Category Archives: Paffooney

Art Both Artistical and Photographical… but Recent!

This old cottonwood has been a frequent subject of photos in my summer posts, It stands on the corner next to Grandpa Aldrich’s farmplace, which became my parents’ place, and now belongs to me and my two sisters.
An illustration from a work in progress… Zam the Leaf Witch demonstrates magic on the feast table.

The waterfalls near Joplin, Missouri, an odd travel stop.

A portrait of a young nudist friend, in pen and ink, and later color.

Taking a photo of Bil Baird’s puppets.
Homemade paper dolls made with a scanner/copier, paper, scissors, cardboard, and Elmer’s Glue.
Ricky Porter was a high school senior in the 1990s.

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Filed under artwork, humor, nudes, Paffooney, photo paffoonies

Saturday is Art Day!

If I am not going to publish a Hidden Kingdom page every Saturday, I am going to commit to a feature where I post artwork on Saturday. Saturday art fairs are a thing. And I have gotten far more interest in my artwork from WordPress than I ever have from a local art show. So what if I can’t win blue ribbons online?

Cartoons are basically art with words added… often stupid words… for laughs.

Being able to draw gives your imagination wings to fly with.
Art is my religion.

There is a certain magical quality about the way that over time you can build a portfolio of many parts, and pictures have many uses.

Is it possible that artworks taken all together are like an autobiography??

In some sense, every portrait the artist draws is a self portrait. Every scene, object, and image is a part of the artist’s ultimate story.

Imaginations can be both electric and powerful.
Not everything is as alien as it seems at first.

So, do you like my gallery? You can always leave a comment or an insult. You are the viewer, and what you do with this is entirely up to you.

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Filed under artwork, autobiography, Paffooney

How to Talk to Real People

While visiting in Iowa, I ran into an old high school friend at a local eatery. I remember how in high school and junior high, I played basketball on the same team with him, I listened to his exaggerations about a probably non-existent sex life, and helped him on one or two occasions to get answers on Math homework (even then the teacher in me wouldn’t let me just give him the answers, I always made him work out the answers step by step).

Now he is a judgmental and basically crabby old coot. He is a Trump supporter, hater of immigrants who take American jobs, and an unpleasant arguer of politics. And the sorest point about his intractable coot-i-ness is the fact that, as a classmate, he is the same age as me and I am, therefore, just as intractably coot-y as he is.

So, how exactly do you talk to a mean old coot?

Well, you have to begin by realizing that it is not like the dialogue in a novel or TV show. This is a real person I was talking to. So, I had to proceed by accepting that he thinks I am an idiot and anything I say and think is wrong. Not merely wrong, but “That’s un-American and will lead to a communist takeover of our beloved country!” sort of wrong. I can then laugh off numerous Neo-Nazi assertions by him, make snarky comments about his praises for the criminal president, and generally get along with him like old friends almost always do. I play my part just as furiously as he plays his, and we both enjoy the heck out of it.

We are both of us crazy old coots, likely to say just about anything to get the other one’s goat. Getting goats is apparently vital to the conversations of real people. But we have more in common than we have as differences. We don’t keep score in our world-shaking debates, nor do we count how many goats we get. And that is how you talk to real people.

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Filed under characters, humor, insight, oldies, Paffooney

Fickle and Flighty

Ah, here’s the rub…

If you cannot make up your mind…

You are often called foolish, but even more often fickle…

And nothing is as fickle as a racist dill pickle…

Because you will certainly find…

That pickles hate any color but green…

And are often quite racist and really quite mean…

And if you quite fear them…

For their green-leaning hatreds…

And dill-pickle plots to raise prejudiced retreads…

You will be called flighty…

With shoes that are mighty…

And with flighty bright faces that colored, are beet reds.

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Isn’t it amazing how terrible a poet Mickey truly is?

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Filed under foolishness, goofy thoughts, humor, Paffooney, poetry

I Can See!

The Glaucoma doctor measured my eyes for excessive pressure again today. Miraculously, the eye drops are working, each eye being more than 20 points less of pressure than the last time.

The big thing that the result means is NO SURGERY NEEDED. What a relief that is to know!

I am not saying you cannot know beauty if you cannot see. But to someone like me who has spent a lifetime as a graphic artist (a skill that you can debate if you like, having seen what my pencil-pushing fingers can do when the eyes lead them) blindness is a fear that causes numerous nightmares.

And I am not saying that blind people cannot be effective teachers, because I have known some truly inspiring teachers that were thusly challenged. But I am saying the ability to look into the eyes of someone who depends on you to teach them is a sight I would never willingly sacrifice, even to save my life. Life is given meaning by those priceless images and those lovely loving eyes.

So, I am grateful to still have my eyes and the prospect of keeping my sense of sight to the end of my days. It is important to look into the mirror, looking myself right in the eyes, and seeing both who I was and who I am likely to become.

