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Category Archives: writing

so many kinds of yes

11 Wednesday Apr 2018

Posted by in culture, gratitude, health, kindness, mental health, tattooing, Uncategorized, writing

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I have a rule for myself: if I get an idea for a tattoo I want, I have to wait a year before I can get it. If I still want it a year later, then it’s not likely that I’ll regret the tattoo later in life. Well, it’s been more than a year since I got the idea for this tattoo, and 6 years since my last tattoo, so I decided it was time. Plus, I’ve never been tattooed by my tattoo mentor Julio, and I own a freakin’ tattoo shop. Julio had a little free time today, so I chained him to his tattoo chair and put him to work, even though today is his birthday (everyone say “Happy Birthday, Julio!!!!”).

My dad kept a magazine picture, of a little girl from a third world country carrying a jug of water on her head, in his music room to remind him that it could always be worse and that he really had it very good. It was one of the ways he dealt with his own depression. It helped him keep his life in perspective. To me, the picture just depressed me more, because not only did her situation not actually make my brain any more functional, but it frustrated me both that the world would allow her to have to live like that and that I couldn’t do anything about it. Reminding myself that I have an easy life just made me angrier that I still wasn’t able to be happy.

So instead, I’m choosing to just keep reminding myself to look for the good that’s all around me. Thank you Mr. Rogers. I have a stanza from an ee cummings poem printed out and taped onto the lightswitch in my art studio so that I see it coming and going. It’s a reminder that spring is always present in a million little ways if I just look hard enough. The color is there. The poem is called Sweet Spring, and the stanza I keep up is

(such a sky and such a sun

i never knew and neither did you

and everybody never breathed

quite so many kinds of yes)

I’m not spending much time in the art studio these days, because I’m busy learning a new way to make a living as an artist and spending all my time at the tattoo studio. I’m working to shape my life into what I want it to be and grabbing every opportunity that comes my way. I’m making all that color mine. When I can. And when I can’t, maybe my tattoo will remind me that there are just

so many kinds of yes.jpg

 

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The Gift of Words

04 Monday Dec 2017

Posted by in art, book, dementia, Fractured Memories, humor, painting, Uncategorized, writing

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I have words, y’all. Great words. And I put those words in a book. A great book. I also have paintings, y’all. Great paintings. And I put those paintings in the same book, which makes it not just a great book, but a fanfreakingtastic book.

You have friends and family, y’all. Great friends and family. You know what they need for holidays? My book (if you didn’t see that coming, I’m worried about you).

What’s the book about? Life and stuff – mostly life with dementia. But you don’t need to have experience with dementia to relate to the book. Check out a summary and buy a print copy here. Or read reviews and buy an eBook here (you can also buy a print copy here, but I make virtually nothing on sales on Amazon, so it’d be great – and cheaper for you – to buy them copies through my website).

Book cover 1

Cassie Bustamante’s Review

05 Thursday Oct 2017

Posted by in blog, book, dementia, Fractured Memories, gratitude, Uncategorized, writing

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This whole real estate thing is still madness, but I’ve had some time to paint and will hopefully be posting a new painting soon. Distraction is good right now, between the stress of daily life and the trauma we’re feeling as a nation following the shooting in Vegas. If any of you are in need of a little distraction, too, here are some book reviews Cassie Bustamante posted, including one of my book, Fractured Memories. And while you’re there, look around the rest of her blog. She’s got great decorating ideas and a project gallery.

Know a caregiver, or someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone who knows someone else who’s a caregiver? Or heck, do you know a person? Well, you should tell them about my book, Fractured Memories: Because Demented People Need Love, Too. Part memoir and part coffee table art book, I recount my family’s heartbreaking and hilarious journey through my father’s dementia. Available to purchase here (this is my favorite way if you live in the U.S.), here or here if you’d rather get the eBook than a print copy, and here (especially if you want a hard cover copy).

