Inner Doodles

A deep vibration of a song emanates from the woods. The unmistakable sound of the great horned owl. Its call is both soothing and weighty. One swooped above my car once. It’s one thing to understand their size from books and a bit of imagination. It’s quite another to see one several feet above you. It could easily take our brute-of-a-cat at any time. The call and response of two owls becomes a song and dance. I am in bed. Covers over my head. I don’t want to Internet. I don’t want to Zoom. I can’t take another story about people who have no regard for other people’s health because they want someone else to cut their hair. Okay. I know it’s about more than that, though. I know it’s about people without jobs right now. They are scared about survival, too. They just want normalcy. We all do. It all breaks my heart. Mother, moon, magic, mystery, mythology. All associated with the owl. It is no wonder it was my grandmother’s favorite bird. I think about all of the animals on the plan...

The word Importance carries a certain weight, or heft, if you will. Objects that have Importance can change throughout a lifetime, but the meaning of the word remains more or less unchanged. Our mission, to make it out alive, is Important because humankind is Important. Today I decided to create some art that was more or less Important. I say "more or less" because the Importance of Art is completely and relatively subjective. The Importance and Relevance of these Artworks is entirely representational of my feelings given the current state of World Events, including, but not limited to the shoddy quality of my photography. Audrey White (b. before the pandemic) Where, In Fact, the Sidewalk Actually Ends and the Gas Line Begins, 2020 Photograph Audrey White (b. before the quarantine) Dish-Less Sink With a Side of Dew, 2020 Dewy arugula on found sponge This is by far the most Important Artwork of the past 30 days. It Represents my Satisfaction of a Job We...

It has officially been over a month of tumultuous emotion, ever-changing news, rapidly changing lifestyles. I feel sea sick. Everything comes and goes. Like a slow pulse. The morning bleeds into yesterday bleeds into last week bleeds into - are we still keeping count? These logs are my only way to know the days anymore. If it were a hundred years ago, I suppose I would have notches on the wall. Now I have notches on The Cloud. The wind was angry today. I think it was trying to blow us out of our houses. If Aesop had taught him anything, the wind would know that a calming tactic is more persuasive. I watched the trees knock against themselves. I watched the sun shine and then quickly be replaced by rain pouring itself down in buckets only to be interrupted by the sun again. The weather could use some calming techniques. It left me feeling disjointed. Chief Mate helped anchor me back to reality. He made up a game. It was called Quest. It involved detailed labels of care instruction...

I can’t help but notice that the number of days on the log are the same as a certain Danny Boyle film. I imagine chimp-virus zombies climbing our hill. Fast ones. The worst kind. “The fire is blocking our path! We have to stop it!” Chief Mate cries. Co-Captain mans the grill while I lounge on my new bench. Smoke billows from the round black receptacle. We have no lighter fluid. “I need something to block the smoke from my face,” Chief Mate remarks. “What-ho! We have just been given such a face cover from a far distant ally...” “Why are you talking like that?” Chief Mate interrupts. Maybe I was pretending to be King Ezekiel for a second. I’ve got zombies on the brain. Not literally. The meat looks vaguely like brain matter. I try to steer my thoughts elsewhere. I watch the smoke. It may be hours before we eat. But the weather is pleasant, as is the company, and I have absolutely nothing else to do tonight. I don’t mind one bit. Unless there is a zombie sighting. That may put a d...

It’d been two weeks since I started the terrain vehicle. Thought it was time to give the ol’ girl some gas. Besides, we needed provisions pretty badly. A line of locals wrapped itself around the building. Face masks on. Six feet apart. “Excuse me,” I hailed a man retrieving the carts from the parking lot. “How long is the wait to get in?” “About 10-15 minutes,” his smile meant the world to me right then. This was real. Our new reality. Face mask on. Six feet apart. Is the mask on right? Is it inside-out? It’s poking me in the eye. How is that even possible? It’s hard to breathe. I open my mouth. I could probably stand to find a mint. Mouth closed, I wait in cue. It’s funny because I have imagined this moment many times. Not this exact moment, of course, but something similar. End-of-the-world shit. Every time I read history or watch movies, I imagine the scenario in our own world. I am plagued by my empathetic nature. But whenever I imagine war, famine, plague, disease, it’s al...

