Bruce is in limbo as he awaits a transfer. His latest message:
“I’M DOING FINE, just hanging out at St. Joe’s in Lexington waiting to invade Jewish Hospital in Louisville for some tests. It’s the Crusades all over again, and it’s just as slow getting to the Holy Land as it was then.”
Communiqué from a one-man expeditionary force
July 22nd, 2009Log post #888
July 21st, 2009
— photo by Clay Jackson. Visit Clay’s Daze today!
• While swimming my weekly mile today, I had to make an effort to quiet the mental static and focus on a steady rhythm of breath and body. I can sometimes lose count of the laps doing that, but there’s so much going on right now that I needed the meditative pause. After the workout I took advantage of the sunny afternoon to shoot some photos around campus for use in an illustration that suddenly became a rush job when I worked on everything else. During the walk home I realized it was time to “come up for air” with this blog and to jot down some overdue notes.
• News came today that Pat R’s shocking, month-long cascade of medical emergencies had come to a lamentable end. My heart goes out to all the Greystonians and their extended family. Our ability to make the trip to Ohio for the burial is complicated by another round of hospitalization for Bruce. He went to Lexington Friday night with more GI bleeding, but it looks like he finally found a team at St. Joe that wants a solution, and to get him back on track for a kidney transplant. Dana stayed with him through the inevitable admission ordeal while I took part in the weekend activities at Blue Bank, including some major attention being given to Spring Hollow and the area around the pond, plus a milestone Clan Council (first on Skype), as well as a long Sunday session for me that nearly completes the stone work on the Hall flue. One more day of labor should do it, and then I move on to the finish carpentry. How many years ago did I begin this project?
• I was a bit surprised that Mombo’s face was healing so fast, although she is still experiencing a visual disassociation between her eyes. I urged her to demand some type of sight rehab or therapeutic exercises from the ophthalmologist. She’s tempted to close or block off one eye to see clearly, and that’s probably the opposite of what she needs in order to regain her eye coordination. Actually, I’m a poor one to judge or make suggestions, since I’ve continued for years to put off a proper examination for my own eye condition.
• The closest I can come to imagining what it would be like to have some type of severe short-term memory problem is what I experience when trying to remember my dreams. No matter how vivid and realistic the images I have when awakening, under most circumstances they will be quickly gone—and irretrievable—if I don’t write them down or make a sketch. Think what it would be like if one was that way with actual waking events. Making notes to oneself would be the only way to function. (Makes me think of my Uncle Art.) It’s true that I do remember some dreams, but they tend to be the ones that reoccur, or the ones I wrote down and periodically read over. There I go again. Didn’t I promise myself I would not use this space to talk about dreams?
Update: Mombo
July 9th, 2009I think Mombo got to take one nap in her own bed before she was back in Danville, hospitalized for additional observations and tests. When I visited yesterday, she had more energy than over the weekend, and her eye had continued to improve. Josh’s mother made a friendly stop while I was in the room, and a phone call came from the Adkins and Hornsbys in Louisiana. Mombo talked about how much time Jeanne had devoted to her daily care. The main issue remains— what caused the blackout? The cardiologist wants to rule out her heart, or to reveal something unknown. From her own perspective, she seems to suspect the change in hypertension medication. Understandable, given her long history of peculiar side effects. Of concern to her is the possibility that this sudden mess could affect her freedom to safely drive. Anything like that would certainly cramp her style.
Fireworks she could have done without
July 5th, 2009My mother spent most of her Fourth of July holiday in that painfully unpleasant hurry-up-and-wait-mode characteristic of modern emergency-room care. Around mid-day she’d lost consciousness for some still-unknown reason, while taking recyclables out to her car, and did an unfortunate “header” into driveway gravel. Ouch! Much later, after a series of tests at two different ERs, we learned that the only major injuries were to the bones around her nose and right eye. Nevertheless, she’s pretty banged up from the fall, and Mombo looks like my friend Pam after her bicycle crash. A procedure to relieve pressure around the eyeball was performed at UK before she was eventually released without a hospital admission. We left Lexington about 3 am. Jeanne was still waiting to take Mombo to Eagle Nest. James was still at her side in his garden-tilling boots when Susan and Rita came to see Mombo and pick him up. The uncertainty about why she passed out in the first place hangs over the event. One ER doc pointed out a low sodium level. Another suggested the possibility of a “retrograde amnesia” that would block her memory of having stumbled or been tripped by dogs underfoot. We do know that Panyon’s licking revived her enough that she was able to trigger the electronic life line. Josh was nearby, having been alerted by a friend about an ambulance heading to Blue Bank Road, and so her grandson the soldier was the first to respond. I just found out that the eye specialist is pleased with the condition of that nasty-looking right eye. With very little rest, Jeanne drove Mombo back to Lexington today, and they’ll be traveling to the city for another check-up tomorrow. Stay tuned here for updates.
Haven’t met an uncool Andrew yet . . .
