Art is Life is Art: Susan Reep Photo Art

It feels like it has been so long since I’ve been connected to a routine, to my home, to myself, that I barely know how to begin.   So the title of this post doesn’t refer to the state of my marriage, which is doing just fine after 41 years, but to the state of my union to myself.

I’ll start with a deep breath.  And a pretty view.  I looked out the window at just the right moment last week and caught some beautiful late afternoon light.

I think February is the very best month in Bakersfield.

So – my last post was on a home devolving back to a house as my parents lose their grip on reality and day-to-day functioning.  That post was like projectile vomiting – it spewed out.  This one is harder, not just because I don’t have an emotional bombshell sitting on my chest right now,  but because it has to do with putting myself together.  Sort of vague – how to put oneself together when you haven’t come apart.

I had a full calender over the last two weeks.  Lots of lunches, evening commitments, and then with my sister visiting, lots of daytime lunches and visits at my parent’s house.  All the activity reinforced something I know but sometimes ignore.  Sixty-three isn’t fifty-three; it isn’t even sixty or sixty-two.  Every year my tolerance for being on the go declines just a little. I have to pace my activity.  I can only handle so much.

All tuckered out

Let’s just take this week, starting with Sunday: we had a lovely Valentine’s lunch at a great restaurant in town, appropriately named Valentien.  (The link gives you the menu which says Saturday but it was the same lunch on Sunday.) Then we had dinner at The Orchid (Thai fusion)  that same evening with my two sisters and brother just to make sure we are all on the same page regarding my parents.  My husband is restoring a Model A Ford that’s been in his family for ages, so he joined the Model A Club.  Monday night was their monthly dinner outing, this time at Moo Creamery, and I had to be social and interested in dozens of people who come together because of a common interest in cars.  Which I have no interest in whatsoever. But if my husband wants to do this activity, be in this club, I’m doing it with him.  He does an awful lot for/with me that he doesn’t want to.  He demands very little, is very low-maintenance, and I’m thrilled when he’s interested in something.

Tuesday I spent time at my parent’s house, (my father is definitely extra-high maintenance as you might expect from a nationally-known artist), went to lunch with my sisters, Target and Ross, and then went to Fat Tuesday at a local club called Fish Lips.  I didn’t really want to go but BECA (Bakersfield Emerging Contemporary Artists) was doing face painting to raise money, and I volunteered to help.  I have to contribute somehow to these organizations I benefit from.

So I put on my festive purple hat and went out after dark.

Corky Blaine was there also, painting away, and the belly dancer is Nyoka, our BECA leader. (I want to call her the Goddess, she’s such an amazing person.)

Ok, that was Tuesday.  Already I was zonked.  But we had Wednesday, and I had a coffee meeting with John Harte, a free-lance photographer whom the newspaper had hired to take photos of my Altered Landscapes show last October, and he was giving me a disc with the photos.

This photo is from the show at Metro Galleries and it’s me, my husband, and my parents.  My parents look so fine – you would never know from a first meeting that my mom has Alzheimers and is forgetting who some of the great grandchildren are and that my dad sleeps most of the day.

I was going to go to the Random Writer’s Workshop Wednesday evening, but my sisters and I took my parents out to dinner instead.  We went to California Pizza Kitchen, which my dad forgets that he hates – so it’s his new favorite restaurant.  My mom was looking at the wonderful photos on the dessert menu and she said she wanted one.  Which one, Mom? No, not a dessert, she wants to take the menu home so she can keep reading about the desserts.  It’s a good thing my natural propensity is towards laughter instead of frustration!

Thursday morning started with Starbucks – I was having coffee with Chris McKee, the mother of my former student who died a couple of weeks ago.  When I had asked, during the week of the funeral and preparation, what I could do, she said I could have coffee with her in the coming weeks, when all the relatives had left, and there she and her husband would be to face the emptiness.  That was an easy request since I’ve always liked Chris, a fellow artist.  We’re going to make coffee a weekly event, which will be good for both of us.

