If we're talking painting, then it would be Gil Elvgren.  He could paint women in sexy way, in an understated idealized way, that wasn't exploitive or degrading (to my eye) fashion.  They looked like the girl next door, and there's a sense of innocence in his paintings.

Other artists I like quite a lot include Mike Worley (also a nice guy), Rick Stasi, Charles M. Russell (I have a glorious print of his work that hangs in our living room), Will Eiser, r stevens, my Great-Grandmother (scads of her works on our walls), and the cross-stitch work of both my Wife and my Mother-in-Law.  When they complete a project, and frame it, it's beautiful to behold.

In a completely different vein, Friend of he Blog, Jade does some compelling and interesting work.  She says a lot in her work, using a minimum of colors.  I find it evocative and quite beautiful.

As I can't paint anything beyond a cabinet, that would be fun to learn.  I'd also like to leave some lasting contribution to the world of literature.  Doesn't matter what form it takes.  That will grow out of  my writing, I hope.

I also believe that being a friend is an art of some sort.  The artistry of love, trust and belief in somebody is priceless, in my estimation.

Not being an Artsy Craftsy kinda guy, this is a bizarre question to answer.  However, I do maintain a scrapbook of Sports Stadium postcards from around the country.  Football and Baseball stadiums, mostly.  I've been accumulating the postcards for years, and my wife gave me the scrapbook for this past Christmas.  It was a fun few days arranging and mounting the cards, along with a few ticket stubs.  Makes a nice way to keep them all together and presentable.

I wrote this short story years ago about a woman figuring out that her beloved mother had used her father, who everyone thought had abandoned the family, as fertilizer for her award winning tomatoes.  It was one of those things that really seemed like a good idea at the time.

How would I make it better?  Put that idea back and try something else.  That's how...

I made a bowl out of clay for my mother when I was in the 6th grade.  I painted (quite poorly) the same design as Captain America's sheild on the inside of the bowl.  I've not a blue clue in the world what happened to it since she died. 

I don't guess that building furniture that came in a box counts for much does it

That presumes that I am loyal to any particular brands.

Sometimes it's something simple, like a chance comment or question.  It gets me to thinking and the answers or thoughts gush and flow, then coaslasce into something that makes sense to me.  Other times it can come from something I read or watch on television and my mind wanders and the juices start flowing again.  Typically with questions that are preceeded with, "What if..." and away we go.

I'm already grown up.  I'd like to be less so.  More in touch with my inner child and regain that sense of wonder of the world around me.  I'd also like to be able to see my feet without leaning forward again.

I sing in the car all the time.  I found myself doing that on the Gold Wing as well, which could be very embarrassing if somebody actually heard me straining to hit the high notes of some song by Styx.  (shudder)

The last time I sang in public was for my Father-in-law's funeral.  He asked me, shortly before he died, if I would do that for him.  I was so touched and honored.  I really loved the guy, so it was easy to say yes, but hard to actually do when the day came.  Still, I made it through with only a small hiccup.

The song?  The old hymn, "In the Garden" was what he requested.

That's such a hard question.  Not because I can't think of any great songs that have personal meaning or bring back evocative feelings, it's mainly because it's such a fluid thing.  It changes, like I do, over the years.  I guess you could look at my Last.fm profile and get a sense of what I've been listening to over the past 18 months or so, but it's not representative of the soundtrack of my life.  I have a list of albums that fall under that category, and I am much more of an album listener than a singles listener.  Have been for donkey's years, I guess.  That old AOR radio coming back to bite me, I suppose.  Still, even that album list is hardly what I listen to a lot these days.  They are old, dear friends and when I listen to them, it's like a reunion with a past self or time.  That, or I play it loud as hell...(LOL!)

Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" is the perfect album from start to finish.  But, since I like a lot of variety, even it would wear out after a time.  This is a nigh impossible question to answer, when you get right down to it.  AUGH!

It is a large poster-sized print of the Katy Railroad, taken by Bob Lindhom, not long before the rail line was abandoned and converted to a State Park.  It was taken from the bluffs overlooking the rail line along the Missouri River west of Columbia, MO with the Missouri River Bridge crossing the river.  It is a treasured gift from some very dear friends.  They gave it to me for Christmas, back in 1987.  It has held a place of honor in every place I've lived since then.  It's been a source of comfort and more than a token of the season.  It was and remains a source of inspiration and the value of friendship.  These same friends spent this past Christmas with us and will always be welcome.  They are friends we choose to call family.

Oh hell, that's easy.  I'm just a big fat tub of goo, so hand me the camera and let me take your picture.  Of course, that could change in a years time...

For me, it would have to be a photo taken of my maternal Grandfather on the bridge of a cruise ship.  There he stands, with a captain's hat jauntily positioned on his head, with a small smile.  What struck me then, and still does, it the look of relaxation.  Grandad seldom relaxed and I believe it was one of those things he never quite learned to do well.  He'd worked since he was around 7 years old, and if he wasn't working, he was thinking about working, or worrying over something.  Relaxing seemed to be a foriegn concept to him.  Except in this one photograph.  I don't know if it's my favorite photograph, but it does belong in the top 10, at least.

I don't know where I'll actually be, but I'd still like to be married to my wife.  I don't see why that won't happen as we get along very well, and I truly think she's a lovely and wonderful woman.  God forbid that she'd get tired of me or something...

The other thing I'd like to see happen is an improvement in the relationship with my daughter, which would bring me great joy.

This blog was originally started for a simple reason, one which is no longer relevant. Truth be told, I almost forgot it was around. Sad, huh? I think so.

I had wanted to get back to some sort of regular blogging/journaling/diary/whatever you want to call it, but family pressures interfered. The demands on my time as my Grandmother was dying were too much for me to actually think about any online writing, nor did I do any real world writing to speak of. After Grandma passed, a spiral of depression followed and I did little of any creative nature or worth in the time after that. Which is a shame as I did some fairly interesting (to me, at least) and fun things. Pity that I didn't write about my trip to L.A. to visit Brian or heading to San Diego from there with Eddie. Or our three trips to Ohio to visit family or heading to Chicago to visit friends from California who were traveling there.

There's also the purchase of two motorcycles this past year and some trips around the state, and the celebration of 9 years of marriage to my wonderful wife, watching our dear friends pass the 30 year milestone of wedded bliss and watching the nieces and nephews get older.

As the depression recedes (thanks to medication), I feel the need to write again. It's almost a compulsion, to be honest. As I was looking at the Livejournal site, trying to reacquaint myself with things, I saw the question about guilty pleasures. I decided to answer that as a writing exercise and to flex some of those unused skills. Already, I see things I would've done differently.

I guess nobody is ever satisfied with their writing, are they?

I have two I'm not crazy about admitting to. Especially in public. Since nobody reads this, what the hell...

1. Neil Diamond would be the musical guilty pleasure. I know that way back in the '60's he could rock your AM radio to pieces, and do it well, he fell into psuedo Vegas schlockdom in the mid-70's. And he's mined that particular area fairly well ever since. Still, there's a nauseatingly endearing quality to such treacle as "Hello, Again" and "Forever in Blue Jeans" and "Heartlight" that's hard to deny or ignore.

2. The Waltons TV show is equally treacly in places, and for poor folks, they had a lot of house and other things. Granted, it was a tough time and all, but it still seemed a bit far-fetched at times. In the beginning of the series, Olivia wasn't at all a sympathetic character, although she did grow as the series progressed. At least when she was on the show, that is. Still, it gave me a look at a family dynamic that wasn't present in my home, that I desperatly wanted to have. It still brings back warm feelings of fleeting times of well-being and comfort from my younger days.