I didn’t leave the house today. Not once. I read an article a while back that said we as a human race were grieving. Grieving for the world and the loss of human lives. Grieving for the loss of our so-called freedoms. (I am paraphrasing and perhaps sprinkling in my own opinion. I don’t remember the exact words.) The grief is sitting with me again. It’s not negative. Not positive. Just heavy. My school assignments are getting increasingly more difficult to complete. But I force myself to sit at the desk until they are done. It felt good when I finally got biggest one out of the way. Tried not to think about the many other smaller tasks that are due by Monday. Then found my brain counting them anyway. Letting anxiety show it’s ugly face. How dare it? I decided to play with Chief Mate in his Duplo garden. But my ideas are not always welcome. I was handed a guy. I wanted my character to be peacemaker, but “He can’t do that! That’s not his way!” How dare he? I put my guy in timeout an...

Co-Captain and Chief Mate worked on making a sling shot today. He has been instructed not to hit or harm any wildlife. The Inner Child in me loves the sentiment. However, the Inner Beast fully believes we will resort to eating squirrel by June. So ... target practice will calm my instinctual nerves. On a lighter note, I finally got my “snow” (see attached video). Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want or could possibly imagine. And we must adapt anyway. Keep calm and face mask on. END TRANSMISSION

Walking outside is tremendous. Seeing the sun and spring budding everywhere keeps a smile on my face. Spending time with my guys is a blessing. I miss everyone else, though. The weight is heavy and tremendously sad. I get to stop and smell the flowers, but conversations are limited to TMNT megablock storylines and what groceries are still missing from the stores (thank you hoarders). Take a minute today to do something you like. Don’t forget that the little things in life can make the biggest difference. END TRANSMISSION

Walking up and down the aisles of a barren grocery store, I feel disconnected. From what, I can’t quite remember. I push the cart down one row, up the next. They all look the same. The Easter bunnies stare at me. Their adorable eyes mock and tease. Goofy teeth are garish in the fluorescent lighting. I want to squeeze them and bring them home. But I know better. I see dozens of untouched packages of dye for eggs that don’t exist. Seasonal items seem like bric-a-brac these days. Suddenly the aisle begins to shrink. The lighting dims and the grocery store is now a hardware store. Shelves of nails and the pungent and unnatural smell of fertilized soil in a bag. Lo and behold what do I see? A single roll of toilet paper staring at me. It is neatly wrapped in paper. The kind you begrudgingly put on the dispenser while using the restaurant bathroom because no one else will. Suddenly a second roll has appeared on the shelf. I tear up and gently place the two in my cart as if they might disap...

Conversations with Oliver. O: Meh. Captain Mom: Yes? O: Meeeeh. (paw protrudes at my face) CM: You have food. O: Mew. CM: It’s right there. (points to full bowl and food that has avalanched all over the floor) O: Meeooorwr. CM: ... O: (poke, poke) CM: How do your retractable claws not retract? (inspects dot of blood on arm, squeezes it to release bacteria - is that a thing? does that actually work?) O: Merower, mrrrrroooooow, meoooooowh. CM: (carries cat like a baby and places at the food dish) O: (sniffs overflowing bowl, looks up, eyes huge) CM: sigh. (places a solitary treat on the mound) O: (greedily inhales food while purrs erupt between crunches. food spills over the side, a byproduct of gluttony.) CM: (returns to book and thinks about the solitary treat and wasted food. there is symbolism there somewhere) O: (loudly licks his chops and then ever so daintily licks his paws). CM: sigh. O: (tummy rumbles) CM: No, no, no! O: (a guttural) chweth CM: (flies off t...

Please tell me we are not the only household losing our damn minds? Humor me, post something ridiculous that YOU have done. Pics, Poem, Flash Fiction Story, Interpretive Dance, and.... GO! END TRANSMISSION

Solitary Pajamas Apple muffins Cat fur Endless Music Agitation Donutless Numb Erik Estrada are ALL my friends School? Sucks END TRANSMISSION