Book cover 1

Granted, They Should Be Thanked

05 Monday Jun 2017

Posted by in art, book, culture, gratitude, kindness, painting, Uncategorized, writing

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You may remember that, last year, I applied for and received a grant to help me publish Fractured Memories. I realized that I never properly or publicly acknowledged who provided the grant, and I want to do that now. The United Arts Council of Raleigh and Wake County essentially sponsored the book with a generous grant. I’m preparing my final report for them now that the book is complete and out there for the world to see, and realized that I definitely spent way more than the grant awarded, but it was absolutely invaluable in two ways: 1) it allowed me to justify taking some time off from teaching classes because I knew that it was paying for me to hire my instructors to cover those shifts, and 2) it affirmed for me that the project was worth pursuing. We all need a little external affirmation now and then, and getting it from an “official” arts program gave me more confidence going into the writing and publishing process.

So a huge thank you goes out to the United Arts Council of Raleigh and Wake County for helping achieve a dream and further my career as an artist in many senses of the word.

Holla!

18 Thursday May 2017

Posted by in art, blog, book, death, dementia, Fractured Memories, humor, karma, kindness, painting, Uncategorized, writing

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Just got another great review of the book by a book blogger! Hollaaaaaa! Check it out on her blog, Brittany Reads, or read it below:

“Fractured Memories: Because Demented People Need Love Too by Emily Page is a profoundly raw account of one family’s experience of caring for a father with frontotemporal dementia (FTD).  The story is told from the perspective of an adult daughter (the author) who is caring for her father along with her husband and her mother. The book has three parts.  This first part of the book is much like a traditional memoir, with the author’s experience recounted in a narrative.  The second part of the book reads a bit like a series of journal entries, raw and largely unedited recounts of caring for her father.  The author is an artist, and the third part of the book is a series of paintings she created that out of her caregiving experience.

The author’s love for her father is the greatest testament of this book.  Yes, the author becomes angry, emotionally frayed and anxiety-ridden in the seven years she cared for her father, and sometimes those emotions are even directed at her father.  But she never walks from the situation. Underneath all the difficult emotion was an abundantly present love of a daughter. The first chapter recounts her father’s life before his diagnosis. It’s a beautiful celebration of his life before dementia, including his sense of humor, his extraordinary passion for trains and music, and his time as a First Lieutenant in the Vietnam War.

Frontotemporal dementia is described as disease of a thousand goodbyes, like slowly losing the person you love in stages.  The author writes:

“When I got home, I, of course, got online and started researching the disease. What I saw was not good. Asshole internet, which so very often lies, refused to lie to me that night. The symptoms all matched: odd social behavior (disinhibition), inability to make changes or follow complicated instructions, heightened emotion, depression. Treatment was aimed at managing symptoms, not slowing or stopping the disease. There were no medications for that. Prognosis: death two to ten years after diagnosis, probably from pneumonia after aspirating food because of muscle failure. Two to ten years. Two to ten years. Two to ten years.”

This book leveled me.  I openly wept several times while reading it, especially in the second part of the book that read like a series of mostly unedited journal entries. I learned a great deal about the impact dementia has on a family. I also learned a great deal about how to advocate for someone living with this terrible disease.

The writing style is casual, and portions of the book read like an email from a friend.   It took a while for me to adjust to the casual style. I very much enoyed the artwork throughout the book.  The author uses images of elephants to portray herself, her father, and dementia itself because “an elephant never forgets” and “An elephant’s faithful 100 percent.”  The book ends with a list of songs, a playlist of the music that was mentioned throughout the book and has a special meaning or memory tied to the author and her father.  Fractures Memories is a must read for anyone who loves or cares for anyone living with dementia.”

And now, take a moment to read some of her other book reviews to find some other great new indie authors!!

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If you’d like to see my ridiculous thoughts translated into art, visit my website, or follow me on Facebook and Twitter. Know a caregiver, or someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone who knows someone else who’s a caregiver? Or heck, do you know a person? Well, you should tell them about my book, Fractured Memories: Because Demented People Need Love, Too. Part memoir and part coffee table art book, I recount my family’s heartbreaking and hilarious journey through my father’s dementia. Available to purchase here (this is my favorite way if you live in the U.S.), here or here if you’d rather get the eBook than a print copy, and here (especially if you want a hard cover copy).

Guest Post: Letters To Strabo

12 Friday May 2017

Posted by in book, Uncategorized, writing

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While I’m away, I asked some blogger friends to guest post for me. David Smith, from https://davidsmithauthor.blog/, was kind enough to agree to it. He’s got a new romantic, coming of age book that was recently released. Here’s a slightly tongue-in-cheek interview with the “store manager of Shakespeare and Company.” Check out his book!

