Out of the Gutter Art

Category: love

  • Gone. Baby Gone.

    Gone. Baby Gone.

    The Weight is mine, mine alone. I tried to offer some lame kind of comfort, but I could feel the other pet parents staring right through me...

    .

    A sad situation…

      Pippy herself did not show anger, or hatred; I wish she had. Her gentle, knowing glance as the vets assistant lugged her away unceremoniously drove a spike through my heart.

    “Please take care, ” I whispered, so obviously a vile animal destroyer to the ten plus persons waiting for their babies.

      “WHAT,” the huge matron stopped in her tracks and did a slow spin, somehow holding onto dear queasy Pips in the jostling cage.

      All attention swung in slow motion, onto my horrified visage, the paint splattered clothes just screaming “loser”, “sinner” and “jail her”.

      Now struck dumb in my dismay, I gathered the last tiny drop of spittle I could muster, and in a voice only heard by Pippy and God, I said loud and clearly,

    ” I love you Pippy, and I’m sorry..”

      She heard, she knows and I will carry her in my heart always..

    How fo I say Goodbye?

    CHAPTER 5

       You see, Pippy had some terrible kind of mental breakdown that coincided with the introduction of my neighbor’s cat, Lilly, being brought into the home.

       Almost instantly Lilly pounced on and actively hunted Pippy, terrorizing her. The change in Pippy was swift. No longer social, friendly and well adjusted; Pippy became nervous and unsettled. Hiding, flinching and neglecting to groom. Or, the flip side: overgrooming. To an unbelievable degree.

      Now Pippy would spend hours, every waking moment, actively pulling out her fur. Rapidly, her underbelly was devoid of fur except for a few lonely tufts clinging onto her for dear life.

       Then, when I thought this was the extent of her problems: a disturbing new issue. Out of the blue, on a given Saturday, Pippy had some sort of twitching fit that escalated to her biting at herself and racing full tilt around the trailer. I was also beside myself, deeply regretting my lack of funds to take her to a vet. I called the SPCA to see if they would treat her free, they said, “No, there is no program.” I was at, what I thought at the time, feeling ultimately that I had caused her distress. I alone bore the guilt.

    Pippy knows: it’s me who betrayed her…

      In the aftermath of this episode, Pippy began hiding in the top.of my closet, in my studio. This posed no issue- I was glad she found a cubby hole. Until she refused to come out at all. Not to eat, not to be petted and, most devastating, not using her litterbox.

            To be continued…

    Poor Dear Pippy-puppet…

        I am so guilty…

  • Orange Baby

    Orange Baby

    CHAPTER 4

    THE SAGA CONTINUES

    Morning Mindmeld c.SUSANTMARTIN2022 (sold)

         I got off track in the last chapter…  

       Too many offshoots and alleyways. Let’s move along a few years to 2020…Pandemic lock down, I’m working on Zoom with some friends. Suddenly, Donna breaks in with a plea,

    ” Would anyone like a Maine Coon kitten?”

    All the girls pipe up with ooohs! and aaahs! The idea of a warm, fuzzy kitten is SO appealing, so comforting in this lonely isolation. I was down to just one outside cat, Frenchy. She was pushing 16, Fogerty and Ollie had died the year before. In the interim, I had also lost 2 of my beloved dogs to cancer and old age. My remaining little Shih Tzu, Kleo, had become much less active as she aged. Perhaps a kitten would be a nice addition to my little homestead.

       My little “not a Maine Coon” kitten as delivered within 3 days. Super fuzzy, a golden cloud, he is a special boy. I name him Zignatious Horatio Needlefingers, and I fall in love. The new routine wasn’t too bad. One catbox, one kitten, one dog to feed and vet seemed manageable.

       Things rapidly changed. My kind heart was about to be sorely tested. Approximately one month later, I rescued a half-grown boy cat who I found crying his little heart out in my neighbors front hedges. It was after a “fireworks” holiday; he had obviously run away in the horrible onslaught of noise. My biker neighbor had been feeding him lunch meat, but he needed proper care. I bundled him into the house and he quickly became the Zag to my Zig. They were now happy playmates. But the vet bills and catboxes had now doubled.

       WHY DID I ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE SAVIOR? WHAT CHARACTER DEFECT MADE ME A SUCKER FOR LOST ANIMALS?

      

       Looking back now, I understand the pattern. I had been a mother to my alcoholic, abusive husband. The caregiver for my beloved Mom during her illness- even before. She was so needy all my life, telling me she “lived through me”. Finally, being mother/ caregiver to my dear Dad. Caring for his every need as his madness progressed into a second childhood and excruciatingd death. All those years of caregiving through all those events made me feel needed, wanted, and useful. Loved.

