Archive for the ‘Nic’ Category

four days in late April

Monday, May 1st, 2017

Thursday ~ Cared for Mombo at the Hall, and she was trying to shake off some cold symptoms. Joan got home as early as possible, so I could get back to Danville for drinks and dinner with the visiting brothers Andrew and Rory from South Africa, along with local friends (Lee and David with granddaughter). The owner of the Bluegrass Pizza Pub invited us to draw on the wall with chalk, but only Zoey and I took him up on it. I cannot remember ever being uncomfortable with a piece of chalk in my hand, which stimulates a direct, electromagnetic current to my imagination. Nor can I recall life before my chalkboard career, as a matter of fact. Like clockwork, Scott V turned 65 first today, but, for some reason, I haven’t reached out yet.

Friday ~ Spent a lot of time monitoring the stock market and setting up trades. Made a trip to Minuteman Press to arrange for the printing of the Carol & Bob portraits. The happy image was taken by someone at a Band Fest picnic years ago, but I have no recollection who it was — a total mystery. We watched the first disc of The Wire, Season Three. So far, there doesn’t seem to be any new ground being broken, but it always fascinates me to observe Dominic West’s acting, and the way he projects different characters without saying anything. I am still reading the new biography of Heston (Hollywood’s Last Icon), and the same basic sense of the great man is reinforced. Loaded with photos from his family archives. The first time I immersed myself in Heston, I was influenced by his values and principles. This time I am struck more with his stubborn refusal to allow personal, professional, or societal obstacles to remain unchallenged. Late in the evening I spent time on the phone with both Marty and Terie, trying to defuse another domestic flare-up. I believe they have exhausted their ability to live with each other at this point in their lives, and I can only trust them to resolve it and not let it spill over to affect those who love them.

Saturday ~ Up at 6am to go get a free load of compost from the city (out at their farm off Standford Road). Spent the rest of the morning working on the Town House yard, fueled by Subway’s new Keurig unit. Not a bad way to spend my birthday so far. We had a relaxing afternoon with early drinks, hot baths, and general sweetness. And then it was time to head to Lexington in search of Moules et Frites. We were early (imagine that), so we stopped into a pub to have a Belgian Red Ale. I was pleasantly surprised by its refreshingly dry, tart, slightly apple-vinegar quality, and it hit the spot better than a typical brew. Dana was still hobbling from her basement-stairs mishap, so we were moving a bit slow, but all went well. The moules marinière at Le Deauville were perhaps the tastiest mussels I have ever enjoyed, enhanced by an exceptional New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. I had crossed the line of no return into Medicare and hit the pillow hard when we arrived home.

Sunday ~ We had our typical brunch-with-morning-political-news-shows, and the exasperating scene in Washington, DC continues. Politicians are unwilling to forge anything balanced enough to anger everyone in the country, except for the few who remember what a compromise actually looks and sounds like. The problem is that most citizens who care are convinced that compromise will not actually solve anything and they want their side to hold sway. It hardens the polarity and ensures another pendulum swing. It is a pathological state. The rhetorical downtrend deepens. And, of course, many troubling problems such as health care only get worse. Later in the day we drove to Lexington to attend Drew Robertson’s graduation celebration. Dana was adequately ambulatory, but still treading very cautiously. It was a pleasant backyard bash. Mingling with extended relatives, plastic cup of iced Buffalo Trace in hand, I lost track of time and jeopardized our getting to Costco before it closed. Still feeling in the “birthday zone,” I treated myself to socks and underpants, and we finally had that misbehaving tire on the Avalon fixed.

A Training Day

Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011

walie_strip.jpg

March Exercise —day two— An early start and a full, productive day makes for a Marchesque mode, but the perceptual acuity will take a bit longer to secure. The recording session at the radio station went as well as I could have expected, convincing me that an affinity for media remains in the ol’ vessels. The positive results of Nic’s pulling two of Walie’s ruined teeth on Saturday before the Marty-Rah, and the subsequent course of treatment, are more evident by the day. She has a new level of spunk not seen in many a moon. All the little stinker wants to do is play with toys and try to slip out the back door. Causes me to regret the delay in seeking my Godson’s generous care. Also thinking of Marty today. Wish I could have some idea of what he’s gone through in his first three days of training. I can only assume that he’s tired, sore, and just a tad shell-shocked at this point.

Today’s sight bite— My disobedient pup, marching down the driveway without a leash —c-l-i-c-k— proving that spring fever can still hold sway at 13 years of age.

Tomorrow— Completion of the comprehensive checklist . . .

