Crisis of Character

A weekly update followed by a void.

I rewrote Time Upon a Once three times this week and wrote forty-three new Onces that I'll be making the final decisions on next week.  I'm reluctant to post my best work lest it be stolen.  I copyright everything through Creative Commons and the Poor Man's Copyright.  The Poor Man's Copyright is mailing your material to yourself via certified mail.  The educated postal workers in CdA know immediately what I'm doing and help as much as they can.  Seriously, yesterday the clerk noticed I was mailing a letter to myself and immediately taped the edges and stamped every open space.  I adore my new posties.  Oh, and she didn't even mail it just made me fill out all the forms and show her my ID before sending me home with it.

As for the introduction of the new idea, I'm just plain paranoid.  It's a cool idea and the librarians are all very excited to put it on the shelf.  The central character experienced an identity crisis this afternoon and changed everything about her life.  She's okay now, but I have no rough draft to post.

And since I thanked the Coeur D'Alene posties for being helpful, I need to thank the librarians in CdA.  Always helpful with questions and suggestions but, most importantly, they let me sit with all the other children and read books.  Once they even loaned me one of their big people chairs from behind the counter so I wouldn't poke out my eyes with my knees.  Thank you librarians of CdA.

Oh, and for a weekly motel update the people in the Ocean Room are boisterous as the waves crest and the couple in the Montana Room started a fire.  They used the fireplace but not the flue.

Artistic Compromise Corner

I believe most bloggers forget the importance of a well-conceived thesis statement to engage their readership.  Some, who shall go nameless, decorate piggish posts with randomly placed photographs and cutesy captions in the name of entertainment.  We here at Jotsalot know our readers expect something better.  We like to think of you as hummingbirds dipping tongues into blogdom's tastiest nectar until all hell breaks loose in the Idea Department and we lose our thread then we reference our title which functions as a thesis statement:  This blog is about artistic compromise.

Still hovering at an impressive 55 flaps per second?  Do you just know good reading is a tongue flick away?

You can read Braille with your tongue.  That's a fun fact I made up, but it's possible and no one will borrow your books.  It's like when you pick your nose and reach for the nachos but you really didn't pick your nose you just wanted all the nachos for yourself but there's always someone hungry enough or drunk enough to eat from the other side and ruin your plan.  Artistic compromise is the guy willing to risk a booger to get the nachos.

Was that graphic enough?  Okay, by now you're wondering why this is about us.  I know almost everyone who reads this blog except for the Malaysian contingent and the odd person from Russia who clicks on the XXX Post every day.  It's always the XXX Post and always from Russia.  I don't get it, but I admire their patience.  For giggles type XXX Post into a search engine.  Know what you find?  Someone clicking on millions of links before getting to Jotsalot Media LLC.  MILLIONS!  I wonder if they even bother to read it after all that.  You know how artistic compromise happens?  Trying to move up a few million spots by posting your boobs.

It's getting late and I know one of you is waiting to read this and go to bed.  Right Mother of Sam?

Oh all of us create in some way, that's why it's about us.  Whether you're writing, painting, animating, nannying, photographing, or under-tipping your waitress; you're creating something.  Every action and thought lasts forever so do you really want to throw together something like this paragraph?  I don't think so.

I went a full twenty tonight.  Here's looking at you, Cliff.  Groak.  Fubsy.

Perspective

I'm playing spin the bottle with my liver in a motel room.  It's not nearly as creepy as it sounds because I have a beautiful view and I can hear the neighbor's headboard banging the wall to keep me from feeling alone.  He, however, is and that qualifies as creepy.

Cantankerous  Mr Blogspot  randomly moves things around to make me angry.  I say good for him because I just discovered with the right cropping, and two beers, the reflection looks like a heinie.

The first pic of my triptych illustrating my need to see details and wholes. 

Now it's finding its path to where it wants to be.  Life works like that.

Looks a little like Paris.  Maybe they spent hours pondering the reflective qualities of Bennett Bay or maybe it was an accident that worked.  I peek out my window and wonder if they have good food.  Probably not.  A good walking distance restaurant is uphill there and downhill home and they are uphill home from me.

Just One of the Guys

Head East Young Man.

IT started out fun enough.  Wander around noting the the local flora and fauna, interact with a few locals, maybe find a reasonably priced ocean view. . .  Somewhere between "No just us guys. We'll leave the wives at home, sit around the fire smoking and talking sports. It'll be a lark" and "They put us on stamps!" Lewis and Clark got whiny. The boys emotionally scarred innocent places with I-wanna-go-home names like Cape Disappointment and Dismal Notch. Both beautiful places if you dress appropriately and think to bring Scrabble for rainy days which they didn't because they were trying to prove to their wives that real men only need the thoughts of other men to be entertained. For the record, most men's thoughts aren't all that entertaining which is why we have thousands of names for a woman's happy place including "happy place" but only one word for philosophy.

I had a job interview today and accepted the job and I think everyone on Team Jotsalot will benefit, except for Prudence who will be carrying a heavy load in the future. I'll bauble her with new tires and oil changes, maybe put a little something special in her tank, she'll be happy.

In other Jotsalot news I cracked myself up the other day. That's always good. I almost never make myself laugh.  In two weeks, I'll be making other people laugh for money.  In six weeks, Jotsalot will be unleashed in a more powerful form.

It Gets in Your Shoes

All the world is a litter box and we're merely temps in it.

I've spent the last two weeks working on the beach.  One week setting up and taking down ninety-one volleyball courts and the next week putting up and taking down seventy-two catering tents.  All that grunting, groaning, cramping and sand reminded me of my childhood dream of joining the French Foreign Legion.  It would have sucked, except for the hat, because once you have a boot full of sand there's no way to empty it in the middle of the desert, but I was a kid and didn't think it through.  A slight groin pull reminded me I went to college and I needed more cerebral work.  So. . .

I applied for a job proofreading porn sites.  I'm not sure what that means but you work from home.  I hope it's only counting fingers and toes because me looking at naked women all day would be like beaming Food Network into an Ethiopian refugee camp.  That analogy needs shortening it's like the spawn of War and Peace and Remembrance of Things Past, but I'll leave that to you.  I'll leave reading those two beauties to you too.

