The Picaro Life

Plant & Bird - A Japanese Sumi Painting

2011-10-31T08:59:00.010-04:00

For Sale
Plant & Bird - A Japanese Sumi Painting
Giclee print, 8.5" x 11
Limited edition

Signed by artist

For the New Reader...

If you are new to the blog, under the Pages section on the right is The First Entry. All of the art and photography shown here is of my own creation. Please also visit my web site, ZoeMargo where you can see samples of my commercial work and fine art and order prints.

I am, I suppose, the quintessential artist - loved, ignored, in terrible health and poorly paid. Anyone who feels compelled to help us can do so by clicking the link under Pages named The Picaro Life Sustainment Fund. Comments of a complimentary nature are always a pleasant surprise.

The View From My Eyes

2011-08-06T04:10:00.008-04:00

For sale....
Fort Pierce, Florida

Giclee print, 8.5" x 11"

Limited edition

Signed by artist

This week I saw a neurologist at The Center for Neurosciences. There are about a thousand medical Centers in Tucson, I've never seen anything like it.

I am trying not to get worked up, anxious and depressed about the neurologist's prognosis. We looked at the x-ray of my neck and right away we saw the problem. Plus I have ''brisk reflexes" which does not augur well for my spine. The next step is the MRI procedure.

The idea of going though my fourth surgery is daunting, but. I am staying focused by reading P.G. Wodehouse novels and stories.

The Weather Statement

2011-07-07T01:59:00.067-04:00

July 6, 2011

This is the sort of photograph that makes me think I'm a pretty decent photographer. Abra is such a beautiful cat. I don't think I'd have stayed alive if he hadn't come along. This is a creature with character, intuition and a great sense of adventure.
It is long and hot days here in Tucson. I don't know how anyone can work outside when it's 114 degrees. When it comes down to it, however much we believe we are in control of our destinies, we still can't control the weather. That's why as long as I am here, I am glad that I am basically an indoor person with night owl tendencies who considers air conditioning as the penultimate human invention throughout all time.

The Laggard Blogger

2011-06-18T05:25:00.038-04:00

June 18, 2011 Tuscon, AZ

I am becoming a laggard blogger. TIME IS A WIZARD. Not a bad title for a short story.
I put this collage together in late January of 2010. We were west of Baton Rouge, Louisiana at a rest stop. The nights were cold.
I had gone right by New Orleans, just missed every turnoff, and came upon a visitor center at the edge of Atchafalaya National Wildlife Refuge/Bayou on Route 10. We spent more time than I thought because Abra chose that night to go hunting and didn't come back until morning. So I sat in the Visitor Center building and played with pictures. Finally, Abra returned unscathed, and we trundled on.
We actually drove past Houston and spent the night in a parking lot in a town called Katy. Then I decided it was simply too cold to go through Texas with about thirty dollars in cash - I knew I'd just get sick having to sleep in the car. So I turned around and went back to Florida, staying several nights in the southeast corner of New Orleans, due to the generosity of an unusual woman of impeccable taste named Ida. She is the reason I ended up in Tucson. I had no idea I'd still be here this long. We have had some good fortune here. Bad fortune, also but for me, that's a given. I've had two different shrinks tell me I have the worst luck of anyone they had ever met.
I met with a psychologist a few days ago, to discuss how insane I might in fact be and if it was enough to merit becoming a recipient of federal disability. She said she would diagnose me as a major depressive. I don't know that I am really all that depressed at this point. The word that comes to mind is tired, just bone tired. I continue to hope for the best in regards to achieving some comfortable level of financial stability. All of these physical problems are just plain tiring. One would think that after twenty-five years of chronic pain, I'd be so used to it that it would become negligible.

But here is something nice. I had a note from a man who wrote on my Facebook page.

"I'm not prone to flowery allocades, but you do wonderful work. All art forms require both a good eye and sensitivity....you have both, and the added ability to translate what you feel and see into something the rest of us wish we could. For that, I thank you."

Jumble Mentality

2011-06-02T06:00:00.003-04:00

For sale....

Tucson Palms at Sunset
Giclee print, 8.5" x 11"

Limited edition

Signed by artist

There is a road here named River Road, which runs adjacent to a river but there is no water in it.

Still, the palm trees have such a pretty silhouette.

I am in a bit of a mental jumble over a recent medical diagnosis. In 2001, I had surgery to fix two blown cervical spine discs in my neck, which used a titanium plate to hold things together. This was about nine months after a surgery to address a lumbar disc problem.
A recent x-ray indicates that the screws used to attach the plate to my spine have backed out some. And now another disc is in the process of herniating. The solution, if it's warranted is surgery.

Her Name is Enough

2011-05-14T21:06:00.053-04:00

May 18, 2011 Tucson, Arizona

Even at the age of eight, I felt a sardonic incredulity towards the world around me. I did like the Brownies, as it got me out of the house. I actually went to summer camp. Everyone but me got a nickname. Those in charge said the name Zoe was so unusual, why bother?
Here's something else unusual. I have a huge vitamin D deficiency - known in children as as rickets and in adults as osteomalacia. I may well be the only human being in Arizona who doesn't get enough sunlight. I am also seriously anemic and am perhaps developing hypertension. Add that to my already chronic pain from degenerative discogenic disease and a multi-layered form of clinical depression, it is remarkable that I function at all.

Abra x 3

2011-05-07T03:45:00.005-04:00

Sunday, May 15, 2011
   Abra, Abra, Abra, alive and kicking. We have a new routine. Every afternoon or evening he wants to go for walk. In order to apprise me of his desire, he starts slinking around, and talking away. He eventually goes to the door, and makes as much ruckus as he can. When I don't come to him immediately, he comes and looks at me and then he really starts honking. He really is quite pushy.
   I then find his leash - a new building rule - someone complained about his lying around in the hallway and running rampant in the yard so now we have to wear a leash when we go out. The neighbors think it's hysterical. He has adapted to it okay, so I clip it on and we go outside. Here, he varies the routine.
   Sometimes, we walk and he is just sniffing out the perimeter. Then he likes to find a place to lie around and also do his little twist and shout routine while I try to keep him from strangling himself. Then as a whim, he will start running, literally pulling me along behind him.
   At some point, we often come upon one or two of the stray cats who live on the property. Everyone freezes and sits - or in my case, stands. Usually the cat runs off. Then we come back home.

Panic is Simply Not Good for the Nerves

2011-05-03T03:46:00.004-04:00

Tuesday, May 3, 2011
   The apartment has a small closet which houses the water heater. Yesterday morning, at around 7:00am, I was awakened by the sound of Abra groaning, moaning, god it was awful.
   He had somehow gotten the door open, jumped onto the top of the water heater, then fallen into the space behind it, head down and was wedged in, with no space to maneuver himself out.
   I tried to reach over the brass hoses to pull him out, but could not. I ran next door to my neighbor, Anita, asking her did she have anything I could use to pull him out, but she didn't, but she joined me. I called 911, but the operator said the police could not help; I think she connected me to an animal rescue facility, who could not help, but directed me to someone who said he would come for sixty dollars - that's what it costs to rescue a pet. I said, just come, and then I really cannot be clear, but I somehow pulled myself over the top and through the hoses and grabbed onto his fur, and then he was free.
   Survival. It is just terrifying to be up against a barrier, knowing that my poor boy won't get free without me. My nerves are shot. His, too.

Beautiful Men

2011-05-02T05:18:00.015-04:00

Monday, May 1, 2011
   This is a watercolour painting with digital effects I made after seeing the British actor, Clive Owen, in the movie, King Arthur in about 2005. In it, he plays a rather naive Arthur, but he was very energetic and looked quite the stunner on a horse. Since then he has been busy portraying somewhat jaded characters in films such as I'll Sleep When I'm Dead, Sin City, Closer, Inside Man and Children of Men. He cries beautifully and loves shooting guns. I cannot think of another actor who has shot so many people in his films since John Wayne, who was another one who loved shooting everybody in sight.
   King Arthur also showcased a British actress, Keira Knightly, who was remarkable as a nearly naked Guinevere in freezing weather shooting her bow and arrows with divine effect. It is probably what brought her into the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, in which she is equally impressive wielding a sword.
   Tonight, I learned with the rest of the world, that we finally killed Osama bin Ladin, who had apparently spent his sneaky declining years living nicely in a mansion in Pakistan.
     What is it with evil? So many evil people always seem to enjoy the best living circumstances. It is very annoying.

