The Perils of Knowing Stuff

How I have read, pondered!

I've even meditated and researched! I have layers of useless information that could make a stone move itself downstream to escape.

The years I have dedicated to deep thinking and wondering where my socks were! A person might think my sacrifice would be right up there with Joan of Arc. I imagined myself  deserving of a paragraph in the annals of Philosophy. Sweating caffeine bullets into the night to find things which I believed you needed to be, "Informed" about. Surely, I thought, my name would be emblazoned with the likes of Plato and Socrates and -and...some other guy. ;)

I've been afflicted with information that I needed to bestow upon the masses more than once, and suffer, I did. So did they. They were not interested in my intellectual generosity much less my bestowing. One learns to develop a peculiar penchant for dodging boulders, or stop that and start learning stuff.I'm still starting, by the way. :)

If you ever find me thinking I know something, run. While unconfirmed, I'm concerned it might be contagious. Unfortunately, in my case, it appears to be chronic.

I'd rather not know a thing or another thing. Knowing means I'm finished learning. Now, I'm certainly inclined to think things, risky as that may be. I suspect a lot of things, but I know nothing. I'm almost sure of it.

Sometimes I come across people who know things. A moment of silence, please for those suffering......

Those poor, tortured souls! Imagine being finished discovering, yet still breathing. Cerebral zombies of enlightenment, and they may well know. Just in case, I walk a wide circle around them, so I don't catch it.It turns out that people warm up more to being my teachers than my proteges. That helps, because I don't know anything. Everyone teaches me something, and the best way I've heard for me to get someone to listen is to...listen.

It's also effective when I want to learn...so far.Curiously, I've found the longer I listen, the more likely it is that I'll hear what I was so bent on sharing put more eloquently than I had planned it, myself.

Annoying, really. ;) In that case, I learn an instance of humility, or that a blow to the ego is not likely to kill me ... yet.

Still learning, and thanks for listening.

tinajonesart

Oh My Darling Cliche: Madness With Peas

I don't recommend English or any other language, not as a first or second form of communication, but more as form of torture. I'm 50 years old. It's my first language, and still I stumble. Try tap dancing instead. You may stub a toe, but it's less painful than dislodging it from the mouth.

I once thought the forlorn sentence, "Never the twain shall meet," meant that I would never have the pleasure of Samuel Clemens over a light dinner with bland chicken and early June peas. I'd never be able to see if he'd chuckle when I told him his name reminded me of lemons and clementines. 

(Samuel Clemens is the name of an American Author of ordinary genius in the opinion of anyone I'd be of a mind to listen to. His pen name was, Mark Twain. I, being a fan of Albert Einstein, and Giorgio Tsoukalous,  struggle to know if it was his mind or his hair that so enchanted, but this is no time for romantic hair ideas.Besides, I loved this guy too.)

Sad as that seemed, and no doubt we'd have gotten along brilliantly, I thought surely there were more tragic events to reference.Turns out, I was only cliched. That alone is reason to cry, and I'd tell it was from Kipling's, "East Meets West," but that would deter and entirely siphon the humor out of this otherwise perfectly melancholy quip. I can't help but wonder what Mark Twain would say about that. I sigh at memories of curling dancers from a pipe, an overgrown mustache, and white tendrils be-smoked with wisdom, and a healthy dose of smart aleck -that will never occur. 

In some twist of heavenly wisdom, I arrived entirely too *later for the company of Mr. Clemens, in a world that's in an awful hurry to go nowhere of any benefit that I can tell. And I have a path too, dreaming of Old Masters and maybe card sharks, and while I'd like to have known you, times are moving on, this chair's beginning to creak or maybe it was my knees. It's getting *laterer, and never the Twain shall meet.

tina jones

Anita, the singing cashier: My Ongoing Understanding of Neurotypicals

I didn't want to bother her. She and two others were standing, waiting at the entrances to their checkout lanes, but I'd already turned in the direction of her aisle, before I noticed she looked a little labored to be standing, and she'd done caught me with the dreaded.....eye contact.. I was stuck. 

   She turned to go the short way to her register to meet me, but someone was blocking her with one of those riding carts. "I'll just go this way," she said, and Anita (so her tag said) went hobbling.

I felt like such a terrible person, until I heard it, "Do, do, doo, do, ...Do, dado-do..." I don't know the tune, but she was, "Do, da,doo-ing" possibly the most pleasant bit of Scat singing I've heard. I was putting my things on the counter when she made it to the register, and I, smiling, said, "It was worth the trip, just for the song." People filed in behind me, and she smiled at my comment, and raised the volume and her smile, whereupon I began, my subtlest of jigs, mostly the shoulders and head...a little arm and hand hula action - nothing overboard. 

 Ah, she sang along, and it was beautiful, and I happily paid for the lettuce and cheese. I took the bags from the carousel, and put them in my cart saying, "I think I got them all." She answered playfully, white hair sparkling and lilt in her voice, "Let's give it the traditional twirl and see!" and she spun the carousel while I spun a hand in the air to flourish with a wave, and bid good evening with a shared giggle and thanks for the song...

Should you find yourself in the aisle of Anita, the singing cashier, I recommend dancing along. She knows her stuff! :)

tina jones

Fish Gummies and Hair Chewing: Ongoing Understanding of Neurotypicals

I'd like to thank the little girl with the face for making my shopping easier. It always goes well, until I have to stand in line....with...the people. Her mother had gotten everything. No, you didn't hear me. "EVERYTHING." She was about 3, I think. I never know, and she had obviously learned that smiling at people makes them smile back. She did it, and I looked away, because I just learned this last week, and I didn't want to practice. She wouldn't stop it, so finally, I caved and showed her my canines as politely as possible. Her eyes glittered. Wicked, how they do that, and at that moment, I smiled genuinely.

    I  learned peek-a-boo from my own daughter decades ago. Knowing that game pretty well, I gave it a shot, and she mimicked me, kicked her feet in the grocery seat where she was secured not too well and giggled. I asked if she was helping her mother, and she nodded, turned and got a can to assist her Mom in putting the groceries on the belt. She dropped it in the floor, so I retrieved it and handed it to her. She smiled more.