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Filed under Avengers, insight, inspiration, Paffooney

Still on Hiatus… NOT Writer’s Block!

I apologize for not having a chapter of something ready to publish for the weekly novel-writing post. I am caught between projects by extra demands on my time. My number-two son is officially graduating from his basic training in the Air Force over the next three days.

The novella above is nearly finished and will be published in a week or two. So, I do not plan on sharing any more of it here on the blog.

This novella has grown long and deep and is not halfway done. Having already appeared on this blog spot, it will be too confusing to go back to it for just a short period of time. So, this is not an option either.

This novel is the one I have chosen to appear in this spot, hopefully next week. The problem is, although I have half of it written already, it is the latter half of the book. All the new parts will occupy the first half of the book, and none of those are in manuscript form at this point.

There are other possibilities as well. The sequel to Cissy Moonskipper’s Travels, Nebulons, is a possible book for this spot, though I have no cover for it yet. Kingdoms Under the Earth is in the same condition. But, hopefully, something by next week. I hate missing deadlines… though all writers eventually do.

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Filed under humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, science fiction

The Irony of Regular Blogging

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This is an old artwork I have never shared before, except when I originally shared this post in 2016 and again in 2018.  I can’t say it is my best work.  But there it is.

There are many things that I have noticed about being a blogger that are the opposite of what you might expect.  Let me list a few…

  • Listing stuff makes a daily post easier.
  • I have posted something on WordPress as a blogger every day for five hundred and eight straight days.  I will try to hit two years in a row without missing a day for the second time.
  • Writing every day makes the ideas flow more easily rather than running out of ideas.  The well refills faster than I can drink its waters constantly.
  • My most popular post is Be Naked More , which gets views practically every day, but including artistic nudes randomly in a post does not increase its views and popularity even when I put “naked” and “nude” in the tags.

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  • Reproducing artwork on a blog is difficult when you draw things too big for your little scanner/printer.  No matter how good the camera and how bright the lighting, white becomes gray, and the sparkle and luster of good colored pencil color is lost.
  • Good writing becomes more about writing less.  But it also has to be more carefully crafted.  The more I brew prose in my black cauldron of a blog, the more it seems to boil down to poetry.
  • Readers don’t seem to object to metaphors and purple paisley prose as much as editors and book reviewers do.
  • I like writing purple paisley prose (overly-complicated grammatical structures with alliteration, metaphor, and asides that interrupt the flow like this one… taken to the extreme for humorous effect).

  • Art pieces can be manipulated and re-used or re-combined to make something new out of something old.  Computers make art editing infinitely easier.
  • Most people don’t actually read your blog all the way through.  Some just like it for the pictures.  If you actually read this far, you can let me know with a smiley face in the comments.
  • There are many, many good writers on WordPress… as I am sure there are on other blog sites as well.  I despair of being able to find and read them all.  If you are reading this bullet point, you are probably one of the ones I have found and read and liked.  Blogging becomes a mirror that shows you your own self more naked than naked… not just what is under your clothes, but what you look like to yourself in your own head.  And the more you walk around WordPress naked like that, the more you want to show it all off.  (How’s that for an idea that will pull in the readers from the lonely parts of Siberia?) 🙂

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Filed under blog posting, foolishness, goofy thoughts, humor, insight, irony, Paffooney

Why Nudists are Necessary

I don’t expect you to accept my thesis whole-souled and become a nudist if you are a lifelong textile enthusiast. I understand the problem. The post-Victorian-era Christians, especially the fundamentalist extremists who think Adam and Eve’s nakedness is a sin after the fall from grace, work hard to put the fear of nakedness in everyone… from childhood onward.

But I have definitely learned in my older age that being nakedly open to new ideas is actually a good idea, not a sin. Human beings do not have to wear clothing to be mentally and physically healthy. And often, it is the very repressive nature of religion that causes the perversions and health problems that fire-and-brimstone preachers warn against.

The main stumbling block to a world where nudism and naturism are accepted as not only natural, but essential to a happy life, is the association nakedness automatically has with sexual activity. Pictures of naked people, especially naked and attractive people, are almost automatically considered porn. The average viewer of naturist and nudist materials assumes that the purpose of such material is to reach a sexual, and therefore evil, outcome. How nudist materials can actually affect the sex-lives of any but religiously repressed teenaged boys, I cannot effectively explain.

You may have noticed from being both a parent of your own children and a keen-eyed observer of other people’s children (only to prove you are a better parent than they are, of course) that it is harder to keep clothes on young children than it is to get them to take their clothing off. Kids enjoy swimming, playing, and running around in giggly circles completely naked. That urge to do such things that are inherently offensive to elderly church ladies has to be carefully trained out of them.