I'm just off.  I used to have timing and such, but I must have left it on the beach.

My motel neighbor hung a Warning! Guard Dog on her door instead of  Do Not Disturb.  Honest to G-d.

Have I mentioned I thought I was afraid of heights?  Turns out I'm really afraid of gravity.

Next week I'm only writing and shooting sunsets.  Expect to see sunsets.

I Can't Let Go

Remember this from The Goonies?

You know why it's crooked and there's a rail in it? My legs refused to walk to the rail and I got dizzy looking through the viewfinder. This is Astoria, Columbia River, Youngs River and Pacific in one pic.

Limited Connectivity

You have the choice of writing or pics, but the free range organic Oregon coast wifi can't handle both. I had so many wonderful things to relate, but I just can't right now. For example I found a perfect spot for Mr B to perform his Brando Apocalypse Now impersonation. He does a mean Brando. Oh and I found six places to shoot At Home with the Gnomes today. This place just works for me.

Walk through the opening and you're standing in the roots of a huge tree. One of the cooler discoveries of the trip.

Shark! Shark! Nope a one-eyed sea lion hunting lunch.

Astoria's commercial fishing port and sailor loving groupies.

It looks crooked in real life too. I used the Crouchman Technique to hand hold a long exposure even though my tripod was fifty yards away.

Look Ma! No Thoughts!

Hi. Not a single thought and I can't think of a highlight to share.  The good news is I'm going to try again later or maybe tomorrow. I'll make something up if I have to.

Here's my brain fart of the day: I'm trying to communicate with the Spanish speaking maid, but lacking Spanish I go with the next logical choice--Lithuanian.

Last week I picked up garbage for the Seaside Chamber of Commerce. I'm not sure why, but the head of the Chamber felt compelled to point out to me "we don't usually get temps with your intellect."

I wandered off the highway looking for an old fashioned barber shop and ended up in the town where they filmed "Twilight." "Halloweentown" and a Foo Fighters video have also been filmed there. I got coiffed in the salon that was used as Petite Jolie in "Twilight."

Start notes here: MG haha you're a girl, but at least you don't have to read about it. Twilight. Mt Hood. Mt St Helens. Temp intellect. Standing up to corporate. Life path of mines. Garbage collecting. Haircut. The three scary words more or less. Clams like chicken. Gore stories of the Chamber of Commerce.

Hedonophobia

This is me with my thinking cap on.

Sometimes I think so hard my hair changes color.

You all asked to see the face behind the blog and, although I'd prefer to let The Minions be the official face of Jotsalot Media LLC, I'm obliging.  No feeling of sacrificing my privacy here, I gave that up years ago when I posed for Playgirl's Former Child Stars of the Big Ten issue. What can I say it was 1983 and I had abs and a visible jawline. Search for it online or rummage through my storage shed for the last remaining copy. My well-intentioned parents bought the others thinking it would kill my comeback which it couldn't because I had five bit parts in 1972 and I'm much more comfortable being naked in front of camera but I can't do porn because well, read my most recent personal ad

SWM seeks F. I'm height and weight proportionate if I were a penguin with a thyroid problem. I have a few phobias that won't affect our relationship unless you try to touch me. I'm really lots of fun except for the touching thing. Call me.

 What else is new? I'm really tired of living the life of a high-end transient. Here's a new word for you gaberlunzie. Now matter how you say it or spin it, I'm tired of wandering in circles. I need a place to work in peace and finally unpack after twelve years in storage.

I love the coast. I was born to live seaside.

Astoria

I now have two P.O. boxes which, I think, triggers an investigation. Would you like the address in Missoula or Astoria? Neither?

If you really want to see Astoria all dressed up watch Kindergarten Cop. It's a beautiful place with a real downtown filled with small businesses and seagulls.

I'm really tired and going to bed. Maybe tomorrow I'll post pictures of our trips to Mt St Helens. You must visit it if you haven't already.

Boat entering downtown Astoria's harbor.

Mr B at Mt St Helens.  Tricky lighting.

Christening by Seagull

Mr B with Mt Rainier trying to upstage him.

Greetings from the Lamplighter's 127. A one night only roof on Jotsalot's Final Re-Nest Tour. I've declared this my home and I'm never moving again. Sure the streets are labeled in Finnish and seagulls battle sea lions for being the loudest. but the place really appeals to the Pisces in me.

I left Missoula thirty-six hours later than planned (not counting the four years on the original schedule). I blame optimism. I sincerely believed everything was under control, ahead of schedule, firing on all cylinders until I started packing props and photography stuff. My living room held: seven glass heads, three mannequin torsos, a 50s beauty salon hairdryer (you know the chair with the beehive thing), dozens of small props, and an enlarger. None of which wanted packing. I knew all those glass heads were going to bite me in the ass some day. Everyone always commented on them, and they work great for hats, but maybe I didn't need to have seven of them around the room. Okay, secretly I want more when I have the space. But the real challenge was getting The Minions organized and packed or specifically A Minion.

Ms Marigold seemed content, even relieved, to stay in Montana, but Mr B wasn't having anything to do with that. He's fun to travel with, the only problem is he's not allowed near campgrounds as part of his probation.*

*Mr B here. I am not on probation I'm in what's called a vocational redirection program. I swear I was just cutting through a busload of tourists, on my way to a berry patch, when I noticed a mosquito on a man's head and thoughtfully swatted it for him. Complete misunderstanding. And for bears reading this, next time someone plays dead try tickling them. They'll still scream and wet their pants, but it's not admissible in court.

Me again. So, I brought him.