    She pushed her hair back, so I asked if hers often got in her face. She nodded, and I said, "Mine bugs me too sometimes." I smacked my hair back with both hands, and we spent several second smacking our hair. She stroked one side, and I told her I could make two tails, held my hair with both hands to demonstrate. I think she was impressed, but she insisted only one was the way to go, so I complied and did just the one side, not all of the hair, as she demonstrated, just part of it. She seemed to know what she was doing.

    She was barefoot, but I hadn't noticed when her mom asked where her shoes were, and went about emptying her cart anyway, little toes going everywhere, weaving happily in and out of the cart bars. I'm bendy, so it wasn't a concern, and I was surprised when another lady decided to alarm the child by telling her that her foot was stuck, and Mom might break it off when she tried to lift her from the cart, further, she should tell her mother, she was stuck.

     Of course she wasn't. The smile was gone, her lower lip began to swell, and her head turned down. I'd spotted some fish oil gummies (chewable candy supplements), and thought to hand them to the cranky lady, but I resisted. The little girl slid her foot out, easy as could be to comply, joy gone.
    The lady went on, having taken a dull adult position, to tell the child that she had children in college, as if that was going to have any meaning for the girl, and the little girl nodded solemnly, trying to interact as best she could to the stern voice. I told the lady, she was contemplating her words, at which point the lady (finally) laughed.

     The little girl smiled again, and we went back to demonstrating hair styling tips (which I followed as best I could), and how to properly entangle the toes in cart bars. I had to part her company when another aisle came open, though I was as always cut off by someone more adult that I am. <cough> and I didn't see her for a minute.

      Her mom paid and pushed the cart forward, and she peek-a-boo'd at me, while chewing her hair, so I chewed mine too, then she looked sad, and lifted her foot to show me her shoe was on, and she tried, but couldn't put her shoe'd foot through the small bars that had fit so well without them. I felt sad too.

      I hope the rest of your day didn't have to have shoes, little girl, and thanks for showing me that only part of the hair makes a fine ponytail on one side, and that it's pretty tasty really, if not just a good thing to do while waiting in a grocery line. I hope you smile more today. People need it more than they may know.

    With love, another (sometimes) little girl who doesn't like shoes either. Thank you! (and Sweetheart, feed those cranky sorts Fish Oil Gummies. Winks!)

tina jones

Ah, Spring: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor!

May I share? Here it goes(I can't stop myself!)
     Spring means one thing to me: Outdoor bugs will come to life, and they want to bond with me. It is March 20, and where I live that means a ground thaw. So it begins...

     I woke just now from a nap, grabbed my oversized Tshirt and put it on. Damned tag itched, but you just deal with it, acrobatically scratch it out of place, until it's pleasantly un-tucked from shirt, and go about your business, or mine, or something. I began brushing my teeth when I saw, over half the size of my ring finger, yes! A large black, shiny water bug out of the corner of my eye on my left shoulder. I took the brush out of my mouth, and smacked the Pterodactyl off, but couldn't find the damned thing!
   I dropped the toothbrush, and I might say the vibrating brush beating the sink, added a certain, "Je ne sais qua?" to the situation. It was loud! I got the shirt off by getting my right arm out carefully, just incase the dragon bug from Hell was still on me somewhere, then slipping my head out, finally the left arm, and dancing about like a three year old future princess on Meth, attempting to get away from the BEAST, and I didn't even know where it was!
   Having, "Jitter-bugged" my way out of the bathroom, I peeked back in and saw Golliath, holding on under the lip of my vanity table, and I hopped passed it to grab a pretty pink (Seriously?) fly-swatter/world-saver!
   Nabbing my (bad-ass for it's color) weaponry, I landed a nervous if exacting blow to the six-legged DEATH LOBSTER, and crushed the nasty guts out of it.....on my white vanity table. 
.
   Victory is a bittersweet mistress, indeed.
(Cue Taps)
tina jones

"Git 'Er Done" According to the Zodiac

This is done in humor and with great affection for all signs. 

Aries: Let's go, let's go, let's go! We have stuff to do!

Taurus: Let's talk about it. Fine! I'll do it myself.

Gemini: I really think we should do it this way, and I really think we should do it that way too.

Cancer: I will let you know when it's time to do it, but first, have a casserole.

Leo: I am not doing a thing, until you take this balloon.

Virgo: I have to get this done now. Time is running out!

Libra: Let's be rational, and get this done together.

Scorpio: What's your real reason for wanting to get this done?

Sagittarius: I can get this done and dance while doing it.

Capricorn: With a steady, deliberate approach, I will get this done.

Aquarius: I'm going to have to get this done myself, for the sake of humanity, aren't I?

Pisces: What does, "Git 'er done" mean existentially?

Winks! (and don't forget your balloon!)
tina jones

SHE'S ALL TALK!

I recently saw a note lamenting how people didn't, "Talk" anymore. Instead we have a world that communicates via social media, and it got me to reminiscing.

    Ah the good ole days! Restraining orders were an excellent social lubricant. I don't miss it, and with the advent of, "Block Buttons," we are saving a lot paper and trees. Social media just may be saving the rainforests. I'll have to look that up for sure. :p
    I'm sensing a disturbance in the Funk and Wagnall's. As our language grows and changes, "Talk" may have different social applications. I'd like to cover a few that I'm aware of. 
Feel free to add more, if you think of them.

"Talk:"

1: To exchange verbal information. (I'm sending some of that here. If you respond, we have "conversed." Nice, how that works! It's all friendly and stuff! :) Hearts! <3 <3 <3

2: To breathe into a phone at someone

3: To meet (with the possibility of annoying stare downs, creepy sniffing, odd smells, awkward surprise hugs/fending off attempts at hair touching/accostings etc.)

4: To meet with the possibility of doing something naked at some point, probably with consent. It's iffy.

5: To meet for the purpose of making future plans to visit our respective attorneys (Marriage Warning, if you didn't hear it! This is often called, "Talking over coffee/drinks." I'm going to have to hurt you with the truth. Your coffee or whatever you're drinking does not give a damn what you have to say. I'm sorry to have to do that, but I care too much to lie to you. Oh..more hearts: <3 <3 <3 There you go. :)

6: To try out our new mace dispensers

7: To engage in a public flash mob dance for two at the library.

8: To get a better idea of just how big those are/that is.