Oh Baudelaire, where have you gone?

2011-05-01T08:05:00.013-04:00

Sunday, April 30, 2011

I have been reading Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire, who writes,

"Today I felt pass over me a breath of wind from the wings of madness."

This is someone I'd have really
enjoyed getting to meet, .

Oh Marlon

2011-05-01T08:01:00.001-04:00

Sunday, April 30,2011

This is a watercolor I painted while watching On the Waterfront, with Marlon Brando and Eva Marie Saint.
In it, Brando, an ex boxer who throws a fight, tells his brother. "I could have been a contender."
   Two other lines always come to mind when I think of Brando.
   There is his remarkable and unforgettable cry, standing in the street in front of his apartment, yelling, "Stella! Stella!" in A Streetcar Named Desire.
   The last is at the end of Apocalypse Now, when he
is buried up to his head in mud, calling out softly. "The horror, the horror."
   Martin Sheen, who played the lead, actually had a heart attack while making the movie, leaving Brando and Francis Ford Coppolla to sit around grousing about how they were never going to get out of the Philippines.

Dancing Shadow Plant

2011-03-30T03:25:00.001-04:00

Wednesday, March 30, 2011
   Today is the anniversary of my grandmother's death. In Greek, the word for grandmother is Yaya. Emphasis on the second syllable.
   She was the only glimpse of normalcy during a childhood wracked with the terror of living with my mother, her daughter, Erofily. Yaya wasn't a happy woman, but she was kind. When I was a kid, she was always calling to me, " Ella, ella!" "Come! Come!"
   The image on the left is of a carved wooden stamp for marking the top of baked bread. It is the only thing I have that was hers. It is on the kitchen counter. I touch it every day.
   The photographic image below, I don't know exactly what it is. I remember the plants and the shadows, but I cannot place the ground. I know it looks like steps, but it is not steps. It reminds me of her. She is literally, the only person in my life who was always happy to see me.
   I suppose that doesn't speak particularly well of me as a person, but to tell the truth, I don't really care at this point. I have never been a very big fan of the human race. I'll take the company of Abra any day.

In the Woods

2011-03-28T02:43:00.001-04:00

March 26, 2011
   Last night, with no warning, Abra began crawling across the floor and vomiting. He could not get up on his hind legs, and kept turning his head from left to right, with such fear on his face, it made me weep in helplessness.
   After several minutes, he stopped vomiting and trying to move, and we lay on the floor together and for a few hours, I felt my powerlessness as I contemplated life without this beautiful creature, and how essentially, nothing about life is safe, and nothing about loss is beautiful.
   He is better today.

Who is Boss?

2011-03-23T02:35:00.003-04:00

March 24, 2011
   It's been a tough couple of days. The car battery died, the car had to be towed and equipped with a new one, and there goes the phone payment.
   This is what I have learned about car batteries in Arizona. According to the towing master, "Year, year and a half, tops, I don't care how much it cost, they're all toast. The dry air just sucks the life right out of them."
   Then today, I attempted to try out a harness and leash with Abra. We managed to get out of the apartment, but after crawling for three steps, he collapsed to the floor and lay their lollygagging until I gave up and we came back inside.
   There is nothing worse than having a cat look at you like you are so unbelievably mean and fall so below his expectation that his mind is boggled by your inhumanity.
   Last night we noticed a new stray dog in the courtyard. There is quite the menagerie out there. There are people here that feed them, and at least it's warm most of the time.

Narrow Horizons

2011-03-20T04:18:00.004-04:00

March 20, 2011 Tucson, Arizona

Here is Abra, hunter and gatherer. It is difficult for him here as this is the first place we've lived where he cannot run around outside on his own. I believe I mentioned that we take strolls through the halls late at night. He also has chosen to lounge around in the hallway outside of our door, where he is king of a rather bare domain. He occasionally strolls from one end to the other, thinking god knows what narcissistic thoughts.
   Christopher Buckley is an an American writer who reminds me a lot of PG Wodehouse, the British comic novelist, author of the Jeeves the Butler and Bertie Wooster books. Buckley's novel, Thank You for Smoking was made into a film a few years ago.
   I am reading his book, Supreme Courtship about the machination of Washington political intrigue - and the laughable yet scary ways people use power. This is from the book:
   "I've got principles. And if you don't like them, I've got other principles."

The Nuclear Power Has Arrived

2011-03-17T04:13:00.061-04:00

March 17, 2011 Tucson, Arizona
Here is a statement and should have been an award winning winning quote out of the past from President Ronald Reagan when he was fighting off the green environmentalists. He said, "All the waste in a year from a nuclear power plant can be stored under a desk." One can only hope for the sake of Japan that he was correct.
Off and on over the years, I have spent enormous amounts of time and silver in the study of the Japanese sumi watercolor technique. There are very expensive special brushes and special papers and special paints involved. Also, one is supposed to bring one's reflective side to the surface. My attempts in the past were unsuccessful, but I've been working with a magic marker brush from a Japanese company named Coric Sketch and da la! This was done on a little 3" x 3" canvas and I like it very much.

My Darling Boy

2011-03-10T06:24:00.026-05:00

Sunday, March 11, 2011

I don't think it is presumptuous to define Abra as a deep thinker.

   This may not be his exact words, but at the recent World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, Bill Clinton said something that I -and Abra, of course - found interesting. He said, "In the past two hundred years, nobody has made money by betting against America."
   I always liked Clinton. He has a very bright mind. Also, I actually made money when he was president. Whatever else you can say about Bill Clinton, he and Al Gore did a remarkable thing - they balanced the budget.
   I remember seeing Al on David Letterman, promoting the crusade to cut government spending, when he demonstrated a wasteful federal mandate by bludgeoning an ashtray with a hammer. This was his Top Ten List describing the good things about being vice president.
10. Police escorts get you to the movies faster.
9. I got to play tetherball with the inventor of tetherball.
8. After they sign a bill, there's lots of free pens.
7. If you close your left eye, the seal on the podium reads: President of the United States.
6. I get intellectual property rights to my speeches.
5. Dan Quayle and Gerald Ford are easy to beat during vice presidents week on Jeopardy.
4. You don't have to be funny to get invited on the Letterman show.
3. You get all the french fries the president can't get to.
2. You don't have to be a good speller to get the job.
1. Secret Service code name: Buttafuoco.

The Town That Keeps on Giving

2011-03-06T02:37:00.007-05:00

Saturday, March 5, 2011

This photo just knocks me out. I'm working on updating my web site to include it and others shown in recent posts for sale as prints and greeting cards.
I must say that if one happens to be an artist suffering from mental illness, Tucson is not a bad place to be. I have been fortunate to become involved with the Cafe 54 Foundation. It's website is www.cafe54.org

   This is directly from their home page:
     "Café 54 Art Foundation was established to provide and assist individuals recovering from mental illness the opportunity to express themselves through the creative arts. All tips from the Café and the Café’s catering business go to the Art Foundation Fund.
   This funding is available to any individual who is recovering from mental illness, currently working with a Behavioral Health Program who shows a desire to express themselves through the creative arts. Local businesses, Sarnoff’s Art and Framing and Barb’s Frame of Mind have partnered with Café 54 to furnish art supplies, framing and matting at a discount to the program for the artists.... The individual is gifted art supplies in order to create new artworks. Upon invitation, individual works of art are selected to be showcased in the Café for sale."

What this means for me is that every other month, I get to pick one hundred dollars of supplies. Yesterday, I visited Sarnoff's, where they have come to know me well, given that it takes me anywhere from several hours to several days to decide what I want. It's such a remarkable gift and I want to be certain that the supplies I pick are absolutely neccessary will be well used. I got brands which I have never tried including a set of 15 prote'ge' brushes ($40) , an 18 tube set of Koi Watercolors ($40) and an Ampersand 18'"x 24'"aquaboard, which is an 1/8th" textured clayboard ($20). This is the reason artists starve - prices for supplies are prohibitive. What I picked is on the low range of the curve. A 24 ml tube of watercolor paint can cost twenty dollars all by itself.

