Van Gogh

The headline "New Details Emerge on Van Gogh's Ear" drew me to the article - http://www.comcast.net/video/debate-over-van-gogh-s-ear/1115429620/Comcast/1114783404/
Apparently, it was not Van Gogh himself who cut off his own ear, but Gauguin, who was an excellent fencer. I found myself fascinated by this and even immediately went to Netflix to add "Lust for Life" to my queue. Why, I ask myself, am I so fascinated by this new information regarding quite the odd act on the part of the artist. I think perhaps that it thickens the thin line that so many have drawn between genius and madness. If it really was Gauguin that cut off Van Gogh's ear lobe, yes it was only his ear lobe, do we now paint this as a "lover's quarrel" between Van Gogh and Gauguin? Or, if Van Gogh really did cut off his own ear lobe after Gauguin left their partnership, was Van Gogh really the distraught party merely trying to get attention, instead of the eccentric painter performing an eccentric act? Either way, the news makes those interested begin to ask new questions about both artists, and that is, in truth, the real reason that the story drew my attention.

Schedules

We live by our schedules - and some die by their schedules, literally. It would seem that our offices are incapable of functioning if we do not arrive at the office at our designated time. Although, some of us do have "flexible work" schedules, but we are still expected to arrive by a certain, if not unspoken, time. Of course, meetings happen, deadlines must be met (schedules within schedules). But, must we be subject to someone else's notion that we must be in a certain place by that designated time in order to attend those meetings, in order to meet those deadlines? In this day and age of technology, there are virtual meeting rooms, telecommuting, etc. One would think that with the idea of "going green" recently being pushed on us by the media, there would be more and more of these virtual workplaces giving more of us a flexibility to start working when we want and work the hours we want, as long as those meetings are attended and those deadlines are met. Then, I could work in my pajamas.

Heroes

There are portrayed in movies and books great heroes, historical and fictional: King Arthur, and even Harry Potter. Some more classical heroes such as Spider-Man are coming to prominence in pop-culture again. There were once real men and women hailed as heroes - Lawrence of Arabia, Charles Lindburgh. Whatever happened to that thing that makes men heroes? Why are there no names coming out of our current wars hailing men as heroes. Sure there was Stormin' Norman back in the '90's, but how many can truly name one man or woman from the Iraq or Afghanistan compaigns that we would count as a hero? Has that thing died in Americans that names someone a hero? Have we become so complacent in our expectations that we feel we don't need heroes anymore?

Comics and....Politics?

For a few years now, one of my morning rituals is to sit down and read a handful of online comics. I do this to start my day off with a smile, or at least a tiny healthy dose of "well, at least I'm not like these guys." However, recently, and yes we all know how recently, current politics have begun to creep into my comics. Not only is this happening in my online comics, but in the Sunday funnies as well. Ok, I probably just dated myself by calling them "the Sunday funnies," but nevertheless, the politics are there. Such commentary used to be reserved for Doonesbury, which I choose not to read because for me, the comic strips are a means, albeit brief means, of escapism. Reading about how a comic character was killed while in Iraq or how another's house was foreclosed on is definitely not a means of escapism, but instead a harsh reminder of the realities that may be facing myself or my neighbor. So, please, please, keep the Sunday funnies funny and leave the politics to the front page of the Post.

Laid Up

As I sit here in a chair wishing the invisible little man with a large knife that causes my aches and pains as I get older would pull out his super heated magic dagger of pain from my lower back, I find myself thinking there's not much I can do right at this moment, besides revel in the pain, so I decided to start a blog. I'm sure there are plenty of other valid reasons that I could have chosen to start "blogging," but inability to do anything else, after I checked my email fifteen times, has led me to this path. The little gnawing in the back of my head says there's the leaky faucet to fix, the closet door that needs to be re-hung, and various other little projects around the house that cold Saturdays were made for, but that gnawing little voice is quickly silenced be the super heated magic dagger of pain. I wonder if the little man will get bored and go play somewhere else by at least supper time.