Zonked for sure

And then I was zonked for sure.  Picked up my granddaughter from school, came home, and called it a day.  I was supposed to go to a mini-reunion of the Vaudeville Express Melodrama, a local theater I used to be involved with, but I just had reached my limit.  So I stayed home and worked on the photo-sorting project.

Today, Friday, I had lunch at Enso with Wendy Wayne, my dear friend who had the stem-cell replacement last year for non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, and my oldest daughter joined us.

This photo is from the October opening of my show at Metro Galleries.  That’s Wendy in the middle.  She’s getting her hair back.  On the left is her husband Gene Tackett, and on the right John Hefner, my former principal at Fruitvale Jr. High.  We both retired the same year.

I’ll allow that trying to keep up with the Olympics, not to mention American Idol and Survivor, robbed me of what little free time I had, but a person has to have priorities.  And if you DVR the Olympics, it’s possible to zoom through them pretty fast.  I mean no disrespect to any of the sports or athletes, but how many people can you really watch leaving the starting point of the Nordic Combined?  And a couple of minutes of Curling seems adequate.

Friday

So it’s Friday evening and I am HOME and glad to be here.  The state of my union will solidify with some quiet time at home.  I have nothing on my schedule for the weekend, although that has a way of changing.  The parent situation is always a bomb waiting to explode.  In fact, when I got home from the Model A Club dinner on Monday, there was a phone message.  It was my mom, who didn’t understand she was talking to the machine, telling me something was very wrong with Dad – that he was shaking uncontrollably and she didn’t know what to do.  She ended the message in tears.  I called immediately and Dad answered the phone sounding just fine.  Whatever it was passed quickly and wasn’t as severe as Mom thought, if it was anything at all.  It was kind of scary that she didn’t call my sister or my cell phone, but at least she can still dial a phone.

The Photo Project

The best news and probably most helpful in getting the state of my union back to rights is that the massive, multi-week photo organization project is finished. Almost.  If you haven’t read this blog post do so – because you do not want to find yourself sorting decades of undated photographs!

So here it is – 14 cases full of photos divided into 12 compartments per case.  And inside each one is an excel spreadsheet with the contents of each of the 12 compartments, organized by month and year.  I am so relieved to have not only the photos organized, but the cases off my bedroom floor and out of the studio.  That alone is helping put order in my union.  But – there’s always a but, isn’t there?

I’m not entirely done with photos.  About 1/3 of the albums on these shelves contain family photos from high school years, college, our marriage in 1968, and our children’s lives until 1981, when the photo organization project started.  And the photos in these albums are deteriorating and fading badly so they all need to be scanned.  And then there’s this:

I found a box of really old family photos – both Mark’s and my parent’s families and early years.  So they have to be scanned for sure – and there are more photos than it looks like spilling out of this box.  Including the stack of photos under the box.

But that’s for another day.  I can start this project soon, but at least there will be nothing taking up space on the floor, so as long as my surroundings are ordered, my mind will be ordered.

So the state of my union is tired, basically.  Last week proved to me what I already knew – I have to keep my activity closer to home if I hope to get back in the studio and keep my mind clear.  None of these multi-meal out weeks – which are killers of balanced meals as well as expensive.  Going out nights and being out late (um – 9:00 pm is late)  is especially hard, and I need plenty of down time.  Home is the anchor.  Home is February’s theme for Creative Every Day, and it’s an important theme, because for most of us, if we are lucky, it all starts and ends at home.

I feel as if the last week didn’t exist.  From receiving the news of my former student’s death until today, my mind feels like it’s been stuffed with cobwebs.  It’s like I went through the motions: I had a couple of lunches out with friends, did a post or two, perhaps I even cooked a meal here and there.  Probably not, actually.  Went to my granddaughter’s soccer game, visited my parents, had lunch with my sister, coffee with my daughter.  None of it felt real. I felt like I was in the lyrics of that song from Midnight Cowboy, Everybody’s Talkin At Me.  Just substitute the word “cobwebs” for “echoes.”  I wasn’t hearing echoes, everything was getting trapped in cobwebs.

