Spiritual Brat

Dear God, Goddess, Pinnochio, The Universe, Love, Life, Light, or Fred,
   Oftimes, in moments where I interact in this illusion, (You know, the one where we're all separate) I wish I could edit out more of what my insides know. That separateness is an illusion. Sometimes it's annoying. It's like the dreams where we know we're dreaming, and wishing for one that felt real every once in a while. Funny...on awakening that this mind would wish for sleep. I can't imagine other people doing that, though they may.
   Sometimes I might like to get away something ridiculous. I don't know, maybe I could pretend along with others that eyeshadow was what was really important, or that social status meant something to the Universe, maybe I could even pretend I was right or my group was right, and everyone else had it wrong. That game attracts a lot of people still. I could pretend that because of my age, I have special smarts that younger or older people don't have. I could pretend that you and I are not one, not even connected, and that making you understand me is the stuff that would *make* me happy. I could even pretend other people had the power to make me happy, and I could blame them...you know....get real huffy if they didn't do it according to my satisfaction and personal description of happy. OH wait! I could pretend that because I read any particular book, I am the voice of God! Hey! That oughtta sweeten the game better than owning Park Avenue does in Monopoly!
   We're writing a really grand script here, and my acting skills are not up to par. Maybe I could be having more fun with this, I don't know. Maybe I'm just not cut out for it. I might do a better job operating the stage lighting, or organizing the cards into decks.
    Perhaps the next awakening will bring perfect reason to the behavior of masses and how this mirrors even my own soul. Perhaps there is peace in this inbetween place. For now, I'd rather awaken or be sleeping, because to be human is very difficult at times, and I am tired. Home is a decision, and I want to go, so here I am....home, awake and knowing in these moments before sunrise that soon the world will ask that I pretend again that this is all there is, what I experience with five senses. It will ask of me to fullfill priorities that aren't mine. It will put carbeurators, indigestion or the news ahead of love. And I smile in my more loving moments, thought not this one, because it's ok. Though difficult, I can particpate in the illusion even knowing that carbeurators have no control over people. Maybe I or we simply need or enjoy a puzzle to solve, many don't remember yet. My brain wishes it could forget, and play at this again, and my spirit? Sometimes, I wonder if it's ever stopped playing. ....Then again, I may need a nap. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm only tired and pehaps Divinely unsettled with my own growth. hmmm....It appears I am typing to myself. Pardon my going on. I plan to be more cheerful after a rest.
   I hope this tantrum gave you a smile. If not, it's Your fault. You made me this way. WINKS!
with love,
tina jones

