Sunday Evening Art Gallery on Friday — Amy Casey

Amy Casey is fascinated by cityscapes.

Her paintings of growing cities reflect her love of the urban landscape and with the ongoing resilience and growth of civilization.

Her cityscapes hum and sing with ribbons of roads and highways energetically wrapped around growing heaps of buildings.

Her artwork showcases her curiosity of how much time and work it takes for a society to function and grow in spite of all the problems of natural and man made disasters.

Casey has exhibited her work regionally and nationally with solo shows in Cleveland, Chicago, New York City, San Francisco, Provincetown and Los Angeles.

More of Amy Casey‘s  creative cityscapes can be found at https://www.amycaseypainting.com/

It’s Not Always What You Think

As you may (or may not) know, I have a runaway mind. I have to be careful when I’m driving not to let the story take me away from paying attention to the road. For I sometimes get an idea and just run away with it until I’ve lost a minute or two.

I had one of those ideas this evening on my way home from work.

What if, for some unknown reason, you woke up one morning and were able to heal anybody by just touching them? By squeezing their arm?

The first emotion would be shock. Then reasoning. Research. How did you get that power? Would the person stay cured? Grasped from the hands of death at the last minute?

So you’d start healing people. First some you know. Colds, heart problems, bad eyesight. You are amazed!

Word gets out. Doctors and universities and private companies want to research you. See how you do it. They may want to dissect you or put you in a tank and take tests.

But you’re not interested. You want to cure people.

According to some quick research, there are 7.7 billion people in the world, and 95% of them/us are sick with one thing or another. My little calculator turns that into 810,526,315 people are sick around the world at any one time. From cancer to colds, you’d be their cure.

if you were to see 30 patients an hour, 24 hours a day, that’s curing 720 patients a day. That doesn’t factor in sleep, meals, and rest time. So if you could cure 720 people per day, it would still take you 1,125,730 days to cure every single person in the world. And that would be only the people that are sick at this moment in time. Not the millions that will get sick tomorrow.

Saving the world is an overwhelming thing, isn’t it?

Before you know it the press would be all over you and Hollywood would want to make a movie out of your life. You would have thousands of doctors calling you every hour just to see if you could take a look at their patients first.

Then you would have to choose who you would cure first….a grandmother with lung failure, a child with pneumonia, a mother with three kids who has cancer. Not only in your city but in millions of cities around the world.

You would want to cure as many people as you possibly could. But who is first? You would have to make criteria. A hundred spreadsheets at a time of who is to be saved and/or healed first.

Everyone’s mothers and fathers would call you and come to your door begging you to save their child. Their husband. Thousands would be outside your home every day.

Curing them would prevent you from going to hospitals and hospices around your neighborhood, your town, your state. Not to mention the other 49 United States and people overseas.

See how my mind wandered?

I don’t want the power to heal sick people. I don’t want the responsibility of choosing between people I love and people I don’t know. Or deciding which illness is worse. They are all worse. Some will die because you couldn’t get to them in time to cure them, and the guilt would eventually be overwhelming.

The rest of life will go on as it should, whether you cure their cancer or their sinuses. People will still die, people will still be on waiting lists for livers or kidneys. And people will still be sad and cry.

It’s the way of the world. And no amount of instant healing will change the ending of the story.

So be careful what you wish for….

Let’s Cosplay


Sometimes I feel like a fish out of water. A bluejay in a subway. A…you get it.

For the longest time I’ve heard the word “cosplay” bantered around in various articles and circles.

I always thought cosplay was the name of a band.

Last night I watched a TV show on the SyFy channel called Cosplay Melee. And I finally realized what it was all about. Dress Up. Tech style.

According to iFanboy (https://goo.gl/fAIbSC), “Cosplay is a shortened form of two words – costume and play. It is the practice of portraying a fictional character – at times completely identifying as that character while in costume (and thus acting as if the individual was that character to add to the authenticity of the experience).”

It seems to me I have been surrounded by cosplayers for like ever and never knew they had a title.

My trips through the years to the Renaissance Faire was full of cosplayers…myself included. Although I didn’t quite lose myself in the lady-in-waiting corset way, I did find myself speaking with a British accent while I dined on turkey legs and watched the joust. I have also lost myself at Halloween now and then, everything from a wicked witch (not to be confused with THE wicked witch), a hooker, and a blueberry. I don’t remember if the acting went to my head — after all, what would a blueberry have to share with the world — but I did go all out on the costumes.

