BOT BULLITS & CHATGPT


Photo by kat wilcox on Pexels.com

MISADVENTURES OF TODAYJob boards alerts for the JOB I am perfectly suited for, are in Tallahassee or Wichita and require AI experience, and about seven variables of programs written as unrecognizable anagrams. I am only in my fourth month of job searching digitally, days of in person interviews are akin to eight-hundred-page novels.

My resume is professionally edited, posted on all the legit job sites and about ten questionable ones. I write personal letters to the museums, galleries, foundations and event planning departments, no reply, or the feigned friendly formal answer, ‘Thank you for contacting us! We do appreciate your time. We’ve chosen another candidate.’ The algorithm cadets are pushing me in the slush pile. Can you blame me if at least one day a week I scream silently. The bot bounty hunters are shooting me. Set this aside and see my phone, the icons on the home page change weekly, by a phonebot, and google decided to sync five thousand laptop photos on my phone. Now when I have to scan for a return to Amazon because they sent me two fans instead of one, the scan is where?

On my knees praying this laptop continues to behave or I will scream outdoors and be reported within seconds by a resident because Solana Beach bodies seem to obey all the orders. I tend to test authority, like not renewing my driver’s license for two years, and lying to my Doctor about my state of mind, because he’ll advise therapy and I self-analyze myself about everything, so why hear it twice.

The new modest home serves me what I came him for, ocean breezes, quiet, and private, neighbors that seem to harmonize, we can just say hi, is ok. At the intersection where I live, athletic, toned, and tanned looking males and females run, jog, walk, bike the sidewalks and streets in identical outfits. Sort of like a stage play and it’s inspiring to see that health is the way to live, I just don’t remember that culture dominating when I lived here. What I don’t understand doesn’t bother me, it’s a curiously about moving back home and feeling misfitted. Those of you who know me, have heard me say this about every location I move.

The ocean breeze, fan blowing against the curtain panes, bougainvillea bushes that colorize my terrace, the phone calls from friends, and edits sent by my publisher tranquilize the BOTS AND BOOBOOS.

Misfitted and anxious for acknowledgement due to not having ten thousand followers or whatever is the number, an author’s marketing team (everything seems to be in teams) contacted me with an offer to represent my book, Cradle of Crime-A Daughters Tribute published in 2017. Here’s the first paragraph of the first email.

The idea at the heart of Cradle of Crime is one that I had never encountered framed quite this way before. A daughter’s journey into her father’s criminal past, beginning ten years after his death. Most memoirs about family secrets are written as reckonings, as confrontations with the truth, as attempts to understand how a parent’s hidden life shaped the child who was left behind. You wrote something different. You wrote a book that is not just about uncovering the past, it is about the impact of that uncovering on your own identity, about the humiliation, rage, shame, and acceptance that came with discovering that your father was Benjamin Bugsy Siegel’s best friend and business partner. And you built that entire idea around the truth that the secrets our parents keep are not just their own, they become ours, and that the work of understanding who we are often requires us to confront who they were, even when what we find is devastating. That reframe is everything.

Six emails later and digging through all the scam searches, I discovered BOT LITERARY HOAX. On my base she pitched me the marketing plan, without cost. Now I have a comprehensive skill set to use! Sample: Listopia, ARC team, enhanced keywords, categories, Amazon Ads, metadata overhaul, refresh, etc. I did not use any of these when I self-published. I thought about reporting them, No, they can hack me!   

This week, another author marketing team contacted me with a similar, your story resonates with multiple markets you haven’t accessed. So, I decided to ask ChatGPT to run a check. One minute didn’t pass before this was returned. The opening sentence was, Luellen, I wouldn’t advise this company for Gaslighting Greta! BOT brilliance, he remembered from a previous question.   

Absolutely. I can recreate the Michael Literary Team assessment we just did.

Michael Literary Team โ€” Red Flag Report

Website: Michael Literary Team

Overall assessment: HIGH CAUTION.