Everybody’s talking at me.
I don’t hear a word they’re saying,
Only the echoes of my mind.
People stopping staring,
I can’t see their faces,
Only the shadows of their eyes.

Yesterday was the memorial. The hall was overflowing, SRO for sure, everyone from parent’s friends to a slew of young people from Santa Barbara, where Mike went to college, and former high school and junior high buddies from here.  Former teachers, his junior high principal, neighbors, relatives.  Overwhelming.  (I was so glad I’d reviewed my yearbooks from those junior high teaching years – really helped me recognize kids I might not have otherwise.)

Three people spoke formally – the close family friend who also served as MC, Mike’s sister, and me.  Then it was open mic.  Some strong messages came through from all three of us who spoke formally – actions have consequences, serious ones.  If you need help, get it.  If you know someone who needs help, then help them get it if you can. I have a feeling that this message got through to a number of young people there.

I made a photo board of Mike’s jr. high years.  Lucky I’m a picture taker – and lucky I am organizing my photos!

It’s been rough.  But I get to move on, unlike Mike’s parents who will never be the same.

So today after I got it together, which did take a while, I put my mind to home.  Moving on to the next verse of the song.

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain.

Strangely enough, we did have pouring rain today. To get to that place where the sun keeps shining, I needed order around me, so I organized.  Sometimes getting one’s surroundings ordered does a lot to order the mind.  I hadn’t unpacked yet from getting home from the cabin last Sunday, so I started in the studio.  Feels so much better to have everything back in place.  Took a few photos of the studio.  My husband helped me hang the Chinese dragon I bought last year in Paonia, CO when visiting my daughter there.  I really needed a Chinese dragon, didn’t I?  I thought so.  It’s in the back right corner of the room.

It was the grandkid’s playroom but now it’s my playroom.  We’ve got a “mini playroom” going for them in another room.  Those are the grandkid’s names stenciled on the wall.

Notice the name Daxton in this photo.  I’m going to write about the adventure that name is about to take me on!  Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe in a couple of days I can get back to work.  Catch up on my journal.  Finish that dratted photo-organizing project.  Get a routine going.

So I did shake some cobwebs loose in my mind just by getting stuff cleaned up around me.  Perhaps my posts will be a little more inspired from now on, but at least I’m doing one.  Getting back into a routine of sorts.  Routine is important.  I think the fact that my mother always had good habits and regular routines has helped  slow her descent into dementia.  Didn’t stop it, but I know it was important.

I love this routine so I’m posting it for fun.

My whole family loves this and sometimes apropos of nothing, one of us will say “macadamia,” and the rest of us say, “oooh.” You have to watch to have this make sense.

People ask me frequently about how to take a good snapshot.  I thought I’d do a series of posts on tips and ideas to help anyone get the most out of his or her camera and photography experience.

BEFORE THE BASICS: There are certain things to be aware of before you compose your first picture.

1.  Excellent photos can be taken on almost any camera – it’s not necessary to have a professional camera or a digital SLR – a digital point and shoot will do just fine.  The reason for this is – the eye of the photographer is the most important component of a good photo. When I know I am taking photos, I have my Canon EOS30D, but I always have my digital Canon Elph with me.  It’s old, and the reload time between photos is slow, but it’s an excellent camera.

2.  To take good photos, you must have your camera available.  If your purpose is simply to take family photos at an event, or document your trip to Disneyland, for example, then you will have your camera with you.  But if you are interested in documenting the world around you, you must carry a camera at all times.  A small digital point-and-shoot will easily fit in a purse or pocket.  Sound like trouble?  Think of the times you’ve thought, I wish I had my camera with me. I always have my digital Elph.

3. Having your camera with you won’t help if your battery is dead.  Buy a second battery, keep it charged and in your purse or pocket and you’ll never be caught short.  When traveling, I also take a second memory card because even though I upload to my laptop every night, I want my photos in more than one place.  I don’t want to have to erase a memory card.

