The Art of Randomness

All the Way Home2I had some technical issues making this image, so I had to make extreme modifications. I hope you can appreciate that but if you don’t, there’s not a whole lot I can do about it.

You see, I worked on this visual a few days ago and my frustration with it prompted me to clean my room. It’s so immaculate, you can eat off the dresser and you’d probably enjoy ’cause it’s rather pretty. Speaking of rooms, if you recall, and you probably don’t if you don’t think about me that way, which is fine, but I said I was decorating this year. If I tell you all I bought was a valance to hang in the kitchen window for all my grand notions of decorating, I’d be ashamed…Folks, I’m ashamed. I have multiple excuses to offer but I won’t give any. To be real honest, I don’t even feel like talking about it but I felt obligated on some level since going with this visual.

Being as such, I owe you an apology for talking about nothing strongly related to world affairs, the health crisis or how hard Sherry Shephard’s trying to sell her wig line on The View. If you’re like me, I do like some level of consistency and I’m rightly bothered that Friday brings day 4 of a wig change-up on her head this week. I don’t know about you but there are times when I do sweat the small stuff, even if it has absolutely nothing to do with me. I know I’m not alone in my grievances ’cause if I was, we wouldn’t have as many talk shows as we do.

Far as I’m concerned, there was no better talk show that aired than Phil Donahue. Maybe there’s something about me and Phils. I do like Dr. Oz too and used to watch him faithfully but he started giving me anxiety. You see, I get excited calmly, if that makes any sense, and I couldn’t take all his hyperactivity. I know he’s passionate and all but damn. I don’t wear anxiety well at all but I don’t wanna talk about that either ’cause it may excite me and I don’t feel much like being that either.

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Blog in Review

Good Saturday, folks. I’m still singing the Zippety Do-Dah  song and I hope you find your beat today. I, folks, am coming up on 3 years of blogging. Now, I don’t typically make a big to-do about it. It’s not like I’m getting paid to do this. You know, it’s just a little playground to talk sense and nonsense. Know what I’m saying?

I was looking over some work I’ve done over my time of blogging and I’ve had a good time with you, folks. Y’all alright by me. Now, I don’t know what folk would say who know you best but I can’t complain. You feel me? I know you do…[Aheeemm, cough, cough…Hand me over that glass of water, will you?] …Y’all a trip, okay?

Anyhow, this has been the best playground I’ve ever played on and I want to share some images I’ve done, that I’ll credit you with helping me create. I say that ’cause I’ve learned from your blogs and while you may like my work, you’re just as creative as I am. Your writing is a visual for me and I have to thank you ’cause that’s the kinda learner I am. With that, you help me to imagine. [Pause. Getting teary-eyed as you clap for me.] Thank you, folks. [Exiting stage with a 3-year blog award in my hand. Trip over gown just before the curtain closes. The award breaks. The audience laughs. LOUD.]

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A Diamond in the Blogging Rough

Beatrice. Copyright 2014 Totsymae

Beatrice. Copyright 2014 Totsymae

Dear beloveds, I’m slowly and most surely, building my reputation of being the juicy girl with the juice. Keep hanging with The Bea and thou shalt never thirst for gossip. Drink from my cup and be quenched, okay? Snap, snap, split. OUCH!

I, people, am so fabulous, I’m going to be a contributing writer for  The Single Sexy Mommy. While I’m not a Mommy, I am sexy but I don’t have to tell you twice. You’ve seen the pictures, people. Need I post more photos to jog the fog of your memory? I didn’t think so. Plus, I don’t want a traffic jam to crash Totsy’s little site. 

Yes, people, a star has been born. My mouth will perhaps be worn from digging and scooping the dirt. You feel me? I shall probably die wrapped in tabloids, okay?  Snip, sew, snap, baby. Just keep me beautiful. Naturally, I shall keep you in the know. At present, I’m sending OWN an audition tape for my own reality show on men over 4o who wear jerseys and sagging pants. It’s going to be called What’s Up With That? Hey, if hoarders can get on TV with all that trash, certainly I can be a commentator for a topic as this.

In the meantime, toodles  to your noodles and blessed is the wretched. Just thought I’d throw that in since I went to church today via satellite TV, okay? Wide brimmed hat and all, I did that without the gas company ripping me off. The Bea is all about saving a dollar but you shall never holler at me from aisle three of a thrift store, okay?

So people, be sweet while I hit the street to bring you more of the latest.

 

 

Fabulously & Fantastically Yours,

Beatrice from Apartment 7B

 

 

 

 

 

Be Inspired

"The Ensemble" Color Pencil, Sharpie and Bic Pen on Paper Copyright 2014 Totsymae

“The Ensemble” Color Pencil, Sharpie and Bic Pen on Paper Copyright 2014 Totsymae

I’ve accomplished a lotta resolutions already. While I made them about five years ago, they’re still accomplishments worth noting. It also means that I didn’t forget I owed myself and says something about my stick-to-it-ness. I’m like that little ole ant determined to move the rubber tree plant or The Little Engine That Could. That being said, I’m thinking of writing a book of affirmations. I just love being inspired, no matter that I forget what I’m inspired to do.

