I Need to Sleep

 

O.K.  Who didn't think it would happen?  They don't mean things like this, though.  

Here are some of the top picks from this year's Armory Show (link).  These are not A.I.  The A.I. art is much more complicated.  

As I've said, though, I am making illustrations, not art.  It has been more of an educational journey than a creative one.  I've learned to use "the medium" a bit, and have learned much about its limitations and the limitations it forces on the user.  And sometimes, of course, I just get a kick out of making images move.  It has been interesting.  But don't get me wrong.  I like all my "creations" plenty, but I make no claim to art.  

But I think I could be an illustrator.  

O.K.  Back to the troubles of my times.  Travis and his family came up to see my mother yesterday.  When he left, he texted that she looked really good.  And it is true.  Her comeback has been astounding.  After they left, I took my mother to the dining hall and sat with her and another woman for lunch.  After that, we rolled out onto the big balcony and sat in the shade for a very long while.  When I was leaving, she said she'd had a really good time.  

Earlier, I had been at her house with the HVAC repair guy.  He was there for an hour, and once again, the A.C. is working.  

When I got back to my house, I thought I had the afternoon free.  But my life is not like that now.  In a story far too complicated to explain here, I ended up having the same company come to my house to fix a problem with the gas pressure at the apartment.  And. . . it was the same guy I'd seen at my mom's house at eight that morning.  When he finished the repair, it was past time for a Negroni and a trip to the Greek place for chicken and salad.  The tenant wanted some, too.  We got takeout and brought it back to my house to eat.  

Not long after we finished, Mr. Tree was at the door with his wife, the Cuban surgeon.  They came in and sat down.  He brought a bottle of scotch.  

It went on and on.  They didn't leave my house until 12:30.  

I feel like shit this morning, but I have no time to lollygag.  I have to be at the bank when it opens so I can pick up signature cards for my mother.  I have to be at the rehab joint at ten so that I can ride with her in their van transporter to a doctor's appointment.  

Tonight, I will collapse.  

Oh. . . I asked the Cuban surgeon if she knew anyone who could remove a curse.  Santeria is big in Cuba.  She laughed and said, "Don't mess with that stuff."

"You don't believe in that voodoo, do you?"

Of course she didn't. . . but. . . she's seen things. . . .