Let's get to the highlights, we're hungry

-Ritzville WA is the creepiest, scariest, get me out hereiest place I've ever been

-B, in a clear “vocational redirection” violation, posed with tourists at Mt Rainier

-I drove passed a combination beauty parlor/taxidermist shop which now seems a perfect idea

-I took the last room in Moses Lake right in front of a honeymoon couple

Visa Gera Montana

Ahh, the final post from the Jotsalot Media LLC World Headquarters and I truly have nothing to say. Nothing. Maybe it's because I'm surrounded by unfilled boxes and lists of things to do in the next three days. Maybe it's because I'll be walking the streets of a new town and watching local news in a strange town. I love watching local news on the road. I really do.

I'll miss Miracle of America, Gem Mountain and P-burg and The Bird. Some people too, but I refuse to start a list.

See you next week from a hotel room in Astoria.

Karmageddon

I knew in my heart I hadn't created a new word, but I didn't think it would actually be in the dictionary. Be assured this post will have nothing to do with the title and, in fact, I would change it if I weren't so darned curious about how many extra hits I'll get.

Hello Malaysia, how are you? Thank you for dropping by every week.

All of you have heard, read or discovered (lucky you) that "thoughts become things," right? I'll share with you why I truly believe. I sought the help of a shrink to sort out some issues. Who hadn't guessed I needed professional help? Anyone? Now, I happened upon the only shrink in Montana, or probably anywhere else in the World, that began his career as an accountant, earned his MBA and then went back to school to become a psychologist. I like diversity and divergency so I took his experience as an asset. Ever on the lookout for new ways to avoid discussing feelings, I asked him how he went from business to psychology.

He worked at an ag products conglomerate and one of his duties was teaching free business classes to farmers and ranchers. Being at heart a business man he was always trying to decode why one farm prospered and another barely survived. He'd looked for the answer for several years until one day he saw two farms right across the road from each other and one looked very prosperous and the other was just kind of there.  Both farms had the same topography, acreage, soil, sun, rain, crops, prices for crops whatever they were identical in every way except prosperity. His curiosity compelled him to stop and fate had it the prosperous farmer had been attending the free classes. They got to talking and the farmer glowed when he talked about his farm and how it was putting his kids through college, and they were planning to come home and take it over and some day his grandchildren would own it etc. Shrink met the farmer across the road and Farmer B said just the opposite. His kids wanted nothing to do with farming, nobody ever got rich farming, it is what it is etc.

My former psychologist works almost entirely with corporate clients (only taking "unique and challenging" private patients for fun) and, to get to the end, the consistent difference between prosperity and failure, in every business, is attitude and vision.

This post's Trivia Challenge: How many times did I change tenses mid-stream?

Here's a token graphic.

A Mauling By Any Other Name

How do I disown my sole celebrity Twitter follower?  While pondering that, I arrived at a blog plan stinking of don't feel like it, code named Manana. Right now Manana rhymes with banana but, if you add diacritical marks, it's Spanish.  I love magic.  Watch this transition. Nothing up my cerebellum, my hemispheres are empty. . . but PRESTO! You're still reading!  Holy crap! bring me water the masses demand wine!

Why so Inspired? Yesterday, I witnessed my car turn its lifeblood into steam right in the Albertson's parking lot. Part Old Faithful part racehorse, my car couldn't expel fluids fast enough. But that's not the Miracle.  The Miracle is the day before I had journeyed into the heart of no cell coverage. Thirty miles to the nearest free wi-fi coffee shop and there no guarantee of a call. But my car waited, until I parked at home, to spew a quarter mile from my mechanic.  (That was awkward but I have three minutes until adding softener so deal.)

My favorite place in Montana is The Miracle of America Museum.  I could live there. It's one person's dream running amok perserving other people's dreams. Polson, MT.

Okay, it's Manana and what I really want to tell you about last night's post is that I was repeatedly interrupted and interacted with just when I was rolling. My bubble functions as my creative incubator. I need to not be disturbed and this is why I never have my phone on and leave the house at strange hours.

For the Record Mr B refers to hikers as "land salmon." He felt you should know this.

Pursuing Greener Pastures

I spent the afternoon dismembering roses then huffing their scattered remains.  Or to put it more delicately, I spent two hours preparing a shot that took all of ten minutes to shoot, but my living room sure smells pretty.  Isn't it interesting how the same situation can be viewed in different ways?  Pretty darn deep if you ask me.

You all comment on how introspective I seem and that got me to thinking: Why me?  If I'm the introspective friend in your life you're hanging around escaped balloons at the county fair.  I've lived in. . .  let's count out loud. . . (but only after eighteen because I was cloistered in boarding school which is a lot like "Oliver!" with matching blazers) and here's the list: Boston, Barrington, Iowa City, Tampa, Moline, South Lake Tahoe, Albuquerque, Jersey City, New York, Greensboro, St Claire Shores, South Lake Tahoe, Incline Village, Czestochowa, Klaipeda, Carson City, and Missoula.  I can't identify the constant in all these places and you still think I'm the introspective one?  Vaguely apropos, it's like pinning your hopes on a balloon.  Normally, I  edit the last out and keep it for myself but I feel the need to share.

Sharing. Wow! I think that's how life happens. Keep your fingers crossed because plasma and sperm sales are supporting Jotsalot Media LLC.

I'm leaving Missoula in three weeks to nest somewhere.

Meeting of The Minions II: Time to Lawyer Up

The beauty of rocketing towards poverty is it leaves Tuesdays free.  Not really free, Tuesday's I drive around looking for dead things in the ditch to take pictures of so technically I'm working. Yep, I gave up a lucrative career as a temp/day trader to shoot roadkill.  You know why I'm sharing this? I will dedicate my first book to any tipster who knows where there's a carcass with flowers growing out of it.  (Shhhh don't tell Cliff I'm ripping off his shot.)

Jotsalot Media LLC held its second weekly What-Are-We-Doing meeting, this year, to discuss what exactly it is we're doing.  And if you remember the last time we had a meeting, I made the mistake of asking The Minions what they thought.  Never ask tenured employees what they think.

The Two Rules for Building a Media EmpIre:
1) There is an I in EmpIre
2) Cater the semi-annual weekly meeting and ask questions only when The Minions are chewing 

This morning, The Minions did make some garbled, chin-wiping sense between bites mostly having to do with me.  It's always me like they don't have jobs around here.  I love The Minions, they're like facets of me, but they need to step up, grab the bull by the horns and put their noses to the grindstone.  Not to sound cliche, but they need to give themselves a life wedgie and focus.

