From The Raven Quill;

Personal blog of artist & metaphysical student, Tree Pruitt

An uncommon love story of the questioned friendship between an heiress and her lower class butler...

http://www.hbo.com/films/bernardanddoris/

 Not being a large fan of "Drama" category movies, I was pleasantly surprised by the HBO film, "Bernard and Doris". I had some prior knowledge of the publicly questioned relationship between heiress Doris Duke and her strange butler Bernard Lafferty, yet I entered the story with an open mind. Those who have given slashing online reviews of this film have closed themselves off to good old fashioned Hollywood style storytelling. Movies are "stories" often told through the "interpretation" of several different individuals, and therefore should not be critiqued as historical fact unless the thing is previously so proclaimed. This story does not follow the tabloid headlines or outright accusations that were made against Bernard, nor it is a glowing reflection on the character of the high ranking personality that Doris was in life. What the movie does is to suppose that events took place in a romantic version that Ms. Duke may have wanted us to believe took place, albeit simplified and a bit sloppy on some details, (some props were re-used without care to the timeline). She gets things her way in the end and her butler comes out as a most faithful companion -- this pissed some people off!

 Doris Duke was played by Susan Sarandon, of whom I'm not a fan mostly because of that "Drama" thing again, but I nearly adored her in this role. She is just as believable as a powerful heiress in control of her world as she is an eccentric stoner afraid to be alone. Some have interpreted her actions in the movie as those of a slutty pot-head, but I think it's reasonable that a worldly unwed aging woman who could afford the very best would have a right fine piece of ass in her bed and a fat doobie in hand! I also think the directorial purpose of the (few) scenes regarding her sexual partner were intended to express that Duke was not desperate enough to be seduced by her butler, born of a lower social class than she and homosexual to boot. Further, when Duke discovers her lover offering a sloppy second to the maid she's disgusted and fires them both in outrage, expressing the same firm control over her world and need for loyalty as she does in a later scene where she discusses finances with her lawyer. This is a strong woman who lives by her instincts, and those gut feelings tell her she can trust Bernard with her friendship, and later her very life.

Ralph Fiennes, (aka Lord Voldemort), is both charming in his flamboyant stillness and quietly scary in the severe alcoholism he portrays, (The man made an evening gown work for him as well as he did a Harry Potter style cloak). Early on, his character expressed a lack of personal strength by allowing Doris to draw upon his homosexuality more and more often, eventually making him into a living doll of sorts, so it should be no surprise when he shows a nearly fatal ability to avoid the house wine cellar. Doris, however, does not begrudge him the theft or dishonesty, and for this he seems to totally offer his life in her service.

The movie tried to tell the personal perspectives of the main characters rather than to docu-search historical facts. No one will even know the truth of Bernhard and Doris in real life, unless a lost diary is discovered. I think these were two people who both needed someone drastic in their lives an found those needs fulfilled within each other. I prefer to believe, as the story tells us, Doris was able to confide in her friend, and Bernard was loyal to her beyond the end. THAT makes for good storytelling!

And so they -- sort of -- lived happily ever after.

"Hi, my name is Daryll and this is my other brother Daryll."

First, I'm sort of glad to be posting under the category of "Life". :) Second, I am a little drunk; give me a break, it's a national holiday. I'm thankful for Kid Rock, and the yearly viewing we get of the Godfather -- that has been a tradition since James and I met and I worship him for celebrating the hypocrisy of Thanksgiving in that way with me. I'm thankful that T.V. is showing Newhart tonight. Gods know I feel my inner geeky old age-ness for saying that, and at the same time I'm proud.

