Cherry Tree
***UPDATE***
As of September 2013, the tree still stood in the backyard of this house.
Missionary/Doctor/Clown
From my private journal:
December 26, 1992
My five year-old son (Timothy) told me that he wants to be a missionary/doctor/clown.
A missionary because they tell people about Jesus.
A doctor because they help to make sick people better.
A clown because they make people happy.
Don’t Grab the Honey. You’ll be Sorry if You Do.
While preparing images for another gallery of migraine drawings, I came upon one that was inspired by a dream in which I got a migraine. When I woke up, I actually had a migraine going on. (It’s bizarre to open my eyes in the morning and find a migraine aura going on. That always freaks me out a bit when it happens.) As all but a few of my migraine drawings are contained in my journals, I was happy to find the story of the dream along with this drawing. The dream features my grandson, Jordyn, who was 10 at the time. I feel bad about being so mean to him in this dream! Read below. You’ll see what I mean.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
I woke up with a migraine today. Here’s the story:
I woke at 6 AM when the alarm went off. I reset it for 7:00 and went back to sleep.
then I had a dream that I was in a grocery store with Jordyn. We needed to find something to make for dinner. While in the store, I started to have a migraine aura. I said to Jordyn, “We gotta hurry up, buddy. I’m getting one of my headaches.” Jordyn went off and I was walking around by myself. I was trying to find Jordyn, went down a few steps and noticed the right side of my vision was mostly gone.
I finally found Jordyn leaning over something. I said, “What are you doing?” He was startled and stood up. He had a bottle of honey in his hands. He was squeezing the honey into a barrely of water that had ham steaks in it. I yelled at him, “What are you doing! We have to get out of here! My head hurts!” I slapped him on the back and grabbed the honey.
Then my hands were all sticky! I was so angry! I put the honey on a shelf. Then I thought about how to get the honey off my hands. I looked around to make sure no one was looking. Then I rinsed my hands off in the barrel with the ham! Ha! Then I said, “Let’s get outta here!”
The alarm went off at 7… and I had an aura going on. It was on the right side of my vision, which is unusual. I usually have it on the left side.
There’s nothing worse than a migraine AND sticky hands! But I guess that’s what I get for being nasty to my own flesh and blood.
(This story is also posted on Doodlesam.com HERE.)
A Rare and Brief Look Into My Private Journal
(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
1:06 PMI’m at the park. Listening to Prince’s “Purple Rain” album.
When I pulled in, there was a woman in a green Honda feeding a baby. Not with the breast. With a bottle on her lap.
Then an Elgin Whirlwind street sweeper largely hummed through the parking lot and dumped a pile of gravel. Not on its own. There was a man driving it.
I wish I didn’t have to go back to the office right away. I’d rather stay here and observe who else comes to the park. Maybe a troop of belly dancers in rubber boots. Or a communist tank from Cuba.
Or a dog.
Or a group of belly dancing communist dogs on a Cuban tank. A rubber one.
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