Ms M mentioned us needing a lawyer.  But what kind?  Personal injury? Corporate? A shyster willing to bury money in a Swiss backyard?  Lawyers are good letterhead because they scare people.  Their breath smells like they've been licking peanut butter off a dog and they use Latin, but they keep the jackals away.  I agreed to prepare for thinking about a lawyer.

What else happened this week?  I found a one act I wrote in college and added rewriting it to my list of Things That Will Someday Make Me Feel Guilty But I'll Never Do.  And we're a week closer to the Promised Land.

Relativity

I've reached the age when the only women attracted to me have expiring eggs and father issues.

And to be perfectly honest, dealing with that is taking up all my blog energy.

Fudging the Line Between Multi-Tasking and Polygamy

I never asked where babies came from, but one day a doctor came to school and told the girls in the morning and the boys in the afternoon.  I must not have paid attention because I don't have any and the topic of where babies don't come from wasn't covered in fourth grade health.

I don't have any babies to show from Jotsalot Media this week either.  Oh sure, there were the usual scratchings and plannings, but nothing really got done.  It's not that we weren't working, we just didn't actually finish anything-like the corporate laundry.  I washed it and put it in the dryer, but I lacked the attention span to move beyond damp and I have clammy socks to prove it.

Did you know people with ADD are natural multi-taskers?  It makes perfect sense if you think about it.  Eureka! we were multi-tasking and ran out of time.  That's what the week was about.  The good news is, within the next few days, lots will suddenly be finished.  Rationalization complete.

Next week I might try my hand at polygamy.

I went to shoot flood shots today for Timpkins' book.  The thing about Montana is there's always a person or electrical wire or something trying to be in every shot.  Today it was the sun invading and I couldn't get an exposure long enough to make the water move.  I slapped on a neutral density filter and a polarizer and still couldn't get any movement.  But you know what's fun about that?  I changed plans and shot video to sell to an animator I just happen to know.  AND the Genius Bolt zapped me with an idea for my stereoscopic camera.  AND I know where I'll be shooting tomorrow night.  Do so work around here.

Oh and a little tease for next week, I'll be posting Norma Timpkins' "Love Like a Litterbox."

Journey to the Beginning of Time

Do you remember Garfield Goose and Friends?  If you do you're probably maturish and from Chicago.  I don't why it came to me today, but if you remember Garfield Goose and Friends you'll remember a serial about four boys who get lost while rowing in Central Park (yes, the one in New York) and end up in the age of dinosaurs.  Anyway, something prodding my memory after forty-five years was worth at least five minutes of YouTubing.  There's a new verb for you and here's another one Clutch Cargoing (to creep people out using lips).  Okay, not a real productive use of time unless I ask, "What makes work last?"  Why has I Love Lucy been on for almost sixty years?  And how long have people been staring at the Mona Lisa?  Why?  Why?  Why?  If I can answer the why then I just need to answer the how to become immortal in a viral internety way.  Such are the questions I use to rationalize watching Brady Bunch reruns.

I spent the week trying to pay more attention to what's happening outside of my office/dungeon/domicile.  This involved a lot of news watching versus interacting, reading instead of writing and YouTubing.  Am I the last to hear of YouTube?  So, I poke my head out of wherever I keep it and this is what I see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oS4C7bvHv2w  I can't compete with this reality thing.  Be honest could you have imagined this?  Maybe this is what keeps I Love Lucy and the Brady Bunch on all these years.  They're thisclose to reality without ever crossing the boundary into absurd.

Alright, so maybe some of my ideas need a second pair of eyes on them.  And maybe The Minions are developing into flesh and bone characters that are a little too real to be healthy.  And I definitely need to get out more, but I'm not sure I can do reality.

You want fun.  You want to be entertained.  You want almost-kind-of-possible-reality, right?  Okay, because that's where we're headed.

XXX Post

I know you came here expecting to read a fluff piece about matricide, but something important happened last night.

I don't know, if you know, that I've been battling insomnia for the last three years.  I'm afraid to go to bed unless I've been chasing cough syrup with bourbon and sometimes that isn't enough.  Admittedly, I've never been very good at sleeping.  For you it's a natural skill but for me it's about as natural as eating gum off my shoe.  I wish it was only night terrors or mid-night empties, but it's much worse.  There's a demon trying to kill me.  I go to bed a healthy, fearlessly whoozy, self-medicated CEO and wake up an armadillo that works nights as a speed bump.  Today I almost wet myself during the twelve foot trek to the toilet because the stabbing pain in my left buttock left me unable to walk.  An innocent looking, pillow-topped demon named Mattress attacks me at night.

I baubled the Beast with 1200 count sheets and $150 down pillows, but she attacked me all the more-enough.  Evil Mattress will die in a sanitary landfill with diapers and pizza boxes.  She'll be all of three years old.

Okay, now the countdown.  I have three minutes before the fifteen minute blog is finished.  Did you know I set an egg timer and fifteen minutes is what you read?  Pretty simple system.




 

Waiting for the Rapture

What do you mean I can't take the dog?  I can't take The Minions either?  Explain this Heaven thing again.  Oh, they're going.  I guess that makes sense.  Heaven needs a shoe chewer, salmon slapper and helium huffer to keep Their EOE status.  Really?  Just thinking about it was enough?  And I'm guessing the blind thing is true too.  Oh, so not all once it adds up and smacks you when you hit forty.  So every person I see holding a menu at three feet has been. . .  We should have formed a league or something.  Not helping my case, huh?