I would not send them money, your complete manuscript, financial information, passwords, or other sensitive material until the company is independently verified. I would not call it definitively a scam based solely on the evidence, but there are enough warning signs that I would not treat it as a conventional, established literary agency without further verification.

Major red flags we identified

  1. Multiple/near-duplicate domains
    • There appears to be both a correctly spelled Michael Literary Team site and a misspelled โ€œMichealโ€ version.
    • This is unusual and raises questions about the history and ownership of the operation.
  2. Changing personnel and biographies
    • Names and positions appearing on the sites have inconsistencies.
    • Some biographies have the feel of generalized/template-generated profiles rather than independently verifiable publishing-industry rรฉsumรฉs.
  3. Website/template errors
    • We found repeated spelling, wording, and structural errors.
    • There were also inconsistencies in company information.
  4. Incomplete Chicago address
    • The claimed Chicago presence did not provide the kind of easily verifiable business information you would expect from an established literary agency.
  5. Very broad range of services
    • The operation appears to offer an unusually wide combination of literary, publishing, marketing, cinematic, and related services.
    • That isn’t proof of wrongdoing, but it warrants scrutiny.
  6. Testimonials are difficult to independently verify
    • Testimonials on a company’s own website aren’t strong evidence of legitimacy unless the authors and their publishing histories can be independently confirmed.
  7. The Gavin Westbrook example
    • We found outside discussion concerning a $1,000 package and a relatively small independent social footprint.
    • This deserves additional verification before relying on the testimonial or client claims.
  8. Weak independent footprint
    • An established literary agency would normally leave a substantial trail outside its own websites: reputable publishing databases, established agents, publisher relationships, industry references, verifiable authors, rights sales, etc.

Part 2 โ€” Connection to Susan Literary Team

This was particularly interesting.

We found evidence suggesting a substantial connection between Michael Literary Team and Susan Literary Team, including:

  • Emmanuel Carter appearing in connection with both.
  • Susan Cinematic appearing on the older/misspelled Michael site.
  • Susan Cinematic being associated with the Susan organization.
  • Similar website structures, services, Chicago references, and wording.
  • The Susan domain appearing to have been registered on March 21, 2026.
  • Similar language concerning a โ€œbulk buyer strategy.โ€
  • Repeated copy/wording errors across the sites.

That does not, by itself, prove fraud. But the similarities make the relationship between these organizations an important issue to investigate.

Bottom line

My assessment was essentially:

HIGH CAUTION โ€” do not pay until independently verified.

The evidence is strong enough that I would not recommend treating Michael Literary Team as a verified, traditional literary agency at this point.

And importantly, the 75โ€“85% figure we discussed was a โ€œdo not pay until independently verifiedโ€ risk assessment, not a mathematical probability that the company is fraudulent.

I HOPE YOU FOUND THIS HUMAN TOUCH HELPFUL!

AI INTELLIGENCE OR IMAGINATION


AI INTELLIGENCE OR IMAGINATION

AI and OPEN SOURCING ALL WEEKEND ON THE NEWS. So, I asked AI to sketch a picture of me with an uploaded photo. This is more than shocking, it’s groundbreaking. I can be that woman on any platform. Obviously, I’m a late comer to the AI refinery.



CULTUREING & HISTORY


When and why does privacy replace honesty. Do we have more lies to hide? I find conversations starched, and drafty. When I go out to socialize, I’ll bring a book, one that speaks truth and stage it for attention.

My problems are cornflakes compared to what is in the news: racism, sexual allegations infiltrating the most unimaginable perpetrators, suicides, corruption, mass murder rampages and the politics are so degenerative I fear we have lost all civility. Our souls are at risk, and our consciousness is poisoned because the message is this: if you apologize, you can be exonerated. ย In a way, the news reminds me that I have very little problems in that zone, as Iโ€™m incapable of crime and racial prejudice. I am guilty of gullibility, raffish behavior and selfishness… that’s not the full list!