Heading for a Horizon

2011-03-01T05:40:00.006-05:00

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Tucson, AZ

I took this picture while Abra and I were driving from Arizona to California last October. Such pretty colors, sweeping down to night in the desert.

We are beginning our third month at Western Winds Apartments. It is a three story building, we are on the second floor. At about ten o'clock at night, we take a stroll through the halls, up stairs, down stairs. It gives Abra the chance to run like a devil horse through the corridors. The exercise makes him very happy. His happiness makes me laugh.

The Rollover Cat

2011-02-26T04:41:00.004-05:00

Saturday, February 26, 2011

   Who could not love this cat? Look at those legs! Look at those eyes! This is the Mr. Charmaloosa of cats.
   I am curious about Abra's thought processes. what the world is to him. What is interesting about our relationship is that we are constantly surprised by one another.
   I believe I mentioned before how nosy he is. If I have something in my hand, he has to see what it is and what smell it emanates. I think he wants me to know that whatever is mine, is his.

Right Out of the Blue

2011-02-22T04:52:00.008-05:00

February 22, 2011 - TUCSON, AZ

I am amazed by the shakeup in the middle east. I came across an article about Gene Sharp, who wrote a book on how to peacefully dissolve a dictatorship, published in 1993,which has and is being used by the disenfranchised far and wide. It is called From Dictatorship to Democracy, fascinating, really.

Now I know I'm just an artist, with a limited capacity to think beyond my own sense of reality, but from that standpoint, I must say that the world around me makes very little sense. All of a sudden, half of a continent has gotten up enormous courage and commitment and it appears that democracy actually is an ideal worth dying for. I have my suspicions, and my conclusion is that this has been Hillary's secret in the sand. She's been awfully quiet for a Clinton.

Right now, all of my courage is wrapped up in believing in myself and my abilities as an artist when it looks like my talent just isn't resulting in enough renumeration to hang a hat on.

Still, as long as it's in the middle of the night - my depression is terrible when I first arise - I remain steadfast in the belief that one day, I will become as famous as any other famous person.
I have been brooding over the realization that Oprah, Jennifer and Ellen are, like me, Aquarians. I've been writing to Oprah for years, keeping her updated on my comings and goings, but she, unlike President Obama, (see my February 1oth entry) apparently does not read her mail. It may be time to focus on Ellen. She is awfully upbeat, I wonder if she is a secret depressive.

Home Sweet Home

2011-02-14T01:13:00.006-05:00

February 16, 2011 - TUCSON, AZ
It is beginning to sink in that after eighteen months of being on a pretty frightening edge, I actually have a home again. It is a lovely feeling. No one to try and please but Abra. Here is our view and Abra looking over our first plant.

Update a Birthday

2011-02-12T00:41:00.007-05:00

February 12, 2011 - TUCSON, AZ
   Today is my birthday, a date I share with Charles Darwin and Abraham Lincoln. One would think that in such august company, I'd be able to keep my phone from disconnection, but despite all of my best efforts, success is a story I still cannot tell. There is money out there, of this I am sure. I just can't seem to get my hands on enough to float above the poverty level.
   In the movie. High Society, one of the characters says," This is the sort of day history tells us is better spent in bed." Abra wholeheartedly agrees.

A Letter from the President

2011-02-10T06:20:00.013-05:00

February 10, 2011 - TUCSON, AZ

There are times when I am taken by surprise, as I was when I recently received an email from Barack Obama, or 'Obo' as I like to call him, which was responding to a note from me.
As I have written Obo on several occasions, I cannot be certain of my thoughts on that particular day - I also called at the White House at about 6:00 am last summer and cried all over the receptionist. I asked her to put me through to him, but she said she couldn't do that.

   Here is my question: did he actually read one of my letters or not? Is his response a version of a standard script his in-house writers devise and send out to his constituents? One of my letters included this very nice portrait I did of him, but he does not mention it.
   I think what bothers me about Obama is that despite his gift for compassionate rhetoric, ultimately he is a wealthy man who hasn't got a clue about poverty in the 21st century. This is something he said during the presidential campaign:

     "When you think like this – when you choose to broaden your ambit of concern and empathize with the plight of others, whether they are close friends or distant strangers – it becomes harder not to act; harder not to help."
     If one believes in helping the poor and disadvantaged, one has to say it pretty loud and keep saying it. Obama has lost his voice and seems to rely on the premise that given time, things will be alright. But this is no time for the quiet, strong man.

I cannot say what it is that a president does day in and day out, but what I'm hoping he does is figure out how to govern in such a way that things actually get done.

   He talks to every member of Congress until he is blue in the face, he asks each of them, on camera to explain why if they can afford a stylist, there are members of their constituency who cannot afford a pair of shoes.
   The ultimate irony of today's world is that it is the obscenely wealthy who keep complaining about how bad the economy is. It is the fact that the 'billionaire' is now status quo. I don't understand why they are criticizing an economy that has served them so well.
   One has to be willing to provoke and shame the greedy face to face, publicly and without reservation. You sit down with the Newt's and the Sarah's of the world, live on YouTube and NBC and ask them how the economy's been treating them lately. You ask them when was the last time they couldn't buy food for their children? Is it their mother who's pension was gobbled up by that bizarre entity, 'Wall Street', shivering in some Walmart doorway, trying to act welcoming to customers while she's so worn out she can hardly keep from falling over?
   If you want people to understand poverty, you actually show poverty, right here in America, day after day, even create a reality show if that is what it takes, and stop pretending that saying 'oh woe, I understand the suffering of the poor but just be patient' is enough. Not when unemployment remains at a robust 9.4%. You send your people to check in with Oprah and Jon and the View and Rush, that tremendously popular Republican and one time Speaker of the House who had to resign because his ethics were questionable. You send them there to let Americans know what exactly is being done for them today.
   If you want to be a man of the people, you don't generate even a rumor that you will propose steep cuts in the government's energy assistance fund for low-income Americans, not while the first lady is wearing six hundred dollar shoes. You don't ever think you are doing a good job while the elderly freeze and children cannot afford their school lunch. Ever.

Green Grass in Tucson

2011-02-10T06:09:00.008-05:00

January 25, 2011
TUCSON, AZ
   We are still in Tucson. Although today the politics creating a determination to persecute the Hispanic community here and then the horrific Safeway murders on the 8th have Tucson, Arizona down as perhaps the most reviled location in recent history, you really cannot beat the winter weather, which is no winter at all. Sixty to seventy degrees, sunny, dry, very pleasant.
   Here is some very good news. Abra and I have moved into a lovely apartment in the northwest corner of Tucson. It overlooks a courtyard with actual green grass, watered daily and deciduous trees, the first I've seen since I got here.
   Who knew mental dysfunction could offer a route for my survival? La Frontera is a state funded outpatient mental health facility here. I went there in the summer to ask for their help getting my meds and after a long interview, I was given a diagnosis as' A Person with Severe Mental Illness. ' It was rather disconcerting because I have always assumed that although my depression is real, and I have to take medication, that others just don't see it as being that bad and my failure to function and maintain relationships of any sort is a big fat lie I have made up to avoid supporting myself. In this dichotomy of life, I am also told that I am too hard on myself.
   The SMI diagnosis made me able to qualify for Section 8 federally, funded housing and the state has been giving me food stamps and health benefits. Arizona takes mental health seriously, except for when it comes to cash, which is difficult because it is necessary to have means to pay for electricity, telephone, internet and gas - almost $3 a gallon! I keep scrambling about, marketing my prints and cards and web design, sending out links to the blog and my website but it is very tough. I am receiving temporary help from my sisters and my niece, which none of them can really afford, and I am waiting for my application to receive an income from the federal disability program to finish processing.
   The picture of the angels in my courtyard is a combination of photography and design with photography software. I've labeled it photo art. It will soon be added to my ZoeMargo website in the prints and cards for sale section.

Computers Are Artists, Too

2010-12-17T17:16:00.007-05:00

This is one of the things I can do using the computer as a brush. It is one of the reasons computer technologies have grabbed hold of my attention - the possibilities of changing and modifying images are endless.

