Archive for the Thoughts Category

Chauncey’s Favorite Things!

Posted in Thoughts on February 27, 2015 by Admin

a work in progress for nancy marion elwell.

the sound? wth happened to the soundtrack? sigh. back to the drawing board…

chauncey fave things scooter

COMCAST ABSOLUTELY MUST BE STOPPED

Posted in Thoughts on October 10, 2014 by Admin

Later I may come back and outline what mergers of this size mean for the future for all of us — and I may even type my own tale of woe and deceit and everything BUT *high-speed cable and internet* — but for now I am just going to paste this very important message from fightforthefuture.org

It’s not cool to sign petitions. But they DO work. Adding your voice to a petition tells the powers that be that you too disagree with the world becoming a terrifying place run by 3 major companies who bought out every smaller company and will battle each other to the death for world control via being the sole supplier of the world’s needs. So stop surfing of checking facebook for 2-3 minutes, get your priorities together and risk being uncool, and add your name. Or a fake name if you are a conspiracy theorist. It is safe, fast, and effective.

And if you have kids then you OWE THEM your best efforts at saving the future for them.

————————————————————————————————-

There’s good news! Thanks in part to the response we helped generate, the FCC has extended the deadline to receive comments about Comcast’s attempted internet takeover untilOctober 29th.

50,000 people have taken action already. The FCC will be surprised by this kind of response to a merger question, but the deck is stacked against us so we need to go all out. Can we count on you to help us get to 100,000 comments by the end of this week?

Click here to submit a comment to the FCC opposing the Comcast merger that would dismantle Internet freedom.

Read the email below for more background, and please forward this to your friends and family. It affects all of us!

Urgent: there are just a few days left to stop Comcast from taking over Time Warner Cable and signing a death sentence for net neutrality. Click here to take action now.

This one really requires no explanation. The most hated company in the US is trying to take over the second most hated company in the US, in a move that would raise our cable and Internet bills, stifle online free speech, and make them one of the most powerful lobbies in history. [1]

This merger is bad for EVERYONE, and there is tons of opposition, even from within the FCC. We have a real chance at stopping this but we have to act quickly. [2]

The deadline is next week! Click here to stop Comcast in its tracks.

Comcast is already the largest and most powerful opponent of net neutrality, online privacy, and Internet freedom. They’ve been caught several times abusing their “gatekeeper” power as an Internet provider to further their own interests. [3] If the FCC lets Comcast forcibly absorb Time Warner Cable — the second largest Internet provider in the U.S. — they will control access to information in nearly 6 of 10 people’s homes (more if you’re only counting truly high speed Internet). [4]

Millions of you have sent comments to the FCC in support of net neutrality. We’re asking for your help again because if this merger goes through, Comcast gets even more powerful — in the marketplace, online, and in Washington, DC. If we don’t stop this takeover right now, we’ll be fighting an uphill battle on net neutrality and online free speech for years to come.

Will you sign? Click here to submit a comment opposing the Comcast merger.

After you sign, please forward this email to everyone you know and share the petition on social media.

Here’s the link one last time: http://www.battleforthenet.com/comcast?org=fff 

[I, Petunia] Not for sale; Decency II

Posted in Documentaries, Honesty, I Petunia, Life is like Christopher Guest said it was, Life Performance Art, Literary, Love Thy Fellow Man, MANNERS, Mockumentaries, Narcissisim, Non-Selective Empathy and Compassion, Petunia, Philosophy?, Regretful Human Behavior, Thoughts with tags on July 20, 2013 by Admin

A work of fiction, by Petunia Jablonsky, to be presented in serial format, a few sentences or paragraphs whenever… our attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure.