9: To meet for the purpose of showing someone your new BBQ pit and talk about how that lotion really does soften the skin.

10: To physically exchange Tamale recipes.

11: To meet and talk/manipulate, so I have a better chance of ripping you off.

12: To meet in order to talk, because (Listen for the whining.) "Typing is so hard for me, so it would do me a big favor if we could just put your life on the line instead. O.k.? That'd be great! Thanks!"

  I hope that clears things up and improves your chances at getting to, "Talk" with someone.

Best wishes! ;)
tina jones

Silliness: The Best Pain Reliever I Know

If I have any talent, it's that of putting carts before horses.
I always thought I had to feel good to do anything good, but I realized (through the patience of dear friends) that if I did it, I might come to feel it.
 Feeling good became the result of action.
The last few days have been difficult for me. I had worried myself into a full blown meltdown. The knowledge that worry has never accomplished a thing for me, hasn't stopped me from indulging in it, as often as I wish it would. Fortunately, through years of practice in taking care of myself, not trying to please others, meltdowns don't happen but a few times a year for me now. This was, at one time, a daily occurrence, then weekly, monthly, etc.
  Meltdowns: For me that means a shutting down of emotions, followed by a near fetal crying bout, and a general sense of doom. It happens. I had gotten so deep in to other people's problems, put on my Joan of Arc suit, and mentally beat myself up with it.
 Fortunately, there are surrenders beyond surrender. For me, I can't stuff the feelings. Feelings are patient things. They will wait for me, and come out at the most inopportune times!
 What works for me: I let it happen. I get down in it, crawl in it, roll around in it, and get it done and over with. I don't cry, I bawl, I shake, I feel every last bit of it, because I've no mind to save that stuff up for later. Today's leftover emotion will seep into tomorrow, if I don't feel it now. Once my eyes are sufficiently puffy, nose blown and breathing again, I get to work! Work, means being gentle with myself, and taking steps to get back to balance.
  I used to believe that other people made me happy or unhappy. (Yet another instance of cart before horse) The truth is that when I take care of me, get myself in a happy place, I attract happy people. They can add to it, but they can not "make" me happy. They can't take it away either. I am responsible for me, and when I remember that, all sorts of wonderful things happen.
  Some of the things I may do privately are play a game, sing poorly, shower,  take a nap, move to another room, clean a room, mess up a room, dance poorly (I'm a natural)......anything to shift my track. Some of the things I do involving others, are to listen to music that makes me feel good, paint something even badly,..... yes right in the middle of not feeling good. I find something, anything that I think someone, anyone else might enjoy, and I send it to them. It doesn't matter who it is. When I am that down, I've become internally stagnant and stuck. Those emotions are sitting there like pond water, and my task is to get that flow moving again. I send something good, look for more good, and as I do, I change!
  I change! The circumstances don't change. I do. After a little while, without trying to feel better, thinking only of adding to the lives of others, I begin to feel better. I can wash my face, eat something, rest, etc. Often I find myself laughing. I have to get me out of my own needs, and see what I can do for others.
   The feeling of usefulness, happiness and even joy returns. Regardless of the circumstances, I get a sense of , all is right with the world, everything is OK in this moment, I'm safe, and there is once again hope.
   I am a serious advocate of pure silliness! This stuff is the work of masters, and I make my best attempts. Silly has a way of soothing the most heavy of post-meltdown states for me, and I highly recommend it. More than anything, tender care followed by giving to others and coming out with silly, has been the most healing of acts to me.
   Importantly, I can't just jump from meltdown to silly. It doesn't work that way. I've got to feel it all, be of service somehow, then my lighthearted spirit returns. It is worth the work every time.
  Though hair styling may seem to have nothing to do with this post, here is the joyous silly that came out of this meltdown. Nothing so much heals pain for me, as a good laugh at myself.  It's a gift to help you find a smile, if you're down, and it helps me return to myself. Hope you get a laugh...
tina jones
Pin Up Curls No Heat (Speed Humor)

72 Questions I've Been Asked (Humor and Other)

I'm amazed by the questions I get asked.
Some interesting inquiries and comments have come up privately, and sometimes they come up publicly. Often these come up in everyday talk of art, so they may be useful to others.
   Some are about Art. Some are about Autism/Aspergers, and some are about at the end of my limits!  It seems more time conserving to write the answers here, rather than answer individually.

Quickly, this should cover most of them:

1.   How big are they? Think of your mother, your aunt and your grandmother, put them all together along with any vision you may have, subtract the b.s., and you'll be there.
2.   How long are your legs? They keep my butt from dragging the ground.
3.   You have no ass! You have no hobbies, obviously. Look up any picture of "The Three Graces," and get over it.
4.     How do you grow your fingernails? I don't gnaw them off. I also eat a good amount of protein, and can't stand snags. Those are filed as soon as possible. They don't get a chance to catch on anything and break. I'm sure genetics are involved as well.
5.    How do you get away with charging $900. for an oil portrait? When you charge $100, people tell you what to paint. When you charge $900, they're just glad you're painting. I average about 3 commissoins a year for several years now.
6.    Why aren't you married? I tried three times. It's not one of my talents.
7.    Where were you educated/who taught you to paint?  I have no formal education, and I didn't take lay classes. I have a neurological disorder (Asperger's Syndrome) that cripples me when around many people, and it also sets me in the 98th percentile intellectually when it comes to memorizational skills. (Yes it was tested.) I was born memorizing faces. Practice for decades followed by reading some books rather than chewing the backs off of them, led me to understanding and learning things like how to mix mediums. I was not born knowing what turpentine was. I also asked a lot of questions of other artists. Some of them will even tell you the truth.
8.    How do you memorize faces when people with Autism have face blindness/forget faces? Many times I know a face, but have no idea who they are. I forget people, but I rarely forget a wrinkle, a freckle or the hair growth pattern of their eyebrows. Names, unfortunately don't stick.
9.    Why don't you know about html, nuclear physics, and why can't you memorize the phone book like Rain Man? I have no interest in phone books. I don't like to talk on the phone, and I've no interest in being anyone's side show act. Physics of any kind, however does interest me, though I know little about it.
10.   What kind of shampoo do you use? I switch between different kinds and brands, but I do have a liking for green bottles. No idea why... I don't shampoo more than once every few days unless I've done sweaty work, and I don't use a lot of gooey products in my hair.
11.    Do you work out? Do I look like someone who likes to sweat?!
12.   I still don't get it? How in the world is someone born knowing how to draw or paint?! Think of it this way. Let's say you were born somehow knowing on some level about your sexuality. Small examples appeared as soon as you were able to express and demonstrate liking for certain toys or people. Later, you instinctively knew  you were supposed to do something with this inborn ability. Eventually, you figured it out, and with dedicated practice even at times obsession, you got good at it. Now, the rest of the world had to go to college for six years to figure out what goes where and why or to even begin to play with toys and like minded people, but you just had it in you from birth. By golly, You're a natural! That is how I know how to paint.
13.   Sexuality? You're a sex maniac like all artists! Ok let me try again. Let's say your grandmother was born with a flair for food flavors. She didn't know the names, but she knew what tastes went well together. Through passion and desire, she tried an idea or two, and at the age of five made one hell of a good cake. It looked like a miracle to everyone around. Dedicated, even obsesively at times, she practiced and became an excellent cook. Now, I was not born knowing any of this. I only ate one flavor at a time. I can, however follow your grandmother's recipe and make a pretty good cake. She was born with it, I had to learn it. She knows cooking like I know painting.
14.    Do you think measles vaccines cause Autism? I don't know. I never had them. Scarey, huh? grins I had both Rubella and Rubiola in the first three weeks of my life, before the vaccines were scheduled, so there was no need for them. Can they cause Autism? I don't know. Did they cause mine? Obviously not.
15.    Why don't you know everything about painting if you were born with it? I've not needed or been exposed to everything. I'm only 46, and I'm still learning. When I need something, I learn it, just like you do. I just learn better on my own than from books or others. It's neurological.
16.     If you're so smart, then why can't you fix my car? I don't know anything about cars.
17.    What were your favorite subjects in high school: Math of any kind and Science. Both break down the small parts of things, and are tidy precise works. I like that, and the same applies to my way of doing art.
18.     Why don't you eat sugar and grains? When I did, I got horrendously fat. When I quit, my appetite went down, and I lost the extra pounds.
19.    But the FDA Food Pyramid says.....: They also approve drugs that get class action law suits for dammages roughly three years after each drug is approved. My body says, "Don't eat it."
20.    What the hell is that hum in your voice?: It's stim. Many people with Autism have them. That hum is a vocal stim.  I also flick my fingers against the palm of my hand, hand flap if very excited, rock to and fro, and have a go at tongue chewing when it hits me. Try it. It may calm you down too.
21.     Did you ever try to stop stimming? Yes, I was punished for it as a child. For example, I used to thump my head on the floor gently and rhymically to calm myself. I was told by the person who "helped" me with that, "I just took the back of your head and slammed your face into the floor like a basket ball." They are quite proud of their achievement, and laugh about it. I don't find it funny, I find it abusive. As a teen and young adult, I tried to hide the stims and tone them down, but I was never totally successful. Aging, life experience and resetting my priorities, helped me let go of what other's thought, relax and just be myself. If stimming bothers them, they have a problem, and I can't help them with that. It works better to be true to myself.
22.     Can you cook? Only if I'm hungry, and even then it's not pretty.
23.    Are all artist really sex fiends? You do paint naked people.: No, but many non artists have a very rich fantasy life that extends beyond the bounds of logic. It is exceeding difficult to do anything else while painting, let alone consider having sex. Paint is a lot of hard work, inborn or not. It takes focus, and at the very least the other person would be cheated of my attention. I'm not someone who can read a book during sex either, by the way. I tend to get involved. Also, reading takes a lot of focus. I'm very slow at it.
24.    But you look at a naked person for hours and don't get turned on? I know your musculature and your bones. I also know the inner workings of your kidneys. That doesn't turn me on either.  What I'm basically looking at is your particular dispersion of fat. That will determine how light plays differently on you than the next nude.
25.    I can't draw/paint, because I wasn't born with talent like you: More than anything, I was born with desire. If you have that, anything is possible. I also practice a lot. If you do that, you'll get better. Further, I've seen many from simple Bob Ross type painting through portraiture without them knowing how I "learned" it. Talent or in my case a neurological bend doesn't mean anything without hard work.
26.    But I'll never paint like you! No, and I'll never paint like you. The world needs all of us, and all of our art. Don't short change it, by not doing your very important part. And don't shortchange me. I may learn something from you.
27.    Would you marry me? :Would you like to be slapped? What have I done to you?
28.     Do you ever donate paintings? Yes, I do two charity works a year, but that is my limit, and I'm backed up until next year. I choose who I do them for based on how helpful I think they'll be.
29.     So you're a self taught artist: No, again. It's built in. Are you a self taught breather? You knew it, not intellectually, but instinctually. Later, you may have learned controlled breathing exercises, later I learned how to mix mediums, colors and what not.
30.     Will you meet me at..? Not a chance in hell or earth.
31.     Why don't you charge for telling people how to paint? I wasn't charged for it. I'm sure given time, you could do it on your own, and I get joy from helping and seeing others get it. You don't need me to learn, I'm just here to remind you of that. The online stuff is free. What I have charged for is when people want to meet me to paint. The lessons are free, me being around people costs.
32.   You can paint anything! No. I have trouble with multi-layered flowers. It's more an annoyance than a disability, especially if the flowers are pink. The color irritates me.