We had a morbidly introspective week here at Jotsalot Media and it started on Monday.  A Monday morning mirror is a cruel mistress, all about mortality, deadlines and comparisons to classmates doing really well.  Not, we-used-our miles-to-upgrade-to business-class well; we-always-fly-business well.  I fall short of that.  Tuesday I tried on a suit for the first time in nine years only to discover they've all shrunk.  I think it's existential withering from not feeling fulfilled as a garment.  I am the same svelte person I was when I could still see my toes and not time or pizza will change that.  Wednesday I was a debutante waiting to be courted after sending out a resume.  Thursday was plain ugly and I was trying to pretend my resume was just buried in a busy person's cyber in-box.  Today I wrote my little fingers to the bone as it should be.

I suppose some of you are wondering what just happened.  I couldn't resist clicking on the inverted quotation marks and presto! I made this post look really long.  All-in-all it was a productive week and I shouldn't be too hard on myself or The Minions.  And as for the classmate thing, that's a 36x48 sheet of blank paper to fill-every day.   I want to see them try that in business class.

A Tip of the Hat

I know you're here to read my usual self-absorbed ramblings about starting a business, diva employees and finding enough time to do everything.  But this one is going to be different because it's an experiment in attracting attention which I suppose gets back to self-absorbed.

This week I read a book about social marketing and it stated that to attract readers a person should use "topical" words gleaned from search engine lists.  But how to organically work Kleenex, a Kimberly-Clark product, into a post?  I suppose I could mention I attended a private high school in Beaver Dam and write a tear jerking account of my first night there that would have you reaching for a Viva paper towel, but it seems so contrived.

Maybe I could write a glimpse behind the business and allow you into my private world.  Not just the products I use like Yuban coffee and Newman's Own pretzels, but the music I listen to and that sort of thing.  I still listen to Mott the Hoople (and who doesn't?) and a day without the Foo Fighters is a day incomplete.  Johnny Cash, Elvis and Neil Young make me happy too.  Well, and so does the Megan Boyer Band and the Stonethrowers and Bill Evans and Andy Webb.

I like photography.  This could be hurtful if I start mentioning names of people I know and the list is incomplete so I won't do it.  Besides photography is part of work and you already know all about that.

Don't worry this will all be over soon because I really want to watch the Red Wings and eat a Tombstone pizza dinner.

Did I remember to mention Jotsalot Media LLC? Norma Timpkins? The Road Taken Project? Scary Fairy Films? Elana Kemp Honey? Malaysia?

Playing Detective

I think the office is haunted.

The working title for my childrens book is Toe Tag You're It!  It's a murder mystery set on an elementary school's playground with a Sam Spade like fourth grade detective leading the investigation.  No hookers or bookies because that's just creepy and possibly a flag for law enforcement.  We're not anti-law enforcement around here, they've been quite polite when chasing me out of parks and playgrounds.  Working on the art program requires me to wander around parks and playgrounds with a camera and the untrusting think me perverted.  Yeah yeah yeah I need a vicious dog to chase the tykes and moms back to their vans and out of my shots, but a frothing dog is tough to find and harder to train.  I don't even want to get into what happens to the upholstery.

Norma, sweet Norma is working in her garden and not with me right now.  High-strung artsy folk and their moods.  I wish I could lure her out with a carrot, but right now I'm the mule.  You know what's ironic? I used to think my former bosses were asses.

The haunted thing?  Last night I went into the bathroom, lit a candle and called forth Mary Worth.  I didn't see her appear, but this morning there was toothpaste all over the mirror.  Any other explanation?  I think not and then there've been mysterious fires.  I started the one and the second one I started too, but the third started  itself with little more than a match.  I'm not afraid and I will never give up lighting with candles and reflectors.

I'm moving on to working with fog.  I bought a fog machine that spews 1200 cubic yards of fog every 30 seconds and you know there's fun in that.  But what?  But what?!  Perhaps a card and you know what that means.  Yeah baby.

There's Safety in Numbers--IF the Other Numbers are Smaller and Slower

Right now I'm staring at a cannibal bunny Easter card and wishing the idea had been mine. Not the cannibalism part because people taste funny (it's true look it up if you don't believe me), but the bunny gone bad part.  I can imagine hundreds of bad bunny themed cards filling the shelves of the supermarket.  "Move over bread," the manager shouts, "a whole new line of bunnies in bustiers has arrived."  I wouldn't use real rabbits only stuffed ones.  Anyone who has ever tried to take a picture of their pet knows they all become divas with "artistic demands" as soon as they see a camera.  Yep, make your life easier and stick with stuffed animals.  Not that shooting a real bear wasn't fun, but the salmon bill was outrageous. 

The Props Wing

It's been a shooting week with very little writing being done.  It just felt like a good week to try and knock out some of the art program and let the writing age a little.  Writing is always better when it's allowed to age.  Not too much aging or they don't get finished, but just enough aging to gain a little perspective to see what's working and what's not working.  You know what's not working?  Sentences bumping into the picture after like six words.  I'll do it differently next time.

You know what else I'll do differently next time?  Use non-flammable glue.  Do you see the white can on the small table in the middle of the room?  It contains sticky, highly flammable stuff that turns hours of work into ash.  It has potential for fun in imaginative hands (I'm thinking a flaming fire hydrant would make a great picture or a flaming chocolate bunny).

Did you notice how easy I've made it for you to follow me on Twitter?  You're now just a click away from minute-by-minute Jotsalot updates.  Still don't think you're getting enough of us?  You can now like Jotsalot Media LLC on Facebook.  Cool, right?

Learning Which Itch to Scratch

Hi, come on in.  It's so nice of you to drop by my humble blog.

Yea or nay on folksy?  I was watching Deliverance when a sudden yearning for homemade folksy fun filled my thoughts.  Please vote in your comments.

So many of you ask about my creative process.  It's usually phrased something like “They know you're out, right?" so I'll assume it's about my creative process.  Simple, I make it up as I go along. I sit down, without a clue, let my mind go completely blank and override spell check.  Pretty cool, huh?  The less I think the better I work.  Thinking has killed a lot of great ideas around here and I'm working to make sure that never happens again.

Beer helps. 

There are only so many hours a day I can drag pencil across paper.  Did you know the pencil really isn't writing on the paper?   The texture of the paper is rubbing words from the pencil.  So needy is paper to be filled up by thoughts, it will rub a poor pencil down to nothing given the chance. I've been lucky enough to see that happen twice this week.  A collaboration between pencil, paper and me that's resulted in some interesting moments.  Like realizing the pencil isn't really writing on the paper.