Anyway, I feel very qualified to author in this genre on account of being like most folk in the world. I like giving advice I fall short on abiding by myself. Not that my readers would know this. Unless they read this blog. And they should, if they wanna know what inspired me to write such a book, being that it’s coming from an honest place…Not that I remember why I wanna write the book…Hmmm…Oh yeah, I’m that little ole ant.

Anyhow, again. I could say things like ‘Set your clock early.’ From there, I could tell them to hit snooze only once, which I honestly never do since I’m a morning person. I’d then go on to tell folk to roll outta that bed and brush them teeth before they set the world afire. In a bad way. I’d  tell them to put one leg in their pants at a time. It’s tough for some folk to get up and running, or walking, for that matter.  On the other hand, who knows? Some folk may have an ingenious way of putting their pants on, with all the developments in technology and what have you. Maybe their cell phone puts them on with the touch of a button.  Heck, folk are getting lazier by the minute and controlled by all manner of gadgets these days, you know.

I don’t think I’d like to have my phone in that much control. Like, helping to dress and undress me. What if it’s lost, which has no code, and somebody finds it? That person may get to pressing buttons if I’m hanging out in the mall or by some miracle, I could be in church. Can you imagine? Being that it’s such a smart phone, it can’t be reported lost if found. What if I somehow made it home, thinking that’s where I lost it and it’s not there. I’d be bound to the house. Worst yet, say after being bound for so long, I go borrow a cuppa sugar from my single male neighbor on the right side of me, whom I never visit. It would be my luck for somebody to press a button just as he opens the door.  Maybe this very blog post could inspire somebody to invent such a thing. Though, I certainly hope it wouldn’t be at my expense.

Blunt Tales from the South (No. 1): Love, Marriage and Contemplating Murder

"Mama's Weary" Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2013 Totsymae

“Mama’s Weary” Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2013 Totsymae

Myrna’s heels were worn down from walking in her own kitchen, feeding her husband who’d grown old and solid in weight. Day in and day out, she whipped up meals according to his taste buds but she often had a mind to poison him. While he sat and seemed helpless enough sitting on two bone-rotted hips, he talked too much. Sometimes, he’d ring a bell to be served a glass of water or holler out some command while she was watching her soap operas. Myrna simply loathed the idea of a broken down man issuing commands to her. If she could just kill him and get away with it, she would’ve taken them both out of misery.

“Shut up, you old buzzard!” Myrna had jumped off her warm seat on the couch, missing a cliffhanger to fetch Paul’s spoon off the floor he’d dropped. “I’ll burn up this house and leave you here if you don’t stop messing with me.” Her lips were tight and hearing her deepened voice, Paul’s eyes bucked.

He looked to be marinating a thought. “No, you won’t, you ole crusty woman.” He then worked up a wad of spit and blinded Myrna’s right eye.

“Uggghhh!” Myrna balled her fists and threw Paul an uppercut, sending his bottom gums bumping with the top, as his teeth were soaking in a glass in the kitchen window.

She then stared at the sagging old man Paul had turned into. Couldn’t believe she’d fallen in love with him twenty years ago. Had she envisioned the scene she was in with him now, she’d have stayed single and whorish. And just that quickly, she began missing those Friday nights at Foxy’s Club, eating smoked ribs and collards in a haze of tobacco-stained teeth men who only desired a soft round bottom against their palms at the end of the night with no strings. What was in her mind that made her give away that kind of freedom? What lines had this drooping buzzard laid on her ears all those years ago to ultimately bring her life to this?

The Creative Life…Excuses, Excuses…

"Kim Kardashian"  / Digital Art

“Kim Kardashian” / Digital Art

Good girls don’t get the attention, so a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Don’t be mad at them ’cause they’ve got everything they want and not afraid to go after more of it. Like politicians, the public puts these folk where they are. They are the stuff that Hollywood’s made of now. Get used to it ’cause it’s not going away. It does, however, make it more challenging for plain ole folk, like you and me.

You know, we work hard in life and on these blogs and whatnot. You (not me) would snip your ear to get your creative endeavors noticed so you could give up that job and pursue it full-time but you just can’t bear the thought of any likenesses to someone who cut their entire ear off (Vincent Van Gogh). Some folk will do anything but you just haven’t thought of it ’cause you’re too busy being normal. Plus, you’re not willing to sell whatever’s left of your soul after a hard day’s work. It’s too exhausting. Besides, the house has to be cleaned. Your husband’s laid off and playing video games now, so you’re financially strapped. The woman across the street’s got Lawn of the Year and you’ve gotta outdo her. The dog needs to be walked, taken for a poop and he takes so darn long.  You’re depressed and had to get yourself some retail therapy with your girls. It’s just soooo busy…I absolutely feel you on some it…Well actually, none of the above but you know where I’m going with this, so don’t act.

"Nicki Minaj" / Digital Art

“Nicki Minaj” / Digital Art

I’m writing to you today, folks, to give myself a swift kick in my own tail and if you can identify, you should do the same. Not mine but yours. While I’ve been painting I’m not writing as much as I’d like.

So, what steps have I taken to make space for living a creative life? I cleaned my studio. I’m like a deer in the headlights now. I have a coupla projects to work on though. I think I’m gonna buy that paint you can turn into a chalkboard and write what I need to do so I can see it. I have figured out that I’m painting during the week and writing weekends. But what I’m doing is neither here or there. What’s your plan?

"Miley Cyrus" / Digital Art

“Miley Cyrus” / Digital Art