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Superior Women

You say I'm a bitch as if it were a BAD thing.

Art Thread
Posted:Jan 28, 2017 10:33 am
Last Updated:Jul 28, 2017 7:09 am
134974 Views
Pinning this to the top of my blog so we can have an ongoing thread about art.

No rules, per se –
I only ask that you read what is written before commenting. Try to use information such as the title or the artists name when responding (so if the thread gets busy, we will know what others are talking about).

It also will help if a WIP (work in progress) is posted.

If posting/sharing art – do not do more than one at a time so others can have a chance to comment/discuss before moving on to the next. (look at me – all positive it will be a busy thread…)

I might occasionally change this cover photo.
For now – my painting ‘Nevertheless’ 42x60” oil on panel
48 Comments
football season
Posted:Sep 17, 2017 7:36 am
Last Updated:Sep 19, 2017 2:08 am
4345 Views
I have no idea what he did to me.
It was one of those occasions when the pleasure was so good…you didn’t know what was going on.

He wanted to watch college football last night.
He spoke about it the day before. Mentioning he hasn’t seen a whole game through yet…because of things we have been doing. Stopping just short of saying ‘It’s Saturday night and I AM watching this.’
So, I gave him a look and said he could, but only if he gave me 2 orgasms first.

He came to me after my shower in the afternoon, said he wanted to tackle number 1.
Ok, give it to me, slut

I remember kissing and touching and laying on the bed. I remember his hands and mouth on me. After that, I’m not exactly sure what he was doing…some kind of fluttery teasing was going on. With fingers and lips…and, who the hell knows? Holy shit.

I was in a fog for quite awhile afterwards, but I do recall telling him that whatever that was he did….remember it.

I love weekends.
And maybe, just maybe…football season is not so bad.
8 Comments
Things I do before I have my coffee
Posted:Sep 14, 2017 9:22 pm
Last Updated:Sep 18, 2017 2:16 am
5880 Views
Walk into walls
Answer anything anyone says to me with: ‘what? WHAT?!’
Sit on the toilet with the lid down
Walk around the bed twice in confusion
Trip over the cat
Fall over trying to put on socks
Forget the coffee I just poured, having to leave my desk downstairs to go upstairs and get it

If there is a reason to be moving at any speed before I have had my coffee and the slave speaks to me and I reply with several ‘what’s’…he usually mumbles something about me having my coffee first…never mind.

Apparently, being un-caffeinated makes me deaf as well as clumsy.

So, why in the hell do people still try to talk to me?
My mother. I am referring to my mother.
I’m going to have to have a long mom-bitch-fest here soon.
Thank you in advance for the free therapy.

This photo was taken of our TV. We laughed at that and snapped a photo. Programming these days….it's gone downhill. But, what I really want to know if the program before that one….tighten your what…?
8 Comments
Irma, you bitch
Posted:Sep 13, 2017 6:20 am
Last Updated:Sep 21, 2017 3:24 pm
6729 Views

I really did not think Irma would get us.
But it did - knocked trees down...with live power lines on ground next to house.
It's been that way since Monday afternoon...and still no energy company.
I am hearing at the coffee shop (after the neighbor almost electrocuted himself to cut a tree so we could use the driveway) that we may not have power until Friday.
Of course, they haven't been here to see the FIVE trees that are down...so it could be longer.
I cant complain compared to others, of course.
But damn, this was a free week for painting the real stuff.
I have to throw out so much food today.

ah well....off to the gym to shower like a homeless person...lol
10 Comments
Fear of failure?
Posted:Sep 11, 2017 12:30 am
Last Updated:Sep 18, 2017 2:16 am
8086 Views
I’ve never known that.
Some of the things I have tried. Crazy.
I have plenty of fears, but failure is not one of them.
Not because I am confident of succeeding – but because who-the-hell-cares if I don’t?

Now, granted – it has led me into doing things I was not qualified for.
I suppose if I were a different person, I could be embarrassed by that.
But I’m not.
I know I am bolder perhaps than some, but I seriously do not get the worry of failure.
I suppose you have to have fucks to give for that to be an issue.
I can’t remember anything in all the stupid shit I’ve tried that worried me when it didn’t work out. Granted, it usually did work out, but when it did not…it was definite failures.

