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Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Thursday, Nov. 13, 2003 - 9:52 p.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

The Sleep Tyrant

My god, I am SO TIRED! I absolutely cannot believe how demotivating being tired is. I am sure the rest of you who never get enough sleep are just going whaaaa??? The same way that people who toke up all day and then go around having a fulltime job and a social life etc etc look at me when I take one toke and go whoa, let me just veg here and watch the flames in the fireplace zzz i am so stoned.

Yup, I did get up early enough to go to the Salon de Livre, but I managed to walk the dog for 20 mins instead of an hour, and so reset my alarm for 11am instead of 10:30. I had a hell of a time falling asleep... I was still awake at 6am despite valiant attempts to doze off before. And I kept waking up in a panic haze, hovering between clear dream and hazy reality, every couple of hours going "i've overslept!!" ... and I'd think... no, it is still dark, really it's only 6:30 am... SLEEP already!!. ack.

So, had breakfast, got dressed, walked the dog, read emails, all before I left the house at noon. But then I missed the bus by a smidgen (the bus is on a perpendicular street, the busstop right on the corner, hidden by a building)... unknown to me sauntering along, the bus was already at the stop, waiting for the light to change green. It did, just as I saw the bus. I waved and shouted and ran, but the guy drove by... so close I couldve touched him. Despite my umbrella and horrid cold rain, I ran behind it to the next stop. Same scenario. Wench nearly arrives and light turns green. Bus takes off.

So then I am too hot, head is too cold and wet, and there are NO taxies around... I walked about 15 minutes in the rain until I got to the hospital where I thought there would be taxis. No. So I had to phone one. Of course as I'm standing there waiting for the taxi, the next bus goes by on the other side of the street. When my taxi did arrive, the guy didnt seem to know where Place Bonaventure was, and was peeved I didnt know the street address. Aaagh, I was planning to go by metro, which has no street address, coming up from the bowels of the earth into the very center of said building. Well, we found it anyways. Yay.

I did find where I was supposed to be, and was even on time. Though 12$ poorer. Always a pain to have bus tickets on you, and have to shell out cash anyways.

Not a soul wanted me to sign a book, though I did sign bookmarks from other books for 4 children. I drew one small dog, one big dog, one small cat and one big cat. How's that for no sleep, rushing in the rain, 12$ taxi, and now tired all day? agh. Both the editor and I have decided mutually not to go tomorrow. The books are there at the stand anyways, and we were valiantly present there today. So there. He said other artists and writers have told him this is on par. Yes, it's true. But at least when the table is on a high traffic corner, and I start drawing little animals on the back of bookmarks for kids, even though they couldnt give a damn who I am, they still get drawn, and I get a lineup of "me too, I want an animal too!", which is gratifying.

My editor says that sitting alone at a table at the Salon du Livre makes us humble. Hell, like I need humble. My therapist is so thrilled with my book accomplishments. I said shit, yeah, some people like the books. If they disappeared from the market, maybe 3 of my friends or relatives would notice cuz they had sought them out. Everyone else would just be happy with the selection already available in the bookstore. I also told her, it's the books people appreciate not me. I could drop dead and probably be rotting and eaten by my hungry dog and cats for a week before anyone wondered why I hadnt returned phone calls.Yup, I give it a week minimum. Maybe two weeks. And once I was dead, people who read the books I draw to my kids would still read them to their kids. They wouldnt miss me.

I mean really, I totally admire many writers and illustrators, but do they even know I exist? Do I add to their life happiness? Do I call them and say "hey, loved your book"? Can they count on me if they are lonely or if they fall down in their apartment and can't get to a phone? No. I think I am humble enough. I draw books cuz editors hope to get grants and sales and maybe even awards if they hire me. And because I need to earn a living. Not because there is this great clamoring for my work from the public. i even offer to friends while I'm working on a book that they can come over and see the originals while I have them at home still. They don't come. Sometimes they will say "ok" and follow me into the studio when I offer (beg??!! ) to show some new drawing to them when they are over for some other reason (like to borrow my massage table). Then i sort of feel like a little kid bugging mom "lookit what i made lookit what i made...". oh well. humble yeah i need humble.

Well, this was actually supposed to be an entry on tired not humble. I can't believe how not enough sleep floors me. I came home and had a nap. Doggies was whining, so I got up and took her for a walk since she went out so early. I was worried she needed to go again since I had disrupted her routine. Then I ate, looked at emails, and had another nap. I got up and got dressed for flamenco, but felt so dead and tired, that by the time I put my coat on and realized it was raining so I'd have to walk instead of biking, I took off the clothes and slept again. And didnt get up til 9:20. What the hell is the point of getting up early if I am going to get NOTHING done all day. One hour "signing" books. hah.

Well, maybe I'll still get partly changed around for my sleep schedule so it will not all be for naught. I would like to be getting up at 11:30 or noon. That means getting to bed by 4am. hah. I'll try. But damn I hate tired. And now i'll have to go Tues as well as Thurs next week to make up my flamenco class. I missed the next steps of Carmen!! Sad. I love my flamenco class. Tells you what a tyrant my body is when it needs sleep. Yeah, maybe I'll adopt some little kids. hah.

It is cold out. brr. wet. very very windy. brr.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009

 

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