David Smith guest blog:

Publicity Interview at Shakespeare and Company, a bookshop in Paris, with best-selling author Adam Finnegan Black for his latest novel Letters to Strabo

(with apologies to Before Sunset)

stabo.jpg

 

Bookstore Manager: So Adam Black, welcome back to Shakespeare and Company, it’s been almost thirty years, hasn’t it?

Adam Black: It has indeed, but it’s great to be back. I see you still have the famous sign upstairs.

Manager:  “Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise?” Yes, of course. Now, tell me about the title of your latest novel Letters to Strabo, well my first question is: who is Strabo?

Adam: Strabo was a Greek scholar, writing at the time of Tiberius. He wrote the most comprehensive geography of the Roman world, but it was hardly used until translations in the fifteenth century. I came across it by accident when researching the opening of my book which is set in Olana, the amazing house of the American painter Frederick Church in the Catskills. His wife gave him a copy in 1879 and they named their house Olana after a location cited in the book.

Manager: And I see you replicated both Strabo’s chapter structure but also a similar journey Mark Twain made for his own travel book: The Innocents Abroad.

Adam: Yes, Twain was a friend of the Churches and a great travel writer too. There are some fascinating stories about him and his daughters that I’ve weaved into the plot.

Manager: And why did you call your protagonist Finn, exactly?

Adam: Well, my middle name’s Finnegan and it sort of has a Mark Twain link with Huckleberry Finn and to James Joyce too with Finnegan’s Wake. Strabo often referred to Homer and The Odyssey, which is the inspiration for Joyce’s other masterpiece Ulysses.

Manager: I see, so is it actually a travel book or a book about literature?

Adam: Well, partly both, but it’s mainly a romance, a sort of coming-of-age story. Finn falls for Eve, the archivist at Olana and they correspond throughout his journey round Europe. He has quite a lot of adventures along the way and relates them more or less faithfully to Eve. Her replies are the Letters to Strabo, in which she gradually reveals more about herself. Some of it increasingly disturbing I’m afraid, but you’ll have to read it to find out more about that. I don’t want to spoil it for you.

After some more background, the bookshop manager opens the floor up to questions

French Journalist 1: So do you consider the book to be autobiographical in any way?

Adam: Well I guess everything is autobiographical in a way. There are bits of me in there, but bits of a lot of other people I’ve met too.

French Journalist 1: And the section set here in Paris, in this very bookstore. Was that about you?

Adam: Well, I was here about the same time as Finn visited yes, but the events are of course completely fictional…

French journalist 2: So there was never a girl called Françoise that you met in Spain and travelled with by train to Paris?

Adam: Well, that’s not important; it’s just a story after all

French Journalist 1: Do you think they ever met again after they split up in Venice? In real life I mean?

Adam: No. I’m afraid that I don’t think they ever did, sorry would have done.

French Journalist 2: Maybe a subject for your next book?

Adam: Maybe.

At the back of the room he notices a face in the crowd, a beautiful woman wearing dark glasses. He leans over to the bookshop manager and whispers.

Adam: Look, I’m terribly sorry but I will have to leave now. I have a plane to catch and still have to shop for my wife.

Manager: No problem…Well thank you Adam, we really appreciate you coming here today. I hope you won’t leave it so long next time!

Adam gets up, talks to one or two admirers and then goes over to the woman waiting patiently.

Adam: Françoise?

The woman: I said you’d include me in one of your books one day.

Adam: And I said I wouldn’t ever do that

The woman: Menteur, I think you already did. Do you want to go for coffee somewhere?

Adam: I think I’m gonna miss that plane.