Things I failed at:

Secretary – I was 20 and newly married. I had just discovered that being married I could not qualify for student loans to continue my education. I was heartbroken, but also newly playing house, so I decided be play at an adult and get a ‘real’ job. It was a construction firm, pretty fancy offices for the area. I was so bad. I answered phones fine, but typing and spelling errors…holy shit was I bad. The owner was an asshole who yelled at everyone and called them names. The first time he did that to me, I went into his office and told him he was a bastard and I wouldn’t put up with it. I was playing at being an adult, after all…I didn’t care if I got fired. Strangely enough, he respected me for it and never yelled at me again. Not that I was there long – I finally had to give up because I just sucked so bad at it.

My first studio – I left that construction company to go manage another business he owned – a storage rental place that has a huge old garage attached where I taught art lessons (as renting storage units didn’t take much time – they paid me nothing so I could use the space for my art). It wasn’t bad, I suppose. I think I taught those kids something…but…I had been throwing speeding tickets out the window for years and it finally caught up with me…lost my license for awhile.

Speaking of losing my license – I didn’t know it the day it went into effect as I had recently changed my name and didn’t get my mail. The small town I was in had a meter maid who hated me as she had been crushing on the man I married. The cops in this town knew the husbands family as they had a restaurant, so they were apparently taking bets for a week as to who was going to get stuck stopping me. The meter maid decided to make a name for herself and arrest me. The family came out and yelled, causing a scene…making her call for back up. Ridiculous small-town shit. (side note – they did not arrest me). Despite the fact I was the loser not having a license – I went to court and won the charge of ‘knowing I was driving without a license’…and it humiliated the meter maid and I got high fives from some cops. That was small comfort for having to be driven around by my new mother-in-law for 6 months.

There was that time I wanted to buy my first computer, so I decided that same small town needed its own yellow pages as the real book covered too many small towns. I sold ads and created it and printed it. I made enough for my first computer…such an entrepreneur! The bad part was….my typos. Oh, and the fact that it was a crime to put these in mail boxes. I don’t think 1/3 got delivered as I promised. And that one car company that I put the wrong phone number in for? 30 years later, they are still waiting for the free ad I promised in the 2nd year’s issue.

There was the time I lied my way into a property management job (basically giving my ex-husbands resume as my own). That was not a fail though – I did a fine job. I just lied through my teeth to get it. I was desperate. I considered that one a success.

I was an experienced restaurant person – all positions from waitress to cook. But, the finer places had one thing I disliked and that was the big trays. I can carry 4 dinner plates up each arm with no trays. I think it was between child 1 and 2 when I needed to get some part-time work, so enter the fancy Italian place. My last day was the day I dumped and entire tray of Alf redo pasta onto one guys lap…fucking trays.

I exaggerated my way into the management of an Italian restaurant on the beach at a fancy resort in St Thomas, the US Virgin Islands. Not a fail …I did great. Just another example of me not giving a fuck if I needed/wanted something. Did not care if I failed – I wanted a shot at it and knew how to do it.

I blame this lack of apparent business morals early in my 20’s on being raised poor and needing to hustle.

Down in TX in my 20’s – I got offered to paint a mural (no, I had never done that before). They covered the huge ballroom walls with plastic sheets, then bed sheets and I painted every inch. In 3 days – for their Lion King themed New Year’s Eve party. Lions and tigers and giraffes, etc…I don’t know how I dared to take it, but I did. With no hesitation. I didn’t even think about what could have happened if I had not been able to finish it. And I successfully did it – they were thrilled, I made money (and was interviewed on tv). I couldn’t move my right arm for 2 weeks after, but I did it.

Best of all – divorcing my ex when the year before I had just pulled in just $12,000 with my art. That is it. There was no child support; we split everything, including debt. But, I did it. I had to make it work and I would have waited tables again if necessary. I would have gone hungry if needed. But I didn’t have to wait tables. The next year (of the divorce) I made $28,000. The year after it doubled. Then that amount tripled the year after that. I always felt if I got away from him that I could do it. And I did. I was scared of not being able to support my children, but I wasn’t fearful of failure. I had been scrapping it for so many years – it is success that threw me for a bit of a mental loop.

