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The absolutely best thing about this page is that almost nobody but me ever reads it or sees any use for it.
ThEdBlog9 spelled & pronounced "Thed Blog" but in red and black and gray with no spaces.
Intimate Stories + Odd-duck Photographs by J R Compton
This is where I work out my demons. So much easier here,
because nearly nobody reads it, so I can say anything…
Shoes, Pants, Rug
I have incipient Alzheimer's. All my accumulated forgettings I passed off as having lasted most of my life (true) are still there staring at me and wondering who we all are and where we belong. I had assumed that since both my father and my mother had and have it, respectively, I'd get it, too. But since both my parents' parents died in their sixties, and Mom's 95 and Dad was 101, I assumed I'd last till my 110s or so, but perhaps not cogently.
I do still think. Some of my thoughts are intelligent. I have always tended towards the snotty (Though not snooty; it has been sorta a secret.) about having an oft-tested IQ of 130, right over the edge of genius, and I think that shows best in my words sometimes and my photography. So I keep writing about art and photographing it, birds and everything else. Some people seem to share my opinion. Others simply assume I have always been the dolt I probably will become.
I have watched friends sink into this unenviable malady. It's not so bad at first, but it seems inevitably to slow to near a stop, then trip over the edge into nothingness. I used to believe I'd want to suicide, like ten or more of my dear friends have, over the years, for much less provocation. But I like life as I know it, and knowing it will change fascinates me, but there will come a time when the fascination turns to utter insipidity.
Fifty years ago in college my girlfriend, later wife, long ex — as others have since — whispered who this or that approaching us at parties and social events was and gave a little context so I could converse intelligently. More recently, I developed the notion that I had name- and face-blindness. That just having known someone's name or identify did not always mean I would continue to know either for long. I probably now recognize about three, maybe five dozen people whom I consider friends I might invite to a party, but I still appreciate those whispers some friends know to provide. Some friends talk, others just hug, and both are greatly appreciated.
If I see someone often, like my birding friends, I recognize them and actually use their names when we talk. Same with old art friends. Old as in long-term. Old, too, in age, and some of the older ones show the added joy of knowing what it's like to not remember all the details.
I've been thinking of getting letters to stick on my black T-shirt uniform to the effect that, "If I repeat myself, tell me." So you all don't have to endure the repeats, or run screaming.
I still drive most days, but I assume that will slow and stop. A lot of what I do will. At least twice a week someone calls or writes asking me to sell them The Slider (my precious Prius) for less than I think it is worth. And even more people want to buy my house, which I paid off by working so constantly during four years and three months in the early Eighties that I rarely recognize 80s music. It is still a fixer-upper, but my heirs will get both.
Everything is becoming more difficult. The complexity of posting pages of pictures and words to the Internet has always seemed complex but not entirely impossible, though it's tending toward more of both lately — and that's what I do.
I have not been officially diagnosed yet. Getting an appointment at the VA is slow and surly. At my last appointment with my civillian doctor, he tricked me into letting him charge my insurance company $2,700 for useless blood tests that the VA had already done, by telling me I needed a physical exam, which he did not do. So I'm reticent to bother him.
But even I can see the signs.
Knuckles, Mirror, Feathers, Dashboard at The Latino Culture Center
ISO 800 1/1,000 at f9 5:14:25 PM, January 13, 2016
My Art Enuii lasted longer this time than ever before, I think. I don't really keep track of them. I'm 71 years young, and I keep thinking I should play more and work less, but it's so difficult to tell the difference between those two sometimes.
This photograph was taken after looking for art at an art center that didn't have an exhibition when I was there, but I found a photo-worthy reality I thought worth taking another photograph of, then when I got outside and into The Slider, saw the sun shining through my feathers, and just had to make another photograph. Probably why I carry a camera so often, even if I was hoping to take pix of art. Except, of course, this is art.
The feathers are getting a little raggedy.
I keep promising myself I'll review some local art, then when it comes right down to doing it, I don't.
Instead, I do an end-around and write about an event that prominently shows art, but in a different setting. The first of the series, although I may remember others, was the estate sale of prominent teacher and painter Ann Cushing Gantz. That worked out so well, that when I was notified there'd be an estate sale for popular Dallas artist David McManaway, I knew just what to do and say to pitch it to the people in charge.
The most recent … found myself on a new path of writing about art that I like. Just that I haven't initiated any of them. Which may be the best thing about it. Oddly true also is that my friend Debora Hunter has provided the impetus twice in a row of the few episodes I have so far engaged in this off-topic pursuit of art in people's lives and deaths.
First tip I got was that the late Dallas Artist David McManaway, who died some time ago, would be the subject of an estate sale everybody was invited to. I put the notice on the cover of the DallasArtsRevue that used to be the number one seen page on this site. It may still be. I'm just opposed to doing things simply because people like to read it. I'm more interested in one I'm more interested in doing.
And lately, that's been to find non-official art events, places, ideas, etc. that artists, like everybody else, get involved with.
