A well, what did I hear on the radio but a program in which people were calling in to describe BAD THANKSGIVINGS. Really.
But actually mine turned out to be one in which I felt cared about and included.
Went to a potluck noonish with Gracie. She enjoyed some turkey as well.
Took her home and went back out to join some nice people at a restaurant where I ordered SOUP. All the turkey I wanted already.
Most amazing thing was that I was invited to 2 more...
11/20/18
DELETING THE DAY - THANKSGIVING
Here I am thinking of Thanksgivings Past - and some of them were awful.
This one is also going to be especially awful.
What makes this one especially awful?
I'm bitten up by NoSeeUms - ie. insects I never see or feel on my skin that have left me itchy and scratching. I actually think some of these are spider bites. Others? I hear there is a tiny Chinese mosquito that likes to live indoors: people are closing their toilet seat lids and dumping their dog's water bowls more often. I have bites up and down my arms and legs, on my chest. I've been wearing pants and socks and long sleeves to bed but it seems no use. I've never been so bitten up in my life.
I have a sinus headache due to the terrible fires in Malibu/Calabassas. I used to travel out that way and go to Broad/Zuma/Point Dume so I watched news coverage to see if I recognized anything burning or burned. This devastation and that of Paradise, California has got me feeling down. And all those people waiting for End Times are including these fires as evidence.
Turkey is no big deal these days. People, including me, eat it all year around. Along with stuffing and green beans and cranberry sauce. Someone recently said to me of Thanksgiving, "I won't used canned." (How is that for status?) Anyone who is my friend and might have invited me to eat with them is leaving town.
I went into the 99 Cent Only store and Christmas music was blasting. I hate to go shopping to the theme of yet another holiday being celebrated weeks before it should be, the music being used to create anxiety in me that I need to spend more money and shop for it.
Someone made me an extremely improbable job offer as the Next Great Thing For Me. I tried to be open minded. Do I really want to leave the county for a more rural area where there might not be anything much to do in the evenings?
C 2018 Christine Trzyna
This one is also going to be especially awful.
What makes this one especially awful?
I'm bitten up by NoSeeUms - ie. insects I never see or feel on my skin that have left me itchy and scratching. I actually think some of these are spider bites. Others? I hear there is a tiny Chinese mosquito that likes to live indoors: people are closing their toilet seat lids and dumping their dog's water bowls more often. I have bites up and down my arms and legs, on my chest. I've been wearing pants and socks and long sleeves to bed but it seems no use. I've never been so bitten up in my life.
I have a sinus headache due to the terrible fires in Malibu/Calabassas. I used to travel out that way and go to Broad/Zuma/Point Dume so I watched news coverage to see if I recognized anything burning or burned. This devastation and that of Paradise, California has got me feeling down. And all those people waiting for End Times are including these fires as evidence.
Turkey is no big deal these days. People, including me, eat it all year around. Along with stuffing and green beans and cranberry sauce. Someone recently said to me of Thanksgiving, "I won't used canned." (How is that for status?) Anyone who is my friend and might have invited me to eat with them is leaving town.
I went into the 99 Cent Only store and Christmas music was blasting. I hate to go shopping to the theme of yet another holiday being celebrated weeks before it should be, the music being used to create anxiety in me that I need to spend more money and shop for it.
Someone made me an extremely improbable job offer as the Next Great Thing For Me. I tried to be open minded. Do I really want to leave the county for a more rural area where there might not be anything much to do in the evenings?
C 2018 Christine Trzyna
11/18/18
LOTTERY : EXPERIENCE TEN : CHRISTINE TRZYNA WRITING WORKSHOP
One million tax free dollars and you have to spend it in 90 days.
Christine Trzyna
C 2018 - 2020 Christine Trzyna
All Rights Reserved including Internet and International Rights
OK to use in not for profit situations. Please credit me. It's karma.
Christine Trzyna
C 2018 - 2020 Christine Trzyna
All Rights Reserved including Internet and International Rights
OK to use in not for profit situations. Please credit me. It's karma.
11/11/18
DIFFERENT: EXPERIENCE NINE : CHRISTINE TRZYNA WRITING WORKSHOP
Your first experience of encountering someone of a drastically different view point about religion, politics, or some other controversy.
Christine Trzyna
C 2018-2020 Christine Trzyna
All Rights Reserved including Internet and International Rights
OK to use in not for profit situations. Please credit me. It's karma.
Christine Trzyna
C 2018-2020 Christine Trzyna
All Rights Reserved including Internet and International Rights
OK to use in not for profit situations. Please credit me. It's karma.
11/9/18
PAINTED OVER - A MEMORY OF BEING AN ARTIST
I was known as "the artist" when I was a teenager, maybe the best artist in my small high school at the time. I became part of the art world early.