I still get a kick out of paying things like car insurance on time. I’ve been ‘successful’ now for over 10 or 11 years. I am ...bonafide and respectable.

But I remember. I remember thinking real hard for a new way to make some cash. I remember painting some copies of another artists work for a man on the down low…because my daughter needed dental surgery and we didn’t have the insurance. I didn’t know if I could make it look like the other persons style. I had to and so I did.

I remember once doing side work when I was managing the apartment complex. I had left the husband and was hiding with the 3 kids in Oregon – so doing background checks for this dude at night on the computer was a good side job. I figured he gave it to me just because he wanted to sleep with me. He had a car dealership and helped me out even more by letting me use one of his cars for a few weeks. I never did let him fuck me, but I did make myself go ice skating with him once.

All of these stories are so so long ago.
I was a different person.
I can not imagine now having to lie about business/work.
I treat my collectors well and do the best by them that I can at all times.
I can not imagine again not being able to pay my bills either.

But if it did happen again and I needed to scrap once more – no worries about failing.

Maybe that is the secret to not giving a fuck – desperation.
Or – I might have had the leanings of a con-woman in my early years.
Luckily, I had drive to make it as an artist – and the fact that I did not enjoy scrapping.
I have no regrets though.

Photo is from scrapping years. I bet I could have gotten the use of a car out of a few of you….
6 Comments
sleep rubbing
Posted:Sep 7, 2017 6:30 pm
Last Updated:Sep 17, 2017 11:59 am
9794 Views
He gives me backrubs in his sleep.
Good ones.
That last a long time.

It. Is. Awesome.

It keeps happening more often.
He has no memory of it.
It’s not just a quick rub either – it goes on and on.
I need to figure out how to make this happen every night.
I’m greedy like that.

Seriously, the best way to fall asleep ever.

It almost makes up for the fact that I have agreed to attend a few local high school football games with him (wifely duty….I am crushing this marriage thing).

Be safe, FL people!

Photo from Tumblr
7 Comments
Causing a fluster
Posted:Sep 5, 2017 8:04 pm
Last Updated:Sep 9, 2017 5:38 am
10928 Views
I was looking for him. After checking almost everywhere, I opened the garage door.
He was there on a workout bench…on his back.
He was lifting weights.

He glanced over his shoulder at me. I smiled at him.
I looked him up and down appreciatively and started walking towards him.
He made a noise, turned red in the face and started struggling with the weights.

I wander past him to stand at the end where his legs were.
He was looking at me, sweating, blushing, laughing a bit and struggling.
I inched closer, a bit between his legs and just looked down at him smiling.

Just looking at him like that had him so flustered.
Or maybe it was how vulnerable he was when I walked in on him.

I never laid a finger on him. I never said a word. I just looked down at him.

After 10 years…

Nice.
There is nothing like flustering a man.
mmMMmmmmhhhhmmmmm
That reaction. Damn. It is such a goddamn turn on.

photo from Tumblr
4 Comments
subversive mother
Posted:Sep 1, 2017 9:38 pm
Last Updated:Sep 11, 2017 2:43 am
12941 Views
This is a barely begun painting.
It will be called ‘Empty Nest’

It has a lot of symbolism, possibly the most I have ever crammed into a painting.

Three kids, 3 balloons. Two are closer together (like the age of mine). The two older ones are a year apart, then 4 years later is the youngest.
(Red happens to be my favorite color).
She is still holding the balloons - she has not let go.
There will be 3 birds flying away in the distance.
There might be an actual bird nest in the greenery (if I don’t think that is getting too heavy-handed).

There are so many emotions that happen when the kids leave home.
Loneliness, emptiness at times, worry, newly re-discovered freedom, etc.

I have a child who has sent me to the ground sobbing in heartbreak.
I have had a child that makes me sit and wonder…wtf…? And hold my head in misery over the choices being made. I have a child who has caused me such pride I feel like I should be walking with my nose right up in the air (that one also gives thoughtful gifts, represented by the flowers she is holding).

