TMI (sp?)

...often more than you want or need to know
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You’re probably wondering why my blog post is so late this month, all 5 dozen of my readers…well, in what I can only compare to a “the dog ate my homework” kind of moment, I have this to offer.

 

Several years ago, my much loved sister-in-law, Devon, aspiring writer and the mother of 3 of my favorite people on the planet, called me up and asked if I would like to “take a class with her?”

 

Now, I am a decided fan of continuing education, so I quickly got all the specifics on the playwriting class...

People often ask me about where I get the inspiration for my paintings...I guess that's the kind of question you're allowed to ask artists, but it always makes me feel like I forgot to study for the test. In the spirit of full disclosure, I should also note that people ask me where the bathroom is with equal frequency. I don't want you thinking that I'm wandering around in a smock and beret waxing poetic about my muse. Maybe it's my jovial non-threatening demeanor that allows for a comfortable...

It’s the first of a new month, and somebody asked me if my “new blog post was up yet?” I informed her that I was finishing it up tonight and that it would be online in a day or two. She asked about the content, and I told her I was writing about the seven deadly sins. “Oh, like the sin of sloth? Slothful like you neglected to write and post something for November? Slothful like you didn't get around to contributing anything in December? Yup, totally slothful.”

Ouch.

She saw the look on my face an...

The evolution of a dream is a curious thing. And there’s really nothing like a well-placed metaphor to capture it.

A year ago, I contemplated augmenting my income with one of my creative hobbies. In the early spring, we talked in earnest about the cost and commitment necessary…with Denny’s blessing, I began to sow the seeds of my dream. Nurturing them throughout the summer…seeking guidance where I could find it (thank you Deanna, thank you Merle, thank you Alex, thank you ridiculously hot sales...

I had my fourth gallery opening in August. It went great, I mean I didn’t spill anything, I talked intelligently to other artists...I held my own. Well, in retrospect, I think I did better than just holding my own, however, a substantial character flaw hinders my acceptance of that notion…let me see if I can explain. I'm fairly gregarious, very observant, and highly perceptive...when/where balance of colors, symbolism in mythology & literature, and matters of etiquette are involved…not so much...

When Dennis and I were first together, both working for a "non profit" theatre company, we didn't have a lot of disposable income. When occasions arose that required a special gift I often found myself making something, usually sewn...quilts were my "go to" at the time, as I could often incorporate scraps from previous projects to cut down the cost. People always seemed appreciative, and pleased...I counted myself lucky that I had such polite, caring friends who would never think of pointing ou...

August 1, 2015

I like my name a lot. "Tim"...it's short, it's easy to spell, easy to pronounce, not to mention reliable. It made souvenir shopping a breeze. I could always find it on a preprinted coffee mug, “authentic imitation” Indian keepsake box, or the pre teen must have: a bicycle license plate. Yup, I like my name...well, mostly I'm used to it, besides, it's pretty handy.

My first name has built in variations which, when used properly, are great indicators of my current situation...for example, if...


Someone I met at a recent social occasion discreetly asked me if I “was out?”…I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly, so I asked her to repeat the question. She did, this time loud enough for a coworker to hear, and subsequently choke on his cocktail as he tried not to laugh. Seriously? I’m a 53 year old, obviously gay man…what sad sham of a life did she think I was living?  I’m out, proud, and often loud. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent a lot of time in the closet, but it usually involves organizin...

Maybe I don't understand how they work? It seems so simple...you take the plastic door hanger that says "Do Not Disturb" off the inside doorknob of the hotel room, and hang it on the outside doorknob so that anyone passing in the hall can see that you, in fact, do not wish to be disturbed.
Maybe the maid couldn't read it? It did appear, as she knocked so intently (do they use a ball peen hammer?) on my door at 7:56 am, that English was not her first language. I'm not quite sure about the accent...

My life was full.

Full of responsibilities & commitments, full of friends & family, full of laundry to be done, full of weeds to be pulled, full of bills to be paid, and evidently full of food (as I was more than 100 lbs. overweight)...let's just say "I was full"...in more ways than one.

My jobs, and their subsequent responsibilities have always been creative. I count myself lucky in that regard. I would tell people on a regular basis "I love my job, and there are days that I don't want to go...

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