33.    Are you into bondage? If you cannot sit still and pose while I paint you without the use of ropes, then I simply will not paint you.
34.    Why aren't you in all of the competitions?: How does competition add to my desire to help others learn how to paint? I get as much joy if not more from seeing them succeed. Competing against them is counterproductive to my desire. I'd rather challenge myself, my last painting, than worry about outdoing someone else. I find it a waste of time. That said, I do enter one competition a year just to see if I can outdo myself. So far, they've not let me in, so no one is in any danger. grins.
35.   Why won't you meet me? It's not personal. I just don't like you.
36.  But I don't have any money to paint: Use food coloring or coffee, and a shoe string on a piece of news paper. Show me your results, and together, we'll make it better.
37.    How did you learn to paint skin?: That one was harder. I had the misfortune of having bruises regularly as a child, and I had access to some old makeup. The 70's had a lot of different colors. I used them on my own skin to try to cover marks. I found that yellow for instance will cover a purple bruise, green eye shadow would tone down a red mark, etc. I got pretty good at it. The same works on a canvas. If the subject is too yellow, add purple, too red, add green, etc.
38.   Oh sorry: Stuff happens. I learned, moving on.
39.    Aren't you angry about this? I was for years, but anger is exhausting. They did the best they could. It was a crappy job. To remain angry is to remain enslaved. I'm free, safe, I've let go, I wish them well, I can't help them, and I'm content. Blame is a useless endeavor, and a good way to keep from being responsible for one's own choices. I'm a big girl now. I choose happiness.
40.    I think you're a Light Seeker, Angel, an Indigo Child,  my Soul Mate! Sucking up about meeting is not going to make it happen. I think you're nuts, and suggest getting help, but not from me.
41.    But don't you want recognition?! For what?
42.     For teaching people how to paint? I haven't taught them anything. I show some techniques. The rest is up to them. I just remind them that they can do it. They always could. Something about life makes people forget, I think.
43.    Fine! If you're an artist who's not a sex maniac, then how many people have you slept with?! Fewer than I've had sex with.
44.    So I've read people like you have no empathy, are you mean? No, infact I feel so deeply that it incapacitates me at times. Other times, the way I feel empathy and act on it, is very useful. Picture a fight between two very rough boys. One is getting hurt bad. Normal empathy is displayed in a group watching. Some empathize with the winner, yelling to cheer him on, and others empathize with eachother at the horror by holding onto eachother in fear and perhaps crying. I do not have these kinds of empathy. What I feel is for the person being hurt. I do not join the crowd. My empathetic action is to run straight in and stop the fight. This makes me the odd one out to the group, therefore they do not see my empathy, but it is of little matter, if I stopped the harm.
45.   So, do you think normal people are stupid by the way they empathize? No, I think different ways of feeling and reaction are useful in different situations. I wouldn't be of much use at a group comiserating over the loss of a hair product, and that need in society is met by those who can empathize with it. I just put my hair in a bun, but many are debilitated by what others think. They need the empathy of those who can relate better than I. People like this are much better at creating bonds than I am, and it's an inherent to them matter of survival, so I'm not trivializing by mentioning hair products. It's just an example I've seen.
46.    Don't you care what others think about you? Ofcourse I do, but not much. I care more what I think.
47.    Why aren't you medicated for your symptoms of Autism like anxiety? Along with Autism, I am also a recovering alcoholic/drug addict. Medications act in a way that is unpredictable in all of these. Basically, if the insert says, "Rare side effects" you might as well put my name beside them. In some of us, they do more harm than good. In others, they are life savers.
48.    Why won't you come enter our show? If I did that, I fear, and have been even warned, press might be involved, and I do not want to choke anyone on camera! I do not like crowds or spotlights. Best to let paintings enjoy lights. I do not find myself nearly as fascinating as your paintings. Further, I am not a press opportunity. I am a person.
49.    Do you paint naked? Do you do your dishes naked? Wait, I don't want to know. Pigments in paint that are toxic like Cadmiums, Titanium and Cobalts among others can be absorbed through the skin. It's wise to cover oneself. Further, don't eat while painting.
50.   Why do you do glazing? Your paint is not thick enough! Thick paint was invented by the Impressionists. I'm not that impressed with it. Oh it's fine and even beautiful, but it doesn't offer the glow of glazing that I want. It's just a personal preferrence.
51.    What kind of music do you listen to when painting? I often paint in silence, but I do love Andrea Bocelli, and if I'm painting for sheer silliness, I'll listen to Pop music.
52.    Why the loose black and white paintings when I've seen your realistic oil portraits? When I had cancer, I was very limited to how much time I could sit up. Setting up with two colors, a medium and a canvas was quicker than the range of oils I needed, and Acrylics meant I could get a lot done in the short time I had. I set a goal of fifty, aware that I might not live that long. I've surpassed the goal by several. I've lost count. Now, they are just fun for me.
53.    So...the cancer. Are you ok now? Yes, thankyou. I'm cancer free.
54.    Can you still have children? I'm a grandmother! Back off junior!
55.     How do you make time for painting? How do you make time for hugging, dancing, yard work, cooking. My time is spent on what I love, just like yours is. 
56.   Will you paint my deceased Grandmother? No. I no longer paint dead people. It's hard to get them to pose (humor). Seriously, I found that the emotional reactions of those I painted for were too overwhelming for me.
57.    Do you paint from photos? Yes. I take as many as 20 photos, and choose what ones work best. Something will show in one that does not in another. I also often do sketching from life along with the photos. Photography can be blurred, enhanced or otherwise enough off that I need life to see what I'm doing. The photos are there for reference, not for copying.
58.    Do you ever use a projector? I have, but it's been years. Personally, I love sketching. It's my first love, and I enjoy practicing it. Not everyone does. I don't see a thing wrong with projectors, grids or what have you. They can certainly expediate the process, but why get something over with that you enjoy? Also, there will come a time in each painting where initial lines are lost, and an artist's ability to draw will save that painting. So, no matter the initial method, I do encourage continued drawing practice.
59.   Are you rich? No, coupon cutting is an art form, and thrift shops love me.
60.    How do you dress as an artist? I just cover it up.
61.    Why are you playing with that wad of clay? It's called a "kneaded eraser." It can be formed to erase either broadly or precisely. It feels good to play with. Get your own!
62.   Do you stand or sit painting? It depends on how high the work is, and if I can reach it. Also, for me, standing aides in looser work, while sitting gets me more precision, and is easier on my back.
63.   Who is your favorite artist? It changes daily. Any beginner that I see trying stands out as magnificent to me.
64.   Why do you paint people? I've not found anything more beautiful or fascinating by spirit or visage.
65.    Can you paint in black and white, color, in oils, acrylics, water color, guache, egg tempera, spit and dirt, lasagne, etc.? If it makes a mark, yes I can paint with it. (so can you)
66.     Where do you get your patience for painting? Again, it's built in, like many people's love for chocolate. Do you need patience to eat a candy bar? Same thing. You're hardwired to love what you love. So am I.
67.    How long does it take you to finish a painting? Until I'm done. Glazing in oils, anywhere from a few weeks to about 6 weeks. Looser acrylics, a day or two. The rest are somewhere in between.
68.    If not marriage, are you interested in being a concubine? I'm perfectly capable of painting anyone with horns and a tail, naming it, "!#*##(#*$##!" and displaying it publicly.
69.    Where do you get your strength to paint? I meditate.
70.     How do you meditate? I paint.
71.     Can I paint you naked? I have no idea. Let me see your portfolio.
72.     Will you let me paint you naked? No.