Department Store Screamers: Our loveable children

For all parents including those with children on the Autism Spectrum.
  It isn't personal. It's not about you. Very rarely in life does anyone do anything TO me. People, including our children are simply doing what they do, and considering the tools they have, they are often doing a wonderful job of it. Many adults cope with pills and a variety of addictions. Now, who looks more sane, the screamer or the self appointed pharmacist? The hand flapper or the adult female who buries herself in soap operas, and the child who rocks and the man who can't beat a gambling problem? We all have done a lot of things to fit in, and most of it is unhealthy. It may be time for a good scream.
  Our Loveable Department Store Screamers:
  I didn't learn to enjoy shopping. I learned to fake it, lie to myself, stuff my feelings, that others were more important than me, to drink heavily when I couldn't stuff my feelings enough, to loathe myself for lieing to myself while I'd never lie to another. Yes, We can be molded, and we can pretend for you and please you. Eventually, I learned that I was wrong about all of that,  and I did matter, that other people's obsessions for social activities did not make them a requirement for me, and that I could no more learn to love  these activities than an NT (neurotypical/not on the Autism Spectrum) could learn to enjoy having splints under the fingernails. Repetition of both activities wont make them more pleasant, rather it can make a person withdraw and go numb. Rather than looking at why an aspie doesn't like hypothetical fingernail splints, why not ask why it is so important to us as parents that they they do?
  Yeah, I can hear the dead silence too.
    It may be more about the self image of the parents than the coping skills of the child. Blame absolutely must be dropped. There is not a more useless word in any language. No parent caused their child's Autism or any of it's various struggles. You're enough as you are for these kids, and if no one's told you today. You are admired and amazing....so is your child. Those who think otherwise aren't worth your time. Their kids screamed too, were impatient too, tore the house up too, and didn't eat, think or do what those parents wanted either. Anyone instinctually looks at a screaming or crying child. It's human to have the instinct to see if they are ok, but I had to learn that most people are concerned about themselves and their own lives, and rightfully so, that they have little time or desire to spend their precious time thinking about me, much less judging me and my screaming kid. It's still hard, but just taking that blame and judgement load off meant a lot of freedom for me.
   Once the insecurity has been dropped, try mimicking the kid. Who says they have to do it our way? Why not try it their way? If the kid rocks in the grocery cart, rock with them, if they hand flap, start flapping, if they hum, hum too, if they yell, take a breath and give it go. You just might have fun with your child....Did you HEAR that? "Fun with your child" He/she just might pay more attention to you after you take time to respect their way of doing things. They just might laugh at you, and if you're feeling free by now as you can, you just may laugh too.
  Don't miss the joy right infront of you by wasting time worrying about what other people think. Take a moment to consider your child as an adult. Do you want them to remember and possibly recount a Dad or Mom who was always fearful or upset, or do you want them to have stories of how Mom or Dad's laugh made everything better? Choose carefullly. They just may write a book about it one day.
   We have a lot of choices. I choose happiness every chance I get. I'd bet, come to think of it, that most people have had the desire to let out a good scream at a department store at least once in their adult lives. So kids are more honest about it. Pay attention, they just may be on to something. I'm not saying you should scream your lungs out, but you can at least go as loud as any annoying person you've met. (Come on. I know you know a braggart, preacher or inlaw who can belt it out.) If you want to teach kids more acceptable places and times to let off steam, do some more screaming, hand flapping or whatever appeals in the car. Do use cruise control if your driving. You just may find yourself getting into the freedom of being real. Again, "more" not instead of. When they see you cutting loose, letting the feelings go and even having a giggle over it in the car, they'll want to follow suit. And don't worry about the kids thinking you're nuts. They already do. hehe.
tina jones

How to Protect Your Blogger Blog Being Sold Without Your Consent (or pay)

A huge, "Thankyou" goes to the Support Team at Blogger!
 I had to take my blog private for a few days to figure out a problem with another online entity. There is a service called Blog 2 Print that will make a book of your blog for you. Fantastic, and wonderful, right? They do work with Blogger, Wordpress and Typepad. Both Wordpress and Typepad require that the person ordering the book enter their password, (hopefully) showing that they are indeed the owner of that blog. The interface with Blogger only requires the url, which meant anyone could have ordered a book of my entire blog, and I would have recieved no compensation, but Blog 2 Print would have been paid for it.
   I searched "How to block" Blog 2 Print, "How to disable," I even went backwards searching "Troubleshooting" the same service to find a problem so I could try to create it. I was exasperated.
   I made my blog private to block their access to my work, posted the problem in Blogger's amazing Help Forum (I love these people!), and I got immeadiate feedback. Most people asking about Blog 2 Print wanted to print books, but my question was how do I block anyone from using it on my blog? Two helpers and one newer blogger like me jumped in with ideas, links and brainstorms until an answer was found! One Helper suggested I change my Feed settings and try to use the service. I tried a few settings and here's what I found to stop this.
Click your Blogger "Settings" tab
Next, Click "Site Feed."
Under Allow Blog Feeds, Click "Short" (if you want to continue to have short feeds put out to link back to your blog) or "None," if you don't wish to have any feeds.
   I retried printing at Blog 2 Print and got an error message as they were unable to get to my blogs.
   Whew! What a journey.
    Again, Thankyou to the Helpers at Blogger.com! I am so proud of these people!
   Here is a link to the discussion that helped me so much:
http://www.google.com/support/forum/p/blogger/thread?fid=0175ec71ed22c4910004a80fe94ee435&hl=en
tina jones

  

