Of Putties, Being Broke, and Art

Welcome to our latest blog on our Ning network. Sorry we’ve been gone so long. We’ve had a lot of computer issues. My HP Pavilion died on February 1st, then Stephen’s laptop had to go into the shop again for the 24th time since he’d gotten it nearly 3 years ago. On June 1st, our favorite putty, Bailee was poisoned. She died a slow agonizing and painful death all because some a__hole decided it was better to kill a few rats using poison than to let the animals (both cats and dogs kill the rodents the more natural way, the way the Goddess intended. There are certain breeds of dog, your smaller breeds that are uniquely suited to hunting down rats and killing them. The reason cats moved from Egypt to all over the world was because of their primal skills in hunting down both rats and mice. As you can probably tell, I’m still pretty angry about it. Bailee was a sweet, loving, docile cat. Stephen had her for 4 ½ years, counting out the time she was with Debbie and Megan.

I had three songs I used to sing to Bailee: “Hey there Bailee Girl,” “Bailee Go ‘Round the Roses,” and the Temptations’ “My Girl.” She didn’t care if you had an operatic voice like Pat Benatar, or sounded like a foghorn. She didn’t even care if you could carry a tune. She loved to be sung to. I guess it was because it meant you were paying attention to her. She was a love and affection sponge. She would soak up all the affection you had to give her and beg for more. Bailee meant a great deal to us. Losing her has made a big hole in our household. We considered her to be very magickal. She was the inventor of the “Hundredth Putty Phenomenon”, a takeoff from Ken Keyes’ 100th Monkey Phenomenon. Bailee would stick her paw in the food bin, take out a piece of food, and and eat it. She taught all the other putties, and soon they were all doing it. We don’t know whether the putties in the next block are doing it or not. The following is a poem I wrote to Bailee:
Bailee you were so sweet
You made the birds go tweet
Loving, you gave us two hours
To stop petting you among the flowers
You liked to stare at the roses
And bite us on our noses
Your purr was very loud
Although going out was not allowed
You were unbowed
By your weight and long fur
Very seldom did you go grrr
We love you very much
You thrilled to our very touch
You taught them all the hundredth putty
Although you were a mutty
Your crossed paws signaled danger
Known to us but not a stranger
When you’re not near us we’re blue
O Bailee we love you!

Friday we went into Stephen’s Bunko de Amerika account, and instead of the $400+ he expected to see in his account, there was just a little more than $100. Seventy had been taken out for overdraft charges. The rest of the money had simply evaporated. The only good news is that the bank did pay the checks. The bad news is that he doesn’t have the money to pay anything on the rent. He desperately needs as many paid readings as possible. Just 20 readings, classes, and/or research gigs would get him out of this mess he’s gotten himself into. Don’t set back and think that your neighbor will do it, he needs YOUR reading now. If you’re local, the number is 916-455-2267. The toll-free number 1-888-611-7982. For donations, you can go to Paypal at abbotts_inn@yahoo.com. The stress and anxiety is taking a toll on his health. His asthma has been acting up. This afternoon we’ll be going to pick up his inhaler stuff. Stephen plans to call Bunko de America tomorrow and see if he can get one or both of the charges refunded. Will him good luck. He thinks he has a chance, as he hasn’t asked for this for over a year. As Judy Tenuda, the Goddess says, our favorite comedienne says, “It could happen!”

We were on our way last night to Gallery 14 to see the new exhibit. Last month we we were resting at a bus stop when someone came along and said, “That bus doesn’t run here anymore.” We replied “We know, we’re just resting and working.” This time I thought I’d reply with an old joke. Stephen wants me to tell it here, so here it is:

A woman went into her kitchen and opened the door to her refrigerator to discover a squirrel reclining on one of the shelves. “What are you doing here?” she askeed.

“Is this a Westinghouse?” it asked, referring to the brand of the fridge.

“Well, I’m westing,” the squirrel replied..

The art by Cynthia Parker is abstract mosaics made with broken mirrors. In a way, it’s accidental art. I interviewed her about her art. I asked that old chestnut, “Where do you get your ideas?”

You know, I used to live with a psychopath. I had all these mirrors I’d collected since I was a child, and he broke them all. I said to myself ‘I can’t get rid of them, I just can’t bear it.’ So I started to put them back together. I didn’t manipulate the pieces in any way. I did play with them a bit, and these are the result.”

My personal favorites are “Angel” because I could actually see the wings sweeping up, and “The Rose” because I could see the petals and leaves.

Stephen said of it that “It’s very unique, unusual, and self-exposing because you can see yourself in it.”

Walt said in the flyer on it, “Cynthia Parker holds up a cracked mirror for our inspection, and shows us the image of our fragmented selves--imperfect, yet perfectly fascinating.”
The exhibit is at Gallery 14, 3960 60th st. at 14th Avenue, Sacramento, CA 95820, and runs until July 2nd.

I think it’s a very creative way of using something that otherwise would be trashed. It’s kind of like found art.

Stephen said, “It takes some effort to break the pieces in such a way as to produce the desired effect.”

I said to him, “I’m surprised you’d want to see an exhibit like this. It’s a bad place for vampires.”

“They’re already broken.”

“Vampires don’t break mirrors, silly, they just don’t show up in them.”

“I’m not a full-fledged vampire, and besides, I’m adaptable.”

Ms. Parker said, “After I ran out of my own mirrors, people started bringing me their broken mirrors. She seemed anxious and nervous whether people would like it. Indeed, from the smell of her, she had armed herself with several doses of Dutch courage before coming there.

“Modern art is all about confidence,” I told her, and told her the story of the “Emperor’s New Clothes”, which is my favorite analogy about modern art.

Belisama showed up. She’s going to school with a view towards getting a degree in forensic psychology and criminal justice. She’s a Witch I met almost 2 years ago at the Pagan Pride festival in September ‘09. She had her husband Charlie and her youngest granddaughter, Aurora, in tow. The child found some drawing materials, and settled down to generating her own kind of art. Stephen first met her when she was a teen runaway in his commune back in September, ‘71.

We met Sioux, who is an activist for medical marijuana, which is a subject close to our hearts. She gave us a ride home, so I didn’t have to struggle on the long walk home. Marijuana was the only substance that helped her after the “traditional” pharmaceuticals made her sick almost to death. We discussed NORML. I got her phone number, so I’m going to call her later on.

Remember, go to http://abbottsinninternational.com/ , http://abbottsinn.com/, call 1-888-611-7982, and order a reading, a class, and or research. YOUR reading could be the one that enables Stephen to go to Walmart and get s $500 money order to send to our landlady.