Abra and I have been given our walking papers, and are to be out of our present refuge by December 24th.

Please do buy some prints and cards from my website, ZoeMargo. There is still time before Christmas. We need gas and Abra wants his Fancy Feast. He has also become very fond of a Whiskas product called Temptations Milk treats.

It is incredible, how long he is. And getting quite heavy, but who could not adore this creature. As a matter of fact, he's been invited by our hosts to stay, but sorry, this is one creature I cannot do without. Also, it would break his little heart as he, at least adores me.

Help Her Help Them

2010-12-16T03:07:00.006-05:00

A young woman named Casey Feldman was killed last summer when she walked across the street and was hit by a car driven by someone not paying attention to the road. It is a sad story. She collected stray animals and volunteered at homeless shelters. The site is www.caseyfeldmanfoundation.com

Out of Tucson, Once Again

2010-12-01T02:04:00.002-05:00

Our presence in this particular household has run its course. Over the next few weeks I will pack up the car and as far as I know, drive away from Tucson. I am vague about the direction we will head, except to say it probably will not be east.

Still in Tucson

2010-11-28T22:22:00.003-05:00

I never imagined that I would spend so much time in Tucson, but here we are. Abra and I have been staying with a couple who take in stray cats and dogs. They have six cats and six dogs and us. It has been tough for us, all of the navigating and accommodating. The tabby is Sunny and he and Abra often are together outside. In the photos, Sunny is very comfortable showing his opinion of my artwork.

We Will Not Give Up

2010-11-17T02:26:00.014-05:00

I am not by nature, an optimist, which is why this picture is surprising to me. I can always imagine life getting worse. You can buy this image as a print or greeting cards at my website, ZoeMargo

Imagine This

2010-11-15T01:16:00.003-05:00

Imagine this. You awaken on a world called earth, a country called America, a state called Maryland, a city named Annapolis. You do not know it yet, but you are an artist.

to continue.....

Coast to Coast

2010-10-04T02:09:00.001-04:00

October 3, 2010 - LOS ALAMOS, CALIFORNIA

Abra and I left Tucson on October 1st, and I took this shot in Malibu, California today. After six blissful months - not that blissful, because I couldn't make any money and was worried sick but at least we had a respite in a lovely house - we are on the road again, back in the car.

Tthe Truth and Nothing But

2010-08-25T22:06:00.007-04:00

Life has been more difficult, and I have been less than willing to write about it. And yet, despite the fact that I am depressed out of my mind from worrying constantly about my non-existent income, I am creating some surprisingly good photography and art. Above is my latest. I like it quite a bit.

I had hoped to generate more income with my cards and prints (see below) but thus far, the only people who have bought them have been friends of my friend, Ida, who has been tireless in her efforts and good wishes for me.

There is a practicality to life which I have never quite understood. I don't have a lot of skills, but I know how to design a web site that actually works, and I can paint a portrait that actually looks like the person. I also do animals. A few good commissions, commercial or fine art, and I'd be back on my feet

I wish that someone with some power would stop ignoring the 9.6% unemployment rate in the United States. It is a terrible thing, to be able to do good work and have no venue in which to do so.

Doing Art is No Walk in the Park

2010-06-05T20:30:00.013-04:00

June 10, 2010 - TUCSON, ARIZONA

Michelangelo once wrote to a friend that the experience of painting the dome of the Sistine Chapel was making his head hurt and had rendered him completely broke because he couldn't get the pope to pay him. I do art because it's the only thing I know how to do. What impresses me is that I've spent half a century working as an artist and despite the rather poor return on investment, I just keep doing it and remarkably, I keep getting better.

This is Tucson - or is it?

2010-05-16T05:23:00.001-04:00

May 16, 2010 - TUCSON, ARIZONA

Tucson is at its best at sunset. A rather lackluster environment at noon, with the sun everywhere all over the place bleaching out land and sky, becomes filled with deep tonal qualities and mysterious shadows. I feel rather like Ansel Adams, my photographic hero. He did things in his darkroom and created a high contrast to the mid tones, images that reverberate with the soul.

Abra's Lizard

2010-05-10T02:59:00.006-04:00

May 9, 2010 - TUCSON, ARIZONA

Abra really has an interesting psychology. Yesterday, he carried a lizard into the house in his mouth. At first I thought he'd killed it, but he soon took it outside again, let it drop gently on the ground, then sat back and watched it scurry away. He followed it and lazily batted it around, and when it froze and assumed it's camouflage, he sat back on his haunches and waited for further movement. For awhile, he lay about, rolling from side to side and pretending to ignore it, but when it moved, he moved. Eventually he lost interest and the little beast was left in peace.
The dry climate seems to be dehydrating for him, as every time I turn on a faucet, he jumps up and sips the water for three or four minutes. Surprisingly, if he feels it is necessary, he will stand on the wet surface of the sink, but generally, he steadies himself on the counter and maneuvers his head until he is in a position that works.

Looking Up

2010-05-02T07:13:00.006-04:00

May 2, 2010 - TUCSON, ARIZONA

My friend Ida tells me there are people out there wondering what's happened to me. I'm not so sure. Still, if there actually is anyone, here is the story.
Several weeks ago, I was offered the use of a house here in Tucson for conceivably the next three or four months and I'm so astonished at my good fortune, I've been struck mute. In the meantime, I have been luxuriating in an absolutely lovely house with all of the amenities, very clean, everything works. The Tucson mountains are in the back yard.

I actually completely unpacked my car for the first time in nine months. I have set up my computer, printer and scanner, made a spot for painting and brought out my art supplies. I have wiped the dust off of some canvases and am making sketches. Also, I've taken about 600 photographs, many while driving, in attempts to get the mountain range silhouettes which virtually surround Tucson. The majority have been unfocused, but here is something nice.

Abra has run around the house looking in every corner and cranny. This is the nosiest cat I've ever met. He leaps up to any high place such as the top of the refrigerator, bookcase shelving, etc. because he cannot stand the thought that there is something up there that may offer great pleasure.
Abra lies around sunning himself out on the back patio and roams around the yard and the yards next door. He hasn't ventured out into the wash - that's what they call what looks like a large ditch. People have been cautioning me about coyotes and various other wild animals who, if they get ahold on Abra, will eat him right up. So far, we've been lucky. I can't not let him outside. He goes crazy. So, let us all pray.

The Southwest Life

2010-04-03T01:16:00.027-04:00

These mountains and desert are in New Mexico. I cannot believe I drove through Texas in two days. It is an endless state, mostly empty. New Mexico is also rather grim in the south, but twilight is a good time to take pictures.Tucson is where my friend Ida lives, and she is such a generous person I cannot believe I actually know her. She sees something in me, which is very nice, as very few do. It looks like we will be staying here in a lovely house, all for Abra and me, in west Tucson. I may actually get to unpack supplies and paint a picture.

Abra has been gallivanting about outside, and today came in with pieces of cactus stuck to him. I pulled out the larger ones with tongs, rather intelligent of me. He is doing his 'please don't make me look at you' routine.

Leaving Indialantic

2010-03-23T23:16:00.006-04:00

March 24, 2010 - I N D I A L A N T I C , F L O R I D A

Who could not love this cat?
Obviously, I have not been keeping up here, since we've stayed in one place for a bit and it lost the picaro flavor. We are driving down the Florida coast tomorrow. I think we are going to Miami. But what do I know.

Springtime for Florida

2010-03-14T23:29:00.014-04:00

March 14, 2010 - I N D I A L A N T I C , F L O R I D A

I have been remiss in posting, mostly because I have been working on a marketing piece and sending it to agencies in Miami, which I believe will be the next port of call. This is a snapshot of what I've just uploaded to my website home page. It really is amazing that someone with my talent and skills isn't making all sorts of money. If you click on the picture, it gets larger.

We will be here another week, My friend's son got a job, which has eased some of their stress and her mother adores me. She made me a chocolate cake.

And Now It Continues

2010-03-08T23:31:00.008-05:00

March 8, 2010 - I N D I A L A N T I C , F L O R I D A

Our time here will be up soon and we will be going, to be honest, I am not really sure. My friend is in very poor health and facing foreclosure while she is taking care of her mother and her son and she is in no shape to have guests. I want to do something for her, she has been so kind to me.
She has MS and chronic pain from spinal injuries and is now on her third appeal after being denied disability. She works as much as she can and the only thing she can do when she comes home is lie on ice.