 “The important thing is to write and to keep writing…for when you start you won’t stop until your story has been told, and you never know what you might find along the way, or at the end. You have a gift. Certainly all the money stolen from you — from “family” no less, and including the man you’d called “dad” who kept the money your Grammie left for you, excusing it by saying, “I’m keeping that money; I earned it by being stuck with a sick woman all my life”, and the brother you’d always protected and who’d stolen well over half a million dollars for you because his life is devoid of the things that matter more than money” — means you bought and paid for these stories, so write them and don’t stop for a minute. Do not edit, do not re-read, just write forward and never look back” 

I, Petunia, often think of the good times, the hilarious times, the great times, regarding both of these aforementioned situations and peoples.

When we first met at the wedding of a friend we clicked immediately, in a good way and a true way, not a heat-driven or cheap way. We laughed and danced and smiled and laughed again. I left with him and his friends, a hilarious couple, all of us exuberant and unwilling to let the evening end, and my friend K drove back alone, without minding or worrying, as these were all friends of friends. On the way to an after party of some unknown shape or destination they suddenly pulled over to the side and so we pulled over behind them. They got out, so we followed suit. We all looked at each other, still laughing, not knowing or caring why we’d stopped, and because our radio was blasting Brick House we all began to dance on the sidewalk as cars drove by honking and staring. After a few minutes of this we all, without a word, got into our two respective cars and simply resumed the drive as a mini convoy, still laughing. The days that followed were heady, hilarious, epic, swoonful.

I digress… I promised to just write and write and this is easy for me as I, Petunia, do not write so much as let my three typing fingers do their jerry-rigged thing, loudly as I am often told, on the keypad. There never seems to be any communication between mind and fingers; they just go, seemingly of their own accord. After years of promising that today is the day I will get back to my blog, I, Petunia, have begun, and I will honor that promise and neither rein in my fingers or look back. Editing is not an option.

… So, according to the 48 year-old ex-brother (8 years older now than in the title of that aforementioned Steve Carell movie that I shamefully snickered about)  who, until he got the/our father, incapacitated by stroke, (it was in the newspaper, as such things are) to sign over the house that the martyr already half-owned in addition to his half-ownership of all the bank accounts and funds (he is not very bright but he is crafty. My mistake was never seeing the crafty side and believing a diligent church-goer would never lie, steal, or chat) by way of legal maneuvering,  was reportedly couch-surging, yet I always had my hand out. And he finished that fabrication up with, “Ya know?”, as if anyone “knew”, or would ever believe that I was anything other than what they knew me to be, and saw for themselves, all along.

I get reports from… let’s see.. (counting), 5 states. I pretty much hear most of they say, though they likely believe I am universally ostracized as the results of their efforts toward that end; that the wife is “openly-loathed” to the south and “barely tolerated” to the north; that her husband, my ex-father, is not allowed private conversations and she is often on the other line listening; and that of all the family friends who’d loved my mother (may she RIP, and who would be utterly-appalled at all that has transpired since her passing), and who’d attended her funeral and wake and all the parties over the years that only 2 friends and 3 relatives were at the wedding. The Mole (the new “stepmother”, who the martyr had once called a golddigger, pushy, manipulative, and not at all a nice person) calls herself a widow, but sometimes, after her 4th or 5th drink, she refers to her deceased husband as her “ex”. Once friends of mine had offered to pay for a private investigator, sure that something other than a lie about widowhood would turn up about the woman whose being made the hair on my arms stand up from the first meeting when she’d smirked at me upon introduction, but I declined. It doesn’t matter any more. Or maybe some day I will accept. I prize my clean conscience above all for I, Petunia, cherish my untainted integrity above all. Money can’t buy shit, beyond material things.

“Oh, he (the martyr) stays at the house when they let him and sometimes he stays at her place” (her being The Mole; the misogynist new wife and perhaps, hilariously, my stepmother, who once followed me to a place out of earshot and asked, faux innocently, if I saw a dermatologist for the “rosacea” that I had no idea that I was burdened with, and them smirked at my shocked expression) — “he just flits about. The two of them are thick as thieves, always giggling over things and buying each other gifts for each others’ homes (this from back when he had a home, where he paid actual rent, rather than sponging) and talking decorating, like a couple of old queens”.