~ kin & kiddoes ~

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008

Everything about this past weekend reinforced my gratitude for being part of an extraordinary clan—and, Man, do we know how to party! It feels a bit dangerous to venture into the kind of entry I’m about to make, because I want to enumerate all my incredible nieces, nephews, and other loved ones, but how can I do that in a partial way? Suffice it to say, “I dig you all,” and I’ll never get enough of a kick out of this extended family. Unfortunately, Bruce had to stay in Danville, but it made me happy to have Terie and Marty attend Nic’s wedding. You could say it was “the night Marty turned cool,” except he already had. It was fun to see how great a circle of friends have coalesced around the Bellarmine crew, including Alyx, Josh, Holly, and Boo. Something makes me think Peat is at the heart of it, and I admire her style. Like her mom, she’s the natural social companion. How nice it was to see Kay, Theresa, and Angela make the trip to Louisville for the celebration. Seth, too, is a constant source of enjoyment, and he astonished me with how considerate he was of his bewhiskered uncle moving in the midst of a bubble of twentysomethings. I urged him to stop at the studio tonight so he could take home one of my wood-block prints (Drivin’ That Train). But, perhaps more than anything, I was so pleased to see the Adkins siblings together. Joan must be indescribably proud of that trio. Caitlan snagged a job within days of jetting from England with her blade and an Oxford degree; Ian is preparing to make his ballistic arc to North Carolina in pursuit of his dream to study marine biology; and Brendan is really coming into his own as an independent talent. Wow, it seems like only yesterday they were all a tangle of squids…

adkins2008.jpg

 
 

Mic + Nic — 2008

Friday, July 11th, 2008

Michelle and Nicholas made their vows —before God, Family, Friends— in a wonderful ceremony that was “total class,” and then they partied with all of us who were fortunate enough to witness their shining love. I couldn’t be more optimistic for the future that awaits them. To my Godson and his beautiful bride—my heartfelt prayer for a shared life of joyous partnership…

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Photo by Dana; card by John.

Various & Sundry, part seventy

Tuesday, January 1st, 2008

— Month of December workout totals: Swim-2; Bike-2; Run-3; Lift-3; Yoga-8; Pilates-2

— Year of 2007 workout totals: Swim-23; Bike-58; Run-25; Lift-33; Yoga-21; Pilates-16

— This is the 70th installment of a series that has no meaning, other than it precludes me from using the word “sundry” within any other post. I was part of the Class of ’70 when I finished high school, and the seven has always been significant for me, since it’s my destiny number. This is the 763rd entry in this journal, which is a seven, since numbers always reduce to the single-digit sum for numerological analysis. For me, this is also the first day of a new year governed by the number seven. Other practitioners of numerology have marveled at the fact that Dana and I share the same annual number—not rare, but somewhat uncommon for married partners.

— The recent violent unrest in Kenya has provided days of concern for Dan and Sheryl’s Elizabeth, but word has arrived from Neil that she and her group are safe. It will be good to hear from her directly, and hopefully that will happen soon.

gbo210.jpg— I completed a twelfth work in my series of “Grandy-bo Variations,” but I won’t be including another in the current format for our Christmas exchange, because, for the past two years, my painting has ended up in the hands of a household that already had a “G-bo.” I’ve got to think of a better way to disseminate new pieces to those who haven’t received one, or switch to a medium that accommodates limited-edition printmaking for wider distribution.

(Variations on a Theme by
Grandy-bo, Part Eleven
)

— NBC lives up to its reputation for prematurely yanking some of the best dramas on TV. In the spirit of keeping profanity to a minimum at this site, I’ll let another blogger express my profound dismay.

— During my recent morgue reorganization, I came across a post card written by Dana’s father in 1932 to his younger brother. Clearly, it was one of those items we’d rescued from a spasm of “movin’ madness,” before Aunt Marian and Uncle Dick gave up their home in Dayton and moved to San Diego. The card is from the Art Institute of Chicago and depicts a Vermont landscape Rockwell Kent painted in 1921— Mount Equinox, Winter. Almost twenty years after coming into our possession, neither of us remembers how it ended up in the reference files, but we both deemed it too valuable to exclude from the family archives. I put it on the scanner earlier today, never imagining that tonight we’d stumble upon Part One of the PBS documentary about Kent that I missed seeing earlier this year. Familiar with his work as a book illustrator and wood engraver, I knew little about his paintings, nor did I have a coherent appreciation for his life as an artist and adventurer. The man certainly had his flaws (addicted to infidelity and cruel practical jokes), but, Good Lord, what an amazingly prolific creative genius!