Leaders and Followers

Leaders get put on pedestals and are expected to change things for entire populations. Any one human is going to fail at this. It isn't fair to the leader or the follower, and it isn't loving to either party. I wonder if the time of leader and followers is past. Maybe it's time for each individual to embrace their importance and their inherent ability to change what is right in front of them, their own sense of gratitude, responsibility and love, first for themselves, then family member to family member, friend to friend, lover to lover, neighborhood to neighborhood and country to country. I believe we are our answer I believe responsibility for personal action is required for effective change. Wisdom would ask input from many for each and every one of us, not just a leader, but you and me. I'm not against the idea of leadership. I'm for the idea of personal responsibility to change our worlds into what we would have them be. Does not a single smile bring light? I think individually, and undivided each of us as one will lead.....not followers, but lead ourselves to enlightenment. Walk beside us if you choose, but pray, do not ask me to lead. I make mistakes. I am capable of the best and the worst in humanity, let me only be at your side.
tina jones

Art and Your Sofa: Rant to an Anonymous Socialite

Art and Your Sofa

A Guide for Non-artists, Socialites and Other "Poor Misunderstood" People to Art and Artists

Art is never created to match your sofa*

*Sofa, for the purposes of this document shall refer to your sofa, any and all of your belongings from your wall paper to your welcome mat, and from your tie collection to your dentures, from your other art works to your life in general, and from your tastes to your opinions. It was not created to amuse you, to aid in your social activities or for you to understand, incorporate into your being or speak of in any way. Doing so incidentally may result in your coming across as a pseudo-intellectual bore to artists in general, but an ill-informed, pompous prick to those whom you may aim to impress. Art, by the way was not meant to impress or to help you impress.  This is not limited to the list so far stated, and the artist reserves the right to amend at will.  

   With utmost respect to your sofa,* art was created for some reasons that have nothing to do with you. ( No, really. It was.)

    Art was created for the pleasure of the artist, be it to express, to have fun, to indulge in senses or to let off some steam, be it to practice, to hone, to learn, creation is a selfish process, and it is quite likely that the artist did not think of you in the least when it was created. Occasionally, much like masturbation, the artist may think of another person, still the act is entirely self pleasuring.

     What you can do: You may ask the artist questions about the art like where to hang it. Do not ask if you don't want to know. Having received their thoughts, it’s best to lay the conversation to rest, reserving debate for others who know as little as you do. The artist has given their knowledge and opinion. You are in their area of expertise; you are conversing with (albeit, often overworked) alchemists, and not in a place where you stand a chance. Save face. Take the high road, and let it go. You may of course, hang where you like. (Double entendre intended.) While most artists are more than willing to toss pearls before swine, they are not likely to defend their point of view, in effect, doing it twice. Pushing this, will likely result in the phenomenon known as “the artistic temperament.”  You’ll have better luck checking with your mailman, house keeper, pedicurist or pet shampooer for debate. Art by the way, was not created for debate. If we wanted to yak endlessly about it, we wouldn't bother painting it.

      What you need to know about art:

You need to know if you like it and if you don’t. Take your time with that one.

      What you don’t need to know about art:

Everything else. You can study the best of the best of writers, and use large art words, but God created buckshot for just this purpose. Please do not annoy the artist with any gathered information. We know, and while it’s heart warming that you’ve read a book, we could basically care less. We’d rather be making art. Guests, who you’d hope to dazzle with artistic word savvy, would likely rather be eating the main course. You also don't need to know about our "deep inner angst." Most of us don't have any, and I personally am not going to make any up to please you. We don't have time for angst. We're working.

       What artists are: We are people who like to create and do so.

       What artists are not: We are not your pets. We are not to be put on display at social gatherings as a new addition to your collection. We don't need to be "discovered" by you. We already know we're here. We will not dress to match your sofa,* and we are not decorative accessories. Most of us do not enjoy being poked, petted or otherwise molested by strangers, be it in the name of showing our art or for the purpose of raising your social status. That's the stuff of personal adds, not art. However, should you fancy posing, I'll be happy to paint you poised for recognition on and of your sofa*. It'll make your interior decorator go all a-flutter, I'm sure.

       We appreciate you:

 It’s nice that you like art, as many of our galleries are full and we could use the storage space. We appreciate it. We are not, however hanging art at your place in infantile ideas that it will get us anywhere socially or financially. Social and financial issues are for socialites and accountants. Again, we are artists. Hanging our art out of our site is always a risk, and one that is not taken lightly. Hours, months and years have sometimes gone into the making, and we do not relish the idea of uninvited fingering of our creations. As all museums know, acid of the hand will in the long run damage art, besides someone might sneeze on it.