I imagine it could be read as the sadness of having an empty nest, then gradually getting up and learning to be all about yourself again. But, for me – it is more personal and specific in a way I will never explain in detail to them. Because it would be too honest in a way you are not with your children (besides, they are adults now and it is their lives, after all...when do you realize that? How long does it take?)

Because we are not supposed to have a favorite. We are not supposed to create a piece of art that hints at…disappointment & heartbreak.
So – it is not that.

It is about the emotions a mother goes through when her children leave home. Nothing more.
7 Comments
Elvis infected me
Posted:Aug 31, 2017 10:31 am
Last Updated:Sep 5, 2017 5:13 pm
14042 Views
I bought a t-shirt. It is white and has Elvis on it.

I was wearing it one afternoon a couple weeks ago when I wandered outside to see what the slave was up to. He was bagging up lawn clippings/small branches. I chatted with him for a few and pulled a few weeds myself while standing there. When he was done, we sat at the top of our driveway, the paved part; and just enjoyed looking at our yard. For maybe 20 minutes.

When I went inside, I changed to ratty painting clothes – but put the tshirt (which was not dirty) on a leather ottoman to wear the next day.

I wore it the next day.
The day after that – I woke up with what had to be a rash. It looked like I had measles all over my torso. They were not terribly itchy, but it brushing against one of the spots they itched a bit. They next day, they were redder and larger.

I grilled the slave and the mother about the laundry detergent. Did they use something different? Someone grab those awful dryer sheets that cause me to have a reaction to? Nope, nope.

I went in to get one of my allergy shots for the cat allergies and figured I would ask. They charged me $97 for my co-pay to look at my spots.
Which turned out to be chigger bites.
$97 to tell me I have bug bites.
No, I don't feel stupid, why do you ask?
Wtf is a chigger, I wondered.
They stick to your clothing. So I probably got a few on me when I was outside, then put the same damn shirt on the next day.

I blame Elvis.
It’s 2 weeks later and they are getting smaller, but I still look as if I am recovering from measles.

I am motherfucking delicious.
5 Comments
the chorus I hear......
Posted:Aug 29, 2017 10:58 am
Last Updated:Aug 31, 2017 7:15 pm
15755 Views
....when someone says 'thoughts & prayers!'

.
.
.
..
...

Glory Hallelujah
by Frank Turner

Brothers and sisters, have you heard the news?
The storm has lifted and there's nothing to lose,
So swap your confirmation for your dancing shoes,
Because there never was no God.

Step out of the darkness and onto the streets,
Forget about the fast, let's have a carnival feast,
Raise up your lowered head and hear the liberation beat,
Because there never was no God.

There is no God,
So clap your hands together,
There is no God,
No heaven and no hell.
But there is no God,
We're all in this together,
There is no God,
So ring that victory bell.

No cowering in the dark before these overbearing priests,
Not waiting until we die until we restitute the meek,
No blaming all our failings on imaginary beasts,
Because there never was no God.

No fighting over land your distant fathers told you of,
Not spilling blood for those who have never spread a drop of love,
No finger pointing justified by phantoms up above,
Because there never was no God.

There is no God,
So clap your hands together,
There is no God,
No heaven and no hell.
There is no God,
We're all in this together,
There is no God,
So ring that victory bell.

I know you're scared of dying man and I am too,
But just pretending it's not happening isn't gonna see us through,
If we accept that there's an end game and we haven't got much time,
Then in the here and now then we can try and do things right.
We'd be our own Salvation Army and together we'd believe
In all the wondrous things mere mortals can achieve


Well I've known beauty in the stillness of cathedrals in the day,
I've sung 'Glory Hallelujah' won't wash my sins away?
But now I'm singing my refrain and this is what I say,
I say there never was no God.

There is no God,
So clap your hands together,
There is no God,
No heaven and no hell.
But there is no God,
We're all in this together,
There is no God,
So ring that victory bell.


_____________________________________________

and now, I think I shall pray to the Goddess of Hitachi.
Because this is all there is, so...enjoy!
2 Comments

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