4. That leads in to tip #4.  If you are photographing something important, have your photos in more than one place. First, the memory card of your camera; second, download to your computer daily; third, consider uploading to a site like Kodak Easyshare or Shutterfly; and fourth – not just for photos – back up your computer on an external hard drive.  Then, if you lose your camera, your photos will already be on your computer.  If you have erased your memory card and your computer crashes, you will have your photos on an online site; and for good measure, they’ll be on your external hard drive.

5.  Go digital.  I am not a purist – I can’t afford to be.  New technology isn’t going anywhere, and unless you are a serious amateur or professional who uses film for a specific reason, digital is the way to go.  I don’t have the time to work in a darkroom, I wouldn’t be able to process color at home anyway, and I can’t afford to take film and hope the photos turn out.  It’s expensive.  Using digital you can take 500 photos and delete 450 and you haven’t lost anything.

Now that I’m retired and am supposed to have time to focus on art exclusively, I’m encountering the necessity of blogging for the purpose of marketing.  This idea is anathema to me as an artist.  I just want to create!  Oh, I don’t mind the idea of blogging – in fact, it’s fun as long as I’m talking about art, the process of art, or posting my short stories and essays and travel journals.

Me blogging

But did you notice how many times I had to use the words “I” or “My or “Me” in that first small paragraph? Those first person personal pronouns mean it’s all about me.  For someone who’s been married for 40 years (me),

Married for 40 years

raised three children (me),

Three children

and now has nine grandchildren (me),

Nine grandchildren

it’s hard to suddenly make it all about me.  For someone who has aging parents nearby (me),

Aging parents

sisters and nieces and nephews in the same town (me),

Just the sisters and brother

and who spent the last nine years of her career focusing on students (me),

Students on Talk Like a Pirate Day

switching the focus to ME

Me on Talk Like a Pirate Day

causes all kinds of inner conflict.

AND for someone who was raised by parents who were artists (me), whose father is a famous artist (me), I have the unique perspective of trying to connect an artist’s life with the life of a family.  Connect is not an operative word here because it’s far more of a disconnect.  How did my dad do it without being ripped apart?

To get a much better idea of who my dad is, read this wonderful blog post.  This blogger, John Foster gets it!

So I have entered the mysterious blogosphere and have discovered these things.

I can’t be an artist without setting out uninterrupted time for myself.

I can’t be a writer without setting out uninterrupted time for myself.

I can’t produce a useful and interesting blog without setting out uninterrupted time for myself.

I can’t produce anything unless I view it as a job with a schedule that is as inviolable as a “real” job that I am being paid for.

BECAUSE that is the ultimate goal!  As a retired person, especially a retired person who has suffered setbacks in the recession, I can’t afford an art hobby.  I have to pay for materials at least.

That brings me full circle – all I really want to do is create,

not market – and I have to find a way to think of this in some other way than me just being selfish.  I guess I have to find a balance and that is something I am decidedly NOT good at! I jump into things full steam ahead.

I’m not sure this entry accomplished anything -but it did put the problem into words, which makes it clearer, and is a start toward a solution.  I’ll let you know if I ever find a solution!

Funny how summer always starts out as a blank slate, two-plus glorious months with nothing to do, and all of a sudden it’s packed!  Makes me think of the Calvin and Hobbes book, The Days are Just Packed. Last week was a little insane, even for me, however.  We had the four fabulous days at the cabin – the Bakersfield Six and me – came home, rested a day, and on Saturday set off for three days at Disneyland!

Just a small group of us – 21 in all.

In front of Sleeping Beauty's castle

It’s me, my three daughters, two husbands, eight grandkids (plus #10 in gestation), both my sisters, my three nephews and one niece, my niece’s fiance (wedding on Sat.). 21 in all.  In this picture, the two youngest in the strollers are not sure what it’s all about – they had just arrived, been plopped into strollers and wheeled down to a family picture in the midst of a sensory explosion!  They reacted the only sane way – by covering their heads and looking out slowly.

I suppose what possessed us is that my two nephews from Alaska, who are both in college now, have been going to Disneyland with us since they were very little.  This was the last hurrah in a way – in case we are scattered and the yearly summer visits stop.  As they become adults, we can’t expect them to come to Bakersfield every summer! So here we were.

