A Story in Their "Words"

Second Day Nothing by Jonas Burgert

This painting was one of the most unusual and provocative pieces in the entire Denver Art Museum.

It is by a German artist named Jonas Burgert. The title translates to "Second Day Nothing."


There were chairs lined up along the entire wall of the gallery where the painting was hung. It was easy to see why--there was so much detail, so much emotion, so much detail to take in....



The work details what appears to be a cataclysmic urban accident. Some of its characters have resigned to their fate, while others are attempting escape or are trying to assist with cleanup of the moody green substance. The painting shows the range of disparity of reactions in human nature in the face of disaster.

The work is reminiscent of Hieronymus Bosch's epic illustrations, and like Bosch's work, Burgert's piece is open to a variety of interepretations.

I could have sat along that wall all day. This is the amazing thing about art--one picture can certainly be worth a thousand words!

Fox Games

I'm just now getting around to downloading and sharing all the pictures I took at the Denver Art Museum during both my visits to Colorado. We went to the museum on both trips, and yet we were still unable to get through all the exhibits! The level of artwork and history was amazing.

One of the exhibits in the Modern Art Gallery was this interesting installation by Sandy Skoglund called Fox Games.



You can actually walk right through the middle of the piece.



If you enter the exhibit from upstairs you can see part of the installation on your way down.



The foxes are everywhere, and every element in the "restaurant" they are causing chaos in is painted red--the chairs, tables, dinnerware, forks, spoons....



And all the foxes were gray, except for this one, which had a red rodent in its mouth. He was also red.

Did he become red when he became part of the restaurant, because he is set to dine?

The foxes are everywhere!


Some are playful...

And some are mischievous...

And some are humorous!

I really liked this piece, because as a person who is surrounded by animals, I see on a daily basis all these different personas in my own animals. Someone might be curious, another sleepy, another grumpy, while another one is playful.

It's sort of like living with the seven dwarves, except they don't have jobs!

Ten More Things

1. I still haven't decided what I want to be when I grow up. Right now, I'm trying to decide between being a teacher, tax accountant, radiology tech, or an astronaut.

I'm leaning towards astronaut. I've been told I'm in orbit already a time or two.


2. The possum hasn't come back...yet. I might have to break down and buy a turkey now.


3. I have a thing for coats. Some women like shoes--I like coats. I have lots of coats and jackets: a black leather mid-length light jacket, a cream leather full-length jacket, a 60's vintage light polyester rain coat, a cream-colored cashmere overcoat (also vintage), a jean jacket, several work coats and vests, an Eddie Bauer barn coat (which never sees the barn), a lambskin suede jacket, several light rain jackets, and now I'm starting to accumilate sweater-jackets.

Now, I have accumilated these over several years, and the vintage ones I bought for $5 at estate sales, so there isn't as much money wrapped up in all this as it sounds. My reason for bringing this up, though, is because I have a problem--I can't quit finding gorgeous coats, like this one.

Help me Rhonda. Help, help me Rhonda.


4. When we were in Colorado for my brother's graduation, my dad and I went out to eat with my brother and his wife. We were all joking around, poking fun at one another when my dad suddenly stopped in front of a Build-a-Bear Workshop, pointed to the black cat model and said something (I don't remember what) about it. We all laughed and started walking to the restaurant we were heading to, but instead of following, my dad went IN the store.

Long story short--my dad Built-A-Bear. He actually Built-A-Kitty, but my 59 year old father went in a Build-A-Bear workshop without a child under the age of 27.

In his defense, he didn't know how the Build-A-Bear Workshop worked, but it was still hysterical. The lady working played right along. He gave the cat he built to my sister-in-law and she registered him on their tiny, colorful computers as Sid Vicious.

And then we wonder why no one wants to hang out with us.


5. Friday is Hawaiian Shirt Day.


6. Sophie shares my aversion to cold weather. I'm usually in my night clothes, snuggled up underneath two comforters and two blankets by 8pm. Sophie has been letting me know lately that she prefers we snuggle up much earlier. Even with her winter sweater on, she can't wait to be able to lay underneath the bed covers (an activity she refuses to do without me).

She's also gotten pickier about which side of me she wants to sleep on. She's always been content to go on whatever side I allow her to be on. Now she chooses, so what do I do? I lay whichever direction she wants.

I have no idea what's wrong with me.


7. It's a common theme in my life, though--the animals taking over. For example, I used to firmly believe that only sick horses, or horses without shelter, or show horses with thin coats from being kept in a lighted barn should be blanketed during the winter. Now, if there's a sudden cold front coming in, any precipiation predicted, or it gets below 25 degrees period, I feel the need to blanket my horses. All of them are healthy, have good winter coats and, in my opinion, have a sufficient layer of fat over their bodies to keep them warm, plus every one has access to shelter and a windblock from the cold north wind.