  
  
tina jones

Signs

Early today, I drove on a highway that was being repaired. Though both lanes were freshly asphalted, one of the two lanes going in my direction was blocked off by orange cones. Resisting the obvious temptation to treat this as an opportunity to practice well fantasized obstacle course training, I decided to watch and drive carefully.
 Traffic was, of necessity, slower, and I took in a bit of scenery. I'm told I see more detail than others, and I don't know if that's true, but a certain statement of the obvious variety bothered me. It was a roadside sign that read, "There are no side lines."
  I had to read it three times to make sure that's what it said. I'd have thought a person could tell by looking at the freshly laid asphalt that there were no sidelines. No, apparently there are people who don't notice that, so they need a sign that says so.
   I don't realize how fortunate I am sometimes. I can just look for sidelines, willy-nilly, and upon not seeing any, deduce that in all likelihood, none are there. Imagine those who can't, and what stress they must have been subject to, before that sign was put in place.
   I feel so selfish now, never having considered that others wouldn't know there weren't side lines unless it was written in words. They say I see in pictures. That must explain my super ability to notice the presence or lack of side lines. It would also explain why the words threw me off. It's my understanding others think in words. They might not have a mental image of "side lines" floating around in their heads to even know they should be on the road. I'm so glad that sign was there. They might have driven up the hill into the woods or something equally embarassing.
   Not me. When I don't see a side line, I know I don't see one. I watch for gravel or grass or whatever coasts the asphalt. Maybe they need to put that on the sign! What if there are people who don't know that in the absence of side lines they need to be watching for an edge of weeds, grass, sand, etc.? What if this is some kind of discrimination against them? This is wrong, I tell you! Damn wrong! These people need their signs!
   ahem,
tina

Why I think Jesus had Asperger's (Humor)

As a child, he was brighter than most adults, went to a church once and taught them. (patient with others and no sense of any age/authority connection)

He was smart enough to know it takes water in order to make wine. (precocious)

He did things like treading water, just to mess with people. (Fantastically obtuse sense of humor)

He left a regular job to spend his life walking around. (didn't fit within social norms/expectations)

Went to church again to whip a few people who weren't behaving by the rules. (Loved rules/No sense of Social Hierarchies)

He made up his own rules sometimes. ( black and white thinking)

He suffered bullies in life, yet didn't let anyone bully others. (times of immense selflessness)

He was very choosy about close friendships, and those he let hang out with him were some of the coolest weird people around. (Just flat out interesting with an interest in very interesting people)

 He took time to decompress alone, for some of us it's a few hours or a few days. He took 40 days. (committed to what was good for him)

  He spent his vacation, not at Disney or some other loud place with a bunch of people, but in the dessert. He didn't even go to Vegas. (got his strength and  renewal from time alone)

  He brilliantly boiled down several rules to no brainers, like love people and love God. Ok so it wasn't Einstein, but credit where credit is due. ( smart kid)

   He kept talking about the same stuff his whole life. (preservation)

His special interest was bringing dead people back to life. (We've all got our quirks.)

  He wore comfort clothing, and wasn't into pretense. (sensitive to textures, maybe?)

  He didn't particularly care what other people thought. (obsessed with his own interests to the exclusion of other things)

  He was not a crowd follower. (Individuality, lack of herd mentality)

When some lady even touched the hem of his garment, by golly, he knew it. (tactile sensitivity)

He believed we were all equal. (No sense of social hierarchy)

   Many of these could be applied to Budda, Lao Tsu, Mohammad, Moses, Mother Theresa, Ghandi, and some of our current spiritual gurus, like Niel Donald Walsche, Dr. Wayne Dyer or Deepok Chopra, our poets and often to our grandmothers, grandfathers and our children...every now and then even us.
   Many people work a lifetime toward equality, and many struggle a lifetime to embrace that we are all One.
    Some day, I hope all will see themselves in the eyes of others, that no one is below or above anyone. That some were born with simple ideas like unity of all, and some were born with greatness, and that it is the everyday person among us who, in their actions of love and tolerance, is creating a better world in everything they do.

tina jones
  

Public Appearance: Hair 101

 These are the times I enter the world of the not always typical, neurotypicals or those who are not Autistic. These recounts of my encounters are for amusement purposes. For those who can, enjoy the links in blue. You may need to click the "back" button on your browser to return here.

  I love venturing to thrift shops, and finding odd items. At times, however I'm the odd item someone's looking for. I was inspecting a most interesting bow curve on an assembly of wood and string with no purpose other than to study the beauty of the curve. In my own world and pleasantly so, I heard a man's cheerful voice say, "That just may be a keeper." I said I didn't know what it was, and I turned it over trying to decipher the French on the back. He said, "Ah, it's a fire starter," and at that point I saw the pictorial instructions on the back, and laughed slightly for not realizing the pictures were there.
   Slight laughs do strange things to some men. His voice changed, "Mmm...I just love strawberry blonde hair," into something reminiscent of Barry White's "Can't Get Enough of Your Love Baby."
  I turned toward the sound only to find him reaching (no really) reaching for my hair! I leaned a step back gently (like any cobra would), and gave him by best, "What are you thinking?!!" stare with attendant, "Do you realize you are attempting to TOUCH me?!!!"  He pulled back his hand such as one might if fingers had been bitten off.
   I liked that part, until I noticed the plastic temporary hospital band on his wrist. His face, though not green was a lack of pink closer to chalk yellow than blue. He was walking around, apparently not in pain, trying to feel my hair, and perhaps still medicated. I try to be gentle in these situations, not that keeping or stealing a hospital bracelet is going to have much of an effect on me.
  I'm not one to have any fear of dead silences and often enjoy them, but seeing his trance, I figured I must have been inadvertently backlit. I don't know how that can happen in fluorescent lighting, but it occurs more often that one might expect..or so it seems.  I thought to speak, "My mother gave it to me." I feined a smile. At that time, his voice turned to a soprano giggle. and he said, "Oh yeah! Your mother must have given it to you," oddly, since I'd just said that. He turned quickly, and screwed up his face as he was turning away in a harrumph that sounded like, Bon Jovi's, "You Give Love a Bad Name."
   I hope he was no further wounded, and that he made it safely home. What I learned: On the right drugs, hair can make people really friendly. Yikes!
tina jones