 I'm proud that I'm part of a "Newhart Generation" (does that blow your mind Dick???) I suddenly don't give a crap if you little younger shits don't know what I'm talking about. We -- IIIIII-- invented Steampunk (Madonna wishes she did and dressed like I did in the 80's you copy cat bitch -- luv you still) and Gothic and PUNK so you can suck my Newhart lovin' balls for it! Ha! You today don't even know where you come from, just as we didn't when we were latch-keying ourselves into a Generation X out your eyes. :) Ahh, it feels good to fuck into my own generation! I'm mid-70's and it fucks the whole system up -- folks like me don fit no wheres; we're smart and naive, strong but fragile, sarcastic without fully knowing why. Whether you are a fan of both Kid Rock and Bob Newhart alike doesn't really matter, but I think you know what "gen" I'm comin from if you were born after 1970.

All the cool fuckers had "Do you feel like I do" while I was growing up, and in our prime we got stuck with "Thriller" and "Purple Rain" (Gods know I still worship Prince, thank you Mike Shields, lol). What a fucked up confusing world us current  Thirty-somethings are stuck in! I feel for you "Love Boat" and "Fantasy Island" fans! You know what???? They, all the grown ups, can kiss our collective asses because WE are the ones in control now! Obama says so, right??? Der.

Just wow, man! Did you ever think us schmucks who lived by T.V. and latch-keys would rule the USA???? Did they KNOW what they were doing when they subjected us to Smurfs, Transformers, and G.I. Joe mixed with shit like Carol Burnet and Newhart???? That's some fucjked up shit! I don't know if I'm a red neck or a blue blood, and it's T. V.'s fault for sure! But what does that wondering and seeking of self create? A new kind of American, I think.

 I'm becoming more relaxed than I've ever been in my life. I AM the Barak generation and it's hard to believe I'm not alone. I've always felt apart from where I was at in history, and I think that's a mild symptom of my wee generation. We ARE together, really, you are not alone. Come on.... how many of you hard rockers laughed at Bob Newhart or cried during Love Boat??? Thanksgiving is about television culture anyway, but now, it's OUR culture kids!!! WE are the target generation!

Do you remember Kool-Aid commercials smashing through walls and Marvin Gaye soulin' it out? Do you know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Roll Tootsie Pop??? Do you know conjunction- junction what's your function???? Zero is MY hero! Yep, then you're with me baby! Post Yellow Submarine generation we are! Caught between hippies and yuppies you can all suck my proverbial balls, as Cartman from South Park would say! I fucking LIKE being old!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE drinking wine while laughing at Robot Chicken jokes you little sodders will never understand! HA, we rule! (Yes I love Seth Green) Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll we lived and some still do! Kiss was a faded memory by the time The Scorpions were "Still Lovin' You", HA!!!!!!

Ah, yes, I am thankful for the wine I drink that makes me love the commercialism I grew up within (Gods bless cable); ready for Rudolf Christmas geshtalt??? Smoke another one I can't really afford then duck and cover you mother fuckers. It's a cool and exciting new world, it is. I feel sad for the newer generation coming up. Maybe I'm blind and can't see what you have to love about being you, with Ren and Stimpy as your guide lines. However, I know I love the messed up, between the worlds, generation I am a part of -- we're awesome!

 Retro, retro; I WAS "That Seventies Show", a little later than the characters portrayed. My little slice of generation doesn't fit any where, and even you Anne and my own husband are a few years older than I'm talking about. We're fucked and left in between an "X" and a question mark. But I love it, and you should too. Imagine 1970 anything being the boss of things, black or white; yeah fuckin' right bayyyyyyyybeee! We rock, we don't care what color your skin is and... We've got a handle on it! Just relax... us "kids" know what's goin' on" bitches. Rock-on!!! Peace Out and all that MM like shit! :) (he wishes he had some of our pains).

I enjoyed my personal Thanksgiving. I owe that to my UBER cool husband, in large part. Thanks to my sisters for doing what I really needed; leave me alone this year. I don't think you can possibly comprehend the retrospective revelry I'm caught inside of -- and hope to soon emerge. But know I am rockin' and havin' the best time I'm able to have... by this life's resources.

 Not a hippy, not as far as a "Latch-key kid", I don't know what I am, but I am an American, and for the first time since the 1970's I feel that arrogant American pride. Thanks Brother Obama... I sure as shit hope you don't mess up this vision of a new, grown-up, America. Yes, I feel we have a President that's as mixed and messed as the rest of us. :) I smile. I'm fuckin' white, so what??? And part of my family comes from the unforgiving South of the hopefully past.

