whitman’s sampler

I leave half-finished posts unposted for days, and then delete them because the topics are now old news. So here’s some random:

My Clock Picture for Drawing Class.

Self Portrait, ugh. The blue cast is because I took thie picture outside, I think. Afterwards I did a fingerstick, and let’s just say it’s a miracle this drawing didn’t come out even worse!

The Six Basic Shapes (for Fundamentals of Design class.) This project was more my speed: COLORING. Ha!

I haven’t received grades on any of these yet. It’s hard for me to accept that, when it comes to art, the very best I can do is–maybe–a B. Maybe that is the real lesson I need to learn at this point in my life, though. On the up side, I don’t have any trouble accepting critique, because years of writing have thickened my skin. On the down side, I still hate hate hate to give it. I don’t feel qualified, and I know other people do get their feelings hurt.

I have at least six hamster pups running around the cage and trying out the wheel. There is so much cuteness contained in such a small area, even T-Moth had to go, “Aw!” I’m fixing to move them all to a large plastic bin as soon as I figure out how to hang the water bottle. I’m on a budget, and I chose to buy an exercise wheel rather than a bottle hanger that probably wouldn’t be low enough anyway. I have another idea though…we’ll see how it works out.

Cobie and Kelly miss me, and I miss them. I’m gone a lot, and when I am home, I’m busy. I’m hoping to squeeze in some hanging-out-like-dogs on the deck time this afternoon.

I need better time-management skills.


It’s not just the colonoscopy, or the eye exam. It’s all the hours I lose prepping for the -scopy, or half-blinded by the dialation. I can’t afford to lose that much time. My brain is not as fast as all these 18-year-olds’! Also it’s tireder. Probably the only part of my body that’s smoother now than 10 years ago.

Last Friday I went to the school’s creative writing club. I didn’t have a good feeling about it, since the club description emphasized poetry and short fiction, and well…I hardly read poetry, much less write it, and it’s been years since I popped out any short fiction. I went because Zor wanted to go, and I was obsessively avoiding an art project.

It didn’t turn out too bad. The instructor who leads the group seems to be grounded in publishing realities rather than literary snobbery (as I admit I had feared.) One of the women in the group is writing a YA F/SF novel with black protagonists. I wish I were more enthusiastic about speculative YA. Although lately I’ve been wanting to read Black and Blue Magic again for the first time in what,…30 years or better?

Mostly what I learned from the meeting is, I need to make time for writing in my life. And dogs…but also writing.


It goes back to that time management thing again.

Anyhow, as fragmented as this post feels, I’m-a hit send before I get distracted again.