Wait. Before you wind up your 21st century trope assessor® into an indict tizzy, please note that the title to the painting is literal—no double entendre here. I want to tape her mouth shut, in three places. A long horizontal strip across the lips, and two ends stuck vertically to hold the longer one in place all night long. It’s the only affordable way to insure a night of zero mouth-breathing. She won’t snore through her nose, and onset sleep apnea, along with most of its 6 billion dollar “treat the symptoms” industry, goes bye-bye like tooth decay from a daily flossing and brushing regimen.
Now that you're finishing up that painting residency, do you want to come paint MY residence?
Somebody told me, about 20 years ago, that the reward for volunteering one's time and treasure was the way it made US feel.
I agree with that, to a certain moment in time; it is that moment when we realize that we are as "fulfilled" in that regard as is necessary. After that, we are, as Mr. Capp's "Shmoos"--gladly sacrificing ourselves for the indignoranti's misinfotainment.
Ha, the business art of diminishing returns! I gave some to others, yeah, a little bit... But so much umph got pulled out of me. Not getting paid in money seemed to nurture a public freedom. I did what I wanted, and it was always gravy to the organization because it was better than being closed, and I didn’t set the place on fire. Whitman got a poem from unrequited love. I got lots and lots of paintings out of indifferent society:) And they had to watch the whole time!
The same person, btw, who said that to me--about volunteerism--also said that various studies had shown that 3% of most organizations such as churches and other fantasy clubs of that sort are those who volunteer. 97% pretend that they're somehow involved in the exercise.
I just don’t like the word “volunteer” because of the unnecessary nod made to the absence of “money”, as if the latter had any say with movement of our arms and legs, circulation of blood, breathing of air, making art, love, cheese on a hot day. I don’t volunteer to be a father, and I never got paid for it. But enormous wealth is earned from the process. Money was definitely a facilitator. I “volunteered” at line cooking because it paid me to buy good books for my daughters and put a chicken in the pot on Saturdays. Rose volunteered her time and expertise to work a corporate job because it gave her a group sense of belonging and lots of money to afford food, shelter and fuel for a family of baby birds. I volunteered at the Art Association because I got a heated room above ground to practice my art for free.
I know that I worked with more gusto and determination than many people who earn six figure salaries. I have to live with that. And I do, gratefully. I didn’t sacrifice a thing by not using my time to make money. I believe I became a better person unto me because I got more useful to myself. Even if all the effort just added to the plot of my SELF as a useful fiction.
People give themselves constantly. Some take the money when they can:) Others, like me, “volunteer” to be a financial zero.
Remind me to tell you a moderately longwinded story about, "The church of many colors", someday soon...
Someone told me, just about 50 years ago to the day, that my poetry was not a lot different from many people's thinking; it was just, he said, that I wrote it down. I told him that might be true--but, otoh, I did that for free.
The notion that the great patrons of the arts selflessly donate some of their obscene wealth in exchange for getting their name on the award, activity or edifice that the money pays for is unmitigated nonsense. People who are like that don't GET things named after them until they pony up the Benjamins, Clevelands or Chases (Extant images on U.S. highdollah currency). The Walton family didn't become patrons of the arts until they were rich. Me? I've been a patron/mendicant of the arts, since my memory kicked in.
I will now return to my mostly unscheduled life...
Now that you're finishing up that painting residency, do you want to come paint MY residence?
Somebody told me, about 20 years ago, that the reward for volunteering one's time and treasure was the way it made US feel.
I agree with that, to a certain moment in time; it is that moment when we realize that we are as "fulfilled" in that regard as is necessary. After that, we are, as Mr. Capp's "Shmoos"--gladly sacrificing ourselves for the indignoranti's misinfotainment.
Ha, the business art of diminishing returns! I gave some to others, yeah, a little bit... But so much umph got pulled out of me. Not getting paid in money seemed to nurture a public freedom. I did what I wanted, and it was always gravy to the organization because it was better than being closed, and I didn’t set the place on fire. Whitman got a poem from unrequited love. I got lots and lots of paintings out of indifferent society:) And they had to watch the whole time!
The same person, btw, who said that to me--about volunteerism--also said that various studies had shown that 3% of most organizations such as churches and other fantasy clubs of that sort are those who volunteer. 97% pretend that they're somehow involved in the exercise.
Makes sense.
I just don’t like the word “volunteer” because of the unnecessary nod made to the absence of “money”, as if the latter had any say with movement of our arms and legs, circulation of blood, breathing of air, making art, love, cheese on a hot day. I don’t volunteer to be a father, and I never got paid for it. But enormous wealth is earned from the process. Money was definitely a facilitator. I “volunteered” at line cooking because it paid me to buy good books for my daughters and put a chicken in the pot on Saturdays. Rose volunteered her time and expertise to work a corporate job because it gave her a group sense of belonging and lots of money to afford food, shelter and fuel for a family of baby birds. I volunteered at the Art Association because I got a heated room above ground to practice my art for free.
I know that I worked with more gusto and determination than many people who earn six figure salaries. I have to live with that. And I do, gratefully. I didn’t sacrifice a thing by not using my time to make money. I believe I became a better person unto me because I got more useful to myself. Even if all the effort just added to the plot of my SELF as a useful fiction.
People give themselves constantly. Some take the money when they can:) Others, like me, “volunteer” to be a financial zero.
Thanks for all your great input Terry!
Remind me to tell you a moderately longwinded story about, "The church of many colors", someday soon...
Someone told me, just about 50 years ago to the day, that my poetry was not a lot different from many people's thinking; it was just, he said, that I wrote it down. I told him that might be true--but, otoh, I did that for free.
The notion that the great patrons of the arts selflessly donate some of their obscene wealth in exchange for getting their name on the award, activity or edifice that the money pays for is unmitigated nonsense. People who are like that don't GET things named after them until they pony up the Benjamins, Clevelands or Chases (Extant images on U.S. highdollah currency). The Walton family didn't become patrons of the arts until they were rich. Me? I've been a patron/mendicant of the arts, since my memory kicked in.
I will now return to my mostly unscheduled life...