Summer, here, and we prep for travel

 Well, well, well (again), here we are once more. Me and my imaginary readers. 

Wait. I know you're real and I know how grateful I am for you. Let me pop over to my online Gratefulness Journal to say that.

Back.

My boy Colin is in town from his hometown of choice, Missoula Montana. I am so happy to be in the same room, car, or Nashville venue with this centered, talented, and kind human being. I miss him every day when I am not, but I am happy with his decision to live in that beautiful place. I remember when I lived in Anchorage lo those many years ago I hardly spoke and never saw either of my parents for over 5 years. Thank god that's not the case with either of my magic children. Here's me and Colin at table in our Nations Nashville home:

scott and colin at Chez Merrique, courtesy of Tim Buell

And a pic of both our children, smooching on their beautiful mom, on our paradisial back porch:

Colin, and Miranda Lee smooching mom on Mothers Day

Why do I blog, still, after so long? It should be obvious: blogging provides a consistent wandering ripple throughout my years and helps me clear my head and honor my thoughts and those of others. Look back on some posts, from 2005 on, and see for yourself. Take a look at a short story, my novel (available on Amazon in both Kindle and paperback), my novella, or a post about the future of education, my bailiwick for nearly 30 years, an original song, or jump around for a poem or two. It's all there. As my dear sis-in-law Amy explains to my cherished wife, "It's his book."

That's a simplification, of course, as the blog contains most of my books, but I like it. Many of my links have gone dead, as platforms used for photo sharing, news sites, and other blogs have crapped out and been nullified; but I likely won't take up the goal of revising anything from 18 years ago to present. I prefer to be here now. It's my thing. But a perusal of past posts will reveal some trends and share some good past, and may be of historical use to the alien researchers who follow us. 

These past couple weeks I've been working on an abstract that I am as of yesterday calling finished. Why do so many of these efforts result in color studies and shapes that are full of motion and energy? I don't know, really, but I'm calling this one "terminal ascension," and it may be whatever it may be to you. I see things and suggestions of events and natural phenomena in this piece. My mentor, Charles Brindley, hasn't seen this, as I completed it at home. There is a lot underneath it, and a concentration on tensions of both texture and color, and I had fun with the palette knives and the brushes. I have promised myself to seek some softness and peace in my next abstract, but here is 

"terminal ascension", photo of 16x20 acrylic painting by scott merrick

On the more realistic side, a study of dusk at Cheatham Lake, my preferred local camping waterside, is underway. Charles has helped with this one with cutting insights on contrast and underpainting, along with color mixing suggestions. It's not finished but it is sneaking up on it, a process that is undercut every time I see something new in the iPhoto I took that delicious evening. I want to express calm here. Maybe that's the thing aforementioned: I work for expressing peace in my landscapes and my left-behind work, like "on the inside" and "rocky's ridge from rocky's ridge." Anyway, definitely a WIP, here is 

"dusk @ cheatham lake", photo of a work in progress, acrylics on 16x20 canvas by scott merrick

I'll end with a little humorousity (sic). My dear love-of-my-life was messing around in my studio closet, rearranging things as she will, and this painting on up-cycled scrap treated lumber (a medium I may well revisit) was maybe precariously propped up on the door trip above the closet door. I'm not sure how, but it decided to drop from its perch right on her noggin, falling to the floor. I'm not sure if it broke on her head or on the floor, but break it did. This one doesn't have a name, as is sometimes my wont, but, anyway, I propped it up on the floor and in between the two halves I placed a curio I purchased in a thrift store years ago, an incense burner just tacky enough to have caught my eye. I sort of like the staging and may do some media work to make it a permanent piece. What should I call it?

"untitled", acrylics on treated scrap lumber, by scott merrick

We are journeying overseas in a couple of weeks, for a couple of weeks. We'll be in Spain excepting for one brief outing into France near San Sebastian, staying in only 4 overnight hotels over a period of 17 days, and hopping from one to the other via train and plain. The trip was planned through consultations with the (highly recommended) RH Travel Design here in Nashville, and we are soooooo looking forward to it. It's all upscale accommodations and travel, and we both are expecting, literally, the trip of a lifetime. There are LOTS of food, wine, cultural, and art experiences built in along the way, along with ample down time to explore or just relax together. I'll be documenting, most likely, but don't hold me to that, and don't expect anything while it's underway. I plan to be here now, there, in my most present ways. Think good thoughts about safe travel for us--we are all in. 

For all the slum bag lurker thieves out there, our good friends Matt and Anitra will be staying here with our killer dog Watson, and the NCA alarm system will be in use. Don't even think about it.

To everyone else, regardless of your politics or any other enlightened or misguided beliefs, I hope your days will be good and that you will remain safe and well and alive as we roll around the center of the planet and circle around the good ol' sun.

Scheduliberated!