It seems that no one is really paying attention to the people in this country who need the most help. I have called and visited churches and the Salvation Army and every social service and organization anyone can imagine, and they are all doing what they can, but the terrifying truth is that there are another 14.9 million people just like me in this country, not to mention Haiti and Chili and any other world disaster coming our way. The homeless shelters are full and soup kitchens are tapped out so all that I can do is hope that I am meant to stay alive and a solution will emerge.

Very Lovely Here in Indialantic

2010-03-05T15:28:00.011-05:00

February 28 - I N D I A L A N T I C , F L O R I D A
I have to admit, I'm glad I've been here and not up north. Nary a speck of snow have I seen. Snow is nice for skiing. That's about it. I saw the rocket launch from Cape Canaveral last night from Eleanor's balcony. That is a great deal of firepower. It just burnt up the sky.

On a different note...
Here's A Positive Report from the Labor Department:

Breaking News Alert

The New York Times

Fri, March 05, 2010 - 8:34 AM ET

Jobless Rate Holds Steady at 9.7%; 36,000 Jobs Lost in February.

The American economy shed 36,000 nonfarm jobs in February asthe unemployment rate held at 9.7 percent, the LaborDepartment said Friday, a more positive report than expected, given the series of winter storms that shut down much of theEast Coast.

I like the use of the word "shed".

The Inside Life

2010-03-05T13:28:00.019-05:00

I find Abra's psychology fascinating. Perhaps because of being used to the ritual of sitting on my lap while we've drive sedately up and down highways, Abra now, several times a day comes and sits on me. It is sweet. This is unusual because prior to the separation he didn't like to be in such close proximity unless we were in the car.

   We are sharing a beautiful couch with fold out bed - unfolded, because like most sofa beds, it is just too much trouble to pull out and arrange every night. But it is tons better than the car. And finally, when we go outside, he sticks right behind or beside me, trotting in his purposeful way and now more than half of the time goes where I ask him to go. I have splurged and bought more Fancy Feast, and he gobbles it up with gusto.
   My friends in Tucson, Ida and Connie, are still looking out for me and sent a listing for a job as a graphic designer at the University of Arizona. I have never been to Arizona. I have certainly been a graphic designer. My resumes and letters of introduction are always packed and ready to go.
   Even though it seems that all I do is watch Abra, I have, in fact, sent out hundreds of applications and resumes and ad slicks and booklets to places all over our splendid country, but alas and alack, no invitations for work have ensued. Considering my talent, one would think it impossible that my last project was over a year ago.
   Having any money continues to be a dream, and my most fervent wish is to come up with a security deposit and first month's rent for even the smallest of spaces. Also, why is no one screaming about gasoline being almost three dollars a gallon again? Considering that we are the most powerful nation in the world, we certainly are kicked around a lot.
   Strangely, I am not depressed. Granted, I am on huge amounts of antidepressants but I have taken them for years and until recently, I still woke up with the weight of the miseries of this world on my back. My first psychiatrist described my case as "Classic! Absolutely classic!" Considering that I have lived with it since I was eight, I'd more concisely describe it as "Hell! Absolute hell!"
   I can say much about depression, but if I was asked to be brief, I would today describe depression as an open wound in one's mind that never completely heals.
   I am a big fan of therapy, if I could, I'd visit the shrink at least twice a week. Shrinks have always told me I am fascinating.
   It has been a number of years since my last sessions. One of my therapists, who although overall was a lousy human being with no moral compass, once said to me, "You make up all of these stories in your head and then you get emotional about them." That is about the most intelligent description of me that anyone has ever made. In conclusion tonight, I would say this. Emotions are tricky. You never know where they are going to go.

Here is a shot that looks like Atilla the Hun of the felines, but in fact, Abra is yawning. We have been together for two months minus a terrible week and I believe both of us are changing for the better. Anyone who knows me will be astonished by that remark.

A Note to Issac

2010-03-05T12:35:00.006-05:00

March 6, 2010-INDIALANTIC,FL

Hi Issac,
A nice surprise to hear from you. As you know, I am in general, entirely self absorbed, and thus have yet to look regularly for comments from others. I just noticed your post from the 3rd, for which I thank you. Since there doesn't appear to be all that many people who have noticed the existence of A Picaro Life blog - only five followers and one of them is me - as this progresses, I am designing, in my mind, a coffee table book showcasing my extraordinary verbal and visual talent, including this marvelous picture of you and your brothers. I think also that I should issue a standard book size version since I am not certain the Pulitzer prize people pay much attention to the coffee table book format.

The Complexity of Car as Home

2010-03-01T22:20:00.019-05:00

February 28 - I N D I A L A N T I C , F L O R I D A

If one is used to a normal life, living in a car brings one to a unique perspective. This is what it is like. Crowded and very, very close. What is available to us is an area of five feet square, with height about four feet. Abra wanders all over, and is constantly slipping and sliding because the positioning of boxes and suitcases and bags are of the haphazard variety. I think he thinks it is some kind of adventure. Incidentally, he has stopped wailing when the car starts moving. Now he just checks all around and watches other cars and trucks with great indifference and aplomb.

At the end of the day, we head off of the interstate towards either a security patrolled rest stop, or a 24 hour McDonald's or Walmart parking lot. The challenge is to pick a spot not terribly far from the entrances but not directly in the path of the blinding security lights which is fair well impossible to do. The handicap cubicles in each of these facilities are very useful, as there is space and a sink and a pull-out table. Thus, I can freshen up and change clothing. The flourescent lights are not my favorite sort of lighting. I would rather have a few floor lamps in there. Parking lot views are not that attractive, but the sky is always available.

In regards to rest time, something I discovered is that if one's leans one's head aganst the passenger door window, instead of the driver's window, there is less of a feeling of claustrophobia. I nap, of course in my clothes but I do take my shoes off. If the lights are impossibly I lay a canvas bush hat over my eyes. I use pillows to bridge the two front seats together and protect my frail body from the gear shift. It is reasonably adequate. Sometimes I slip my legs through the steering wheel or place them up on the dashboard for stretching purposes. There are times when I place the car so as to allow light to stream in for reading. I may also use a flashlight. Two useful items for any circumstance are duct tape and a flashlight. Something is always falling apart and disappearing within the dark caverns within the car.

Our day begins between five and six o'clock, because that is the time the trucks surrounding us get into gear and head out and their engines are loud enough to waken anyone within a 200 yard radius. I have never been a morning person. Even as a child, I would stay up and read my books under the covers with a flashlight. So arising is rather stiff and awkward, and after freshening up, and feeding Abra, I head for coffee. McDonald's is the most accessible - it is, literally, everywhere. I am partial to the cappachino. Then I try to find some donuts. If there is a Dunkin' Donut around, we head there. I am partial to the chocolate frosted and the old fashioned.

A Moment to Catch One's Breath

2010-02-27T12:39:00.034-05:00

February 27 - I N D I A L A N T I C , F L O R I D A

We have been staying in Indialantic for the past few days with my old friend Eleanor. It seems that everything I've not handled because of living in the car is at the forefront.

Eleanor was glad to see me, her mother was glad to see me, her son was glad to see me. So unusual I've been basking in a sense of temporary security and Abra is learning the neighborhood. Abra is being as delightful as ever and everybody is happy to see him except for the cat in residence. There are two dogs here, who became instantly accommodating and civilized, which is quite unusual according to cat experts.Eleanor's mother is a fabulous cook. I am in heaven.
Because the Toshiba crashed last week, I purchased the cheapest alternative I could, which is an ASUS netbook. It is very small, very light, and has a screen so small it is quite impossible to do much besides write.

Abra isn't as happy because we actually have run out of Fancy Feast and he has to eat dry food like the others. He is doing better at listening to me at least 50% of the time. I think the week separation really shook him up. It certainly shook me up. I need to get him an electronic chip.