A hilarious, and highly ambitious, lie, that of me having my hand out, considering the source and considering that I have supported myself all my life, in my own apartments, since I graduated from high school, including paying my entire college tuition and rent at the same time, working two jobs till I cut down to one at age 35 which is, coincidentally,  the age at which he finally moved to his own apartment, after finally growing tired, in his own words, of his friends calling him a “Mama’s boy”.

At around this same time he began his scheming with the estate lawyer — “I can take a day off work and drive out from Boston to go to the meetings if you like. But I have already used all my days watching mom while you and dad took vacations so if you don’t need me then I won’t bother. I trust you“. Fucking hilarious last words, now — to not only get the big prize, the house, but also to get every penny meant for me.

“Mom always made the shittiest steaks. They were so thin and tough.”

“WHAT?  The Martyr, can you possibly not know how poor we were? Did you think the whole, “Hey! Let’s have breakfast for dinner” thing was because pancakes from a ready-made mix with fake syrup were so delicious and healthy? Why do you think dad always worked two jobs and we didn’t eat in restaurants and every vacation was spent in tents a short drive away? Do you not remember all the talk of medical bills killing us and being why Grammie and Grampie slipped mom money, because dad was too proud, then, so he said, to take their money? Were you that self-absorbed?”

The Martyr is a bit obtuse and self-occupied, but I guess I don’t blame him. I will get to the why of all this.

One night, late…

“Dad, can I talk to you? I am wondering if you can maybe tone down all the talk of ____’s kids living in McMansions (my word/take, given the size of the houses as compared to the little lots they were built on) and making so much money? The Martyr has told me that is greatly upsets him and makes him feel like a failure so I am wondering if, for his sake, you can sorta tone it down. He has talked to me about this and so I am asking you on his behalf. He is very sensitive, as you know.

Also, WHY don’t parents ever brag about how their kids turned out to be such kind people, or brag about the volunteer work they do? Remember the time Nate (not my older brother’s real name, may he RIP) came to you and suggested that you become a contractor since you do construction in your part time anyway, and because you would make so much more money? You blew up at him, you were so very angry at that, and lectured him on how money is not as important as doing what you love, and how you love teaching so much regardless of what it pays and will never worship at the altar of money. I totally do not get how that aligns with all the mentions of whose kids are making the most money and what fancy material things they have, as if you are in awe of that.”

“Dad, can I talk to you? The martyr is freaking out because you are suddenly using The Mole’s name in every sentence and he is having trouble adjusting to the fact that you are dating someone other than mom. Can you just try to sort of ease him into the situation? I have no issue with this woman and look forward to meeting her — and my philosophy is the more the merrier — but TM is freaking. He is till not over mom’s death so maybe just try to be cognizant of that and try to scale it down? there is nothing wrong with it and we all do it but in this case it is causing him to jump up and run out of the room a lot, lip trembling. Could you do that?”

NEXT: THE “HILARIOUS’ JOKES ABOUT THE FUNERAL PLOTS, AND MORE…

I, Petunia, will be back.Every day, as promised to my therapist, whom I will call Theresa, bc she has been my Mother Theresa.

PIXY103.com

Some Beautiful work…

Posted in art, Artists, BUY LOCAL HOLIDAY GIFTS HOLYOKE MASSACHUSETTS, BUY LOCAL HOLIDAY GIFTS NORTHAMPTON MASSACHUSETTS, Honesty, lessons in Art, LOCAL WESTERN MASS ARTISTS, LOCAL WESTERN MASS HOLIDAY SHOPPING, LOCAL WESTERN MASSACHUSETTS ARTWORK FOR SALE, LOCAL WESTERN MASSACHUSETTS HOLIDAY SHOPPING, Love Thy Fellow Man, MANNERS, Special People, The meaning of life, The Process of Art, Thoughts on December 16, 2012 by Admin

that I felt I must share.

I have been following Tracey’s work for years and delighting as it gets better and better. Her use of color is astonishing  and her composition is delightful and yet mysterious!