 

Author’s bio

David Smith is a British author who has now published four works under the Troubador imprint. His first novel Searching For Amber has been described as “A powerful and notably memorable debut” with a review describing it as “masterly and confident” and another as “Extraordinary, poetic, enchanting, sublime”. In addition to writing, he is currently CFO of a blue chip UK public company and lives near the South Coast in England with his wife and three teenage children.

https://www.davidsmithauthor.blog

Guest Post: Ben’s Bitter Blog

07 Sunday May 2017

Posted by in art, blog, humor, Uncategorized, writing

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There’s this bitterly funny blog I follow called Ben’s Bitter Blog. Read one of my favorite posts here. He cracks me up on a regular basis, so I asked him to guest post while I’m living it up in France for the next couple weeks. Who knew he’d compliment me in his post? A girl can never get enough of that. Read his post below, then go check out his blog and maybe offer him a job so he can afford his all-pizza diet:

As a long time follower of Emily, she has graced me with the opportunity to guest post for her on a number of occasions. And as a bitter person, that thinks his time is valuable, I’ve always said yes, and then subsequently forgotten about it, pretended to be too busy, then left her hanging like a banana on a tall tree. Enough was enough this time though. I’ve always been really honored that she would want me, an uncooth and bitter old man to guest post for her. In contrast to my bitter old man routine, she is this amazing artist that works on a number of mediums. I’ve always been envious of the talented. I’m especially envious of my daughter (who I gave 50% of her genes!) who already can draw a stick figure much better than me.

There are two things that I know about art. First, art is subjective. While an untrained eye like me can appreciate all kinds of art like cartoons, comic strips, and super realistic art, there are some that I just can’t appreciate. I can’t believe these artists who draw dots, although really amazingly precise dots, that take almost no talent or creativity at all, except for the talent of swindling a super rich gentleman or lady to buy this “work of art” for more than a penny.  In that case, they should be salesman or criminals, because a dot should not be worth any kind of money. The only thing that dot should be worth is the dot in front of .01 (a penny). (Speaking of which, a penny to Emily actually means something. Ask her about the significance sometime.)

The other thing I know about art is that there are all kinds of different art. For instance, there are baseball pitchers that are so good at their craft, that they can pitch a 100 mile an hour pitch so precisely that it can “paint a corner” of the strike zone, or an architect that is so precise in his measurements that he can build the plans of a building that is 100 stories high, that lasts a 1000 years.

In other words, we can all be artists, but I think it takes a few things. I bet Emily will tell you that for her to be an artist, there are a few characteristics you need. First, you have to have a passion for what you do. I’m pretty sure if she was only doing her art for the money, she would be doing commercial advertising or graphic artistry somewhere. She has a passion for art, despite the fact that she isn’t making a million dollars for her various artistic mediums that she does.

Second you have to have a talent for it, and you need to work at it. Some people are the most naturally talented people at doing something, but they don’t work at it. I think that naturally gifted people that don’t work at something, can lose the talent and I think that is sad. I often wish I could sketch or draw or sculpt like some people I know, but have never been given the gift. But I’d rather be bad at something and try really hard, than be really good at something and not really work at that talent.

Which is why I blog. For years, I had this talent of humor and the talent of writing (and bitterness) and I never did anything with it. Until I read about a gentleman that was bad at something and he decided to work at it until he became good at it.

I may never be good at drawing, but I am good at doctoring words in a way that others aren’t good at. And not sharing that talent would be a shame. So get out there, find what you are good at, and share that art. Whether it is drawing, painting the corners, writing, engineering, accounting, or even making concrete smooth on a sidewalk. Everyone is an artist in some way, and when they share their art it makes the world a better place.

Oh and there is one more thing I’m good at. Shameless promotion. So, check our my blog at www.bensbitterblog.com and subscribe to it, follow it, share it with a celebrity that will promote it for me, so I can get rich.

ARRRRGGGHHH

Bitter Art is for Everyone Ben

Why Did I Ever Become An Artist?!

03 Wednesday May 2017

Posted by in art, culture, humor, mental health, painting, singing, sip and paint studio, Uncategorized, writing

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Uuuuuuuggggghhhhhh. Why did I become an artist? Why can’t I be good at coding, or rocket science, or accounting, or marrying rich men? Why do I have to be good at something that is so damn hard to make a living doing? I need to rearrange the room-where-art-goes-to-die so that I can bury more art in it. I’m out of art storage space. I mean, really, that room is so embarrassing I’m not even going to share a picture with you.

But Emily, you say, you do make a living as an artist. Don’t you own a paint and sip studio? Yes, yes I do. Which means what I’m really making a living at is teaching. Yes, I’m teaching people to play with paint, but that’s not the same things as being an artist.