West Is East Somewhere

2010-02-23T21:18:00.008-05:00

February 22 - O K E E C H O B E E, F L O R I D A

Yesterday actually felt like Florida. Warm, sunny, lovely skies. We wandered around Siesta Key and Abra saw the Gulf of Mexico. Then we drove to Arcadia on one of the emptiest roads I've seen, although there was a fair population of cows. Route 70 runs straight across the state. We dined in a very nice place called Village Square Restaurant.

It is our third night in the car, which is so insane I cannot believe that I am not delusional.Never did I imagine that I would become familiar with the rhythms of homelessness. I have decided to call start calling the White House. The attention span over there is a bit on the minimalist side and it would be nice to hear that everything that could possibly help us is in debate. And now Afghanistan is heating up which means oh gosh, we need more money for our defense. Defense of what? Modern day warfare needs to take a step up the evolutionary ladder. We seem to be stuck inside a mentality that enjoys watching things blow up.

I suppose Hitler began the modern day siege on the people mentality. If they are there, bomb them. This is a country of paradoxes, it is acceptable to target and kill innocent people by mistake as long as we are sorry for it and yet we have the most rigorous hygienic routines in the world. Do anything you want, just please use the hand sanitizer first.

Abra missed me. Not so much that he listens to anything I say, but sits on me while I am driving and gives my hands kisses.

Abra Comes Home

2010-02-19T01:18:00.014-05:00

January 29, 2010 - S A R A S O T A, F L O R I D A

Remarkable, but I found Abra. He'd been picked up by a cat rescuer who thankfully, saw my flyer in a CVS window. He's a little high strung, we stayed outside today, very pleasant Florida day, finally. I am not going to be able to use my own internet card until I can find someone in the company of Verizon Wireless to understand what an untenable position they place their clients in, by revising policies that make no rational sense whatsoever.

I need a usb web adaper. They want me to pay them $230, maybe $120, maybe not a thing. Each sales associate seems to follow a different protocol. Yesterday, I spent an hour with someone, who kept saying, "I appreciate your position, but if I submit the request you'd like me to submit, they will say no,"

"Who is 'they'?" I asked. No one knows. No one knows the telephone number for corporate headquarters or even the state where it resides. I think it is time to go to the top.

2010-02-18T00:31:00.002-05:00

February 17, 2010 - H O L I D A Y, F L O R I D A

Giving up is not an option. Abra is a survivor.

I drive, I look, I call, I cry, I pray

2010-02-15T22:52:00.005-05:00

February 15, 2010 - H O L I D A Y, F L O R I D A

I have finally figured out the route we took, drive it, drive it again, knock on doors, leave flyers. People have been kind, concerned, spreading the word. He has to be somewhere. Tomorrow I do more. I cannot give up. I am so worried about him. I know he's scrappy, but it rained buckets, and it is cold.

How Could This Happen?

2010-02-14T23:56:00.008-05:00

February 14, 2010 - H O L I D A Y, F L O R I D A

   Abra slipped out of the car Thursday afternoon, and I did not realize it and drove away. I spent the last four days driving all over Tarpon Springs and Pinellas County in Florida and I cannot find him. My heart is breaking, I cannot leave this place until he is back with me.
   I have been unable to write because also on Thursday, my computer crashed, and although it is working today and may do so again. I may lose it too. The car is making a terrible sound when I brake so I am using the gears to slow down when I can. I cannot even think about it until I find Abra. I see that photos on the blog have disappeared, along with some of the design options. Every way I turn, it is loss and more loss.I spent six nights in the car, but today, because of the kindness and generosity of others, I have found a cheap room north of Tarpon Springs, in Holiday. Ironic. This is no holiday. I am so tired and so upset, and I have to find him. If anyone wants to respond, call me at 410-271-5837 as I may be unable to access email again. Animal Services is closed until Tuesday. I want him safe. I want him back.
   I want to respond personally to those people who are helping me, it will take a bit of time, but I am very grateful.

Birthday Synopsis

2010-02-10T22:44:00.009-05:00

Unhappiness and Gratitude in Chipley, FL

2010-02-08T11:19:00.026-05:00

February 7, 2009 - C H I P L E Y , F L O R I D A

We have run out of Fancy Food. Abra is very unhappy. As for myself, I'm a bit uplifted. Yesterday afternoon, I came to the realization that I had no credit, no cash and about an eighth of a tank of gas. I took the next exit and landed up in a Walmart parking lot, thinking of pulling out a few paintings and a sign announcing "Two Strays Asunder".

   I asked a man walking by where I was and learned that I had come to Chipley, Florida, which I discovered was a lovely town, very peaceful. He told me to go to the Sheriff's office and ask them for help and I might be offered a night's rest and a meal.
   " In the jail?" I asked with some dismay. He said no, he thought it might be in a house run by a ministry here.
   He gave me directions, which of course I flubbed, and thus I ended up at the police station, which I discovered, to my amazement, is only open Monday to Friday. I was directed to the Sheriff's office again, and this time I found it.
   The people there apparently found no bad things about me such as a police record, and called Minister David Darrow of the Chipley Ministerial Association. He came to see me at the Sheriff's office. I told him I was out of gas and hadn't eaten. He gave me a voucher for a tank of gas and a coupon for a complimentary meal at McDonald's. It was embarrassing, but truly moving for me. I have heard about the kindness of ministries, and now I've experienced it.
   So, I went to McDonald's and before ordering anything, I turned on the computer to try and find someone who knew me in Florida. An hour or so later, I looked into my purse and I could not see my wallet. Before breaking down in total hysteria, I realized that if it had been taken by someone, it would net them absolutely zero, which made it better, but not great.
   The manager called the Sheriff''s office and and found out that I had left my wallet there of all places. I felt grateful, as I don't generally have such good fortune. So to the Sheriff's office I returned and was given the wallet and that's when I just fell apart, because I just could not face driving on Route 10 in the dark.
   So Minister Darrow was contacted again. After awhile, a woman drove up and took me to a shelter that she runs with her husband for women and children called The Armstrong House. I could have stayed forever, but certainly one night was a gift.
   The bad news for Abra was that he couldn't come inside, and thus stayed in the car.
Reaction , extreme displeasure with me. I'm getting the face turned away treatment from him.
   This morning, I emailed the entire MSNBC news reporters but no one has yet to contact me. I am hoping that at least one of them actually reads some of his or her emails. I think I'm right up Chris Matthew's alley after my diatribe yesterday.
  After spending a few hours cleaning up the car, I returned to McDonald's where I used my coupon to get an Angus Mushroom Cheese combo, which is really quite tasty. It is something new on the menu.
   There are many points of view about organized religion. I was baptized in the Greek Orthodox Church. There is no way for a Greek kid to be irreligious and really, what can possibly be wrong with Jesus' mandate to love your neighbor as yourself? Also, he gave the moneylenders hell and walked around being followed by little lambs. What is not to like?
   So yes, I have this experience of religion and here's what I wanted to get to, which is that all morning yesterday, not for the first time, as I drove toward Tallahassee, I repeated the Jesus Prayer continuously.
   Last year, I created a Jesus prayer card, and I was really happy to be able to give something back that would meaningful for the people who were so generous to a stranger travelling.
   I've just met a young couple named Dan and Kendra Peterson, two musicians, a poet and an artist and exchanged stories. They are going through a similar plight as my own, and are hoping for something better for themselves. Dan is letting me know when his blog is ready. Young, in love, creative, destitute.

Is There An End to This?

2010-02-06T15:12:00.087-05:00

February 6, 2009 - 100 Miles west of Tallahassee, Florida

I am intelligent, talented, educated and really tired of being unemployed, homeless and dirt poor. I have worked very hard throughout my life as a commercial and fine artist and I have paid taxes since the age of sixteen. I have been unemployed for eighteen months and for the life of me, I cannot understand why.

I want to do what I've trained to do and do incredibly well and make a living. It is not an unreasonable expectation until you throw in any number of men in ties but also women, posing for cameras in designer suits, live from Washington, having never missed a meal in their lives, who debate and bemoan and go to dinner with their friends in ties in New York and call the doctor pronto, taking advantage of their government supplied and paid for health insurance if a toe is stubbed or a finger gets a paper cut, and let us not forget the necessity of at least one manicure a week - starting at $25, which would feed three kids for a day. I don't care what you wear. Just do something that is actually good for the people who pay your salaries.

