Sometimes, on my way to write a post, I check out the blogs that the Blogger staff finds interesting. Today I clicked on Bonobo Handshake, because I wondered what the title meant. And I found out. I'm not going to reveal it here, you'll have to visit the site.
It has NOTHING to do with art, of course, but art and life are one, right? And inspiration can be found anywhere. So we have to look.
Anyway, I worked my first day at the Artisan Shop yesterday. My workday started like this:
I put in the correct code to retrieve the front door key; so far so good. The key doesn't turn in the lock. Damn! Okay, redo code and try other key. Of course it's not the other key...says so right here on my notes: "plain key"... I redo code again to retrieve the correct key; this time it works, after much fumbling. I now have 30 seconds to type in the alarm code so the alarm doesn't go off. Okay, piece of cake....just type in the code: XXXX ... oh no! where's the OFF button? WHERE'S THE OFF BUTTON!? .... OMIGOD that's a loud sound! And look! Here's the off button right here, in the most unbelievably obvious spot! Fabulous. Only a mild heart attack, and already I'm inside!
Where'd I put the front door key? THE KEY! I had it, I opened the door, didn't I? Search of pockets ensues. (Three times, last time quite frantically.) Search of purse follows...no key. Okay, no matter. I'll just start my day and the key will turn up later. Get that tall flag that goes out front...watch it! Don't hit any of the original artwork on the walls with end of pole...oops! that was close. So, flag in place, and back inside... See, there's the key! I knew it would turn up! Right in the keyhole....
By this time I am feeling a bit of an idiot. But I know that I'm not, so when one of the other artists calls to check on me, I don't even tell her about the alarm going off. But then I do. I tell her, but I don't tell her about the key...until later, when she actually comes in, bless her, to make sure I'm doing okay. She's very nice, and has been a part of North Tahoe Arts since it started about 15 years ago. And everything is great, even though she has a little dog. (I'm not a "little dog" fan. I prefer my dogs BIG. A BIG dog is a real dog....) anyway, I'm okay with the little dog, because she seems to love it so much. Until....this is so gross I can almost not write it, but you have to know...she picks off a bit of it's "eye goo" and, ugh....feeds it to the dog!!! Is it me, or is this incredibly disgusting? I felt nauseous. I feel nauseous right now, just thinking about it. I'm sorry if I ruined your day. Anyway, that's not my point. She was a very nice woman and I appreciated her coming by. Except for that bit.
Then there was Hockey Man, late in the day. I was getting really sleepy by this time, because I haven't been sleeping well. Luckily for me, Hockey Man walked in. I didn't know he was Hockey Man, even though he had on a hockey jersey. But I said, "Hi, how are you?" and he said, "I'm 66, I play hockey, and I'm GREAT!" Which impressed me to a large degree, because I recently started mountain biking, I'm alot less than 66, and when I fall I sometimes land on sage or small shrubs, which is a lot softer than ice. Anyway, we proceeded to have this long discussion about art and the upshot of it was this: when one is truly being creative and pushing one's envelope, it's always going to be a bit uncomfortable. I found that comforting.
The giant pumpkin cookie (with chocolate chips) that I got from Tahoe House Bakery was comforting too, and the day ended uneventfully. I suppose it helped that I was able to lock up without setting off the alarm again.