"Give Me An Old Trombone"

I sneeze a lot lately, and one eye waters. It makes me snuggle down and watch things on my phone like water color pencil tutorials and look up recipes for crock pot meat. There is something cozy about having a head cold, providing no one forces you to do anything like, you know, walk around or think.

Tomorrow I have a facial scheduled. I am betting hard that the sneezing fits will be gone by then because otherwise CAN YOU IMAGINE? Right in the middle of an anti aging chemical peel…I sneeze. And get some in my eye. And then go blind.
I like to live on the edge. Which explains why I am getting a facial at the student center for people who are learning to give facials. Stay tuned to see if my desire to save money and look young works out, or if I am red, blotchy and blind, cause it’s kind of a coin toss at this point.

I am working on this thing where I try to do ten minutes of something creative a day. I was a Printmaking Major in college. Recently I realized that I have LITERALLY no idea how to use a printing press anymore. That is how often I have practiced my craft. My blog is another example. Spider webbed and rusty. I console myself in the knowledge that no one reads blogs anymore. However, sometimes I have a secret tiny desire to write a book. That is all well and good, since no one reads books anymore. I’ve realized I don’t care what everyone is doing. Everyone is playing Pokemon Go. I don’t want to play Pokemon Go. I really, really really don’t. Do you know how much Pokemon I have to deal with as it is, sans Pokemon Go phone app? SO MUCH. Do you know what you have to do to write a book? You have to write. And you have to get good at it, which I am figuring out only comes with practice. So I will keep this blog open for no one and for practice.

Boat Driver: Ridiculous Baby Goal

I have spent a lot of time not feeling good enough, and I don’t just mean my cold. I had(to an extent) retired from all things creative because I didn’t feel good enough. It’s that darn perfectionist streak in me. Maybe I’m old now, but I am realizing that I do things for myself, mostly. I enjoy writing, and I enjoy art, in the same way I enjoy Sriracha sauce when I have a head cold. It’s sort of a medicine for my personality. I think my job is just to make things that make me happy and then share them. It’s okay if you don’t like it, there’s room in the world for that. Maybe it’s the ridiculous amounts of old musicals I’ve been watching while I nurse my head cold, but lets make the world lovely together, before the paraaaaaaaaade passes byyyyyyyy.

While watching Hello Dolly! on Netflix, I informed Derrick that I want to be greeted with show tunes every time I enter a room. He said, “That explains a lot.” and proceeded to critique Dolly Levi’s head accoutrement (looks like a dying palm tree), but really wouldn’t it be so fun? Feel free to burst out in song if you see me in real life…especially if Derrick is around.

7 thoughts on “"Give Me An Old Trombone"

  1. July 17th, 2016 936 PM Enjoyed your Blog as usual. You being yourself…being honest being real….being human. I can relate to many things you write about. I am sure many women and men can, too. If not, they are the ones with a problem of being too perfect and expecting others to be the same.

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  2. Sunday July 17th, 2016
    I enjoyed your blog as usual. I always love to hear your honest sharing…allowing yourself to be human…and explaining things in a way people might groan or laugh. Either way, we can somehow relate!!! Thank you JoAnn!!! Looking forward to your next Blog. Until then….

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  3. I still read blogs- and I almost hit some fools catching Pokemon in a parking lot that I was, gasp, driving through.

    I bought a sketch book last month and started drawing. First time since college. It's not good but I love it. Another plus is that my kids were amazed.

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  4. Jo Ann,

    I'm reading and grinning and had missed you. My blogging has dwindled in frequency over the years too, and I too am working on a book, and making myself connect paper with smooth-rolling pen, regardless of the level of ispiration-feeling, because it gives me joy and it makes me come alive.

    Write away. Do your art! Keep coming back to the page, where ever it is. 🙂 I enjoyed Emily P. Freeman's book “A Million Little Ways: Uncover the art you were born to live.”

    Smiling at you,
    Jennifer Dougan
    http://www.jenniferdougan.com

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  5. It's (writing) a medicine for my personality too. And I've forsaken it for many of the same reasons you have, for far too long. May you continue to enjoy siracha and creativity!

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