject gets beaten up there is silence while Bill jiggles up and down.

“I’ve been looking at replacements for the  outside chair cushions,” he says.

He goes on to remark on the colors, the stuffings, the different brands that he likes.

We have discussed this many times. He wants the cushions. I have found the cushions I like and would have ordered them a month ago if I were in charge.

Bill wants what I, as an artist, consider some ugly replacements and we have been arguing about this. Finally, I have said, “Since I’m paying for them, we are getting what I want.”

I have asked Bill a number of times to measure the 3 types of chairs and then I will order the cushions. I have been leaving this to him as the whole replacement thing is his idea.

Meanwhile, we are heading into the summer and are at an impasse.

I take a deep breath. No reason to be mad about a small, silly thing.

“So, we need to get Bob to the vet to squeeze his anal glands,” Bill says. (more…)

Chicken Lady & Underwear Man

Wednesday, April 10th, 2013

 

Not Chickens But Close Enough?

“Stop, Baba! Stop! I’m scared! Turn around!”

My grandkids are screaming with terror in the back seat of my car.

Too late to stop. We are climbing straight up the side of a mountain that is mainly enormous shiny boulders. Chicken Lady lives here and we have come to meet her chickens.

Eeeh gads. Even I am nervous. I haven’t expected this.

We reach a small plateau surrounded by more Straight Up. I park the car. This is the place. We all get out and we are leaning forwards so we can stay upright.

There is an old house up the grade aways and behind and beside us and in front of us are long, slung together chicken sheds.

Around us, beside us and in front of us run big goats and baby goats, loose chickens and cats.

An old woman dressed in overalls slides down the mountain towards us.

It’s Chicken Lady!

Loch who is 6, is looking at the ground around his feet which is littered with  small, moist brown balls. The balls are arranged in artistic scattered piles and lines, as far as we can see.

Loch says to Chicken Lady, “What is that stuff?”

Chicken Lady puts down a bucket and  says, “It’s goat poop.”

Loch winces, cries out and tries to dance around and away from it.

Chicken Lady looks at me and says, “Where is he from?”

I say he lives at the Coast and they don’t have goat manure there.

We tilt our heads back and look up. More goats are climbing the rocks and the mountain. I am trying to keep my balance by flailing my arms and moving my feet.

Chicken Lady suggests we meet the chickens. We turn and slide down the hill and kind of roll into one of the vast sheds. The sunlit sheds contain all kinds of chickens that are roaming at will. There’s also a lot of goats in here.

The kids are impressed.

A big, gold goat comes trotting up to Loch, stops and stands in front of him and pees a massive pee.

Loch points and yells, “What’s that!?”

Chicken Lady looks surprised and disgusted at his question.

“It’s a goat peeing,” she says.

Loch screams and backs away, going into a ragged wail of fake crying.

“What’s the matter with you?” Chicken Lady says.

She stares at him and says, “Everything poops and everything pees. Get used to it.”

This is our day at the chicken ‘ranch.’

As we climb into the car to leave, Chicken Lady sidles up to me and asks if I think the kid will ever be normal. I say that I hope so. That I am trying to teach Loch about Real Life Beyond The Cosmopolitan Coast.

We say ‘Good-bye’ and ‘thanks,’ to Chicken Lady. Then we slam our car doors, kick the red car into gear and slide it down the mountain, leaving (I’m sorry to say) Chicken Lady in a great whirl of dust and tiny stones. The kids yell, “Go faster Baba! Go faster!” (more…)


contact me now to get a reading CONTACT NOW