— Well, I’d better quit. Tomorrow begins a new cycle of productivity, and 2008 should be a great year. Nic and Michelle will marry, Marty will begin to drive, Peat will finish her degree, Bruce will get a place of his own, Brendan will publish his book, and the “Bay-bo Gril” will make her way to Yorkshire Estate. Follow it all here at Uncle John’s!

V & S

Various & Sundry, part sixty-nine

Thursday, December 27th, 2007

“Art is to take from life something real, then to build it anew with your imagination.”
       —Taha Muhammad Ali

— I made good on the recent advice from Irina to paint fast and complete a work within one day—I spent most of Christmas Eve executing a heron in watercolors for Nic, my Godson. It turned out rather nicely, so I’m encouraged about continuing with a series of single-day images for display at Wilma’s new gallery. Nic likes it, using the term, “shagpoke,” which he learned from Dadbo. Since I was unfamiliar with that name, I dug into its background and came up with this: It’s a variation of shitepoke, which made reference to a bird’s habit of defecating when disturbed, but is generally applied to the green heron (Butorides virescens), the black-crowned night heron (Nycticorax nycticorax) or the American bittern (Botaurus lentiginosus), none of which is the bird I painted, the great blue heron (Ardea herodias), that familiar creature which, for me, is always a symbol of good fortune. Interestingly, nicknames for the great blue include “long john” and “poor joe.” Perhaps Dadbo called any heron he saw a shagpoke, or hadn’t thought it necessary to make distinctions with a young lad developing his fondness for the world of animals. I can’t help but think of my father’s early days fishing the Stillwater, and wonder if great blues populated that part of Ohio in the 1930s. One more curious observation is that double ‘nyc’ in the scientific name for the night heron.

— I finally got to meet Jerry R at Kelley Ridge, and was happy to see him again when we gathered for Clan Stew. Does this make him an official ”sweetie?” I enjoy hearing him share his historical knowledge. This is the kind of man that has the capacity to unlock Marty’s natural desire to study history. Dana and I have resolved to take the lad on a visit to Boonesborough in 2008.

— Although there are numerous commercial tasks facing me in the studio right now, I can’t help but spend a good portion of my energy this time of year looking ahead to the coming cycle and getting organized. Rather than get caught up in an assessment of past months, I tend to flush all my thoughts and feelings about what’s behind in favor of anticipation for what lies before me. Januaries are full of hope and fresh confidence, with my mind turning to “Max Organ.” Now, don’t let visions of spam-email lewdness dance in your head, because I’m talking about my age-old effort to sort and categorize my morgue of visual materials and other personal papers, along with structuring my work space, and, in general, just dealing with all my accumulated stuff—Maximum Organization. It’s an ideal that can’t actually be reached (if you intend to accomplish anything else), but always remains a worthy goal. It makes me think about the mathematical concept of the asymptote. Max Organ shall always remain the valiant endeavor that draws one closer and closer to the unattainable standard. Nevertheless, finished is better than perfect.”

— There should be a strong contingent of Clan at the game tonight, rooting for #3. Tomorrow is Belle’s 17th birthday, and I think she’s due for a good performance on her home court. Like a knucklehead, I got so worked up about watching her play last night that I drove us out to the high school before it became obvious I had the date wrong.

V & S

Double Graduation, Good Vibrations

Saturday, May 13th, 2006

I wasn’t able to spend last night working on my two “Photorama” collages for the Clan graduates, since we spent the evening with the Simpsons watching “Out of Africa.” It forced me to complete the gifts today, but everything worked out fine. After an eight-mile morning run, I was able to focus on my intuitive sprint to the family deadline—an ideal circumstance for creating this particular type of artwork—as well as getting to savor one of the only flawless motion pictures made in the past 25 years.

25 years… that’s Brendan’s lifetime, and includes the lifetimes of all the Clan youngsters present at our celebration for Nicholas and Caitlan. And speaking of Brendan, I got to see him in action with his new camera, an impressive piece of equipment. As I shot with my vintage Nikkormat, I felt like a geezer driving around in a dusty old coupe. Ah well, at least I didn’t say, “No, sirree-Bob, they don’t make ’em like this anymore.”

It was fun to eat good Chinese food with Nic and Josh and Marty, too. Nic was having a great day, one that will last long in the memory bank. I wish my Godson well as he prepares to begin his studies in veterinary medicine. I really didn’t get to chat with Oxford-bound Caitlan, but, actually, I really didn’t get to talk to many of the others either, including my mom, but that didn’t stop me from simply absorbing the magnitude of the good family vibes, before it was all over much too quickly.