Do not let me get started on the Wall Street credo of "we'll lose our best people", which is ridiculous because where are they going to go? McDonald's and Burger King, that is where they are going to go.

Where is reality here? Why is there no continuous fervent outcry? These people bankrupted us. Why are we sheep, allowing gluttony to be justified as a capitalistic mandate, because what happens if the common man makes it good? He's not going to give any of his away either, we think. We aren't communists or socialists, we can't just give money away, the system is not set up to let ordinary people get their homes and jobs that shouldn't have been taken away in the first place, back.

Poverty is not a concept. It is not a percentage point. It exists. Here. Now.

Why do we allow them, both emotionally impaired Wall Street magnates and the holier than thou, well fed and fabulously insured politicians who support them through thick and more thick, even a penny after what they did? The whole bunch of them should be facing criminal charges, not taking a weekend, perhaps five days this time, to sail a boat around the Carribbean. Sea.

There are eighty year old men and women working in Walmart and Kmart and McDonald's for minimum wage which is about seven dollars per excruciating hour, and just about anywhere else that they can find because their pensions and life savings have disappeared into the enormous valley of our so called recession. This is the generation that fought and worked and slaved to maintain the spirit of democracy in this country and bring up their children to have a better life and we spit on them. It is appalling, and it breaks one's heart. This is not old news. This happening right here, right now.

Look me in the eye, Mr. President and tell me not to give up hope. I voted for you because I believed you had the inner strength to truly make the world a better place. Instead, you go off in all directions and give speeches and continue to ignore the issue that won you your election. We are running out of time. Please, do something.

You are the most powerful man on the face of the earth. Why are you not down there with Congress, with your best steely eyed and mouth pursed expression, sitting on their heads until they do what is good for this country?

I am appalled to see who the people who dictate our economic policies really are. Is there absolutely no one in power in this country who will admit that the political process in this country completely out of control?

What sort of human being sees the millions of ill and hungry children living in slums and boxes, not in some third world country but in the United States of America, and holds his or her head high, enjoying the secret belief that good is not the only option on the table? If you are determined to make a mark, why aren't you giving up your government paid healthcare?

This is a country that bases it's entire reputation in the world on the premise that it is as a haven for those who pursue life, liberty and happiness. Where is my life? Who has my happiness?

And then there is that constantly astonished and avuncular face known asThe Press and The Media. Why do these people take more shots at politicians and movie stars with seedy sex lives, instead of really getting dirty and actually making the stories of people comprising the ten percent unemployment rate in this country news It is tiring to watch a constant stream of very well paid liberal newscasters, another group which also appears to never have missed a meal in their lives, pontificate about the troubles in America.

You want a story? Come see me and my cat - who really is quite entertaining and a comfort in my misery - trying to sleep for a few hours at rest stops and fast food parking lots and watch me having a nervous breakdown - literally - because I cannot pay for my medications as the health insurance I did pay for is no longer good, having been cancelled because the incompetent overseers of the cash have forgotten to actually make note of my payments and I can't get anyone at the Department of Labor to return my calls.

Is the truth relevant? Crying my eyes out, contemplating just ending it, not because I have low self-esteem, because I do believe in myself, but because I want my home back and my work back and I'd like my annual checkup and I need to go to the dentist and new lenses for my glasses. I also wouldn't mind my own vacation in the Caribbean. Ha.

Here is my opinion. I am outraged.

I have written to senators and congressmen. I have sent letters decorated with handmade art to President Obama on several occasions. I write constantly to the press. Not a word. One would think the machine could send at least an acknowledgement of receipt.

I want my success story. I have worked not just hard but terribly hard in my field. I have, in the past seventeen months, hoped and hoped and tried over and over not to feel like a whiner and a loser as I send out samples and resumes and hand people my business card, which is quite beautiful but hasn't brought in a cent because no one has the money to buy food let alone advertise.

I want to do what I love and make a decent or extraordinary living. I want to stop hurting and feeling helpless. I want someone to not just hear the truth and discuss it over dinner and round table television entertainment. I and the other unemployed 14.9 million Americans need the people in the rest of this country to feel the truth.

We need help. And then we need work. And I want to stop being hungry and losing frightening amounts of weight and living in my car.

Oh, New Orleans

2010-02-04T02:39:00.013-05:00

February, 2010 - NEW ORLEANS, LA

New Orleans is unique, yet reminiscent of times long past. people are friendly and welcoming. If I could find a way to afford an apartment, I'd stay for awhile.I've spent hours being lost. I saw a lot of the architecture. I was on Bourbon Street. Music piped outside, big and brassy. I was everywhere. Generally going the wrong way. A wonderful man named Feltus spent an hour drawing me a perfect map. I still went the wrong way. I am going to procure a GPS someday, somehow, although with my luck, I'll just end up somewhere out of range. I am leaving before the big game. People are pleased as punch.Poverty and wasted properties are everywhere. I ate gumbo and po boys.

Abra has been having encounters with some cats at rest stops and at McDonald's, which seem to be favorite spots for strays. Most of the time he acts tough and hisses, but one spooked him so badly, he rushed into the car and fell over himself.Louisiana is big. There are not many towns between the cities. There is space all over the eastern United States. It would be nice if we spread out a bit more.

The First Entry

2010-01-30T10:17:00.034-05:00

January 20, 2010 - ADEL, GEORGIA

Imagine a woman of a certain age who is a hugely talented yet unemployed artist. She is fairly attractive, sharp of wit, bright of mind, and has been wandering up and down the east coast of the United States in somewhat hapless manner since August, 2009. That person is myself and my name is Zoe Margo.

Introducing Abra, A Cat Run Astray

I met Abra a few weeks ago at a motel in Metter, Georgia. Metter is a town about 30 miles east of Macon right off of Highway 16 and I stopped there for a night as I was on my way to live and work at a nature resort near Beaufort, South Carolina.

I was in my room oh, about an hour, when I heard a cat crying outside the door. When I opened it, an attractive, young black and silver striped cat with a white nose and paws sauntered in, took a look around, then lay on the floor, stretched charmingly, did a few back and forth sideways flips, stood and looked up at me and gave a few mews. He showed absolutely no sign of fear when I leaned down and petted him. He walked around as if he owned the place and I'd been at his service forever. I was enchanted.This was a novel turn of events for me. I've always thought of myself as a dog person.

It was a bitterly cold night , and I let him stay for awhile, watching him roam about under, atop and behind everything. He was extremely curious. He also looked healthy and quite at home, so I didn't think he might be a stray. I assumed that he was owned by the motel managers or someone nearby and so I called the front desk.

"I am in 110 and there is a cat here. Is it your cat?” I asked.

“A cat? In your room? Oh no, no cats allowed. I shall come and get this cat,” said the manager. He came very quickly, within minutes. I picked up the cat, who made no fuss and with some doubt, handed him over.

"Do you know where this cat belongs?” I asked the manager.

“Oh, yes, this cat is from the projects across the way. He must not be in the room.” He walked away with the cat, who lay passively in his arms. I felt worried, so I said, “You aren't going to hurt him are you?”

“No, no, I'll just send him back to where he comes from. No I will not hurt him. I like cats very much.” I went to sleep and left the following morning.

As I was driving toward the interstate, I decided to stop at a McDonald's for a biscuit. It was at least a quarter mile from the motel on the other side of a busy thoroughfare. As I pulled into a space, to my astonishment, the cat emerged from a bush directly in front of my car. He acted a bit shy but when I tore off some of my breakfast biscuit and placed it on the grass, he took his time but eventually he approached the food and munched away. I drove off but I thought about him quite a bit in the coming days.

What Happened Next

Two weeks later, having been summarily evicted from the nature resort because I asked for a television, I stopped at the same Metter motel for the night. As I unloaded the car, the cat emerged from the bushes, came up to the doorway and looked at me as if to say, “It took you long enough.”

After unpacking, I jumped into the car to get some dinner and he jumped in right beside me. I drove across the street to an Italian restaurant, and as I turned in my seat to emerge and stand, he zipped out under my legs. He ran around some and then followed right behind to the restaurant's entrance. I opened the pneumatic door and he moved right in. I managed to grab hold and keep him from going inside, although my wrist was smashed and his head a bit smooshed. I went in to place my order.