The Decision to Be Who I Am

If at first you don't succeed, it's likely the Universe had a better plan for you.  At least that's my experience. I'm grateful for the ideas that didn't turn out, the dreams that didn't come true. These made way for other things that my imagination is simply not big enough to have thought up.
  Very early in school, the class was asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" It must have been around 1970 or 71. My family was, perhaps a little further (or a lot) behind, because it had not occured ot me, given what I saw, that I would "be" anything other than a wife and a mom one day. That was my basic training. Though school taught me there were other options, home life contiued to raise a bride, a mom and a servant/leader/protector/entertainer of family. I still consider it a dignified and difficult job, one that I didn't always fare well at, infact.
   The question shook my foundation. I was born or raised somewhere in the cultural flip between "Lib" of The Waltons and Mary Tyler Moore's office antics. I thought Lib was tougher, so I liked her better, but Mary was funny.  Scanning my personal knowledge of what women "did," outside of my family, there were things like the electrician's wife, and the preacher's wife, both positions of which seemed to require the wearing of light blue. I never could take to baby blue, so those were out. There were teachers, but they always wore seasonal vests it seemed with leaves on them for autumn and snowmen later or bunnies. It seemed too fluffy and bulky. Red! I liked red! I liked alot of colors, but red was the end-all in color. I mean if you want to be a color, you can try, but until you make it to red, you're just practicing. That was the thinking anyway. I came up with the answer!
  "I want to be a fireman!"
    The entire class burst into a roar of laughter, and while I was trying to figure out what I did that was funny (I wasn't smart enough to be embarassed.) the teacher looked at me with an, "Isn't that adorable?" pitiful sort of look. In short order, I was informed that my choices were, "Teacher, Nurse or Stay at home Mom."  I'm not sure if anyone told me, or if that was the limit of my imagination.That narrowed things down some.
   I became a bar tender. I became many things. I tried the nurse part, the somebody's wife part, and none of those panned out, despite my early training as boo boo kisser and egg salad enchantress. The only vocation I ever stuck to was the Mom part, and I'm still enjoying that. Retirement doesn't happen, but the dividends keep rolling in. grins.
   After a very long time, and all of this *being* different things, I found out that I was something. Decades of playing with crayons, pencils and paint, doing portraits, scenes and animals, while trying to figure out what I wanted to "be," sorted itself out. I didn't have to "become" an artist when I grew up. I already was one. Again, "Retirement doesn't happen, but the dividends keep rolling in."
   My two best jobs in life are Mom and Artist, and with a life like that, who'd want to retire, anyway? I've got it pretty good.
   I never did make it to "fireman," but I still like red.
tina jones

Photo by me, of me, being me.
I may paint this some day.
I may make more egg salad with paprika, but either way....
Red will be involved.

Human Behavior Study: The Mating Ritual Gone Wrong

I went to the store, somewhere between 93 and 98 degrees, and I'm not speaking of latitude. If a soul was not exhausted, I couldn't detect it save for one hearty beast of a man and his (figuratively) jumping with her hand in the air saying, "Me, me, meee!" prey.
I watched them from my position behind his cart in the checkout lane. He was mid fifties and she was late forties or so. He had a sort of Barney Fife, sniff with a tug of the britches up to his Yogi Bear belly, from where they'd, in fatique, inevitably fall again. He was shooting "come hither" louder than the musak, shopping crowd and Fruit Loop display combined. Wreaking of studliness and trying to impress the lady object of his odiferous affections, he set about story telling. Mostly it was complaining about work, and mostly about children. "Grumble, grumble, sniff, Bubble Gum under the seats, grumble, homework, trash, middle schoolers, hate, high school kids are the worst. grumble, whine, I clean my bus every night!!!" She responded with nods and "uh huh's," and I felt mildly bad for the guy as our lady of desire's interest was fading. Swing and miss it seems, but there was more.
Looking past the obvious Turandot rewrite was a gentleman. Follow me here. They do exist. If you've ever experienced the desire to apologize for the behavior of your own sex, then you'll know the look of on this man's face. Our check out boy was in his seventies, clean, hair combed and ready to smile I hoped. He seemed horrified watching the goings on, and I thought to give him a break.
I waited for Romeo de Compassion et Gum Putty Knife to depart, checked out while Julliet had her sights and conversation elsewhere, and I walked ahead leaning to whisper in the gentle....man's ear. "If I knew it wouldn't get some kid in trouble, I'd go find that man's bus, and put bubble gum under the seats myself! Wouldn't you?" He smiled, giggled and his face glowed all pink.
I had a good day shopping. What did I learn? I learned that 5-6pm is a great time to study overworked, tired people at the market looking for someone else to cook them dinner. I suppose there's nothing wrong with that. smiles. I learned that making someone smile makes most experiences more pleasant, and that 98 degree extra sharp cheddar is right tastey!
tina jones

30 second Recap: The Bible

Best stuff ever written!
  You got your book of baby names upfront, extensive travels, diet recommendations, rampant sex, marriage advice including foot care,  sex with the wrong person, talking animals, poetry, solitary sex, wars, heroes, Doctors, Lawyers, Indian Chiefs, a "star is born,"  your basic be nice and share your cookies advice, recipes including wine making and how to "break" bread (we use knives mostly today), murderers, hygiene/hand washing coverage, and some dudes on some serious drugs at the end. I mean Stephen King should have been so creative.
  I read it extensively as a youth, and it gave me nightmares. Still, one can't help but love the poetry in the middle, and admittedly, I do go back sometimes and read the naughty bits.
grins!
  Enjoy the end of the world, or whatever you've got going on this evening.
Ba-da-bum-Teesh~!
tina jones