It was horrendously hot.  Humid really. Sunday was not crowded at all but the humidity nearly did me in.  But as long as I could persevere I took photos, of course, and a couple I knew right off are going to end up as the background photos in some collages.

Paradise Pier is at California Adventure, and it’s like the midway at a fair, only a gazillion times better.  California Screamin’, a giant roller coaster, goes through that tunnel thing on the top like a giant speedy caterpiller.  Look how cool it looks:

I know this will be in a collage – I love the image and the ambiguity of it also.  It’s a roller coaster, right?  Or is it?  Well, it has to be…I could go on and on, because it won’t seem so obvious when I get it into whatever I get it in to.  How’s that for an almost illiterate sentence?  It makes the point, though.

This flower was floating in a fountain in Downtown Disney.  I love the texture and the color, the yellow petals with the red flower, and I’m pretty sure this will be the background photo of a collage.

Now this raft will not be in a collage.  I don’t think.  But it was one of the very fun rides in California Adventure.  This is me with one daughter, a son-in-law, and five grandkids.  We all got soaked!  And it was fun.

There is nothing quite like water as a dynamic medium.

This California sun, again at California Adventure, is another image I like.  Half in sun, half in shade.  I want to use it but I can already envision problems.  It’s going to give me trouble, I know it, but I will try anyway.  This is how a collage takes shape – I have an image, and it will float around in my mind for a long time, I’ll get the texture of it, the variations, and slowly other images will insert themselves.  Then I’ll print photos, go up to the cabin, start cutting and rearranging and creating. And sometimes trashing and starting over.

I’m not sure what’s going to happen with this one.  But it’s pretty amazing – this giant wheel, seemingly supported by two steel posts, and full of people in colorful cages.

This is here just because I like it.  The grandkids speeding along in this “highway patrol” car.  I remember when that was fun for me – going fast, screaming around curves, loop-de-looping; now, I just throw up.  Age takes away certain pleasures.

The next day arrived and we went into Disneyland itself for the day.  The Colorado contingent joined us, but the little princess had a temp of 100 and wasn’t so sure how much fun this was.  Her brother, however, was taking it all in.

As I was waiting for them to arrive, sitting on a bench on Main Street with two strollers, I looked at the bench opposite me and I think I found another background picture for a collage.  It’s an unconscious process in a way, because I don’t look around thinking “collage material,”  but I see things that grab me.  Here’s the bench.

And I know for sure that this next photo will be background.  Again, water.  I love water.  This is taken from the submarine porthole in the Finding Nemo ride – the old Submarines.  I love this one.

I’m thinking cows, peacocks, I don’t know – images are jostling around and something will settle out and I’ll try it.

And of course, Monstro, what fun it will be to make a collage from this!  I have always loved this – from the scary thrill we had as young children entering the mouth of the whale – with the scary teeth yet! – to the remembrance of that thrill.

It’s pretty thrilling to look at this even now.  Again, water.  Love photos of water.  And  I just used the word “thrill” or a variation three times in a row.  I would not have let my writing students do that!  But of course we learn the rules only to break them.

So we had a pretty awesome three days.  And an incredibly draining three days, what with the activity and heat and humidity.  But is it all worth it?  Of course, and this is why:

Seeing my granddaughter on her first trip to Disneyland – entranced by Minnie Mouses’s house (even though she had a temperature and wasn’t  feeling tip top), is all the reward I could want.  What I am really doing, I hope, is building memories both for me as I get older, for my kids, and mostly for my grandkids.  In an imperfect world, I’m giving them what I can of perfection.  Who knows what my granddaughter is thinking here, where her imagination is taking her, and when it will resurface in the future to help her on her journey.  It’s all about the journey.

P.S. It’s been pointed out to me that I did not take the photo of the flower in the water.  My granddaughter took it while holding my camera while I went in the restroom!  Dang, now I can’t use it!

