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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

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Weak XLV

nothing

5 November 2021

gratuitous image

No. 4,344 (cartoon)

I can’t take any more.

I’m giving you no quarter.

How ’bout a dime?

6 November 2021

gratuitous image

Six Gas Meters, 67 Sprague Street, Dedham, Massachusetts (Sextych)

Here I went again, a sextych of things that almost look identical but aren’t. I don’t know whether I’m mining a rich vein or milking a dead goat.

They’re not as sharp as they could be since I didn’t have a tripod. That’s impossible to tell from these small images on a computer monitor; no one but me will ever know unless I make large prints. That’s most unlikely to ever happen.

7 November 2021

Preventing Canine Spoilage

I enjoyed a nice walk with Dr. Ferrigno this afternoon until we were accosted by an aggressive, yappy ratdog. The vermin’s human accomplice didn’t apologize, just the opposite. He said little Frou-frou Pooh-pooh—or something like that—owned the trail and that there was nothing he could do.

“There’s no excuse for a rotten, spoiled dog like that,” Dr. Ferrigno politely fumed.

“I agree,” I agreed. “It’s so preventable. Whenever I cook more canine than my guests can eat I put the leftovers in a sealed container in the refrigerator. I’ve never had to deal with a rotten, spoiled cur.”

8 November 2021

gratuitous image

Hospital Waiting Room

If there’s one thing all medical maladies have in common in the United States, it’s the waiting room. My friend Victor has made the most out of his times there by making photographs of the bland, homogenous interiors.

He lamented that can’t publish the resulting images because that might expose him to possible lawsuits, something to do with an invasion of privacy or some damn thing. (I never worry about such things since almost no one sees what I make and I don’t have enough money to be an attractive courtroom target.) As a result, he only shows the work to people he knows on his mobile electronic portfolio thingie.

I suggested that he anonymize the patients in the picture by silhouetting the people, but he rejected the idea because that sounded like something John Baldessari would do, but I know with certainty that he never will since he died last year.

I modified one of Victor’s pieces and I kinda like it. I can’t say that I love it, though, since it’s still his baby, not mine.

9 November 2021

The Greek Future Past

I asked Athena—I really do know a woman named Athena—why Greeks always seem so damn cheerful, so confident.

She shrugged, smiled, and said, "We have a great future behind us."

I wrote that eight thousand three hundred and seven days ago. I usually don’t do reruns unless I’m in trouble, but I liked that so much when I accidentally ran across it this morning I decided that I couldn’t do better than that today. I was tempted to update it to mention the other Athena I met many years ago, but decided not to since she’s Korean. I did, however, correct two glaring typos that had gone unnoticed for decades.

10 November 2021

Stooged

I can’t remember the specifics, but I did or said something that annoyed Jana. It happens all the time.

“You need to use your head for once!” she admonished.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You know the meaty stump between the shoulders that you hang your cameras from? The big bony lump on top of the stump is your head,” she explained. “There should still be a functioning brain in there; use it.”

“Oh, that thing!” I replied. “I keep trying to think but nothing happens.”

Jana gave up lecturing me after I quoted Curly Howard née Jerome Lester Horwitz; no one ever wins a debate with a stooge.

11 November 2021

Some Real Good Witty Repartee

Jasmin told me a five-alarm porky and I called her on it. Oak trees evolved from dinosaurs?!

She was unrepentant.

“If I’m lying, I hope you drop dead!”

Now that’s what I call me some real good witty repartee!

Stare.

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©2021 David Glenn Rinehart

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