After checking emails, I searched for something, you know the feeling, one track goes in a dozen directions with popups, andI landed on this page. It’s Yellow Advertiser. Wrong name for Today in History, but I love this! Early morning history honking. ย ย ย 

Today in History https://www.yellowad.co.uk/it-happened-today

Today in Historyโ€ฆit happened on this day! Look back through our archive to find out what happened on this day or any other in history!

Newsย Today in Historyย 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ August 1

   YA Reporter  0 Comments August 1newsToday in history

10BC: Birth of Claudius. 30BC: Marc Antony (Marcus Antonius) commits suicide aged 53. 10BC: Birth of Emperor Claudius (Tberius Claudius Caesar AugustusRead more

1971: Astronaut James Irwin and the lunar rover

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 31

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 31newsToday in history

54BC: Aurelia Cotta, mother of Julius Caesar, dies at 66. 30BC: Marc Antony achieves a minor victory over Octavian atRead more

1909: Eugรจne Schueller (Mayns) CC_4.0

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 30

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 30newsToday in history

762: The city of Baghdad is founded by Abbasid caliph Al-Mansur, just north of ancient Baghdad. 1678: English troops landRead more

1972: Screaming Lord Sutch (Joe Mabel) CC_3.0

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 29

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 29newsToday in history

904: Thessalonica is sacked by Saracen pirates led by renegade Leo of Tripoli. 1221: Emperor Go-Horikawa, aged only 10 yearsRead more

1988: Paddy Ashdown (ยฉ European Communities, 2005)

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 28

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 28newsToday in history

1148: Crusaders abandon their siege of Damascus. 1540: Thomas Cromwell, chief minister for Henry VIII is executed for treason andRead more

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 27

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 27newsToday in history

1214: King John of England loses Normandy and his other possessions in France to Philip II of France (hence hisRead more

1957: Carlos Castillo Armas

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 26

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 26newsToday in history

1267: The Inquisition forms in Rome under Pope Clement IV. 1469: The forces of Richard Neville, 16th Earl of WarwickRead more

1943: Benito Mussolini

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 25

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 25newsToday in history

306: Constantine I is proclaimed Roman Emperor by his troops. 1261: Constantinople recaptured by Nicaean forces under Alexios Strategopoulos forRead more

1904: Henri Cornet

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 24

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 24newsToday in history

1148: Louis VII of France lays siege to Damascus during the Second Crusade. 1411: The Battle of Harlaw, one ofRead more

1955: Bluebird K7

News Today in History 

It happened today โ€“ this day in history โ€“ July 23

   YA Reporter  0 Comments July 23newsToday in history

636: Arabs gain control of most of Palestine from the Byzantine Empire. 1148: Crusaders attack Damascus. 1745: Charles Edward Stuart,Read more

SATURDAY EPIFHANY


I had it today, unlike other days that the truth is mettled or opaque or I am distracted. It reminds me of one of the wisdoms my father passed on to me: ” You can fool the whole world little sweetheart, but you can’t fool yourself.” I was a teen, when he passed on this mantra of living, now, today on a sunny Solana Beach go to the beach or racetrack day, I sit here and contemplate who I was fooling and why.

At some point in my thirties, I decided to outperform convention: marriage, children, my career, and lead without warnings, without proven methods, I thought experimentation was my path. I changed careers, moved to multiple locations, and threw the dice on finances. I can’t truly say no regrets, adventures in livingness brings growth, but the bank account needs growth too! My gang, assures me I’ll get back on the track, thank God for friends that believe in us, right! I don’t need five million followers, just my five fly over me forever friends.

On the track, earlier this week I had a conversation about the Del Mar Horseraces. The race track at Del Mar is on and my friend goes several days a week,

” Its really a lot of fun. Why don’t you come sometime and get away from editing?”

” I’ve told you, haven’t I? My dad gambled on everything: horses, sports, the academy awards, and at lunch, if the fly would go out the open window. If I win, I know, I’ll get addicted.”