Yes, the Timpkins books will contain some of her poetry.  I love her poetry, but I'm not having a lot of success getting any more from her.  I think she wants to see me publish what I have of hers now before adding more to the workload.  She's a thinker she is.  I've given myself six more weeks to have her book ready to show someone.  There's a lot of shooting to be done.  A lot of shooting.

Remember to vote.

Don't You Think Gravity Comes Off As A Little Needy?

Right now I'm battling two songs stuck in my head.  Johnny Cash covering Nine Inch Nails and "five eight eight two three hundred Empire!"  Here's my free business idea of the week: Song Exorcist.  I'll bet it's even unregulated so you could create your own licensing body and charge others to become licensed song exorcists.  Online classes?  Exorcist kits?  800 number for tele-exorcisms?   Oh here's the crack marketing strategy, choose catchy hold music so they have to keep calling back to get rid of a different song.  I should keep this idea for myself, but I'm feeling particularly generous today.

Here's another gift for you from the pen of Timpkins.

Tongues

Your tongue tastes like my tongue

My tongue tastes like your tongue.

A tastier tongue I never did taste.

Too bad we're only six

and both eating paste. 

-Norma Timpkins

Wow! really makes you think.

Now that I've greased your palms, here's a question for you.  Is that poem kind of creepy?  I've read it and read it and read it and sometimes I think it's funny and sometimes I think there's a creepy element to it, but I cling to it still because I have a great idea for a photo illustration.

Two weeks in a row of not feeling it, it must be the resume thing getting to me or the complete lack of sunshine for six months.

When You Name the Stone in Your Shoe, You've Given Up

"An eye patch and hook looks uncoordinated, but add a parrot and you're an entrepreneur with flexible hours and wenching.  I'm not sure how that works, but it doesn't seem fair." -Norma Timpkins

"Nothing is fair until you're atop the food chain; then everything is fair." -J. Esten-Thomas

The above was a paid advertisement for Jotsalot Media.  We're a really happy group creating things that strike us as funny.  Fun is money.  Money is fun.  Fun is contagious so money is too.  Logically that works and in a real life dirt-under-the-fingernails level it works too.  It's the Fear Filter that keeps us from accepting that.

We aim to change all that.

I'm pretty sure this whole post has been an advertisement for us.  But you know how it is when you'rethisclose and can't stand it another second.  Or maybe you know what it's like when you're hungry and you just don't know what to write.

This just isn't my night.

Crawl Toddle Walk

We celebrated Jotsalot's first birthday by doing our taxes.  The Marketing and PR Departments thought huddling in a dark corner over pitchers and wings was the way to celebrate, but I'm the boss.  Maybe not the brains, but the boss.

Thank goodness the Plasma Sales Division generated pure profit because the Publishing and Companionship Sales Divisions were--cute.  Not puppy cuddly cute, gum will hide the tequila breath cute.   Not too bad for a first year, although I really expected to have more to show people like. . .um. . . something.

Many of  you received the inaugural marketing ploy t-shirt with corporate tramp stamp.  I did invent the corporate tramp stamp and I'm really hoping that will lift the company into the black.  I'm not pinning my hopes on it, though.  You pin hopes on lottery tickets and rich widows who like tequila.  The corporate tramp stamp is a well thought out plan for the future just ask Ms M.

Technically the first year was a learning experience on so many unsharable levels.  I understand a lot more and have a more defined vision for the business.  I think focus will help.

That's all there is from Jotsalot this week.

Happy Birthday to Me

Today is the first birthday of Jotsalot Media LLC.  Many more please.

Fishing a New Stream of Consciousness

Mr B

Someone cynically asked if finishing something was one of Jotsalot Media's secret projects.  A question I referred to Mr B in the PR department.

His response was businesslike, yet playfully cryptic.

"Splashing around in a river isn't always about finding food, sometimes it's just plain fun to bitch slap a salmon."

I think that says it all, or at least something.  It certainly sums up the approach of Jotaslot's Secret Projects Department.  Really, it needn't be a secret and I'm only using it as a ruse to keep you coming back.  "Will it be this week he reveals he's started writing a children's book?"  One of the secret projects is a children's book that I think will make the parents and kids laugh.  If nothing else, we're about fun around here.  Fun and Ka-ch$ng!

Timpkins' books are an evolving work I really hoped to have had finished by now.  We started with the idea of four separate books tentatively titled Wisdom, Vices, Virtues and Misspent Youth (I never liked that one.  I don't think she reads this so I can say that.)  I had redecided to put them together in one book, but now that I see them listed it might be fun to mix Wisdom & Vices and Virtues & Misspent Youth.

What do you think?

Repressing Memories of Deadlines Passed

On Monday I decided reading once in awhile isn't such a bad idea.  Peek at what others are doing, support the industry, look smart that sort of thing, but now I'm not too sure.  Someone recommended a book which begins with the dog dying.  At least Old Yeller offered up a few happy moments before--you know.  I can't say any more about it because I haven't read it, but I suspect I won't fall out of bed laughing.

This week was all about working on the secret projects that give me goosebumps.  And no, not another greeting card those goosebumps are because it's cold and I'm naked.  Actually, the last Christmas card wasn't so bad because the string of lights and tinsel were surprisingly warm.  I'm talking about magical goosebumps that only appear when you're doing exactly what you were put on Earth to do.  One project is for me and no one else will ever see it.  You might see parts of it, but you won't know it's from it or I'll never be able to write it.  The other I hope you'll see because showing it off is the reason I'm doing it; showing it off and goosebumps.  I'm having way too much fun right now to even pretend it's work.

Yeah, about the title.  Perhapsing here, but creating 126 illustrations in three months was thinking too ambitiously.  Sometimes I hate the mortal limitations of time and attention span.  They're inversely related, if you think about it.