What they don’t tell you in art school is that you’ll need to spend more time marketing your art than creating it. This holds true for other kinds of art, too: acting, singing, writing…pretty much everything for which I have any vague talent. Hell, I wrote a damn book full of pictures and words and chortles and sniffles and now am overwhelmed trying to just sell one book every couple weeks. I am not a marketer. I hate sales. Schmoozing is my worst nightmare. And when you’re selling your art, you’re selling yourself as much as the painting or manuscript or recording. Selling should really just be called begging. I often say that I’m not a writer despite this blog and my book, and I think one of the reasons for that is that I’m hesitant to own yet one more thing I’ll never make a living doing.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m really-uber-super-extra spinning my wheels. I’ve tried so many things to get my work out there, and none have panned out. I’m tired of feeling like a failure. It’s not that I doubt the quality of my work, it’s that I doubt my ability to get it seen by the people most likely to buy it (whoever the hell those people are). I get shut down so easily by rejection, so it’s really hard for me to keep pushing and rolling with them as they come. I am, admittedly, too sensitive. I hate that about myself, and I’m trying to toughen up, but so far, I’m still all soft and squishy.

And so, as happens every couple years, I find myself in an existential crisis: how do I justify spending so much time, money, and effort making art that’s just going to sit in our third bedroom collecting dust? Do I really need to paint? Could I just…stop? What would that be like? Do I do it because it’s a habit or because it’s what I’m passionate about? I don’t read art magazines or follow the latest art trends. I studied art history in college, but I’m still woefully ignorant and disinclined to correct said ignorance. So if art isn’t in my blood per se, then why the hell do I keep doing it? Boredom? Maybe I just need another hobby. Maybe I should take up wingsuit flying, or collecting swords, or falconry. I swear, half the time painting’s not even fun. There’s always a step or two you have to get through to get to the good stuff. But then, I guess, half the time it is fun, and maybe that’s why I keep going? Though the let down when I add a new painting to the piles of other art that haven’t found a forever home (or maybe they have, and it’s in storage, which is even sadder) kinda negates the fun of making it.

I’m leaving in a couple days for a trip down the Seine with my mom. I’ll be gone for about 2 weeks. I’ll be bringing my watercolors, but maybe I’ll experiment with not painting for awhile and see how that feels. Maybe I’ll see so much great art on the trip that I won’t feel like I need to make more. Maybe there’s already enough. Or maybe I’ll be totally inspired and feel like I absolutely have to waste more time and energy. We’ll see.

Anyway, I’ve lined up a couple guest blogs and will post some old paintings and such while I’m gone so you don’t end up totally bereft without me. Drink some French wine in my honor until I return! Or better yet, drink some bourbon.

old tub

This bottle has my name all over it. This is what happens when you talk about bourbon all the time: your friends bring you awesome gifts like this!

Harass Your Local Librarian – But In a Really Nice Way

21 Tuesday Mar 2017

Posted by in art, book, death, dementia, family, Fractured Memories, gratitude, humor, karma, kindness, Uncategorized, writing

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It’s official! I shipped out over 200 copies of Fractured Memories today. It was a little bit of a fiasco at the post office, but after about an hour, everything was out of our hands and safely in the hands of the awesome postal workers. I had mixed emotions sending them off. It was kind of like kicking my babies out of the nest for them to fly on their own. Part of me wanted to keep them safe at home and part of me wanted to get all those boxes the hell out of my living room. By sending them out, I open myself up to critique, and I suck at handling criticism, even when it’s well-intended. I know bad reviews will come. Not everyone will like it, but all I can do now is cross my fingers and hope that a majority will. And maybe some of those people will like it enough that they’ll tell other people about it. Hint, hint. Like, maybe people will post it on their social media or have their book group read it or…

If you haven’t ordered it because you’re short on cash, consider requesting it from your local library. And ask your friends to request it, too. If librarians get enough requests, they’ll procure copies for their library. If you have ordered it because you’re not short on cash, first of all, congratulations on all the money! Second, consider requesting it from your local library anyway! Then, when you pick it up, thank them profusely and threaten to stuff them full of cookies until they’re sick if they don’t read it themselves. In other words, harass them, but be really nice about it. Librarians can really drive book sales. If they find a great book, they tell each other and recommend it to readers. Maybe tell them if they recommend it to people, a unicorn will visit them in the middle of the night and leave presents and money like Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Or maybe don’t say that because we don’t want them to know how cray-cray you really are. Rein that shit in, people.

