BLOGAHOMA

In these days of recession and cutbacks with the economy is at a standstill one area of my life that continues to be a growth industry is my family, especially my maternal side. Now at 265 (with news of 2 more from my sister’s family coming next year), the count of direct descendants for my grandparents, Lucille and Aloysius Wunderle, is mind-boggling. It started in 1917 with grandma’s first born, my Uncle John, now 92. Mathematically it worked out to nearly three new members of the family a year. Jumping forward to 1941, when the first grandchild was born, and dividing the number by the 68 years that has passed since the average is 3.72 per year.  My grandparents had 10 but one of their daughters had 11. Of the grandchildren the largest family is 6. The families are generally smaller but most of them are still having children.  In the mix includes seven adoptions just among my branch.

I am not the keeper of the family records merely an instigator who asked that a roll call be made.  Aunts & cousins came back with the numbers. Because I can name all of my Aunts & Uncles and their spouses, my 6 siblings and their spouses, 43 first cousins, my 26 nephews and nieces and 29 great nephew and nieces I will give myself a star.  But it isn’t about remembering names it is about being part of the troops my Grandparents began. From what I have learned from my Facebook connections the Wunderle family lives up to its name, a family of Wunderkinder. a fun loving, life enjoying, hard working and emotionally generous group. This last year I encouraged the family jump on the Facebook train and now randomly peak into their lives, if only to see the latest grand nieces and nephews, and first cousins 2 times removed and what they are up to not to mention the kitty and pooch parade that are part of the families.

On my paternal side (Norris) my sibs and their offspring are probably 2/3rds the count. There is a handful on Facebook and from what I can have discovered, they too, love life, family and travel. I feel I have some strong genetic links to the Norris side. My love for writing is one and maybe this whole thing with statistics and analyzing comes from the Norris side. As the Norris side originated in Minnesota and most moved to the West Coast I know less about them. Thanks to cousin Bobby I have pictures and stories that keep me linked in.

At bedtime my mother had me and my six siblings say, what I have discovered, is a 18^th century prayer….

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;

If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

We would end it with the “God bless Mommy and Daddy, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles and cousins and all”

Now I understand why we didn’t bless them by name….we would have never got to sleep on time.

Wrapping my head around “quirky”, a word that recently used by my friend who really knows me. I had imagine that quirky was something I had grown into but no… she said that it is who I have always been.

I like to believe I am ruled by logic. Logic however can be manipulated fairly easy. So I can make collecting staplers, concocting a lunch based on color or traveling to Irish town because it has the same name as our dog, Doolin fit into my logic box, I am clever that way.

It stems, I imagine, from my aversion to routine and mundane. I rarely do anything the same way twice. Duplication is hard for me. Can draw, can’t trace. Can make exotic gelatins but don’t expect them to be the same the next time around. What routine I do own has a lot to do with living with husband that puts enough routine in our life not to rock the kayak and the dogs who know what we should be doing and when. I am not however “off the wall”. I don’t make dramatic turns causing things and people go off kilter. I am not crazy just quirky.

I continue to write this as I sit here in my sock monkey pajamas (Goodwill find) and non-matching curry colored t shirt and brown and tan striped socks. I drink my coffee out of a 1930’s restraurant china cup, Shenango Inca Ware cup to be specific. Nothing in my house is as you might expect. When people walk in the door their eyes get bigger and they smile because it isn’t anything they expected. Not the arts & crafts door not the icon on the wall not the guns hanging from the staircase nor the pottery amassed across the unconventional mantel. When I was in my mid 20’s I wore an oatmeal color t-shirt in to work that read “Run of the Mill”. It was from an old Quaker Oats factory turned shopping center. An art director from another department stopped on the staircase and commented “you my dear, are the furthest thing from Run of the Mill”.

So who would have guessed that the one of the most changeable woman you might ever encounter does not change her quirky stripes.

As you well know I have been in deep stapler studies for the last few months. And now I have taken the next illogical step, I created a video lesson on the Swingline 99. I think this could be a start of fully accredited course in Stapling Device History. The accreditation does not imply any guarantee, nor will it get you your dream job and the credit will not be transferrable to any other course of study however you will gain in regard of office geeks.