” Oh, yes, I forgot you mentioned that.”

So, the dice throwing is in remission, going forward: manage impulse, unconventional living, be sensible, pragmatic and use proven methods.

Solana Beach masses are at the beach or the track, and I’m editing. ( deleted 25 pages today because people don’t read 400 page books) You know why I can do it? Because I spent my glorified years going to the beach, the track, partying, parading, and popping.

WRITER’S REALITY


JOURNAL SEPTEMBER 2022

I was walking the streets, and the descriptive details had since evaporated. I mentally pluck myself out of this moment and open the shades to thought and memory, where all writers meet on some psychic level, the place of imagination and creation, an abnormality of reality.

A passage from Anais Nin’s diary says, โ€œBe careful not to enter the world with any need to seduce, charm, conquer what you do not want, only for the sake of approval. This is what causes the frozen moment before people and cuts all naturalness and trust. The real wonders of life lie in the depths. Exploring the depths for truth is the real wonder which the child and the artist know: magic and power lie in truth.โ€

FRIENDSHIP DANCES OVER POLITICS


FROM ZORBA THE GREEK – A TALE OF FRIENDSHIP

Friends are bookends that bind our stories; some are novellas, some are poems, some are cinematic, and each friend serves as a bookend to our personal history.  When Iโ€™ve lost my way and need direction my friends motorize me, and when I fly without wings, they ring the bell to come down to earth. At times, arguments arise and my friendships stray, but true-life friends never leave you behind. Sometimes, years may pass, and then one day you receive a call or an email, or send one yourself, and the memory of that particular squabble in history fades away. You can start anew; at the same time, it is not.

The essence of friendship never burns out; it is our galaxy, a kind of celestial agility. Are you experiencing a startling outpouring from friends whoโ€™ve left your life only to suddenly show up on your social media or a personal email? Are your friends calling and writing more often?ย  I’m always examining some unfamiliar events in life, a new trend, a cultural change.ย  Seems like every topic can be mixed with politics, sometimes the mixture is explosive. Iโ€™ve halted the political discussions, and so have my friends, as they are more important to my livingness than politics. With one exception, antisemitism, those are excluded!

TRADITIONAL AND NON-TRADITIONAL


 FREINDS, FAMILY AND FIREWORKS, Not me.  Leave out the friends and family. But not the fireworks. I havenโ€™t been here long enough to make new friends, and the ones I would call are out of town or playing homebase to avoid the traffic. The first day free of mind bending, sneezing, coughing and body thrashing over the last two weeks with bronchitis subsided. I even mentioned to a friend. โ€˜the best thing about suffering is when it ends.โ€™   The last time I had the flu was 2011.  

New York.  I couldnโ€™t abate watching the fleet parade along the Hudson or the fly overs above the Statue  of Liberty, or pay very close attention to the historical narrative on the sacrifices our founders lived and died for, so we can celebrate today and tomorrow. What a juxtaposition between the insignificance of being sick and taking a bullet. The day of history and visuals had me looking up every founder, and significant document, dates, places and rendering the Saratoga Battlefield visit with Jx years ago

 “Site of the historic 1777 Battles of Saratoga, which represented the first significant victory for the rebels in the American Revolution. Today, the 3,200-acre park is a popular tourism and recreation site and a wildlife conservation area.”

I took myself out to dinner across the street at the Brigantine, folded into a room filled with chatting staff, guestโ€™s conversation, and a panoramic view of the fairgrounds and Del Mar mountain tops.  I sat in the center, unusual for me I usually cling to a wall, but this restaurant has become a sanctuary for socializing, or just being solo, either way Iโ€™ve never left disappointed.

โ€œ You dropped this outside the bathroom,โ€ a young shaggy blonde hair boy of twelve or thirteen handed it to me.

โ€œOh! Thank you so much, that is very thoughtful.โ€™โ€™  He shied, dropped his head in that way that makes adults wonder why we  became so different, and left.