Love, Technically Speaking

I love the familiar and by familiar I mean low tech and by low tech I mean pencil.  Pencils respect my giant intellect and do exactly what I want them to do with unquestioning awe.  They never question my spelling with squiggly red lines or try to finish my words.  Oh yeah,  Auto Spell reminds me of the very first dirty joke I brought home from grade school

A:  What word begins with f and ends with u-c-k?
B:  I don't know.
A:  Firetruck.

Yep, that one wowwed the dinner table and I wasn't even trying to use it as a verb.  Nor was I trying to use it as a verb all last week when I was trying to print landscape and my computer wouldn't let me.  But the superiority of pencils over computers isn't really what I learned last week.  I've known that for years.  It's the superiority of creativity over machine.

I love the wonder of making thoughts appear.  I'm amazed how scratching words across paper can create something that makes me laugh for days or how painting chemicals on an ordinary sheet of paper lets it capture light and I can hand that piece of paper to anyone, at any time, and they can see that light and I can say, "This moment of light was important to me and I want to share it with you." 

I think I just wrote the Jotsalot Media creed.  Odd, I meant to ask whether you would like to hold a real book or an ebook and I just answered my own question.

The Business Plan aka The Anal-Retentive's Procrastination Guide

The richest man who ever lived wrote, "Without a vision The Minions will spend a lot of time on Facebook."

I decided this week was a good one to define the corporate vision beyond just Ka-CH$NG!  We needed plans for our products.  Production plans, marketing plans, distribution plans, suitcases of cash to Switzerland plans.  All these plans required steps, steps required deadlines and deadlines required a calendar.  The good news is we now have a plan, on the wall, of every minute of every day for the next year.  I even inked in blog updates and haircuts.  Now the questions of what? and when? will never be uttered around here again. 

That being said. . .

Have you noticed it's easier to write while painting?  Taking a walk or playing with cameras works for me too.  What is it about not sitting purposefully at my kitchen table that allows me to get more done?  It's like I have to sneak up on writing to do it.  Good thing I have Timpkins and The Minions to do the creative heavy lifting.

I'm still blaming the weather.

The Vice of Virtues

A horrible, confusing and largely cloudy week in the office.  That emotional weather report brought to you courtesy of Any Excuse in a Storm.

This week I explored the gray areas of vices, virtues and how to organize a book where forgiveness appears as both.  Do I play Webster and list by word or cling to having vice and virtue sections?  If forgiveness is both, how to illustrate?  And, why didn't I stick with being a busboy?  There's a question keeping me up at night.  I was really good at it and loved the free food.  I'm vamping now because it moves the cursor along until just maybe it bumps into the idea I'm searching for. . .and. . . nothing.  I'm thinking a little practical procrastination might help the process.  I'll do that when I'm done with this.

The movie division of Jotsalot Media is working on a screenplay or rather one of five depending on Mr B's mood.  I would prefer he finish the one on the drawing board, but he seems inspired by an animated script featuring a dancing pig.  I'm the boss in title, but The Minions only obey inspiration and mood.  Is obedience a vice or a virtue?  Timpkins didn't write anything on the subject and, if she does, she'll probably make it both to torment me.  For Timpkins being a smartass is definitely a virtue.

Ms M is convinced there's a future in refrigerator magnets.  I'm convinced her idea belongs under Practical Procrastination and she needs to be redesigning our logo.  But she's inspired so I'll give her another week.

Maybe next week there'll be pictures of refrigerator magnets posted here.  I'd check back, if I were you.

Love Only Works Weekends

Norma Timpkins wrote, "Love is like trying to blow bubbles with a rock" and then copyrighted it.

It's a Valentine's Weekend which is so much better than rubbing my nose in it for just one day.  The romantic highlight of the weekend, so far, is the mule deer have started eating the official deer food and stopped taking turns tonguing the finch feeder.  Anyway, both sides are happy so I'm calling it romance.

Norma Timpkins delivered her outline and sample entries for Vices and Virtues which is confusing.  Not confusing that she delivered it two months ahead of schedule, but that she uses vices as virtues and vice v----.  For example, Timpkins seems torn between whether chastity is a virtue or a vice.  I think chastity is a virtue unless you have a choice.

We are making progress on Wisdom and the other Top Secret projects and everything is ahead of schedule.

Here's my weekly opportunity.  Have you ever wanted to photograph and write?  Have you ever wished someone would outline the piece and give you a shot list and even pay you?  Must love and own a dog.  A dog is central to completing the work.  A seasoned Labrador with a wise, enthusiastic face is the ideal.

Quality Time Revisited

If you read Friday's post, you'll recall I was going blind from sitting in front of the computer all day and I am. And you might remember I was farming out the busy work, like accounting and web design, to spend more time on the fun stuff.  And just now it occurred to me that I could eliminate even more computer time by posting only once a week.  Jotsalot Media is now posting only on Fridays.

The Virgin's White Flag or SWM Seeks Help

On Monday Jotsalot Media was recovering from a weekend's worth of pondering how to out Norma Timpkins without really outing her and why I was going blind.  Not yippee-I'm-getting-a-dog blind, but I-finally-get-how-Superman-fooled-Lois-with-glasses blind.  I sense you're not drowning in my deep thoughts or even considering hooker shoes to keep your socks dry, but these are my thoughts.


You've read what I did with Norma, now here's how I'm addressing the blind thing.  I quit.  And it's a victory quit like when you stop being polite and ask to use the bathroom.  That's the kind of quit I'm talking about.

Ms. Marigold and Mr. B (aka The Minions) are amazing at their jobs and can't wait to get to them.  Sure they look good hanging around the reception area exchanging glances, but that's not what they were hired to do.  Just like I wasn't born to spend thousands of millions of hours sitting in front of a computer trying to build a website when there are people who enjoy doing it.  They enjoy it and I pay them to have fun.  It's the circle of life at it's happiest.  So, here's how it's going to work around here from now on: The Minions will minion, I'll create and hire accountants, web designers and personal trainers to do what they do.  Everyone is happy and I'll know whether or not it's Athena with highlights (looks good) or Lois in heels.