 My relatives owned slaves and some were Native wild men, and others were German Kykes and Irish niggers -- God loves us all!!!! It's a new day and I hope you get what I mean. TEACH your children how much we ROCK!  I did not think we would be the first to elect a "black" President, I didn't think we knew anything beyond video games and Saturday morning cartoons. We are -- YOU are -- and in time the world will be, thankful for our very diverse understandings. I'm done for now. I love you all! ( Remember too though, I mentioned too much Chardonnay?) HA!!!!!!!!!! In the end.... I am thankful, and that's all that really matters. Let's let the whole WORLD rock as we hope we do. :) My brothers and sistas! I am cheeze Americana... I deal with it. :)

 Well, yeah for me, I tell ya ... another of my works of art is featured in an Etsy Treasury! It's a heart warming type of feedback, for an artist to know that their work is not only being seen bit is being "chosen". Any monkey with a credit card can BUY a piece of art, but when a person "chooses" an artwork, purchased or not, it means that a personal connection has been made, feeding the creative fires. My thanks goes to lavajewelry.etsy.com (HOT jewelry there BTW, no punning around!) for putting together this collection, and bring my "Vishnu Sleeping" into the light.

 This Treasury gallery features all members of Worldwide Women Artists Online. WWAO is a juried group of diverse artisans who revel is spreading light, color & form around our planet. Click the banner below to learn more.

 Now, the link to view the Treasury of WWAO member art -- remember that a Treasury is only a temporary gallery so please do visit soon. Only a limited number of comments are allowed there, but if you have something to say you're welcome to comment here in my blog. Look for "Vishnu Sleeping", and my username is TreePruitt. WOW, WWAO! Treasury

 "Vishnu Sleeping" is a rather unique painting, not to toot my own horn. Being on canvas, the painting is BOTH oil and acrylic paints! No, I wasn't running low on supplies. :O It was the end result of a long line of self education and experiment. Though I was personally sure of the archival quality of this piece, I kept it for observation, so had not offered it for sale before recently. I'm pleased to say that, after a few years passing, there are no signs of any instability of either paint what so ever. Now, understand that the different chemicals haven't been allowed to mix; the oils would likely break down the acrylics bond. One half is painted in oil and the other is done with that new kid on the block, acrylic. Only in the center do the two dare to mingle near the Third Eye of the God, yet never fully becoming one together; we must mix them with our eyes in viewing!

 I think this is an exciting piece not just for the physical chemistry between the paints, but also the textures that bounce and play off each other in the light. I'm sad to say that the best way to see the effect is in person; light will bounce off and into oil paint in flighty ways, whereas the more flat acrylic doesn't mess around and stays put. I livened up the acrylic side with shimmering pearl toned paints, for balance, taking great care to avoid the gaudy air too much of such a thing can create. If one is used to reality in art, no matter how distorted that realness may be, then working fully abstract becomes a challenge of itself. This was mainly a project about brush stroke for myself, but an image has to have composition and it can be tough to reign in the urge to brush wander. I had a "concept" for the piece, but no sketch or rough draft -- it was "balls to the walls" as they sometimes say. :) The tension of wanting to maintain a structure while adoring the wandering paths made the experience closer to a spiritual roller coaster ride than an art project; I had a lot of fun! The entire thing is a mass of symbolism. The Hindu God, Vishnu, sleeps in the pool of the subconscious realm, yet, at the top, Divine Concordance hovers as a vibrant sphere. Overall the piece expresses the division of energy through the metaphysical concept of Force and Form; the Divine Balance of Oppositions! (giggles) I LOVE sssssssymbolsss! :)

Check out this lovely fine art Treasury in which one of my pieces is honored to be chosen, look for "Eyes of Humanity". Click all of the images to help get this temporary collection on the front page of Etsy.  It's only available for a limited time, so scoot on over!