Then later on, as I was outside on the terrace enjoying the view of the fair, I noticed him and a woman next to me.  We started to talk, I think she liked my necklace or my pants or something and I saw the little boy and I said is that your son? She said yes and I told her the story. She introduced me to her husband, the uncle, the children, the other children’s parents. And when she left, she hugged me. That kind of intervention makes the difference for a single person.

EVENING.  After watching the DC extravaganza, I walked outdoors, to  the corner, the street was back to back traffic, helicopters, neighborsโ€™ standing on sidewalks and on our property, and I looked up at the start of a Del Mar Fairgrounds fireworks show that  stopped me short.

MEMORY LOSS IN POSSESSIONS


My possessions in Saratoga Springs now appear as decorations ย ย from a former celebration, like side dishes of over 20 years of mixing and matching prints, drapes, sofas, chairs, tables, vases, and artwork. Now they’ve been removed from my experimental minimalistic living.ย A former lifecycle that began twenty-five years ago, and are boxed up in a big POD storage. And I refuse to meet them in the present. Friends ask me, โ€˜when are you bringing your furniture here?’ I canโ€™t answer in words, it must crystallize like it has this past week, when I missed my wardrobe and art hangings. Within the admired art, clothes, and sixty-two boxes, (I looked at my inventory) are a haunting of memories tied in see thru knots of Dodger, my x. As a confirmed refuser of goodbyes, in any relationship, this one has to be nurtured with precision, and that means, no reminders.

The stark white walls and Amazon assembled furnishing are stationed without emotion, memory or love. Functional, practical and unfamiliar.ย  Ive created a new palette, like my first studio in Los Angeles in 1976. Then the others, studios over the years, small, compact, easy to maneuver and clean. Internally, the walls and shelves are cluttered with decisions. The edits on my book from the publisher, when will I find employment? How to engage in new friendships, clubs, gyms, meetups. ย 

Singleness in a city, that was once my home for twenty years, evolved through generations, adding new policies, laws, regulations, real estate development, customs, and an impressionable celebration of the arts and culture. It has no resemblance to the San Diego I met in 1983, except for the ocean and the bordering cliffs and seawalls. That is where a continuous rolling of memory waves sear my view, and I see my youthful delight in San Diego. Iโ€™ve always been impressed with people who truly live in the present, canโ€™t figure that one out, maybe Iโ€™m just a past time girl.

SOLANA BEACHM 2005

THE MYSTERY OF HOME


Every morning I rise at dawn to sit in the parlor. Here I watch the sunlight illuminate the, โ€œCat on a Hot Tin Roofโ€ movie board in the hearth, and drink a cup of coffee in silence. I feel at home. These are the most precious moments of the day, the moment of peace before throwing the dice.

I can see out the window to the street, and this morning a handful of eggplant leaves on the tree next door have been autumnized to a transparent sheen of bronzed gold. The silence following summer has descended down over the rooftops of the people that live on East High Avenue. The sky is seared with streaks of white, and bubblegum pink clouds drift just above the rising of the sun. The moment is a peaceful stroke to a summer that has been indeterminate, chancy and without design. We came here with the intention to sell the house, and we leave without any such idea.

In the moments SC awakes, I hear his footsteps on the creaking wood floor. I close the journal and go in the kitchen to make buttermilk pancakes. When we are in Solana Beach, we eat bran muffins, usually in short order, between telephone calls, and conversations about things that it is too early to discuss. These mornings he lingers on the porch and reads the paper, because he has the time. If my body is willing, I will run down to the stream by Kelly Park, and look for the blue heron. Along the way, I pass by the quiet man with the three beagles, and a mother walking with her children to the bus stop. I will pass the funeral parlor and look the other way, and when I see the Federal Express Truck, he will wave because he knows I am the woman that receives mail addressed to Soaring Crow.