This is me.  Bursting with happiness and also caught on camera by surprise.  Why am I happy?  It’s the third day of being in the mountains with six of my grandkids – just me and the grands!  We’ve been having so much fun that when we return we’re all checking into Laughter Anonymous.  As one grandson says, we need a laughter 12-step program – sometimes we laugh so hard it’s almost dangerous!  In a bit, I’ll explain – no, I’ll show you – why my Bakersfield Six have become my own six little Glamberts.  But first…

How can I be so lucky?  Three days, six kids, no disagreements.  Highlight of the morning was washing and drying the shirts we tie dyed yesterday and seeing how they came out.  I’m wearing mine – the least creative of the bunch.  Here’s the array.

Fantastic, huh?  We just followed the directions in the Tie Dye kit I bought at Michael’s.

The Jackson Smile

When I ask one of the Colorado Three (my grandson in Colorado, who is three) (the Colorado Three becomes the Colorado Four in March) to give me his very best smile, this is what he does.  So we are all doing The Jackson Smile.

The Two Boys - Geordi LaForge?

Look at the great job these two guys did on their shirts.

Here's some tie dye with attitude

So – the TREASURE HUNT.  I had given the kids supplies they could use to make clues for a treasure hunt through the woods.  I also supplied the treasure, which I found on clearance at World Market.  The first team set out to plant their clues.

Why walk when you can run - uphill?

The new motto:  Why walk when you can run uphill? Why indeed?

Oh no...

Is there really a clue near this forest service bug trap?  Only one was brave enough to get it.

We see another clue!

Follow the arrow.

Could there be something up there? Everyone's looking up.

By gum, there is treasure up there.

Where do we go next?

Found something marked "Boy." That's me.

Hurry up. Remember the motto? Why walk?

Into the ravine.

Treasure hunt successfully concluded with girls getting scarves and boys elephant banks.  I know my kids will love that – something else to sit around.

So what was left after a short rest?  THE GLAMBERTS!  Adam Lambert, move over.  (Well ok, no one can out-Lambert Adam) but the Bakersfield Six put on a show that anyone would be proud of.  Remember what I’ve been listening to hour after hour for the last two days?  “To the right, to the right, to the left, to the left…” and so on.  And on with the show!

This dance was intricate and entertaining.

I couldn't believe how great they were - six kids from 8 to 15.

Ok ok, I know what you are thinking.  They can’t be THAT good.  Well, you’re talking to a proud grandma here and in my eyes, they were perfection.

Have they been watching So You Think You Can Dance?

Fantastic.  We’ll be announcing tour dates soon.  Tickets will be available…ok, shake off the daydream, no tour.  No Glambertmania.  But I was so proud of my six little Glamberts.

Moving on to FOOD.  Food is always good.  The two biggest girls were chefs tonight.

Chefs du jour

They made a terrific beef stew.

Secret recipe.

Cow Patties

It was a “Cow” themed meal and for dessert we had cow patties.  Yum!  Made from chocolate chip cookies and Reece’s Peanut Butter ice cream.  Do you think this was a big hit?  A big hit with me was how efficient these two girls were – they cleaned, cooked, and cleaned up.  It was amazing.  I have to say I got off easy in the meal department.  I first decided that they should make the dinners because I thought they’d have a lot of fun planning and doing it, and indeed they did.

What would Jean Luc do?

Jean Luc would clean up, pack up, and go home as scheduled because we go to Disneyland on Saturday.  They’ll  be 20 of us – all family.  So stay tuned for news from the Magic Kingdom.

I don’t think life could get any better – really and truly.  I am blessed.

P.S.  The laughter part came from playing Catchphrase after dinner.  I don’t believe anyone could laugh as much and as hard as we did.

And tomorrow I’ll talk about a new collage I did these last three days.  Where did I find time?

“When I look back on my childhood, I wonder how I survived at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: The happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.

“People everywhere brag and whimper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious alcoholic father; the pious defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying schoolmasters; the English and all the terrible things they did to us for 800 long years.”

Those words are on the first page of Angela’s Ashes, the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Frank McCourt, who died today at age 78.  When I read those words I was galvanized and knew that the pages to follow would be mesmerizing.  And they were.