       The convoluted and traumatic relationships and disfunction had left me with a void, a pit inside me. And I was filling it with warm, furry little bodies. Ever the caregiver, ever the mother. My self-worth depended on having people and/or pets to care for. 

       It would get worse.

  • I Miss My Friend Tonight

    I Miss My Friend Tonight

    This is for You, Beverly…

    My heart hurts.

    I miss your phone calls,

    every morning: 9 am

    Your voice cheerful

    Joking, coaxing me to rise

    To shine-Sleepyhead

    I’m sorry I snapped at you

    Once, maybe twice

    I wish you’d call now.

    I would laugh, and cry

    Happy tears.

    You wanted people to cry

    When you died; it means they love you so

    So I love you so I love you so

    I’d even rub your tiny feet

    And not complain…

    Now you are sleeping

    And you won’t call

    So I will cry, and eat ice cream…

    Because we did that together, you and I

    I will miss you Bevvie Green.

    You are a superstar ❤️

    My Beverly, in Her Favorite Purple Dress

    .

  • Bear With Me!!

    Bear With Me!!

    As I Forge New Territory!!

    Dear Readers and Friends,

    I’ve had a presence here for a long time. Going on 16 years, which is mind-blowing! And I still havent learnd all I can do here! I wanted, for a long time now, to set up a store where I could sell my art. Something always holds me back… Excuses, lack of confidence…life in general.

    I recieved a scholarship for a 10 week “Art Business” course from the Tampa Bay Innovation Center and Creative Pinellas. I have learned so much, and have taken the plunge and registered a LLC. Oh boy. Exciting! and Terrifying! I will have to be all grown up now, and quit farting around!!

    So I am starting a whole new site, with a new domain, user name, everything…I will try to still post my “hardcore” art here, all the strange stuff that pours out of me onto whatever media is at hand!

    But for my “real” Art Business I am going to make what sells here in Beachy, Touristy Florida. Hopefully I will make it. I will sure try!

    I’ll come back here and let Y’all know when the other site is ready, and I will still share my witty wisdom here. Thank you all so much for being here to support me, to listen when I need an outlet, and to be here! Rock On my Friends!!

  • A CLEAN SLATE

    A CLEAN SLATE

    oh so WHITE AND SHINY…

    Waiting for my pen, for my brush. I just cant stand the barrenness of it, stretching of into the infinite distance, saying nothing.

    I cant sit in silence either, in a social setting. I would be awful in an interrogation, babbling mindlessly- wait… not mindlessly. I do get chatty, but I always have something to say. The word “mindless” comes from tapes of a past life, a life that included words like “stupid”, “silly”, “crazy” and “dumb”. I am none of those things.

    It is 26 years now since I was physically with my last abuser, 24 years since my last drink, my last drug. I have worked tirelessly these past two and one half decades to become the real person I am today. It is truly a beautiful thing to be alive and in this space.

    I could wax poetic about my own marvelousness, (after all I am pretty cool…) but I would rather talk about you. You, my fellow human, out there wishing and wanting. I know it’s hard being you. I know you have reasons for not trying. put that aside for one moment, and give yourself a chance to succeed.

    I had someone tell me once, I think it was a person in AA, “Do the next right thing”

    THE NEXT RIGHT THING

    It will be the thing that raises your head up. The thing that makes you wipe your tears away. The thing that you do to believe in goodness again, the goodness inside you. You have not wasted time on this journey, that is not possible, because it took everything that came before to be right here, right now.

    I am really surprised that I feel as good as I do. Years upon years of hating myself, hating my life, hating society. I was angry and hard, and reveled in the pain. It was such a lonely place, even though I was surrounded my all kinds of angry people just like me. We all roared and growled together in our ugliness. I never saw myself surviving, never saw a way out. So I never tried. I believed all the lies I was told, I was a loser, a basket case, a burn out.

    I thought I loved my abuser, my “friends”, my family. I thought I was loved in return. But in reality, I had no concept of love. I thought it was possession, ownership. I had so many misconceptions, and they kept me in chains.

    So what changed, what happened that let me get out of that life? A series of events I never saw coming. A prayer answered that I thought I could no longer utter. A forgiveness so vast and profound that I finally felt the love and acceptance I was looking for my entire life. I allowed my God in. I told him how broken I was. and I asked him to lead me thru the maze.

    That was all I knew to ask. I was lost in a jungle and needed someone to lead me out, into the light.