Someday I am going to own a Tracey Physioc Brockett.

“On my Home Health visits I see the effects of war, the wearing down of age, the ravages of disease, the entropy of life. As well as stories of pain and loneliness, of loss, there is love, joy, beauty and above all hope. Sometimes when I am tired and overworked, I forget to look out the window as I drive, to see the sights. Sometimes, as when I am working with a profoundly deaf woman, it is the light streaming through an old window pane and onto a glass ornament that can spark us to look deep into each other’s eyes. At night, when I am exhausted I ask myself, is this all there is? To eat and sleep and get up and do it all over again, to dress and wash and settle people for the day? Is there a future for this planet where we have done such wonderous things, where there is so much incredible beauty that it makes me hungry for it, even as it is plundered and disregarded, where so many people are taken advantage of, or, worse, ignored? Then I pull out my colours and let my mind quiet, and I paint for all the hurt and beauty of the world. I can not know if it is enough for the future, but it is enough for the NOW.”

~Tracey Physioc Brockett

Tracey Physioc Brockett

Cricket, 2012
Tracey Physioc Brockett

For more work see her website at http://www.physioc.com/, and for mer musings, see her blog at http://physioc.blogspot.com/

Tracey Physioc Brockett

Slow Turn diptych, 38 x 50 inches acrylic and oilstick on paper, 2012

Diagram B; Tennis
30.5 x 31 inches
acrylic and oilstick on paper, 2012

FOR MORE CLICK HERE

For Kevin, who begged

Posted in Thoughts on December 13, 2012 by Admin

For Kevin, who begged

THE KEVIN SERIES: Intricate Polychromatic Art Speak for Incongruous Fun Torturing Kevin

Posted in Activism?, Adventures and Interludes, Being a Virgo, Communication, Confusion, Life is like Christopher Guest said it was, Life Performance Art, Literary, Narcissisim, Pest Control, Philosophy?, Photoshopping Kevin, Special People, The meaning of life, The Process of Art, Therapy, Thoughts with tags on November 26, 2012 by Admin

An old image I found years ago:

which was then modified for an old blog post:
https://benigngirl.wordpress.com/2008/04/05/intricate-polychromatic-art-speak-for-incongruous-fun-and-conflative-prophet/

recycled for THE KEVIN SERIES.

THE KEVIN SERIES: Dissecting The Projectile Photshopping Opus Of My Muse, Kevin

Posted in Activism?, Adventures and Interludes, Being a Virgo, Communication, Confusion, Life is like Christopher Guest said it was, Life Performance Art, Literary, Narcissisim, Pest Control, Philosophy?, Photoshopping Kevin, Special People, The meaning of life, The Process of Art, Therapy, Thoughts with tags on November 26, 2012 by Admin

This is part of a new series I have only just realized I have been working on for days and which I shall post here as both intellectual fluff and bloggerly filler, as I slowly find my way past the crushing pain (I live with NINE herniated disks/sheer pain, daily) and back to the habitualities of blogging regularly.

This blog has been untended for some time yet I realize that with this sort of Spy vs. Spy relationship I have going on Facebook with my pal Kevin, I have created a series of artwork which should be shared with all, for Kevin says and does the craziest things.

After a grueling day spent posting about politics (which hurts my head, even to simply post that which I have observed, for posteriority) my brain needed an exorcism of sorts and so I made ART. I have a new muse, Kevin who, much like Dwight Shrute, is a farmer. Kevin is my muse. Kevin pretends to me angry about this, he rants, he raves, he threatens, and yet if I miss a day he starts baiting me which I smartishly recognize as begging for more.

Also, this is how my brain works:

And so, I present the new and ongoing series (until I become apathetic), Photoshopping Kevin. It begins with random photos stumbled upon in the interwebs and takes on a life of it’s own. So each opus shall include the before image.

I call this one, Dissecting the Projectile Photoshopping Opus Of My Muse, Kevin, With Identities Blurred.

Before:

After:

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