Were I to pick out one sentence from that passage, it would be “The happy childhood is hardly worth your while.” Is that true?  I’d say yes, in essense.  I don’t think it means you must have a miserable childhood, but certainly, without adversity somewhere along the line, whether internal or external, you could hardly become an adult.

McCourt, and thousands just like him, qualified in the miserable childhood category.  But he had the gift to write about it in a way that brought it alive.  I could feel myself in the lanes, dealing with a certain class of people, and I could feel hunger.  His subsequent two books did not have the same impact, but his brilliance burned so brightly in Angela’s Ashes, that we really didn’t need any more.

Rest in peace, Mr. McCourt.  You’ve earned it.  And thanks for opening up your childhood and life to us so we could better understand our own lives.

The day arrived!  My daughter driving, me riding shotgun, and four teenagers (three of my grandkids and a friend), we’re off to the Staples Center in Los Angeles for American Idol.  A van with six Glamberts inside.

On the road again.

Four beautiful girls – Ali, Sarah, Daxton and Katie.  Last year when we went to the Idol concert, we stopped to visit a friend in the hospital first, then we got lost because although I grew up in Los Angeles and knew we were heading the wrong way, the navigation system said we were going the right way.  The electronics must be right, right? Wrong.  This year, no problem.  We weren’t rushed and got there to have dinner at ESPN Zone – right before the crowds hit!

My daughter on the left.

As we headed to Staples Center, I got a tweet from Michael Sarver. (Ok, he wasn’t tweeting just me, but I felt important anyway.)  He said some of the idols were outside greeting the crowd, so we zoomed over there and saw Danny, Kris, and Matt Giraud.  No Adam, boo hoo.  I guess he had too much media to do.  Everyone is interested in HIM.

Kris Allen

Kris was totally cool – so relaxed, so nice, very laid back.  Danny signed item after item with great patience.

Moi - with Matt Giraud

Matt Giraud turned out to be the big surprise of the night.  We all knew he was good – but wow, he rocked that arena!  Could have listened to him forever.  He was one hot tamale.

Ok – time to go in.

Inside the Staples Center

The kids had seats away from ours which probably led to greater enjoyment on their part.  And I actually bought an Adam tee shirt!  What was I thinking?  Will I have the courage to actually wear it?  Ummmmm – YES!

So WHY WERE WE HERE?

I have to take a little detour here into the Adam phenomenon.  When I was in school, I was madly in love with Bobby Rydell!  But my big crush was Don Drysdale.  That’s right, a baseball player.  While the other kids were swooning over Fabian and Frankie Avalon, I was stuck on Don Drysdale and Sandy Koufax.  Right there, that should tell you that I am not quite mainstream.  I’ve never joined a fan club, never been gaga over movie stars or entertainers (I did have a picture of Harrison Ford in my closet however).  But here comes Adam Lambert.

I don’t think it’s a matter of adoration, crushes, etc.  But we are, so many of us and yes, so many of us in my age group, completely mesmerized by this man.  We scream for him, we watch the performances on youtube over and over, and look for any mention of him on the news or the blogs.  Why?  Of course, he is completely good-looking, handsome, dashing in a slightly dangerous sort of way, but we might get bored looking if he just stood there.  But – he moves!!  Boy does he move.  I really can’t think of anyone else who can draw you in by his movements, his sexiness, his hint of danger and wickedness, and that indescribable voice.

For me, maybe that’s the crux.  I so ardently admire anyone who is at the top of his game, who is brilliant, who is supremely talented, and Adam is all this.  And he also happens to be, from all accounts, just very nice, considerate, helpful, and kind.  So I am hopelessly devoted to Adam.

I do laugh, however, at all the statements on blogs and twitter and facebook reacting to the fact that he’s gay.  No one seems to mind that much – but so many of the girls say, “Oh well, I like him anyone, but too bad there’s no chance for me.”  That cracks me up.  As if there were ever a chance for any of them!  Or any of us old enought to be his grandmother!