July 3rd, 2009Pushing 60 has its drawbacks, but having some awesome young pals is not one of them. Three are named Andrew, a moniker of which I’m somewhat fond. Bursting with talent, Andrew-I is a maker of films. He gave me a non-speaking part in his latest under development, and I hope he’ll ask me to help with the titles, too. Andrew-II is a native South African, recently engaged to a dazzling lady Mexican encountered during his most recent high-level telecommunications assignment south of the border. Andrew-III is also a world traveler, equally brilliant in his own way, and currently about two weeks into an eventful trans-American cycling odyssey. You can check out his cross-country account at this online journal. Oh yes, I should warn you — day 11 is not recommended for the squeamish.
Good luck to all the Andrews out there!
Strange matters
June 27th, 2009
Three Girlfriends
John Andrew Dixon
Tinted acrylic glazes and colored pencil on wood panel, 2008
Collection of Sara Jane Montgomery
This business of creating things can be an odd affair. There are times when I employ a high degree of focused passion that shoves everything to the periphery. Putting things into perspective when finished, I recognize faults or miscalculations in my approach to the work, especially when the client indicates “back to the drawing board.” Nevertheless, I often must be fully in that place of positive intensity to do justice to the task, even to the point of believing that it will be the most sensational thing ever done. And then there are other times when I struggle through a process fraught with doubts about the idea or quality of the execution, finding scant grist for satisfaction. Strangely enough, the client can be joyous at the outcome, while I continue to perceive flaws. It takes weeks or months to arrive at a new state of observation, only to discover that I very much like the result.
So it is with Three Girlfriends. A package of pleasure arrives after a long delay, and I ask myself, “How did that get lost in delivery?”
Milestone
June 26th, 2009
Oops!
June 20th, 2009When the tyrants of Iran invested their future in the radicalization of an entire culture and rising generation, did they ever once suspect that democracy might become the new jihad?
Wildcards and constants
June 19th, 2009
Unconditional Surrender
John Andrew Dixon
Mixed media collage, 2009
Collection of Nancy and Charles Martindale
In a fashion more defined than recent memory serves, life unfolds with a stark blend of pleasing familiarity and jarring novelty. I take refuge in the naturally comfortable—collage, reading, friendship, bicycling, my cherished clan—while confronting strange and daunting challenges that offer few points of easy reference. The latter include new projects that require me to produce radio advertising, materials for patent registration, and a client-managed Website that relies on code I haven’t learned to speak. It’s helpful to remind myself that everything I’ve ever done—and a bit of it rather well—began with the unfamiliar. At times it was stimulating or even exhilarating, and at other times it was intimidating or actually frightening. I realize now that the difference was rooted in nothing but my own attitude toward the unknown.
Yet another for the trophy case
June 14th, 2009
Hayley was one of only three nominees for The Advocate-Messenger Female Athlete of the Year award, but she had the luck of finishing her high school career during the impressive tenure of young Kaitlin Snapp.
Did you miss her first act?
Dig this—from AMnews.com:
Hellyer was a five-year letter winner in basketball and finished her career with 1,903 points. She was a team captain her sophomore, junior and senior seasons and was a three-time All-Area performer. Hellyer also earned all-district and all-region honors during her career. She has signed to play basketball at Campbellsville University. In softball, she was a four-year starter at shortstop and made the All-Area team twice. She was the Rebels’ leading hitter last season. Hellyer, a 4.0 student, was also an academic all-state pick. She is also a member of the Pep Club, Beta Club, Change of Heart, and Fellowship of Christian Athletes.
Ladies and gentlemen, stay in your seats for Act II.
For the wish list
May 25th, 2009The greatest invention that could ever exist in the history of the human species is a pause button for holidays.
Go, boldly…
May 20th, 2009If this current shuttle mission hasn’t given you a few goosebumps, you’re no true fan of the manned space program. We haven’t even scratched the surface of all the astonishing feats an astronaut could potentially achieve.
Legacy Artworks
May 15th, 2009I now offer personalized watercolor artworks created by hand to commemorate highlights from any adventure experience, including a milestone hunt, trek, climb, dive, eco-trip, research mission, or sea voyage. My archival-quality originals are executed to reflect the “golden age of expedition-style illustration.”
I met Maria at the Safari Club International dinner. She won a commission through the silent auction held that evening. It took her a year to decide precisely how my donation should be redeemed. It took me even longer to deliver the finished work.
Six years after a hunt in Zimbabwe marked by disappointment and sadness, she had returned to the continent with a highly successful safari in South Africa. Ultimately, she trusted me to appropriately interpret her personal triumph.
This piece signifies a breakthrough in my long journey as a traditional illustrator that began with the home-study Course for Talented Young People in the 1960s. I wish some of my former instructors could see it.