Gallery United Etsy Team Treasury http://www.etsy.com/treasury_list_west.php?room_id=13322

"Eyes of Humanity" is a sociopolitical piece that's as rich in textures as are the many textures of a human life. What's sociopolitical art??? Well, it just so happens that I've put together a little thing called a Squidoo Lens that will tell you about it. :)

My thanks to PennyFabricArt.etsy.com for putting the Treasury together, and the sweet words about my work!

* BTW, you can check out a pre-view of my new site devoted only to my witchy side ... ~ WITCHY-ONE.COM ~

 What I experience has direct affect upon my artwork. Literature can certainly cause life altering experiences, so I thought to blog share what I'm currently reading. I used to live with a book under my nose when I was a kid. I read whatever I could get my hands upon, which wasn't always the best material for a kid, but what's done is done;  no rest for the weary nor hope for the wicked, eh? When I began to learn "Art" rather than just do it, I left behind the exciting tales of monsters, whales, and woes to be buried in every sort of art subject; life was ruled and devoid of fiction for longer than I care to admit! Recently, I decided life is too short to deny myself literary joy any longer, so have taken in hand classic titles that catch my interest. Eventually I hope to read again (as an adult), old favorites, but for now I'm enjoying the search for older books with voices new to myself.

  I'd not read Faulkner before, but was drawn to "As I Lay Dying" after seeing a small PBS spot featuring the book. The preview left me feeling as if there were onioned levels to this story; layers of personal relation and similar relationships to my own experience, and a writing style I'd never before experienced. Being so intrigued, I set off to eBay to rescue a charity sponsered copy for myself. I've fallen in love with seemingly crazed conversations such as...

 "I haven't got ere one," Darl said. "Because if I had one, it is was. And if it is was, it can't be is. Can it?"

"No." I said.

I am. Darl is my brother.

"But you are, Darl," I said.

"I know it, " Darl said. "That's why I am not is. Are is too many for one woman to foal."

 I've only reached page 99, as of yet, but already find myself both nodding my head in agreement and scratching it in wonder. I'm moved to discussion, and so invite anyone who would like to share some experience with this odd little book title to do so; either in private contact or public comment.

My mother is a fish.

-----------------------------------------

* UPDATE 06/08

What a fucked up story, Mr Faulkner has given to us! LOL! I'm nearly through the book. It's slow going because I'm working on so very many projects, and I don't want to speed read this one. It's not dissapointing in all around odd-ness, that's for sure.  ;)

 I've found, and joined, a very interesting site called e-Notes. They happen to host a group for this book title. If you join e-Notes, add me to your list of pals there, I'm just getting started as "artist-tree".

The official eNotes group for As I Lay Dying  http://www.enotes.com/lay-dying/group