One time we had a substitute teacher in the art room. She took herself seriously as an artist - beatnik. She showed up wearing a black felt tammy over her hair and a long white shirt. She took her brush out and started painting over my painting of an imaginary landscape. Apparently my face fell. Though she probably meant to show me a technique, with one of her own brushes, rather than the ratty old brushes my football obsessed high school managed to budget for, when my face fell other students noticed. They corralled me to tell me they saw my face and that it fell and commiserated. How I must have felt.
So this was a small canvas that I was working on. The school budget was so dishonoring of artists that teachers had to go to thrift stores and buy used canvases they thought could be reused.
I was dating someone who had a car. Maybe one of the few who had a car of his own and an allowance to put gas in it. Apparently a lot of people called him for transportation. One woman in particular. When she heard he was dating me, she wasn't pleased. He wasn't on call for rides anymore. So one day she went into the art room and gessoed over my almost complete landscape. I got there just in time to identify this canvas as mine and to wash the gesso off before it dried. Painting saved.
So the painting was then exhibited in one of those glassed-in cases down the hall from the art room. A student one year ahead of me apparently felt competitive. He went in there and without permission took my painting down and put his up. He was caught.
A teacher took his down and put mine back up. (He would also compete with me to design his senior class play set. Actually his set was much better because the play he was working on was far more interesting than my senior class play. He went on to be the set designer for a city theater. He managed to give me a dirty look or act haughty when we passed each other in the halls for a year. Rarely was anyone so jealous of me.
My landscape I gifted to my boyfriend with the car. His mother was proud of the painting or maybe even me. I watched as she got a nail and hammered it into the plaster. She hung the painting up above the entrance to his bedroom door. This was a very big deal. His father had designed the house to have perfect thick plaster.
We broke up. I don't know what happened to the painting after that. I have a vague memory of the size and composition of the landscape. I recall that I put a sun in it. There were long grasses.
I suspect that one day my painting was thrown in the trash or maybe donated. But you never know. It might still hang on a wall somewhere with my painterly name in the corner using a very fine brush.
C Christine Trzyna 2018
One time we had a substitute teacher in the art room. She took herself seriously as an artist - beatnik. She showed up wearing a black felt tammy over her hair and a long white shirt. She took her brush out and started painting over my painting of an imaginary landscape. Apparently my face fell. Though she probably meant to show me a technique, with one of her own brushes, rather than the ratty old brushes my football obsessed high school managed to budget for, when my face fell other students noticed. They corralled me to tell me they saw my face and that it fell and commiserated. How I must have felt.
So this was a small canvas that I was working on. The school budget was so dishonoring of artists that teachers had to go to thrift stores and buy used canvases they thought could be reused.
I was dating someone who had a car. Maybe one of the few who had a car of his own and an allowance to put gas in it. Apparently a lot of people called him for transportation. One woman in particular. When she heard he was dating me, she wasn't pleased. He wasn't on call for rides anymore. So one day she went into the art room and gessoed over my almost complete landscape. I got there just in time to identify this canvas as mine and to wash the gesso off before it dried. Painting saved.
So the painting was then exhibited in one of those glassed-in cases down the hall from the art room. A student one year ahead of me apparently felt competitive. He went in there and without permission took my painting down and put his up. He was caught.
A teacher took his down and put mine back up. (He would also compete with me to design his senior class play set. Actually his set was much better because the play he was working on was far more interesting than my senior class play. He went on to be the set designer for a city theater. He managed to give me a dirty look or act haughty when we passed each other in the halls for a year. Rarely was anyone so jealous of me.
My landscape I gifted to my boyfriend with the car. His mother was proud of the painting or maybe even me. I watched as she got a nail and hammered it into the plaster. She hung the painting up above the entrance to his bedroom door. This was a very big deal. His father had designed the house to have perfect thick plaster.
We broke up. I don't know what happened to the painting after that. I have a vague memory of the size and composition of the landscape. I recall that I put a sun in it. There were long grasses.
I suspect that one day my painting was thrown in the trash or maybe donated. But you never know. It might still hang on a wall somewhere with my painterly name in the corner using a very fine brush.
C Christine Trzyna 2018
11/4/18
HOUSE : EXPERIENCE EIGHT : CHRISTINE TRZYNA WRITING WORKSHOP
Design your house in heaven - architecture - interior design - landscaping.
Christine Trzyna
C 2018-2020 Christine Trzyna
All Rights Reserved including Internet and International Rights
OK to use in not for profit situations. Please credit me. It's karma.
Christine Trzyna
C 2018-2020 Christine Trzyna
All Rights Reserved including Internet and International Rights
OK to use in not for profit situations. Please credit me. It's karma.
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