Mad Marker Sniffing: Study of Social Skills

You know the feeling. You think someone is watching, but that's just silly. They have better things to do. You pick up the non-toxic, washable children's markers, take three out, just to see if they respond, and wonder if they have a smell. Ofcourse, you don't sniff them lest you're labelled a "marker sniffer," then again it might get a reaction if indeed they are looking. Have a sniff you do, be it discreetly, and they instantly respond, "Do they have a smell?!" like excitable people do. "Nah," You might say, "Not much, but a slight one." They appear to return to their work, then you think of licking the marker just to see if they're still watching.....grins.
  Ofcourse, you don't do that. Everyone knows that is socially unacceptable, still...
tomorrow is another day.
  Yeah, I thought you'd understand.
(hehe)
tina jones

"Headless Burros" How to Use Reference Photos

Photo by Tina Jones "Headless Burrow"

Using photos as a reference. If it's not believable in the photo, it won't be believable in paint. This particular photo is an extreme situation to show how "off" something can look. The rear burro turned his head to nibble/scratch at his far side just as I snapped the photo, and now appears headless. If I wanted to shock scare people, I'd paint it as is. If not, I'd use another photo.

   I take ten to twenty reference photos for each subject, because people and animals move, light changes and what looks normal at a glance may not upon later inspection.

•    The photo is where I choose composition. Usually, I get something workable in the initial shot, but often I crop the photo. In this case, I'd rather the burrows be toward the left side, so I'd crop an inch or two off of the left side of the photo. This is my planning stage.
• Do I want the burro/burros center top to bottom?
• Do I want to omit the far burrow or use another reference photo for that one? 
• Should I move the bottom of the fence? It creates a dead-center line in this compostion. Center is often dull to the eye. Placement of that line at 1/3 from the bottom or top makes for more interest in composition.
• Do I want the ground shadows as is? I look at shadows on the ground/surface as part of the composition. Do I want them as is, or would omitting some make for a more cohesive piece?
• Much of the shadow here is cast from a nearby tree. Will it be believable as is, or might I put only shadows under the burrows for better composition?
• What about the lone vertical steak on the fence? Is it adding anything to my idea of painting the burrows? Might it be ommitted? Might this work without the fence altogether?
• Do I want to paint the grass, or might this burrow look ok in a desert, among rocks or sipping water?

   These are some questions I encourage you to ask yourself about your reference photos. Be critical of them. I use reference photos as a sort of shopping list of what I'd like in my painting, taking what I like and leaving the rest. Following is a quick, loose sketch to show how I chose to place the burro on my canvas.





 Burro Composition Sketch in Acrylic



Happy Painting!

tina jones

Censorship and the Artist

 Fine painting you have here! GENIUS, SIR!
   Thank you, I was a little concerned about the light in.....
Well, You're the artist, Sir.
Yes. Do you suppose your gallery would consider...?
 Hmm.What have you titled this work?
 "Nude on Canvas"
 Fine name it is, at that!

 So do you think..?

Well Sir, it's just that some of our clientele are, well...sensitive...
 Uh huh....

And well, Sir..You have genitalia showing in your painting.

  I see.

 If, perhaps you might..somehow..just cover the area?

  With?
 Well, Sir we have an array of decorative paint swatches. Might I suggest, white, or something in eggshell?
  White will do.
Very Good Sir!
  Ok, Do you think your.....
 It's just that... I don't like mentioning these things, but well...nipples.
   Say again?
 Nipples, Sir. They are showing in your painting.
   It's a man.
Still, Sir. Our clientele is of the utmost sensitive tastes.
  You're kidding, right?
 No, Sir. If you could just....?
   More paint swatches on the painting?
 Brilliant, Sir! Yes!
   Sighs, ok. That's three cardboard swatches. Now....
 I should mention, Sir that we've had people complain about ummm (sshhh) Fingers.
   Fingers?

 You see, Sir. Some of our clientele have mentioned that some people ..umm..do sexual things with their fingers, so they think it only wise to not show fingers in a painting.

   Fingers huh? I'll be damned.
Sir, If you could refrain from cursing...
   Of course, yes. I'll just put these swatches here and here.
 And Sir if it wouldn't be too much trouble, the mouth?
    Don't even say it! I'm covering it now! Are these people medicated?
 Our clientele, Dear Sir is always right.
    Yeah, I should probably calm down. I mean I do want to show my work, after all.
Precisely, Sir.
    So, Now, the genitalia, fingers, nipples and mouth are covered. Do you think...
 I don't mean to nit-pic, Sir, but there is an awful lot of skin showing.
.  It's a NUDE!
Sir, This is a dignified establishment! Keep your voice down.
   Sighs, so.......swatches?
 If you don't mind, Sir.
   Do have another box of them?
 Right here, Sir.

   Thank you.

 As always, of course. We tend to our artists, Sir.
   Ok Fine. Everything is covered but the hair.
 Sir?
   FINE, The HAIR is covered too. It's nothing but a white canvas.
 Ah, now THIS is art! Expressive, original ...but
   WHAT?
 The title, Sir. "Nude on Canvas?"
   What about it?!
 It's the word Nude, Sir. Our clientele find it to be overtly suggestive.
   Sighs, "ON CANVAS?!!!" How's that?!!!!
 It raises an eyebrow, Sir. The word "ON" is obviously perverse.
   WHAT THE?!
 Sir, Please don't make me sing "Let's get it *ON" by Marvin Gaye. What do you think he meant by "ON?"

   You're a nutcase, you know.

 Sir, It's only for our clients and in your best interest.
   So, "Canvas?!"


"Nude 7"
11x14
Acrylic on Canvas



Nostalgia on Youth

"New Chewf"
18x24
Oil on Canvas

I was a bright, talented child with expempliary manners,
but it was only because I didn't know any better.
tina jones

What's Your Stand? (Humor)




"Beryl Tribute Self Portrait"
8x10 Oil on Canvas

 

 It seems like everyone is taking a stand.

  They're for this or against that.

 I listen, and I watch the energy move.

   I don't know what's good or not for others,

 but I'm more still than many....

   I'm not much against anything, except licorice.

 I just never could get into it.

   I suppose that's a good enough thing to be against.

 I'm not really for anything, unless a person could count love.

   Yeah, that's what I'm for.

I'm for Love...well. Love and Bacon, but that's really the same thing.

tina jones.