“Art is much less important than life, but what a poor life without it.”
Robert Motherwell

A side benefit of being an artist is knowing and being friends of other artists. It is a source of joy for me. Artists are brimming with ideas of the plausible, the possible and the impossible. They can be in the midst of fright/ delight, frustrated, frustrating but very rarely bored or boring. It is always show and tell with artist. What is inspiring them, their new direction and what they think you should tackle next. My artist friends need to be reassured that what they are doing is at least good and appreciated. That’s right, an artist may seem to have a healthy ego but under the top coat there is some level of self doubt. The art is the easy part for most of them, the marketing the most difficult. In return they never mock my ideas or ever let on that they think I’m whacky. In my circle of art friends I never have to explain myself.

Stapler Jam

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”
Scott Adams

I have all manner of artist for friends, sculptors, draftsmen, graphic artists, naturalists, photographers, assemblage artists, painters, craftsmen, ceramicists and performance artists. I try to applaud and encourage honestly as often as possible when I am not being held captive by my own art. The last show I attended was the reception for Debby Kaspari and her “Drawing the Motmot” exhibit at the Sam Noble Natural History Museum in Norman, OK. Not just a walk through once exhibit for each rainforest painting or drawing was accompanied with beautifully penned journal entry. The show “glowed” thats all I’ll say. “Drawing the Motmot” will be up into January 2010, so go. Then there is Marilyn Artus in Oklahoma City who heads up “Dr. Sketchy” a life drawing extravaganza night out and the “Girlie Show” a showcase for Oklahoma craftswomen as well as finding time creating her own brand of collage images. Her vitality screams “I am Artist hear me roar”.

I have held creative positions in three corporations and have picked up creative friends in every job. And then I have left but thanks to Facebook and Twitter I am still connected to them because of our shared artistic vision, drive, whims and qualms.

Some of my best artist friends are family. A husband Michael who finds the beauty of the surrounding Wichita formations in his oil paintings and gets lost in the clouds in others. Son, Colin Fahrion, whose witty art is visual, written, performing and organized as well. His wife Nifer felts her wooly way with uncommon critters.  Daughter Kim in Tulsa captures places and people through the camera lens, while sister Susan Trentel ambidextrously schemes and seams.

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”
Thomas Merton

A lot of my artist friends are on Facebook so I can see what they’re doing on in their art life. I am there to peek at the amazing undercurrents of creativity some of which make it to create great waves of art.

“Love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art”
Konstantin Stanislavsky

Quotes from ThinkExist.com

Behind the door, under the next rock, on the next Google search, and sitting across the table from me is a story. Sometimes the story is so wrapped in boring detail and cliche (and being that there are so many stories I have to yet to encounter) I must leave the boring ones behind.  My favorite Oscar Wilde quote…. “It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.” So in fact I have no time nor patience for the tedious.  I realize my interesting may be someone else’s boring. Not to say that I, myself, might be considered tedious but no one is stopping you from walking away as I describe the person that invented the last stapler I bought, my dog’s antics or how to make the perfect batch of ginger tea gelatin.

Occasionally I am bombarded by so many stories and minutia that I have to crawl into a cave. I absorb and observe so much it makes me dizzy. And yet, it seems, I can’t stop all the zillion ideas, all the lists, from bombarding my every thinking moment. Notice, I didn’t say waking moment for in fact night time brings a crazy quilt of dreams with their own problems to solved.  Three nights ago I had to stop the RV we were in from crashing into the river below. We were on our way down and it was up to me to some how save us all. I did (dont’ ask) and was standing knee deep in water when a team of reporters showed up and interviewed my on the rescue. Sleep can be exhausting. It is amazing to me that others don’t have crazy dreams or don’t remember their dreams at all. My sister, Cathy, a school teacher, dreams that she goes to school or the library. WHAT! Please could I have that dream.

Now back to the cave part. My cave sometimes is a nap. I don’t usually dream during or even move my nap so it is restful. Other escapes include Sudoku, origami, computer Scrabble and now, polishing staplers. Once refreshed I can then face the stories and actually seek them out… cache emptied and memory rebooted.