The ThedBlog Index of all things Thed & Blog
Thed Blog #9
Thed Blog #8 [from the top] - An obituary for my friend Margie | My 48-hour EEG results | The Sleeping Man, a photograph in a show | uncommunicative communications | My knack for words | Photography as a Potential Art Form | Me whining about nobody reading my reviews (but they do) and me compensating by writing How to Photograph Art | a story that had got stuck in my craw until I wrote it out | I am swimming again (and, in fact, I am again in September 2012 | Something about a white chair | Reconnoitering downtown | Thinking in a lens' focal length | Somebody wanting a studio visit for a show I didn't want to be in | detonating confidence or some such | telling stories | how much longer can I keep up all these ruses? | some indeterminate story under a pile of apples and a plum, peppers and a pear | writing a story | the flurry of writing | calming the f down | invitations to art shows by artists who won't show me any of their art | something confusing under a chameleon on the orange door in my office that is turning orange | Other People's Stories | entering competitions — I think I say I was gonna, but I haven't, but maybe it's about something else. I don't know. I suppose I'd have to read it to find out what it is about | writing about something, anything | How much is art worth? | Am I being vague enough yet? | me whining about AT&T, Times Wormer and other "communications" entities | started off with printers, then wound through cameras | On Traveling Alone and Free | more whining about webhosts | The DallasArtsRevue logo | What is a vacation? | Stoney Burns | my mother's 90th birthday | blah-blah-blah art stuff | Self-Promo | Clicking pictures all the way. | Me being dismayed and perplexed (again) | Me in the unusual status of holding my tongue | There are times when I can actually make a semblance of sense about some art | Me not being ready to release those notions | some success | I'm learning again that if I don't write down the first head-long rush of feelings and opinion from a night or day of art, they get lost in the miasmas | winter | feeling all superior and other odd journeys | transferring data | little reminders | what I didn't do for a year | fresh flowers | process | drying clothes without a clothes dryer | inevitabilities | losing pictures and my mind | putting my office back together again | slowing and stopping | Life As I Know It | a party | on photographic composition | I knew it when I did it, and I did it anyway. | An plagiarizer who wanted to steal money from a nonprofit fund to pay her debt | cleaning up the ACC | visual memories in my new office | rearranging idiot histories | The real trick with websites is to keep updating pages. | Why anyone would want my advice is baffling. | I just re-registered www.DallasArtsRevue.com for twenty more years | my new office | the empty space that was and will be my new office | The Sky Is Falling! | Blood on the Bathroom Floor | no telling what this one is about. Surely I don't have to read it again, right? | Ooo! Yum! Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill Cockroaches | My new right foot | Right now, the whole world is slurring around me. | Copyright and Copy Wrongs | too many juggler thingies in the air at once | Starting a new thed blog
ThEdBlog #7 - Henderson Art Project winners strung down Henderson Avenue in East Dallas from Ross Avenue to Central Expressway | Hecho en Dallas at the Latino Culture Center | Sarah Williams - Outskirts and others at 500X | Corazon at the Bath House, Dallas' only Community Art Center where budding and pro artists alike can show their work — until the City in its infinite stupidity closes them down, because all they have money for is more concrete, not the arts or anything that might serve the community | Modern Ruin at an new bank building that was never a bank building but for three and a half days was a very interesting exhibition of rather strange art by some of Dallas' best artists | The Dallas Art Fair downtown with art from everywhere and here, too | And the grand opening of The Dallas Contemporary with art by an LA artist who put airplane wrecks in their hangar-like space
ThEdblog #6 - Concludes with a list of the most popular pages on DallasArtsRevue in July 2009, and a couple other statistics | on being famous | trying to get how to submit information to this site to people who submit information to our calendar | my neighbors | "friends" who want to use my photographs in their photography book, but they don't want to credit my photos | how Ken's and my story, Witness to an Apparition got collaborated | images that stick in my mind | the difficulties of entering digital-entry competitive exhibitions | On confusing ThEdblogs with Art Here Latelys | what's worth seeing in Art in America | idiot Facebook | my bird photography as art | hit counters | sometimes I'm certain I am an artist — other times I wonder | scaring myself with my art | choosing your art to show | engagement book vs. artists | stealing DARts page for self-aggrandizement | explaining about critiques and not critiquing | the Missing page | hit counters | the calendar | site stats |
ThEdblog #5 - Starts with a disorienting blank (gray) image, which stands for the half terabyte of data, images, letters and everything else I lost that week, and other stories, including: Not the DO's art critic (I blogged while they blithered) and my unDO stories — as un Dallas Observer
ThEdblog #4 - It's almost not fair | plagiarizing art | se finis | Kim Cadmus Owens | Pix2 at UTD,
ThEdblog #3 - Crit Loose | strange interview| Valley Birds | up | denoue | panic | reindeer games | damn | prince | Fierce | pro | prints | that word | fierce | numbers | dawn | arghhh | fri | locating links | making the Pelican Feather Amulet for The MAC's ornament sale | who knows what else
The Second ThEd - the Fort Worth Art Dealers Association's tour just before the DADA art tour. If I'd had an Art Here Lately page then, this page would have been there, but it's here instead.
Curate | Revisionism | Offline | Hecho | Talk
II | ViDemise
| In us | nearly all the mastheads this site has employed for identification
and navigation over this century | art movies
| illustrations | CSS | Public
Speaking | In The News | Wild | A
Gathering of Dallas Artists | Join | Dorks | 3
Concepts | Pix2 | Spam | iNTRO
an earlier attempt
I used to illustrate these abstruse and personal issues with images by anybody I had art by. Now I restrict the imagery to my own photographs with some of Anna's who's usually there. Seems more personal that way.
since Sept 12 2012