    That was many years ago, and I have lived thru many heartaches, lost my loved ones, suffered major life upheavals and felt unimaginable pain. Just like we all have. But I don’t hate myself anymore. I am not desolate and lost anymore. I feel the joy of true friendship, and I have learned how to be a true friend.

    Please, my friend, keep pushing on. You will find the light. You matter. You are loved even though you may not believe it yet. There is always a reason to live, just do the next right thing. If you picked that needle up again, put it down again. I cant tell you how many times I tried and failed. But somehow I found a way to try again. You really are worth every effort.

    I would always tell myself , “KEEP PUSHING ON.”

    Please do.

  • The Days of Trouble Begin

    The Days of Trouble Begin

    A guy can be going along so well, everything chugging along, when suddenly; the bottom falls out of the world. Just when it seemed like smooth sailing.

    Is that shocking to me? Shouldn’t be. I’ve felt like Wile. E Coyote many times. This time was different. This time is different.

    Until the day comes that I can speak, I will paint. I will draw. And I will carry the Hurt. But it WILL NOT defeat me.

    Inside I am safe, free, loved, cherished.

  • Where is Captain Jack?

    Where is Captain Jack?

    STUCK IN THE DOLDRUMS…

    waiting for the TIDE…

    There was a song I knew, back in my past life(when I was that other ‘cooler’ girl) entitled “When Will It Rain”. It plays in my head now: I walk on parched ground in my mind, thru a sweltering heat in a huge, empty landscape. Begging for the rain of Creativity to wash this dry spell away, saturate the soil of my aching mind, send cooling rivulets of inspiration into the cracks and fissures…

    In one of the “Pirates” movies, the ship was stuck in the Doldrums. A very real occurrence for sailing vessels, this is a dire situation for the crew as the film depicts. I can imagine their suffering, stuck virtually motionless in the very water that also gave them so much bounty at other times of year.

    Such is my plight as a Bipolar artist. Who knows, maybe all artists, all people, go through periods of feast followed by famine. Maybe I just feel it more acutely, or respond to it differently. This ‘stuckness’ is deadly for me, it frightens me into believing that my artistic talent is gone forever, like a well run dry. In reality, it is natural to experience some down time, it is even recommended to take vacations to ‘recharge’ and ‘renew’.

    I know in my heart that I will be in fire with creative endeavors soon, and I will successfully sail to the next sighted port of call…but my disease tells me I’m dying in this vessel, surrounded by all the paint in the world, and not being able to lift my brush…

    • KODAK Digital Still Camera
    • Passed On©STMartin2010
    • The Hiding Hunter
    • Me, doodle?
    • Susan Past ©STM2018
    • my Isolation Helmet
    • The New Way Home by S. T. Martin
    • MEGAMOONMANIA c.STMARTIN2010
    • peace ever after…
  • Painting My Heart Out

    Painting My Heart Out

    Woo Hoo ! I am an artist WHIRLWIND again! Hang on, cause art is flowing out of me in a torrent, and I need more hands. I am happy to be out of “funk town” for a while! I entered six shows in the past month and now have 5 paintings accepted into these shows . Four of the five shows. I can’t believe how things snowball. The piece above is a Work in Progress, one of my Surrealist pieces, with a working title of Angry Birds, a little pun on the silly game people play on their devices. I’m rethinking that right now, I may put people off by that. But who cares if I like it, right? Naming Art is the Artist’s privelege. Kind of like children; you made it, you name it! And here’s a fun little twist…how many Birds do you see?

    I painted what I believe to be my best piece as far as figurative art, it’s an acrylic mixed media piece which is a statement piece about justice and human trafficking…It is named “Stuck in Traffic (Framed) and I will post it, and the one mentioned above as soon as I sign them in a few minutes here… Be patient, I had to lie down for a minute. I decided a while back that I must sign my work before I post it online… Silly, really, you can’t stop the thievery no matter what you do, if you decide to post your art online. I recently read a piece considering the benefit vs risk of putting your art online. If you decide not to you are missing out on reaching millions of people, perhaps billions. If you want to sell your art, and/or share it with an audience, then the risk is one you must take. Unless of course you are going to let it spead just by word of mouth. Then it would take 100 years telling 5 people a day to reach 182,500 people, if they did not tell anyone else. If each one told 5 others then… wait a minute, you get the idea. It would take a long time.

    Impressionism is my dearest love, and I hope one day to paint like Pissaro, or maybe Gauguin… Of course I have my own style, and I concentrated more on my brushwork in this piece, and multicolored skin to show my feelings rather than accurate realism. I especially love the dramatic shadows, I tried to be brave! Like I’m not passionate enough, right? I’m proud of the results! I will list all the shows I’m in in the next few days, with their websites and dates…