     Why Artists take the risk: There is a good reason that we hang our art in other places.  In all likelihood, we are hanging our art at your place, because we like you. Most of us have no need to be shown, so that argument is mute. One artist (myself), has been creating art for 35 years, painting for 24 years,  is known worldwide and has sold hundreds of works to many more countries than I can presently count. Basically, the favor you present is being done for you.

     Any and all opinions, yeah buts, whys or other noises will be respectfully heard and promptly dismissed, unless I tire, then they’ll be dismissed before hearing, and you’ll be asked to refer to your dog shampooer.

At Your Service,

Tina Jones

(Who at times, "shares the love" while toting a cat of nine tails.)

"Don't Look Back"
16x20
Acrylic on Canvas
(sold with attendant rant which they tell at social gatherings, including their audacity to rename the work. My title, which stands, wasn't provocative enough to make for chit chat, so the painting is also known as *Electric Nude.* Sighs...so the story grows....so I nap.)

Messing With the Masters: Leonardo DaVinci Video

If you've been reading, you know I have a thing for Leo. This is my first effort at painting him, but I'm sure I'm not done. This is a roughly two hour work, just to show what can be done.

"Waking Leonardo"
30x40"
Acrylic on Canvas

Following is a video I made of this piece with a short commentary on the gifts of Autism.

http://youtu.be/B1w5lzqOXlk

Diagnosis: Asperger's

 I was recently formally diagnosed with Asperger's, a subset of Autism. 19 years ago, when my son was diagnosed with Severe Autism, I began asking questions, and I read Temple Grandin's first book called, "Emergence. Labeled Autistic" As I read, the denial that there was nothing different about my son, that he was only like me, began to fade. I was partially right. He was like me, and by the end of the book, I knew I had many characteristics of Autism myself.
   Being a parent takes 150% of whatever you've got, and when a special needs child is involved, there is little time, or I didn't make time, for me. It was hard and remains the most rewarding thing in my life. My son became one of my best friends, and often my teacher and my hope.
  Last year, after surviving cancer, I had a deeper sense than ever about how quickly life can be over. We don't know how much time any of us has. There was something I felt I'd left undone both for myself and for my children or any other person that might seek help one day. I wanted them to have a precedent of someone who willingly walked through the diagnosis process even with hands shaking and heart racing. My son was only two when his began. Professional diagnosis is not for everyone. It's the path I needed to take. I needed to let my son know he was not by himself in Autism.
   I began making phone calls and early this year, I found a psychologist at a local University who specialized in the diagnosis and treatment of Autism. The whole process took about four months, as part of my evaluation was part of the study of post graduate students working along side the Psychologist/Professor. I was pleased to able to take part in their education to one day help others with Autism. I met once a week for a while, then the last month or so was waiting. I'm a very patient person, and I knew inside already, so this was not a big problem for me. Any moment that I felt discouraged, I just thought about my children, and I was ok.
   There were many tests, all of which were given in a helpful spirit. I was treated with respect, tenderness and thoroughness. It was difficult, challenging and some days even fun. Some days I cried, some days it took everything I had to get out of my car and walk into the clinic,  but I kept the mental image of my brave son and daughter in my mind to let me know, I was not alone either.
   On June 14th of this year, 2011, I went to receive their findings.
 "Diagnosis: Asperger's Disorder"
    For my children, my grandchildren and their grandchildren:
You are not alone, you never have been, and you never will be. Should any fear come to you, I believe in you, and you can do what you need to do. I'm always with you.
    My son, my daughter and I used to take turns singing lines of a (perhaps silly) song together before he could talk. I heard my son singing a line softly, and he stopped when he realized I noticed. I sang the next line, and he continued. For the three of us, singing was our communication before conversation. We used it as a lullaby among others. They had such amazing voices! Barry and Eve, this one is for you.....You're my heroes! Thanks for comming into my life!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hchsGFGd24E
"Anything," smiles. Love, Mom (tina jones)

"First Kiss"
(my grandchildren)
18x24" Oil on Canvas