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Tag Archives: jazz

Trumpet in Red

19 Tuesday Sep 2017

Posted by in art, culture, humor, music, painting, Uncategorized

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I finally managed to organize my studio enough to paint again. It still has a ways to go as I try to find places to store all the crap I brought home when we closed the paint and sip studio, but at least there’s enough table top/easel space to do a little arting. And since it’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day, I thought I’d make today’s post about “arrrrrrrrrrrt.” You’re welcome for that.

I’ve been working on this painting for over a year, and by “working on this painting,” I mostly mean it’s been glaring at me accusingly for long stretches of time while I avoid making eye contact with it. It’s the largest piece I’ve done that is this detailed (and at 16″ x 20″ it’s not even that big, but still), and it was not a happy process for me. Too many straight lines and confusing reflections. Too much thinking required. But I finally took a couple days and powered through and finished the asshole. And now we’re besties. It’s been sitting happily on my easel for a couple days drying and cooing at me and telling me how grateful it is that I finished it.

Trumpet in Red_compressed

Trumpet in Red 16″ x 20″ oil on board 

But all that cooing is starting to get on my nerves ever so slightly. So maybe someone should buy it, like, right now. You can do so here. You can also get prints and other fun stuff here and here.

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Blame It On My Youth

09 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by in death, dementia, family, Fractured Memories, gratitude, music, singing, Uncategorized

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I was going through old files on my computer, and stumbled across this. I had forgotten all about it. It’s one of only a couple recordings my dad and I made together (Dad on sax, me on vocals). I don’t know why we waited until after he had been diagnosed with dementia to sit down and record some music together. We had performed together with his band, The Red Hot Smoothies, a couple times, but we never took it seriously. I guess we always figured there’d be time for that in the future. Plus, as much as I do love it, I’m kind of shy when it comes to singing in front of people. And I looked up to my dad and I think I was always just a little bit afraid that my talent wouldn’t be quite good enough to merit performing with him. That was all me, not him. I know he would have been thrilled if I’d asked earlier. Regrets, y’all. Anyway, blame it on my youth. (be patient, it takes a couple seconds to start)

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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

The Funny Side of Death

30 Wednesday Dec 2015

Posted by in death, dementia, family, humor, music, Uncategorized

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As Dad starts to wind down, my mom and I are trying to prepare for his actual death as best we can. This includes talking about the tough stuff like what cremation service to use, what kind of memorial service to have, where we want to inter or scatter his ashes, etc. We are slowly lining things up so that, when the time comes, we won’t be overwhelmed. This is good, and is helping us emotionally prepare, though I am a little bit concerned that we’ll have taken care of everything and we won’t have anything to do to distract us when his death actually happens. When someone dies, historically, I go into “do” mode. I help plan the service, I clean out the person’s closet, I contact the people who need to be contacted. It keeps me occupied and not wallowing in pain, helping me to cope and to allow the grief to come in a little bit at a time, not as an onslaught. But we’ve been grieving for so long in this instance, that that distancing by “doing” may not be necessary this time around.

As a part of our preparations for my dad’s death, we’ve purchased a grave site and ordered a bench where his ashes can be interred, and that has 3 other spaces for our own ashes someday. We have the option of having something short engraved on the bench. Since Dad will be “getting the most use” out of the bench, it seems appropriate to choose something like lyrics from a jazz tune since Dad was a jazz musician. I’ve been going through my song books looking for options. Here are some of the lyrics I’ve rejected so far:

“I’m a glum one”

“The lady is a tramp”

“I’ve got you under my skin”

“Don’t you know, you fool, you never can win”

“Out cattin'”

“Doo wah doo wah doo wah”

“My heart does not stand still just hear it beat”

“I keep wishing I were somewhere else”

“When you are with me it’s worse”

“I’m limp as a glove”

“Blow your job”

“My new lovers all seem so tame”

“Mental deficient you’ll grade me”

“You’ve cooked my goose”

“I’m suing for damages”

If you have other suggestions from song lyrics (jazz or otherwise), please share them!!