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Thanks so much for reading my ridiculous thoughts! If you’d like to see my ridiculous thoughts translated into art, visit my website, or follow me on Facebook and Twitter. Know a caregiver, or someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone who knows someone else who’s a caregiver? Or heck, do you know a person? Well, you should tell them about my book, Fractured Memories: Because Demented People Need Love, Too. Part memoir and part coffee table art book, I recount my family’s heartbreaking and hilarious journey through my father’s dementia. Available to purchase here (this is my favorite way if you live in the U.S.), here or here if you’d rather get the eBook than a print copy, and here (especially if you want a hard cover copy).

book-cover-1

 

A Story About Publishing a Story

28 Tuesday Feb 2017

Posted by in book, dementia, Fractured Memories, Uncategorized, writing

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This is a story about writing and publishing a story. The first thing you should know is that it miiiiight have been a mistake to self-publish, but then again, it might not. I will say that I regret a couple things, and in hopes that I can save other authors some heartache, I’m going to share the mistakes I’ve made (so far, because let’s be honest, I’m going to make more of them).

Thing one that I regret: I opted to run a crowdfunding campaign through Publishizer instead of through Indiegogo or Kickstarter. I went into it not realizing that Publishizer would take a way bigger cut of the money I raised than those other sites do. I also thought that they would be hooking me up with legitimate publishers. Not the case. They just pitch your idea mostly to vanity publishers, who don’t really need to be pitched. Vanity publishers just want to get paid to publish your book. So not really helpful there, and certainly not worth an extra 20% of the money I raised. There were a couple of actual publishers that approached me, and perhaps I should have considered them more, but I’d heard some horror stories of authors making no money because of poorly managed book launches. And I’d done so well with pre-orders, I decided it was worth my time and effort to promote my own work and not rely on someone else. We’ll see how that works out soon.

Thing two that I regret: the publisher I chose. After speaking to several, I went with BookFuel. Bad idea. Right from the start things started to go wrong. They wouldn’t lay out the book the way I had envisioned. Every step took infinitely longer than it should have. I’d complete a step and send it off to my account manager, then wait a few weeks. I’d finally reach out to check on the status and each and every time it would have magically “just come back” from whatever department it had been in. What a coincidence. Every. Single. Time. And the kicker was that, when I received my sample copies (which were both really low quality), they had changed the formatting from the approved manuscript and eliminated the strike-throughs I’d included. So sentences that should have read something like, “He had raised me not to cry, though I was a giant ball of weepiness considerably less skilled at suppressing my tears,” now read, “He had raised me not to cry, though I was a giant ball of weepiness considerably less skilled at suppressing my tears.” When I alerted them to it, they wanted to charge me to fix it. And the blasted thing is still available on Amazon, even though I’ve asked them to take it down.

So yeah, not happy with BookFuel. I’m still in the process of negotiating with them to terminate our agreement, and hopefully that will be resolved soon. But it’s been an expensive lesson.

All of that being said, I found another company to print my book, and so far am pretty happy with them. With Blurb, I’ve had total control over the layout, the print quality is higher, and it costs me less per book when I buy in bulk. The only down side is that the print-on-demand books (i.e., through Amazon), are more expensive than they would have been through BookFuel so I earn less money when people purchase that way.

So now, without further ado, I’m pleased to announce that the book is finally available for purchase!! There are several ways you can buy:

  1. You can buy the paperback directly from me here. This is my most favoritestest way, because I make the most money on each book and you’ll save a few dollars.
  2. You can buy the hardcover and paperback versions on Amazon here. If you want a hardcover, this is currently your only option. Please note that the first version with the formatting errors is likely still going to show, so to get the right one, you’ll be looking for the one that offers the hardcover for $39.95 and the softcover for $29.95.
  3. You can buy the eBook here and here.

Once you’ve had a chance to read it, and if you liked it, pleeeeeease consider leaving a review on Amazon or GoodReads (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34408526-fractured-memories?from_search=true)or your own blog/social media. And then tell everyone you know!

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