Being naked, though routinely trained out of us as a furless species, has provable health benefits. Vitamin D, acquired by spending time exposed to sunlight, is crucial to emotional health, and low quantities of vitamin D in the body result in a susceptability to severe and life-threatening depression. People are also attracted to other people with a healthy tan (not eaten up by skin cancer or constantly peeling from sunburn, but a healthy tan.) And I can testify from experience with nudism, if you are comfortable enough with the people around you to take off all your clothes in their presence, (family, doctors, other health professionals, and fellow nudists you both know and that show a reciprocal comfort with being nude in your presence,) there is a culture of trust, respect, and love around you.

And this portrait, recently done by me, of my young friend Naomi, demonstrates that there is no privacy issue from participating in nudism. This portrait of a young girl is not porn. She is not engaged in any sexual act. Her most private parts, though exposed, are not the focus of the portrait. She was using the pool when she saw me sketching things and offered to pose for me. I had her permission. I had her mother’s permission. And they both approved of the result, though Naomi thought I did not get the breasts right. I was given permission to share this picture, as long as I didn’t tell you the girl’s real name. It does not look enough like her so that her school friends will know that it is her if she doesn’t tell them. She is happy to now own the original, and there is really no way for you to track her down or accuse her of being an exhibitionist. There are many far more concerning pictures of girls her age on the internet and social media. It ends up simply being a work of art.

People need to see other people naked more. It gives you confidence that your naked body is no uglier than anybody else’s. It makes you feel like those naked people you are seeing are holding nothing back and are far more open and honest than the average politician. especially Senator Ted Cruz. (Special note to the world: I personally feel that Senator Ted Cruz is the one person on this Earth that you do NOT want to see naked. Not every nude body is a good thing.)

I myself regret that I waited so long to embrace nudism. I had chances as far back as age 28. But I had a traumatic experience, a childhood sexual assault, to overcome before I could ever have a positive body image. And now that I have come to a place of peace and self-acceptance, I can finally recapture some of that naked joy we all had once as a young child. Adam and Eve were supposed to be perfect in the eyes of God when they were comfortably naked in front of Him. It was only after the fall when they were wearing clothes that they were sinful.

So, now that I have not convinced you that you should become a nudist, I hope I have at least given you something to think about. And think about seriously. If you don’t believe the naked human form is a work of art, then I should warn you… don’t go into art museums and galleries.

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Filed under autobiography, battling depression, commentary, humor, nudes, Paffooney, philosophy

D&D Saturdays

In honor of all the years I spent playing dungeon master on Saturday afternoons, I am posting pictures to keep the posting of D&D stuff on Saturdays as a tradition.  I really am a bit too achy and ill to post any old orc and ogre stories today.

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Being Prosaic

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I admit it.  I am prosaic.  I think in sentences.  I speak in paragraphs.  I write in 5-paragraph essays.  I should stop with the repetition of forms and the parallel structures, because that could easily be seen as poetic and defeat my argument in this post.  I write prose.  Simple.  Direct.  Declarative.  But those last three are sentence fragments.  Does that fit the model of prose?  How about asking a question in the middle of a paragraph full of statements?  Is that all simple enough to be truly prosaic?

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Prose is focused on the everyday tasks of writing.  It seems like the world thinks that the mechanical delivery of information in words and sentences should be boring, should be functional, should be simple and easy to understand.

I don’t mean to be pulling your reader’s mind in two directions at once, however.  I need to stop confusing you with my onslaught of sentences full of contradictory and complex ideas.  I should be more clear, more direct, and more to the point.

So here is my thesis, finally clearly stated; The magic of writing prose, it turns out, makes you the opposite of prosaic.

20160705_214055Ah, irony again!  It ends up being anything but simple.  You can write in simple, adjective-and-adverb-free sentences as Hemingway did, and still manage to convey deeply complicated and thoughtful ideas.  One might even suggest that you can create poetic ideas in mere prose, dripping with layers of emotion, conflict, theme, and deeper implied meaning.  You can also write prose in the intensely descriptive and convoluted style of a Charles Dickens with many complex sentences and pages-long paragraphs of detail, using comic juxtapositions of things, artfully revealing character development, and idiosyncratic dialogue all for comedic effect.  Prose is a powerful and infinitely variable tool for creating meaning in words.  Even when it is in the form of Mickian purple paisley prose that employs extra-wiggly sentence structure, pretzel-twisted ideas, and hyperbolically big words.

Simply stated; I am a writer of prose.  I am too dumb about what makes something poetry to really write anything but prose.  But I do know how to make a word-pile like this one that might just accidentally make you think a little more deeply about your writing… that is, if you didn’t give up on reading this three paragraphs ago.  I find it useful to examine in writing how I go about writing and what I can do with it.  I try to push the boundaries in directions they haven’t been pushed before.  And hopefully, I learn something from every new essay I write.  What I learned here is that I am prosaic.  And that is not always a bad thing.

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