I'm not really sure where I want to go with this entry, but I feel like posting something.

Should I post about the days getting longer?

  • It is the time of the year when one begins to notice the days getting longer.  Spring is approaching.  I find this time of year to be particularly frustrating because we get glimpses of what warmer weather could be like, only to have the door slammed in our collective faces the next day.

Should I post about my upcoming exhibition?

  • I have my first solo show next month.  It wasn't supposed to be a solo show.  The other person who was supposed to exhibit with me decided she didn't want to do it, so now I have to prepare more work.  It's a mixed blessing, really.  I'm into the whole solo show thing, but preparing more work costs more money that I should be spending on other things.  If you are free on March 27, you should come by the opening.  It's at the Transformatorhuis in Enschede.  I will have more info to share with you in the future.  

Should I post about other big news?

  • No.  It's top secret shit.

Should I post about my burgeoning freelance career?

  • Burgeoning would be a bit of an overstatement.  I've had a few jobs, and I am grateful for them, but it is a seriously crowded field, and I'm not sure how long it will take me to get enough work to sustain myself.  

Should I post about my plans for tonight?

  • Tonight I will be going to Theater Zuidplein to was a video made by Erik van Lieshout.  I have done a bit of work for him, and I am a fan of his work.  You should go if you don't have anything to do.  Here is a link to the information.

I need to eat something.  I'll talk to you later.



As you may know, I was in CT in December taking care of my grandmother for awhile.  She is super old, and has dementia.  Also, she doesn't hear very well, so I spent a lot of time writing things down so we could communicate.  I'm not sure if she was messing with me or not, but on occasion she claimed that she couldn't read my handwriting, so I typed some stuff on the laptop.  I just found a text file from one of those conversations.  I'm not sure if anyone else will find this amusing, but here are some one sided excerpts from one of our conversations.  These are all things that I said.  The spaces between each line  are where she would have said something:

do you like your new cookies?

you were eating them before.  they're in a can in your room.

they are dutch.  like marlane (*sic)

she's a good egg.

*marleen's name is spelled M A R L E E N, but it would have taken too much energy to explain that E is pronounced differently in Dutch.  Also, she would forget that I explained it, and would keep asking me over and over and over again.

if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

you're doing it again.


tell me about it.

no, but we will have a daughter named florence.

it's going to be awesome.

so good.




we're on vacation

we'll be here for a week or so.  

so get ready…

for us.  

just be prepared.  

you'll know when the time comes.  

sometimes greatness is thrust upon us.  

there's enough of me to go around.  


i already heated it up once.  you have to drink faster.  

do you want to go to your room?  it's warmer in there.


Maybe i'll make a movie out of that material.  An animation?  Hmmm.
Oh yeah, here's an explanation about the whole Florence thing.  Gram's name is Florence.  One of the effects of dementia is that she forgets what she has said, yet she seems to have the same thoughts over and over again.  She always asks me if I'm married.  Then she asks if I have kids.  Then she asks, "Why Not?!"  She follows that up with, "If you ever have a daughter, you have to name her Florence."  So, now I will often beat her to the punch, and just flat out tell her that if we ever have a daughter we will name her Florence.   

I think it's funny that she's so obsessed with naming people as a tribute to others.  My mother is named Alberta.  Gram's brother's name was Albert.  My uncle's name was Thomas (after his father, my grandfather), but somehow he earned the nickname Buddy, which was also the nickname of my grandfather's sister, Bernardine (sp?).  I always knew her as Aunt Buddy because that is what my mother called her.  Her husband's name was William, or "Bill".  Would you care to guess what my other uncle's name is? 

Another funny aside, my uncle, Buddy (not Uncle Buddy), never wanted to be referred to as Uncle Buddy.  When I was a small child, he would call me Nephew Jimmy whenever I called him Uncle Buddy.  Likewise, he called my sister Niece Tara.  Shit is funny.  I miss that guy.

Okay, that's all I've got right now.