Still, I feel terrible if they don't all have on their waterproof, medium-weight turnouts. It's not so much that I feel like they need them, as much as it makes me feel happier if they have them, and they have that little bit of extra comfort, especially when they don't have enough good sense to go inside their shelters in the pouring, freezing rain.

I still have no idea what's wrong with me...or them.


8. When I'm at work I can sometimes hear mice scratching around in the walls and ceiling. It doesn't freak me out, like it would some women. It actually irritates me. It's like it's taunting me.

I think I've been hanging around Sophie and the pussy-cats way too long.


9. I really miss having a kitchen.


10. I'm so close to getting to show my horses, finally, that I'm getting really, really super-excited about it. Over the past year I've been able to get a show saddle, a horse trailer, a show shirt, clippers and other grooming supplies, a barn (shed) that I can fence off and keep horses fit in, show pants, several halter-appropriate outfits, a lovely pair of black show boots, and now I'm really close to getting another lovely rail shirt and some chaps thanks to a wonderful friend. Actually, all these things I got because of wonderful friends and family.

All I have left are a saddle blanket, a white/light gray tail for Paula, and a belt! Not too bad considering a year ago I really had nothing.

And in the spring, I'll get a yearling show halter and lunge line for Mr Moose.

My future (and white horses) are so bright, I gotta wear shades.

It's Baaaaaaaack!

Yesterday, in the approximately 2 seconds I have of daylight between the time I get home from work and when the sun goes down, I re-arranged the horses so Moose went in the pen with the large, newer shelter with Bambi and Fabian, and I appointed "Aunt" Paula as mentor for our new addition.

After that I promptly fed everyone, unhooked the trailer, smashed the heck out of my finger, said a few choice words and went inside. After the pain in my finger subsided (which really, really hurt for a simply smashed appendage but of course I don't even have a bruise today to wear as a badge of honor), I went back outside to check on everyone and make sure they were getting along ok.

Everyone was doing wonderfully. Paula and Itsy were together, resting calmly, and Moose was fitting right in (he seemed very happy to be back with his pal Fabian, even if it means having to put up with that mean little Bambi horse). I turned around to go inside and there it was....

...right behind my truck tire, "dead."

Of course he wasn't dead. I could tell it was the same exact one I had banished the other night, too--he has a scab on his cheek where he must have gotten into a fight with the cat or some other critter.

Well, tonight his fate would change because the truck was unhooked from the trailer, so I ran inside and got my keys, came back out, used an apple-picker to throw him in the back of the truck, Sophie jumped into the passenger's seat and we took off down the highway.

I had my bed lamp on the whole time and after about a mile of that cold air the possum was wide awake and strolling around the truck bed. I pulled off a few miles down the road--I would have gone even further, like the next county, if I had brought my cell phone along and hadn't been in my nightclothes and robe.

I found a safe place to pull over, down a county road a ways, close to a tree row. Using the apple-picker I pestered the rodent once more until he curled up in his death-pose, scooped him up and laid him in the tree row.

It didn't take him long to wake up this time as by the time I made a u-turn and turned the headlights on the area he had vanished. Hopefully this time, for good.

If not, then we might end up with the most interesting Thanksgiving meal ever.

What Color Is She?

One of the fun thing about paints is there are so many different genes, patterns, variations and combinations that every time you see one, you can spend hours asking and speculating about what kind of genes the horse may carry.

This morning I got a little surprise. Well, actually there were two little surprises. The first one was that Itty Bitty gave me a kiss. She walked right up to the fence, stuck her nose out at me, and gave me not one, but two lovely horsey-kisses.

It was wonderful because the poor girl has been scared to death. She's so jumpy and not at all sure of what the heck is going on, so for her to just stroll right up and want that kind of attention really warmed my heart. Right now I'm just letting her settle in, meet the other horses and get used to the way of life around the farm, but she took initiative to say "hi" and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.


However, when she turned around to go check out her feed, I saw that her tail was "skunked!"

(Not Itty Bitty's Tail)

Well, duh! It had crossed my mind that the markings on her sides were a little unusual for a typical sabino. She has really gotten lighter since she was a foal, so I was curious as to why she had so much roaning so fast. Eddie's type of sabino roaning really doesn't come out until ages two or three, and her neither of her parents have any roaning, so it was a bit odd that she's so...roan.

Well, she's rabicano. She's got the characteristics, on top of her "normal' overo markings. I've only ever had one other horse with any rabicano markings, so I'm admittedly in unfamiliar territory here, but it's safe to say it's a pretty cool look:


So, in toto, I've got a solid with sabino roaning like her daddy (Bambi), a blue-eyed frame overo with sabino roaning like his daddy (Fabian), a gray overo whose spots you can't see because she's practically white (Paula), a blue-eyed, extreme splash overo that looks like he's tovero (Moose), and now a sabino/rabicano whose color who will most likely get more roan with each passing year.

Variety is the spice of life,