The plan to enlarge the house so we could enjoy our "retirement years" was dashed to pieces when Tommy died on November 2nd, 2011.

The windows were all changed, so that the job of covering the house with plastic could commence unhindered. It was a stupid move. Tearing out the old windows and replacing them with new ones. It meant removing concrete ledges that held the original windows, tearing away at the walls...which up until then were relatively air tight. This house used to be warm and free of vermin.

Now the place is punched through with holes that have not been properly insulated, The house is infested with mice because of the addition having improper wall insulation between the older part of the house and that which was added on, particularly between the original kitchen and the bedroom and bath that were added onto the back of the house.

Everything that had been in the house during the change, the removal of the old windows, went into boxes which are randomly dumped bits of this and that in order to make a way to tear out the old windows. Now the place is just a junk heap ... it's virtually impossible to walk from room to room...there are only paths with odd pieces of stuff everywhere with no organization to it all.

When Tommy died, my intentions were destroyed, my sense of who I am disappeared...he was so accepting of my being, as was his father. I was able to function in the world because I seemed to have a purpose, a two-fold purpose, keeping the home fires burning, was the main purpose...then when Tommy went on the road with Leann, I was alone, Tommy's father was also on the road, being a locomotive engineer.

The second purpose was to make a clean roomy home for me to make art and for Tom's 'story places' the scenarios / model environments for his Dinky Car collection.

Myself, I wanted to be also able to go where ever I could see examples of great art from all cultures, particularly Western World Art. Seeing the best of those who were to be found in the museums was what gave me a desire to enter the dialog about art. Political realities however pertain in the art world perhaps even more heavily than in National Politics and International Politics. It is probably more of a footnote to culture, Art is.

Another way to say that is: The best that humanity can offer itself, culture to culture is the vision of its artists. That devolution we have seen for many years now, being the case, art is not the reason for existence in a culture, as I once thought. It is not a celebration of the most positive root meanings of any culture but a reflection of the political realities of the temporary states of any and all particular cultures.

The facts on hand bear witness to a world which is in such a mess right now, the Sublime intentions and appreciations of its artists are more about that which is abhorrant of humanity. No longer about classical beauty, or abstractions of our highest virtues: Love, Patience, Tenderness, Nurturance etc nor are we rising above our baser instincts. Now it is about egotistical temporary popularities the industry wherein one might be "making a name for oneself" "Becoming rich as a result of being 'found' to be, perhaps, original; possibly intellectually and/or aesthetically in tune with the best we have within us.
No, maybe it was never other than this, but now, how it looks to me: everywhere are the scraps of what was once a mighty civilization. Yes, male dominated, but at least occasionally intended to be about the human condition.