The restaurant was built with picture windows on three sides. It was surrounded by a small ledge on short brick wall. The cat not only jumped onto the ledge, he rose on his hind legs and beat on the window. He was a big hit with the customers. Everyone in the restaurant turned to look. I went outside and talked with him while rubbing his back. He spent the rest of the time I was inside by pacing in front of the door. Someone asked, “Is that your cat?”

“Actually, I think it is,” I replied.

So now I, a homeless artist, am a companion to a stray cat that I have named Abra. He is called so in tribute to Abraham Lincoln, whose birthday and many attributes I share. I thought of naming him Chas for Charles Darwin, fellow genius scientist, philosopher and adventurer, Actually, I am not that strong on science. Darwin shares Abe's and my birthday. As for the cat, I don't know his birthday, nor do I know his age. He is fairly frisky, so I imagine he is young rather than old.

And So We Drove Away from Metter

Abra was in fine fettle in the morning, as he had gotten to sleep next to me on a relatively nice bed in a warm room, instead of shivering in the sub-normal temperature raging terror and inconvenience to the entire southeast. We were awakened to the sound of persistent knocking. Abra dashed into an infinitesimal space between the headboard and the wall and I was faced with a young teenager awash with worry.

“It is 11:00,” he said. “You should not be here.”

“Forgive me, I am running late,” I replied.

“But it is eleven o'clock. You must go now.”

“I will need a few minutes.”

“No, no, there are no minutes. You must go now.”

“I will leave this room as soon as I possibly can,” I said. And thus he stood and fretted and paced outside the room as I gathered up belongings and dragged them out to the car.

“It would go more quickly if you helped me,” I said.

“No. I do not help you. I will wait here until you are gone.” And that, he did.

The Date is January 24th

I have been attempting to create a blog, on Wordpress, who says that its blog creating system is remarkably easy to use. To that assessment, I say, “Ha!” Abra and I have had a tough couple of days. He hates sitting in a moving car. I'm not all that fond of driving, either. But here we are. When we first start out, I have to collect Abra, who usually roams about outside in the motel parking lot while I am putting possessions that were taken out, back in the car. I bribe him with cat treats, which have been a big hit with him. Then I quickly shut the door and off we go.

Yesterday, as were were departing from a motel in Valdosta, Georgia, I turned to back up, and had a glimpse of him diving out the rear door window, which I had not noticed was down.

We were near the lobby when this occurred, and several of the women who work there were nearby. They just laughed and laughed, the way people do when you have been such an idiot, and even you think it is funny.

I have yet to master picking up and carrying him without his claws going everywhere, so one of the women, a long time cat owner, scooped him up and brought him back to the car and dumped him unceremoniously on the seat. It's an interesting feature of handling cats, they will be dumped with absolutely no objection, lithely putting themselves back together.

Once we are on our way, he climbs around on the car seats, which are stacked with boxes, suitcases and Whole Foods canvas grocery bags, which can hold pretty much anything. Abra stares out of the back window watching his world recede. He turns around and notices that something is happening with the scenery. He is not impressed. So he yowls. He continues to walk on everything, now adding his vocal disbelief. He stops right beside my ear and just belts it out. I let him go on for awhile. After all, I'm not particularly fond of driving, either. Usually I will pet him and croon, “I know, I know.”

Eventually, he launches himself into my lap, does unique balance exercises on my legs, and finally he settles into a comfortable position for himself. Then he looks up at me and lets out a few mewls. I then proceed to pet him as we drive. If, for any reason, I lift my hand up, he mutters a few moaning mewls. Then he turns around and looks at me pathetically. It is quite sweet. His selfishness is boundless, which I must admit, I admire.

We are going west. This morning, I tossed two coins with the decision being that tails would be south to Miami, where I believe I might be able to sell greeting cards on the beaches to the European and British tourists who are still laughing at the value of the dollar.

Tossing heads would mean “Go west, young man (or woman and cat) and grow up with the country." Incidentally, people generally attribute this quote to Horace Greeley, but it was actually first uttered by another journalist named John Soule.

Well, both coins landed simultaneously as heads, and to be honest, I'm not a big fan of heat, so now we are headed probably to California, where the weather was still temperate until the movie, “The Day After Tomorrow.” I am thinking Carmel, as the temperatures there are quite reasonable and of course, there would be Clint nearby. In the meantime, we have gotten as far as Loxley, Alabama for the night and tomorrow we will head for New Orleans. The only deterrent to our travel plans are our money issues.

More About Me

For those who wonder what I am about, here is a synopses. In the past five months, I have been living out of my car. Not every moment. I've gotten to break it up by visits to a few friends, who were honestly not that glad to see me, and, with the help of donations from others, most of whom I have never met. I have gotten to sleep in some cheap motels and hostels. I have almost landed some long term housesitting jobs, and still hoping something will arise.

There has been a moderate amount of misadventure, miles and miles of driving, and a ton of utterly rotten luck. This is apparently due to my flawed personality. Over time, I have been subject to severe criticism from people who believe, almost zealously, that I have brought myself to my predicament and it is all of my own damned fault. I have been linked with descriptive adjectives such as self-centered, selfish, hard-headed, unrealistic, pessimistic, arrogant, self-absorbed, intimidating, demanding, ungrateful (generally a favorite), out of my mind and just all around downright exasperating. All of this, of course, hurts my feelings. But here is the rub. Animals of an adroit mind adore me, and we all know what that means.

I have been spending an inordinate amount of time driving around in my sturdy 2000 Toyota Corolla - the car that just keeps on going - that is packed to the rim with paintings, art supplies, books, and clothing. I carry a 2006 Toshiba notebook tablet with digital drawing and painting programs, an elderly yet svelte Canon scanner, and a workhorse of an HP 460 printer.

My task has been to daily locate the least expensive place I can find, to lay down my weary head and on the following day, pick it up again in order to drive about looking for a state called Zoe Has a Job, A Home and A Life.

In between, I advertise my skillful self and apply for work, and hope that an appropriate request from a housesitting site called Housesitters America will eventually net me a place to live. I can take excellent care of cats and dogs, but have no expeience with horses or birds.

I am now a veteran of hostels in Baltimore, Maryland, St. Augustine, Fort. Lauderdale and Miami in Florida, and both Charleston and Asheville in North Carolina. I have enjoyed the amenities of hyper-inexpensive motel rooms in Glen Burnie, Maryland, and both Norfolk and Henderson in Virginia. I have slept in Elizabeth City and Maryville, North Carolina, the latter being a locale in the great, spooky Smoky Mountains, where I came close to being run out of town by the sheriff.

I have put paid to rooms in Manning, South Carolina, and both Macon and Metter in Georgia. There was also a night spent in my car under a palm tree in a CVS parking lot somewhere south of Miami and a freakish middle of night experience with a would be mugger in a Kmart parking lot on the north side of Fort Lauderdale who yanked open the driver side door and caused me to fall on my head. He was chased off by my yells of “What? What?” which attracted the attention of six policemen who were sitting in several cars right across the parking lot at Dunkin' Donuts. They were very nice and when I refused their offer to take me to a hospital - the side of my head was rather bloody, they suggested that I go home. I did not mention that I was already home.

Back to Basics

I know talking about money is crass, but after all even Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet in Sense and Sensibility needed money. I am sure it is a long shot but Abra and I have decided to start a fund, called, “The Fund to Keep Abra in Fancy Feast Cat Foods and Lodgings for Him and Zoe.” The phrase, 'I'm busted', comes to mind and quite frankly, I am worried. I'm not certain how well we will tolerate actually sleeping in the car after driving in it all day and these motels are making a killing on pet charges. I am not a big eater, but I have grown quite fond of certain meals from highway restaurants such as The Waffle House, which serves up a delightful scrambled eggs with cheese and raisin bread toast.

Given a choice, I would rather take a few commissions, or sell my prints and cards on my web site, ZoeMargo. I have never gone amiss by working for my livelihood. Since my genius extends to both the fine arts and the commercial arts, which anyone will discover if they go to my website, I am capable of creating any sort of art anyone could possibly desire.