Maria Eckerle Safari (+detail)
John Andrew Dixon
Ink, watercolor, colored pencil
14 x 11 inches, 2009
Collection of Maria Eckerle
Eliot’s lunker
May 12th, 2009Cousin Dan let me know about a picture of his nephew Eliot (with an impressive smallmouth) that’s currently featured at the Bob Coan site. It’s been a while since I saw the lad, and—wow—is that generation maturing fast or what? Tom C responded, “That reminds me of the time Uncle Ed caught a big catfish in the Stillwater. Then he distracted me and put the fish on my hook and threw it back in the water; I was about eight.”
Dan thinks Tom’s recollection of my dad is a good reminder of “the kind of guy he was.”
It is, indeed.
Nice “hawg,” E.D.
Can’t you smell that smell?
May 11th, 2009An apartment house located about a half block from our home burned while we slept last night. Bruce said he heard and felt an explosion. Dana and I figured that the frequent sirens and steadily increasing traffic noise downtown has inured us to sounds that would otherwise wake us up. It’s amazing what one can get used to. Reminds me of when I was twelve, and, for a few months, our family slept only a few feet (literally) from the active B&O rail line that ran through Tipp City. I did awaken when the police rang the doorbell at 4:30 am, looking to take a statement from Bruce about the fire. Rumors have circulated today concerning the potential of foul play. If it turns out to be arson, I hope the culprits are nailed, but the greatest concern to me is losing another old structure in this endangered historic district.
May 2nd, 2009
†
Jack Kemp
R
I
P
Vacancy of the heart
April 17th, 2009
For the rest of my life I shall draw and paint pictures of my father. Of course, I can’t say I know what he’d think of that, but I suspect his feelings would be mixed. Modest enough to be uncomfortable with the practice, he probably would have approved, on the other hand, of my using his image as a mechanism for continuous artistic improvement. It’s natural for me to think about him on his birthday, what he would be like in his 80s, or how different my life might be if I still had access to his evolving wisdom, pragmatic perspective, and keen sense of leadership. Whether we comprehend it or not, each of us has a meaningful influence by our very presence in the drama of existence, affecting our world and others in countless ways. Perhaps our departure from the stage will be less profound, depending on how we have played our part. If one is as beloved as my namesake, the absence is a deeply felt void which sends ongoing ripples across the surface of family life.
Quiet victory
March 31st, 2009March exercise—day thirty-one— As I finished my morning walk on this final day of what has become the most experimental month of the year for me, I faced a blazing sunrise and could appreciate the logic of peoples who worshiped our nearest star. My feelings transcended the beauty of a cloudless sky and the refreshing air. Perhaps the ritual exercise inevitably falls short of ambitions, but there is no reason not to look at all that I have in my life and be incredibly grateful. My faith, health, optimism, and creative drive have been restored, and that’s really what it’s all about.
Today’s sight bite— Saddlebreds and Angus (is that an ostrich or an emu?) —c-l-i-c-k— a sleek, reliable two-wheeler is the best way I’ve found to experience the Kentucky countryside.
Tomorrow— Springtime…
Home stretch
March 30th, 2009March exercise—day thirty— Except for some early evening labor in the back yard (our pitiable urban garden), I spent the day pushing forward a commemorative safari illustration. The project will provide a fitting close to my annual exercise.
Today’s sight bite— Fractured brick, chunks of coal, and fragments of clay roofing —c-l-i-c-k— relics of a home’s former incarnation are freed from the dark earth.
Tomorrow— Finish line…
Broadwing barn
March 29th, 2009March exercise—day twenty-nine— My uncle Bob kindly emailed me a photo Dan took of how Pete framed with chestnut the picture I created of their old barn, which has since collapsed. Seeing it again raised my spirits. I made that picture during a period of heightened sketchbook activity. During those years I was constantly drawing with pen, but I created very few finished works outside my journal pages. Above the frame is an antique weather vane. I must admit to a selfish desire—seeing the kitchen wall arrangement firsthand. Of course, it will be good to see my Dixon kin, too.
Today’s sight bite— The face of a lady hunter, between the horns of her trophy kudu —c-l-i-c-k— coaxing me back to my drawing board.
Tomorrow— Into the zone…
High compliment
March 28th, 2009March exercise—day twenty-eight— At the end of last month, my astonishment at randomly meeting an art student who’d written a paper about my artwork on display at EKU caused me to write on Facebook that the incident blew my mind. Long-time friend Craig S commented that, “Dix has been recovering from a blown mind for 40 years.” Putting all nonsense aside, I’m pleased to have that student, Jonathan R, take the time to email his finished assignment to me. Coming from someone of his demonstrated talent and artistic dedication, I consider it an honor that he selected my work for investigation. There are times when I’m convinced that all one needs to do is follow creative intuition and let the universe take care of the rest.
Today’s sight bite— The plate-steel square at 300 yards —c-l-i-c-k— alarmingly small to the naked eye when positioned above the tip of a rifle’s front sight.
Tomorrow— Final Sunday of the month…