Tag Archives: positive

Now for the Positive and the Smiling Woman Portrait

It wasn’t all gloom and doom where I worked. There were times and days when things were good and not so bad. Here is a list of positively great things associated with where I was employed.

Smiling Woman

1. I paid one of my student debts totaling $3700 off in full in the six months I worked there.

2. I am in awesome physical shape from the physical labour. Only another $18,500 to go!

3. I worked with some great people; people who made me laugh; people who worked as hard as I did.

4. They gave me a part-time job when I needed one.

5. I was surrounded by art supplies!

6. Everyday I was inspired by art, prints, photos and oddities customer’s brought in to have framed.

7. I got to cut glass.

8. I learned to be efficient in the time frame I was given for varying tasks.

9. I got to use air powered tools!

10. I met and spoke with many local artists weekly.

11. They were understanding when things got rough for me while nearing the end of tapering off Paxil last November.

12. They gave me time off (unpaid) when my grandmother passed away.

13. They are marking me off as a good employee because I gave written notice.

14. If I ever want to work for them again I am always welcome to come back.

15. Finally, having this job gave me the confidence to know that I can work and do a good job at it.

For the next three weeks I’ll be working with my Dad and brother renovating a building they own. I’ve worked with them before and enjoy doing so. I’m a good worker and when able to have always given a hand. Women are just good at paying attention to the small details that men may miss. Now don’t go attacking me for saying that but I know my Dad and brother and you don’t. They do fabulous restoration work. I’m so excited. This building is near 100 years old.

So, if you know of any part-time work email me or leave a comment on this post. I am open to all types of work. The summer is coming and I’ll be planting and maintaining a huge vegetable garden again. That in itself is backbreaking work. A part-time office or contract work at home gig would be grand.

And to clarify why I choose part-time over full-time work. I need time to write, draw and paint. Without doing those three things I do and have become very sick. I stay healthy this way which is better for me and also great for the people who employ me.

The smiling woman semi self portrait will be available in my art shop later today. She is looking a little magenta though. I must rescan her.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

Go in with a Positive Attitude

Boxing Day Pic of me

On my way to work yesterday I was complaining about having to go to work to my father, dreading the uneasiness (not the work itself) that seems to have rested over my place of employment. When we arrived at the store I opened the passenger door to get out and my Dad says to me “Go in with a positive attitude.”

I did. I smiled said thank you for the lift and entered that giant store happy. And later that night I left that giant store happy.

I truly am growing tired of being uncertain… when in fact my life is fantastic. I am surrounded by people who love me. I have a job related to arts. I am blogging. I am creating new art and meeting new people both online and offline with whom I connect.

All of these things combined make for a beautiful life.

Who are we to continuously complain without doing anything about what we are complaining about. Think about that.

The picture above was snapped by my mom using my camera on Boxing day during the yearly gathering at my Grandmother’s place. She turned 93 on Christmas Day. If she can keep going and smiling so can I.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

In the midst of the cacophony ghosts danced

I awoke this morning horny. I had been dreaming of ghosts. A large party that covered whole city blocks. It resembled the downtown Eastside of Vancouver. All the buildings appeared as they do today except the streets, the windows, sidewalks and air were filled with cars, horses, wagons and people of yesteryear, some centuries old. I was four or five floors up in a hotel. It happened to be clean and comfortable decorated with furniture from the turn of the century. I questioned the dark haired female ghost next to me

“How old are you?”
“292 years. I’m old” She smiled appearing no older than 29, “You?”

I couldn’t remember how old I was. My early thirties I suppose then I thought I was 32 and began wondering why 32 just didn’t seem to be the right age. She had read my thoughts and said out loud,

“You are young and still alive.”

I felt fear nagging behind meas being alive around these ghosts although jovial could mean trouble. I moved on through the room content to let fear follow. An orgy was in progress. This orgy was not just sex. It encompassed everything and anything that could make people (ghosts) laugh and feel pleasure. There were ghosts eating. There were ghosts tickling one and other. There were ghosts painting and taking their clothes off comparing their wounds to that which they were painting.

I remembered being alive. I knew I was not dead and peaked my head out the curtainless window down the length of the street below, witnessing the final cacophony of ghostial bestiality… then all was calm.

My surroundings morphed into a dank apartment. This was real. My surroundings didn’t smell. It was dirty, unkempt and all shades of brown in color. I felt happy. It felt familiar. I heard voices in the distance and recognized them. Andrea’s voice sung out. She had climaxed. She giggled. I set about doing the dishes but they had all been cleaned beforehand. I set about putting them all away. There were mountains of them and drying racks everywhere. The dish towels were gross. I tossed them *dans la poubelle quickly. There were five drawers in the kitchen. Four of the five contained one kind of cutlery, forks, spoons, small spoons and knives. The fifth contained a cutlery organizer. I got confused. I began laughing.

The sound of a man came into existence. Jean Paul Tremblay walked into the kitchen. A bed appeared in the corner. We sat and I began studying his penis for drawing purposes.

Curley…

I certainly woke **happy today.

This is the first dream I remember upon waking in which I was not using drugs, I was not running or trying to escape something or someone and not fearing for my life, nor was I screaming upon waking up.

I awoke having an orgasm. This is the first time that that has happened in years.

*in the garbage
**…and it all began from an eargasm. Go figure?