Who is Norma Timpkins?

I was listening to my Mott the Hoople CD  hoping for blogging inspiration and, not hearing anything I could mangle into a post,  I decided to answer the question a lot of you are asking:  Who is Mott the Hoople?

No, but for some of you, Norma Timpkins is the Loch Ness monster, Big Foot and Commitment rolled into a great big WHO?  She's a real person or a facet of a real person who wishes to remain private.

I met "Norma Timpkins" at a poetry reading at the Children's Museum in Carson City about 8 years ago.  Standing on the stage in a blue cardigan and red turtleneck looking like a Talbot's cover, she read "Our Love is Like a Slug," "Magic Caterpillar Fingers" and ended with "Kisses Like Heaven Eats Peanut Brittle."  Brilliant.  We were the only two people in the room that got it was a joke and we bonded.  She's single, 77 and lives in Wells.

And Mott the Hoople was a fantastic band from the 70s.

Dreams: Taste Like Chicken?

I have a beer's worth of updating because I've done about a beer's worth of work at Jotsalot this week.


You know how they, parents mostly, tell you not to quit your day job but you do anyway and now live in their basement which is why they told you not quit your job in the first place?  That has nothing to do with me or Jotsalot or Timpkins and her fully functioning fax machine which has been sending me warm scrolls of editing all week.  What does concern me and The Minions is retirement.  It's been taking up a lot of my thinking lately leaving limited lobe capacity for editing, website building, illustrating and, oh yeah, WORK.  Why am I suddenly concerned about retirement?  I think it has something to do with stalking classmates on Facebook and seeing how secure they look with their houses, law partnerships and children.  My God they've even bred successfully!

And here I am weeks into a business wondering about it all.  I have complete resolution and confidence in the business, but sometimes I think I just need a little "like everyone else."

Okay, my beer is making that barely splashy sound when I shake it and thus ends another week at Jotsalot Media LLC.

Taking a Spin Class

On Sunday afternoon we do a lot of what I call "big thinking" here at Jotsalot.  Now other people might call it strategic rationalizing or even napping, but I like big thinking.  Real and promising ideas are generated and even written down on the Someday List of Grand Ideas so it really isn't time wasted so much as time unaccounted for.  But enough about watching football with my eyes closed.

I've decided hiring out some of the art for the Timpkins books would be a good thing.  If you are a photographer, illustrator or other and interested, please contact me for a list.

Meeting of The Minions

Today Jotsalot Media held its first Friday Where are we? meeting.  I thought it would be a good idea to meet once a week over bagels and discuss where we are as a company.  You know, are we meeting deadlines? does anyone have any suggestions or grievances? that sort of thing.  The suggestions and grievances part was a strategic error on my part, but live and learn.  For example, creative people can be sensitive not me personally, except sometimes I feel like my underwear has handles for the World's wedgie-giving convenience, but some around the office are.  I thought they understood that me in my boxers was no different than Hef in his pajamas, but I guess not.

I think most of what goes on around here should be private so you'll have to wait until The Minions' tell-all book.  Here's the where we are part

The illustrating of Timpkins' Wisdom book took a leap forward this week when we found out there's a photography studio available for hourly rental.  That makes a number of ideas possible that were shelved due to space and lighting limitations plus it frees up layout/work space in the office.

Timpkins' first book should be off to the copyright office on schedule and the ISBN will be applied for at the same time.

We're still looking for someone to build our website and still considering hiring out some of the illustration work.

Hey, maybe that was the boring stuff.  Hmm. . .  You want to hear about Poppy's dirty little secret?  She's working on a blog.

Out of the Closet

It was an interesting weekend for Jotsalot Media.  I had a thought, which is always a good thing unless it's that one about the bus stop which is bad.  But if you can think all the way back to Friday, or just scroll down and read, you'll remember I'd decided I need to get out of the offices a little more.  On a couple different levels.

This is one. 

Productivity

Not exactly a productive week around the halls of Jotsalot Media.  In fact I would probably fire myself, or at least lock myself in stocks next to the watercooler so The Minions could throw damp paper cups at me, if I had stocks or a watercooler.  I'm sure The Minions would have loved the idea.  I tried blaming the diet and my weakened state but that took the week off too.  Weather had a shot at having caused  Warm Toasty Bed Disease, but I think it's something else.  You don't start a business without wanting to show it off once in a while.  It's  like owning a juggling dog and not taking it to bars to get free beer, it's just wrong.  So this weekend I need to figure out how to get my juggling dog outside.

So to speak.

Rock Paper Scissors or To Kill a Spider

Answer: Rock, paper, scissors.
Answer: Jots, Bernie and Poppy.
Question: Name three things useless in building a website? 

Today Jotsalot Media went for a walk. Dragging the minions, aka Bernie and Poppy, out for a bracing -4 stroll around the neighborhood just seemed so right.  We were an impressive trio with me recording the minutes into a micro recorder, Bernie holding his "Yogi was framed!" sign and Poppy in her flight attendant's uniform directing us to the exit at every corner.  What we thought was stunning was "appalling, disgusting and disturbing" (the top three responses) to the locals and that was also their response to our website.  This from a populace that eats sauteed bull's balls with eggs.  Bull's balls are actually pretty good if you don't think about it unlike our website.  Anyway, what we decided is we need to farm out the website building.  Anyone interested?

Smaller. Smaller is good.

Well, it's a new year and everyone here at Jotsalot Media is on a diet including Jotsalot Media itself. In order to be a more dynamic, efficient cash cow. . . oh who are we kidding, what we're really trying to do is get things out the door. Calendars are fun. Cards cards are fun. But with limited staff it's just impossible to do everything so we've decided to concentrate on Norma Timpkins' work and plan to have four books out this year. Two by the end of June and two in time for Christmas shopping. At the same time the books are published, t-shirts with your favorite Norma quotes will become available.  Pretty cool, right?  We at the marketing meeting thought so.

Hmmm. . .I know there was more. . .yeah, we might be looking to buy original photos, paintings etc to illustrate books.  Stay tuned for details.