And there’s one other facet to this.  It’s so much fun to have fun!  And to think about Adam rather than Iraq or Pakistan or world hunger.  It’s a release.

So – the concert.  Everytime a picture of Adam showed on screen, or in a Ford commercial, while we were waiting for the concert to start, the arena went wild.  It was pretty clear who people were there to see.

Allison Iraheta

Everyone was good to watch – not thrilling, maybe, but entertaining enough while we waited.  The crowd reacted well but not with terrific enthusiasm until Matt Giraud rocked us all out and left us wondering, where did he go during Idol? Was it  judge intimidation or the song choices?  Because THIS Matt was worth seeing all on his own.

Then after intermission, Allison came out and took over the stage.  She owned that stage.  Her energy was so dominating and infectious and her voice was so commanding that there was no doubt that we were looking at a rock star to be.  Next was Danny and he was ok.  He did a Latin number that was really fun and cool, but then he got into a combination of motivational speech/preacher speech and left I think at least half the crowd puzzled.  But it didn’t matter becasue excitement was building for…

ADAM who exploded onto that stage singing Whole Lotta Love.  Could hardly get a photo there were so many bright lights exploding all over the stage.  From second one, he was not a rock star, he was a Rock God.  WHY had no one discovered this guy before?

Mad World or Starlight

Next he sang Starlight by Muse.  I’m pretty sure this is the Starlight picture.  It was amazing.  Just soaring and indescribable.  After that Allison came back for Slow Ride - those two rock together.  They are magic together.  And clearly admire each other.

Life on Mars

Adam did Mad World and the audience actually sang along.  That was so cool!  How can he keep singing that song over and over and over and make it fresh each time? And then a David Bowie medley starting with Life on Mars.

He was wearing an incredible leather black/blue spiky jacket with tails, but during the next number he took off the jacket.  You know the trite old expression “The crowd went wild?”  Well, the crowd went wild.

Shirt off

If you squint and look close enough you can see bare shoulders.  So hard to get photos from where I was.  I swear, if I do this again, I’m taking a step-stool.

Kris came after Adam of course – Kris was the winner.  And his set was great.  People sat down but did fully appreciate him – the ones who didn’t leave after Adam.  I liked him better than I ever had on the show.  I wonder if he has moments when he feels a little left out – the press wants to interview Adam, the people scream for Adam, it’s Adam Adam Adam.  Kris is a gentle person, though, and I would guess he is genuinely happy for Adam and doesn’t mind the excess of Glambertmania.

Which reminds me that this Glambert got black nail polish for the show!  No eyeliner though.

So the finale.  And it was done.  And we were trending toward tired.

Getting ready for the 2-hour ride home.  I gotta tell you, Friday was wasted.  Home at 1, bed at 2, can hardly do that anymore.  You feel a little bit different in the sixth decade of life.  But it was so fun and my guess is, we’ll do it again if the next Idols are good.  There will never be another Adam, that’s for sure.

So this Glambert is signing off for now, still entranced by all things Adam.

The latest issue of McSweeney’s has explanations of many historical forms of literature with both past and current examples.  I was intrigued by pantoums – a poem originating from Malaysia from around 1400 AD, and possibly even earlier in oral form.  A pantoum is written in quatrains, and, according to McSweeney’s, “…in which the second and fourth lines of each stanza reappear (with small alterations) as the first and third lines of the next stanza, and the first and third lines of the first stanza return as the last and second lines, respectively, of the final stanza.  There is no set length, rhyme scheme, or subject matter for a pantoum…”

Well, this sounded fascinating and I loved the pantoums that were printed.  So of course, I had to write a pantoum!  Now I’m not pretending this is great literature or even good, and I’m not saying it’s profound, but it sure was fun to fool around with.  Click here for Busyness.

CHALLENGE – write one yourself and post on the blog.  It’s fun!

While I was writing, this is what  Beverly Crusher and B’Elanna Torres were doing:

Beverly and B'Elanna like the cabin but they sleep most of the time, then expend huge amounts of energy in lightning bursts.