  Alone for the night in an old house in a new town, a discomforting feeling had crept up my spine causing me to shiver. The place felt empty and exposed with my husband off to work for the evening, but I told myself there was little to worry about with our three large dogs in the house. Turn on some radio, I thought, music will pick up the mood. I settled down in my studio space for an evening devoted to painting.
 Billie Holiday crooned a soulful tune while I found a groove of my own. Colored blobs of paint sat ready on the pallet, so my brushes dipped and went to work. Things were moving along smoothly, and I soon lost track of time. I was pulled out my concentration by the sound of a whine from the next room, the center of the house. Since the bedroom, where the dogs were sleeping, was open to that center room I figured it was time for a canine potty break.
  "Anyone need to go out... outside?" I hollered again around the doorway. No response; no thumping of feet and wagging tails to confirm the need of swift elimination. I figured our bullmastiff must be dreaming again; he often had what seemed to be bad dreams that would cause him to cry out in his sleep. I went back to the task of getting my inner vision onto canvas.
 A short while later I noticed my focus had shifted. Something had changed for a moment, as if I'd blinked my eyes very slowly. I leaned back from the easel to rub my eyes, but then, there it was again; the light has changed slightly. What the ... I wondered to myself, so I leaned far back in my chair to peek into the center room. The ceiling fan light lights were flickering softly. Oh great, I thought, an electrical short sounds expensive and down right dangerous. Then I noticed the bulbs weren't going out all of the way, and so thought there might be a situation with the power in the area; maybe surges.
 I stood up. Turning my back to the open doorway, I decided to check out the front widow to see if there were street lights flickering. Everything seemed fine, so I turned to go back to the painting. Now, the ceiling fan blades were slowly turning! I looked at a hanging plant; maybe we'd just had an earthquake, but the plant wasn't moving. At that moment I heard a rhythmic tick, tick, tick, tick. The blades of the fan were moving so fast that the motor housing was clicking from the motion. Since I was painting with fast drying water media the last thing I wanted was a hard air flow! I rushed into the center room to turn the darn thing off.
 The fan stopped before I even got to the doorway. It was a distance of about fourteen feet, but it had stopped all the way before I could even get into that room. I paused out of surprise, but decided I'd better shut it off anyway. On into the center room I went, only to be stopped again by the sight of the dogs sitting lined up in a row and the cat too! Four animals sat still like garden statues, staring off into the adjacent bedroom. I giggled because I'd never seen such a thing. Even at the sound of my laughter the animals didn't move. What ARE you guys looking at? I chuckled again. Peering into the bedroom stopped my laughter. There was something on the shelf above the closet; A basketball sized sphere of glowing green light began to pulse. It had dimension, and seemed to have weight, as it was causing an indent in the plastic bags of Summer clothes it rested upon.
 When I stepped forward to go into the room our dog, Deyanna, moved for the first time. She blocked my path. Then everything changed. The thing at the top of the closet moved! It began to slowly rise up in the air, at the same time the cat flew sideways; hissing and spitting. The two female dogs jumped to either side, leaving the bullmastiff lone center. He spun round in place, facing me now instead of the bedroom. Poor Harvey was frozen in place with eyes wide, while the light in the closet lifted higher up. It hovered just a moment, free floating a full foot in the air, before drifting forward ... and down towards us!
 Now everything seemed to shift to slow motion except for the sphere. As it sped on, it got smaller and seemed to change colors with each size shift. The cat was still hissing, but no one moved. There looked to be a darker core to the sphere that got darker still as the size grew smaller. At the point when the light reached Harvey's back it was the size of a baseball and sunshine yellow in color. It hit Harvey right between the shoulder blades, causing him to let out a horrid wailing yelp! Continuing on a straight line from its closet nest, the light passed through my bullmastiff and out his chest on the other side! When it came out, the light was as small as a golf ball and solid, vibrant white. It shot right into the floor! Still wailing, Harvey arched his back wildly. He reared up on his hind legs and his front legs were thrust apart at an improbable angle. Suddenly it was as if we all were able to move again ... so we did! It was a good thing I got to the front door first or I think we'd have had a new doggy door!
 One cat, three big dogs, and one small woman trying not to wet herself dashed out to the sidewalk. For a moment the five of us stood there, stunned. Harvest began to shiver, so I set about checking him over. His pupils were pin points in the night, but he seemed unharmed. While running my hands over his body I noticed an area of his chest was hot to the touch! Just under his breast bone area was a golf ball sized super heated section of skin and fur, but thankfully no visible mark. I sat down on the sidewalk with my pets and began to wonder about my sanity. I replayed the scene in my mind a dozen times while looking around for a possible source for the light to have originated outside. Because my husband was working overnights at the time, we'd put dark plastic and heavy blankets over the single window in the bedroom. I began to wonder if the coverings had fallen aside to allow passing headlights into the room. There was only a narrow space between houses, but light could have reflected to be directed into my bedroom. I stood up and walked towards the house.
 The animals followed me to the edge of the porch where we all again sat down. I wasn't in a big hurry to rush back inside. I though again about what I'd seen. It didn't make sense but it sure seemed to be real enough to hurt my dog. I began to feel very protective of my animal pals and decided I'd better take a rational look around the house. I'd left the door open when we ran outside, so I could see into the now quiet, empty house. I got up and went inside.
 Slowly I walked into that center room. The bedroom door had long since been removed, offering a gaping view of the closet. The bedroom was as dark as it should be, with the window sealed tight. I bent down to run my fingers over the spot where the light had disappeared only to find that the surface of the floor was still warm! At that moment the cat hissed from the front doorway and Deyanna sharply barked towards me. I ran back to the porch, slamming the door shut behind me.
 When my husband came home from work in the morning he found his five housemates on the front porch, waiting. I know he didn't believe the story I told at first telling, but the animals changed his mind. That next day they refused to come into the house at all. For several days later the dogs would scurry past the bedroom to get to the backyard door. They wouldn't play in the large center room ever again without a human with them. For over a year, each time she'd pass the bedroom doorway, the cat would pause to offer a nasty hiss towards the closet.
 There were few other houses available that met our needs, so we stayed. The old little house continued to give us stories to tell; but those are for another time.
   -- Tree Pruitt, Light in the Closet; A True Ghostly Tale