The front porches I pass are the opening pages to the home stories of people inside. If there are children, the remains of their toys will be scattered about. If they are elderly, they will leave their gardening shoes by the back door, and if they are a young couple, they will be in the midst of home repairs, a roof that needs fixing or a new coat of paint. I have observed just one campaign poster board in the neighborhood. It seems to have gone out of style to post your politics on your car or in front of your house. In the front yard of one home, a banner is pitched in the ground that reads, โ€œRemember our Troops.โ€ I have not asked, but it is probable they have a son serving in Iraq. The hanging flower planters have been replaced with mums and corn stalks. Some scatter straw on the lawn. I used to giggle at this September tradition, now I am almost giddy about arranging my seasonal display in the yard.

The run back through town takes me by the high school, a brawny brick building that looks like the setting for a chapter from โ€œCatcher in the Rye.โ€ A teacher passes by, dressed in a conservative suit and pumps, and smiles. She looks wholesome as apple pie, and I wonder if I ever looked like that. On chilly mornings, the fireplaces may be smoking, a scent as perfect as my favorite perfume. Our own fireplace is inoperable until we reline the chimney, which explains why the movie poster is in the fireplace.

By 8:00 a.m. the yellow school buses are chugging up the street and the children, gathered at our corner; bob up and down in innocent bursts of energy celebrating the beginning of a new day. I arrive home about this time, and stop to watch the quaintness of the moment. The habitat of these surroundings strips me bare of my Hollywood entertainment, Southern California roots. I am nourished by quaint tradition and scenery, and that is one answer to this mystery I call home.

I eat cider donuts when I want and instead of working out three or four times a week, I take long walks, past the Sunny Side farms to see the young foals and mothers in the corral. I dress in style-less shoes and pants, whenever I feel like it, without fashion consciousness. I do not watch the television and prefer to go to bed early and read Carson McCullers novels. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I can sit on the porch and look at the hands of a storm forming in the sky.

People come to my house without notice, and sometimes just walk in and yell my name. My favorite Broadway hangout knows who I am, what kind of wine I like and that we like to sit on the patio. Sometimes I meet strangers who have heard of the Follies House, and I feel a twinge of acknowledgment.

It does not matter what everyone else calls home, it is simply the feeling of peace, security, and acceptance. That is how you know you are home.

WRITTEN JULY 2010.

LIVING AS A LONER.MINIMAL MAYHEM LIFESTYLE-OCEAN, SKY, SUNLIGHT WONDER.


FEEL, THINK, AND REACT. Tumbling through all the transitory advice forces me to examine more closely whom to believe.  Iโ€™ve never been a leader, nor a follower, I walk in between, trying to pave a pathway to peace of mind. Maybe that is unattainable as I  am in a cultural, political, medical, financial, and socially reimagined world. It reminds me of being a teenager when life was questionable, and confusion was like a stinging bee we couldnโ€™t swap away. So, in my senior year in high school I started writing in a notepad. Gradually, almost supernaturally I withdrew from my gang, and spent the weekends in a Cafe with adults, or in the library. The loner label pleated my pants.

Loners were portrayed in film, books, and art as mysterious, untouchable icons. They even became romanticized as people of superior cerebral awareness. Iโ€™ve met and gained friendships with several over the last few decades. It may be that loners have thin skin, they absorb the ethereal and reality, so in many situations the absorption is too weighty and the loner cuts loose before the party is over, cancels at the last minute, and doesn’t answer the phone. Talking, engaging, evaporating into another person feels herculean for me sometimes.

Does isolation relate to the intensification of rancorous physical assaults in streets and shops, which is my pestering pursuit today. Are all these perpetrators unloving, and live amongst the unloved? People are shot because their hamburger wasnโ€™t properly served on time, or they have a different opinion. I was living in Los Angeles in 2018, and one day driving down Pico Blvd I noticed a sign, โ€œWalk in Anger Management.โ€ Maybe we need to convert a few drive-thru food diners to Anger Management centers. It sounds amusing. If I was financially able, Iโ€™d open one in every major city.

      WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THIS CULTURE is unimaginable for a woman who grew up in the Love and Peace generation, or even into the eighties and nineties. We didnโ€™t shoot one another, maybe a fist fight, or a shouting match, but not murder in cold blood. Could this macabre movement be abated by friends who love you more when you are gentle and kind? It cannot be that simple, or could it? When I used to rage about some occurrence that tattered me personally, Dodger would come to me and say,

โ€˜Greta put your guns down,โ€™ that always made me laugh, and then weโ€™d talk out what triggered my fury.    

    THE COMFORT OF EXHIBITING life on paper. It is not the act of writing with pen and paper moving along at a steady rhythm; itโ€™s the activation of the heart and mind, collaborating to unravel the relevant from the irrelevant. To reach this state of matrimony, a writer doesn’t need a Tuscan Villa or an English Castle, but experiences that flake off the skin and shake out relevance. What Iโ€™ve rediscovered is that without a lot of stuff to organize, the mind is free to think, more time to create and effect essential decisions.  Narcissism is sacrificed and replaced with more visceral makeup. Minimalist living has erased my past, and that is as transforming as day to night.

PUZZLE OF SOLITUDE  will always be a puzzle because our lives, solo or mated, are puzzled by too much solitude, or not enough.   There is an inner exploration happening, unfolding like spreading new sheets on my bed, that solitude has befriended me all my life, in the best of times and the tedious. I have to find the frolic and follies in the world that I created. I have to laugh alone, so I watch screwball comedies, seek humor in my irregularities; wearing a sweater inside out, pouring coffee into a wine glass for a cocktail, and chuckling when I keep forgetting where I left my phone. Laughing at myself is a funnel that leads to writing.

รธ;

MINIMAL MAYHEM LIFESTYLE PART TWO-


The first gallery opening I attended. Smashing art by Hunt Slonem, photography by Tim Hardy. Conversation, champagne, and what we all need, social engagement. Unlike a concert, or theater performance where you are seated next to someone you know, art galleries are a sensory of interaction with the artwork, the guests, and the elan of the space. Madison gallery was a warehouse, exposed twenty-foot ceilings, enormity of space, and minimalism in furnishings. It feels like an indoor park.

Once a gallery lover, then a gallery owner, and now seeking a job in a gallery. I joined the mailing list of a dozen galleries, realizing resumes are sifted through by AI and not the owner.

My love of photography began at a museum observing the work of Edward Weston. I used this line when selling my photography in Santa Fe” Photography are stories on the wall., not just the photo, the photographer. Of course you can say the same about a painter, but for me, catching a moment in time, that will never be repeated is poetic.

One guest that visited my gallery said this to me, ” Photography isn’t art.” He was famous, not as an artist but the son of John Huston. I cannot recall his explanation, but I have heard this statement several times and that is why there are so few photography galleries. I’d open one again when the if’s are removed.

One of my favorites by Jim Marshall. Jim caught Bob in a private moment, and let him publish it. An early concert, 1963, with already famous Joan Baez. Fuzziness is my fault.

THE LISTS OF LIFE


WHAT ARE THESE LISTS...ย  the long list is the list you started as a youth, without even knowing you were making plans for your future. This is the list that does not have to be in writing, keyed in on a phone, Outlook, or posted on the calendar.

The long list is about cutting out, shocking the system, and coming back unharmed. It is an exceptional sensation of adventure we visualize while waiting for a flight at the airport, for the neighbor to turn off the leaf blower, for the light to turn green.

All of the things we monitor in our lives, like the need to have a cavity filled or checking the coolant level, are multiplying, and that short list is so long we rarely have time to consider the long list.ย  None of those items will make any difference in ten years, not one.

The short list is a big obstacle in the way of the long list. By the time we get to the long list, we may be crippled by fear, turned into a sofa shouting grumpy cynic or, worse than all the above, we may have forgotten what we wanted.

Waiting too long to start an adventure on the long list is staring me in the face. Then I realize, I’m in it!ย ย 

โ† Back

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