I have been in love with SiFi’s Face Off for years. I love the imagination and the talent of the competitors. It’s fascinating. Cosplay Melee is just about the same thing, except they build extensions of themselves in fantasy mode, where Face Off is somebody else’s face.

My feelings of inadequacy seem to dissipate, though, when I realize — isn’t a writer a cosplayer?

Okay, we don’t design costumes and makeup and physically turn into our favorite creature. But we know them just as intimately. We know how they look, how they smell, how they walk. We know what they think, why they hurt, why they’re insane. We know more about our fictional characters than we know (or more likely will admit) to ourselves. They’re in our head more than on the page, and there’s often no reasoning with them.

That means we make up dialects, languages, and points-of-view. We become them. And if that isn’t cosplay, I don’t know what is.

I suppose it isn’t such a bad thing to dress up and act like your favorite fantasy character. People have been doing that at Comic Con forever. Beam me up Scotty and all that. As long as you know that Neytiri exists only in the movie Avatar and Captain Kirk is only a TV hero, you’re alright. Start thinking you can jump off buildings or fisticuffs with bad guys in the alley late at night, and, well, it doesn’t take much to get back to reality.

Still, I think there’s a little cosplay in all of us. Whether we paint, write, sculpt, make jewelry, or play music. The basics are always there. It’s what we do with them that makes cosplay.

But I still thing there’s a band around with a name like that….

 

 

Went Gif Shopping Today!

tumblr_ngxeagF4fB1u3f7bso1_500I went gif shopping last night.

I feel like a weirdo…or a geek. What in the world I’m going to do with this ever-growing collection only heaven knows. Gifs are all over the Internet — they are free, they are cool — and I haven’t a clue what I’m going to do with them all.

I suppose I like the simple movements a small bit of animation holds. I’m sure they are fairly simple to make, but like a magical act, I don’t want to know how it’s done. I am content watching water flow or objects spinning. They don’t take up much room — not like a salt and pepper shaker collection — and when you bore of them there’s not a lot of guilt disposing of them with a “click”.

I suppose when you are creative (as opposed to logical), the how isn’t as important as the happening. I once had a friend who told me why pretend, when Science was so much more fascinating. This came from a very logical person, an electrical engineer, who also happened to dabble in astronomy and physics. And this opinion twisted my own when it came to letting my imagination fly.

There is truth in what my friend told me. Science, physics, astronomy, engineering, all are fascinating truths that continue to evolve into more fantastical truths. This is the foundation of all we hold dear. The physics of balance and weight built us shelter. The simple mathematics of 0’s and 1’s is what powers computers, Iphones, and automobiles. I can’t imagine a world without these fascinating sciences, these powerful tools.

Yet I am simple in a lot of ways. Mathematics, Pi, integers, all that stuff means nothing to me because I don’t have any idea how it works. It’s like part of my brain refuses to function. I am fascinated by quantum physics, by quarks and black holes, but I haven’t a fig what they really are or how they are really formed. Like watching computer graphics. If technology can create dragons and Transformers and hobbits, all from what started as binary code, who am I to judge the validity of such?

But as I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that it’s okay to be imaginative as well as factual. Being a writer, an artist, and a grandmother, it’s important to always have a storytale ready. Whether created by me or J.K. Rowling, there is a need to dazzle an audience. To make eyes widen with just a sentence. To paint a landscape that doesn’t exist on this plane of existence. To call fireflies faeries and coyote howls werewolf songs.

There is a need for both fantasy and reality in this life. Most linear folks have little to do with the imagination side, unless it’s computers or cars or airplanes. And truthfully, many imaginations don’t care how something works. In their world, it just does. The crazier the better.

Which brings me back to my being a gif hog. I try and use them on blogs now and then. But more often I sit with my little grandbaby and show them the magic that someone else made. Like believing in unicorns and astrology and thanking God for the free throw you made to win the game. Just because you can’t prove it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

So for you giffys out there, here are a few that have caught my fancy….

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Now how can you not laugh at at this last one?

Life is amazing. And so are gifs.