Holy shit, West Salem Ill.  the epicenter, but Cincinnati, Ohio shook good!
 5.4 magnitude!  My clock was at 5:38 AM, just outside of Cincinnat. Earlier today I'd said my ears felt plugged with pressure, but I wasn't having hayfever. I'd been saying for a month now that we're going to have an earthquake here! Wild!
 I was sitting here at my computer, surrounded by potential sharp objects (my collectables), when I felt a feeling in my tummy. I've been through several earthquakes in the Pacific Northwest, and one here in Ohio (1980's). It was a hard shudder, hitting my house Northwest to Southeast. I had enough time to grasp my desk top and say, "Here we go!", but then, thankfully it was over. I KNEW what I'd felt and rushed to put the TV to local news. For a moment I doubted myself but noticed hanging plants and such still swaying. I certainly do hope we don't have any aftershocks. If so, I'm screwed sitting here typing, surrounded by all my fragile knick-knacks that would happily become flying projectiles. A good deal of my artwork was once damaged by a quake that actually moved Olympia Washington map-wise! The house was a MESS then. Here, all is fine. We just got our backsides given a wiggle by the Goddess! :) I enjoy knowing that the Earth is alive and can move us about, but I hadn't heeded my feelings of warning. I'm lucky stuff didn't come down. Guess who's gonna be buying some Velcro and wall screws???  ;)

There are several works of art I've created that were inspired by past earthquakes. There's one piece in particular in my Etsy Gallery Store right now! Look for "Impact of Emotion". http://www.TreePruitt.etsy.com

Child's Play

Eyes closed tight to make colored circles dance; painting a refusal to see the world as it is,
one lone child with its back against a playground wall imagines the whole thing real.
Shifting to gain perspective of the sky, the small thing stretches out imagined brushes wanting to be dipped again in colors true.
Back to the shadow of wall's cool comfort, it retraced to mind made hues upon internal canvas.

I laugh now to think of it all.
I once saw a white light from above.
With closed eyes I'd waited for the end to come.
But when I opened my eyes I saw only the sun.

                                                ©Tree Pruitt 4/15/08

Gypsy says, "There it is!" After giving up on the back yard this morning, Gypsy found just what she needed to get HER daily business done. It figures that the dog with search and rescue training searches out the snow shovel first thing. :) After the last ice storm I had cleared a path for her in the yard. The ice had fluffy snow underneath and had been too thick for her to get through without danger of a cut paw. Well, she was very happy with my effort then and remembered how well it had worked out for her. Just after this photo was taken she picked up her paw and scratched at the shovel! Good girl Gypsy. ;)

Measured 14 inches at 11:30 AM near Batavia, Ohio. It started snowing again, and has been for a while now. I can't see the path I shovelled in the backyard for the dog at all. Snow mobiles are zooming past the house. In the back, there are areas where the snow comes up past my hips!!! Now, I'm not very tall, but that's still an amazing amount of snow!