 Happy birthday to me, celebrating 72 trips around Old Sol. AND happy retirement, only 2 days away as I write. I want to say a few things about retirement, or rather about the generally accepted social descriptor for it: "retired."

Thinking about actually being it, I began letting friends and colleagues know my plans a month or two ago. It took a good long while to jump through the hoops a "retiree" needs to master, but I was generally feeling pretty darned good about it all. Then I began noticing:  Nearly everyone who discusses it with me brings a number of negative connotations into our communication. 

"What are you going to do?" "Won't you be bored?" "You'll be looking for a part-time job, won't you?" "I'd be so bored." Or, from several folks' personal experience, "I got tired of sitting around at home, so I got this job/volunteered here. It keeps me busy." That's the  story I have heard from a tenured now 120 day former retiree in my school, from a clerk in a liquor store in Chattanooga, and from a dear man who brings meals to my school (soon my former school) on a weekly basis. I am certain that I'll hear it again.

Well. My dear old daddy used to tell us whiney boys, "If you're bored it's your own damned fault." Really, he did. And I took it to heart, I guess. 

1. I will not be looking for a part-time job. Or a full-time job.
2. I do not get bored. 
3. I love my home and keeping it a nice place to be (which is work, by the way). 
4. And I will be just as busy as I want to be. I'll fish, I'll write, I'll get better at my mandolin and my guitar and my  bass guitar. I'll draw and paint. I'll spend more time enjoying my life with its one true love, Lee Ann; I'll be more available to my beautiful children--Miranda and Tim and Colin and Kat; I'll explore Tennessee; I'll travel frequently/ I'll, I'll, I'll...God knows what, you can bet if it's interesting I'll be doing it.

What is a way to refer to retirement that does not drag in all the negatives? 

A search for synonyms at Thesaurus.com yields 29 synonyms for "retired." These are arranged in three tabs for one's viewing pleasure, according to that respectable resource. The next time a new aquaintance asks me the most common question any adult asks a new aquaintance, "What to you do do?," how do you think I might reply? Should I choose to respond with one of these? 

• The first tab is "adj. having withdrawn from active life." Ow. Its examples are:
• elderly
• resigned
• superannuated
• emeritus, emerita (I kind of like that one)
• in retirement
• The second is "adj. having been withdrawn, with
• detached
• removed
• secluded
• sequestered
• apart
• isolated
• retreated
• seperated
• withdrawn
• distant
• The third? "adj. done working"
• discharged
• humble
• sequestered
• withdrawn
• inactive
• retiring
• immured
• shy
• cidevant
• otiose
• cloistered
• secluded
• superannuated
• emeritus
• unfrequented

What the hell does "otiose" mean, anyway? Further investigation brings up "idle," "indolent," "listless," and "slothful" as synonyms for otiose. Dig this: its definition at Dictionary.com is 

adjective

1. being at leisure; idle; indolent.
2. ineffective or futile.
3. superfluous or useless.

So friends, I'm over it. That may be a little odd, since, really, I'm just beginning it. But here, I'm coining a word. Right here, right now. Ready?

New acquaintance: "So, what do you do?"

Me. "Oh, I'm(image from cooltext.com).

There. And, from my dear friends Matt amd Anitra, a birthday treat:

Covid song 1--I made this up on a dog walk

and recorded it on my iPhone Voice Memo app. Cleaned it up a little with Garage Band. I'm working on some songs for a COVID-19 album. I know. That's crazy. Listen to this, an Irish pub song:

Godforsaken

Whistle while you listen. Even better, record your whistling in any kind of .mp3 track and I'll mix it in. Or sing along to it and record that. Be good to have a dozen or so out of tune but enthusiastic voices.

A Personal Post: My Stellar Children!

I don't do "personal" on my blog much, or at least beyond the fact that I take my teaching and my learning very personally ;)...

However, last night at the annual USN High School Cabaret Night my two children, Colin and Miranda, banded together onstage (in a rare inclusion of a 6th grader into a High School performance evening) to sing a song they wrote together. I gotta share. Their performance was introduced by a skit about the songwriting performed by the evening's spectacularly funny trio of emcees; so Miranda takes the opportunity to clear the air just before 12 year old Colin hits the first chord to start the song. When he does, a funny thing happens.

I'm sooo proud of my urchins, pleased with Colin's progress in voice guitar (he's more accomplished at 12 than I was at 16!) and, as always, proud and amazed at my daughter's voice. Her instrument is her voice, and she plays a mean piano as well. Here's a promo picture of Miranda, flanked by two of our talented HS Chorus' young men:

Listen to "Without You," by Colin Merrick and Miranda Merrick, unveiled in public at University School the evenin' of April 3, 2008. Enjoy!

Miranda also performed a favorite of mine, Stardust, accompanied by Ben Easton on grand piano, then led the chorus into a beautiful rendition of Somewhere, from West Side Story. My audio may not be the best in the world, but my daughter is. Not that I'm biased. Enjoy...