Clothing Optional Rant Eulogy

About Cliff on CBC
Went to the mountains today after hearing that Cliff had passed
stopped at Deadman’s Flats, ironically, and listened to
Bob Dylan sing she’s never gone as long as she’s inside you
So this sense of connection is a choice

Choose a sense of connection

Dr.David Burns said fighting is an intimate connection
and a choice to connect with resentment
so choose to be connected
choose to be not connected

They don’t have to be in the same room
to enjoy this feeling this sense of connection
or even on the same planet
or even in the same time period
I feel very connected to my favourite writer
long passed away
to read his words is to read his mind
To see Cliff’s artwork
is to see and feel him
what he valued and loved and connected to

Some connections, like with Cliff, I value extremely
and will always be with me

A Real Treasure

I posted things like this on dating sites, hoping to meet someone with a sense of humour. About me: Art degree with a major in gynecology. I’m not a doctor but I’m willing to have a look. About you: You have sufficient musicality to be able to hum the William Tell overture complete with cannon. You can view this handy instruction video here

It didn’t work too well for dating but I had fun which come to think of it, is why I wanted to date. Win/win.

2. I really like Coen brothers movie The Big Labowski. Reminds me of growing up in redneck Calgary with an equally bizarre underground drug culture of stoned weirdo’s. I see that they were all aspiring to be Scots:

3. I recently changed my genes and their expression of diabetes and heart disease in 3 months by reading this guys book and doing what he suggested. After an ultrasound and a thallium stress test the cardiologist said I went from a candidate for a heart attack to having the blood pressure of a fit 35 year old. My blood sugar is now normal.  CHANGING LIFESTYLE CHANGES GENE EXPRESSION A Talk with Dean Ornish. The science is better explained here though: Sugar the Bitter Truth.

14. I’m an ordained minister. At least I think I am. After spending 10 bucks on the Internet they sent me this handy email, so it must be true: Congratulations, You are now a legally ordained minister at the First Church of Atheism!

5. I’m an initiated yogi. Hang around Ashrams long enough and someone will eventually initiate you. I’m not sure what it means but at least they didn’t ask me for the deed to my house. I gave all that up for REBT. See#7

6. I am an INFJ  in the Myers Briggs personality type system. Rarest of all types I relate to 1 person in 200. So I’m on the outside observing. Same type as Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King. Oh yes and God help me Shirley McLean as well. I hope I’m not channeling an ancient Egyptian cause that would be like weird. Find out your type here.

7. My Dad died when I was 2 from lung cancer, he was a coal miner. I grew up in a state of anxiety in poverty and abuse. I medicated the effects of that with sugar, then nicotine, and then pot and dropped all that for yoga/religion. Finally I found Albert Ellis, the foremost psychotherapist of the last century, read a couple of his books and dropped all that other stuff entirely.

8. When I was 40, after a brief career as an addictions counselor, and a longer career in transportation logistics, I went to art school. For 6 years. A process where every 3 months your work is put before the foremost artists in the land, and they decide if you get another 3 months of school. This process I engaged and did well at, 3 times on the President’s honour role, earned 2 degrees, while watching it tire and burn out 18 year olds. Only 100 graduated of 800 entry submissions. Then I taught there for 10 years, specializing in Adult Education.

9. During Art School I was married to a woman who developed a terminal degenerative brain disease (Huntingtons) that affected her personality and emotions negatively and was very difficult on relationship, to put it mildly. We finished up at the same time as I lost my brother as well as my best oldest friend, both to cancer. I lost relationship, my house, studio and my business and family. I was 50 and I started over. What choice do you have? A social worker recently said to me, Jerald you must have been devastated. Is that what you call that? Oh. Now I know.

10. I have taught painting and drawing in the faculty of extension (adult education), having earned an adult education certificate, at local Art Collages and University.

11. I have practiced art as therapy, (using the creative model) in long term care institutions, with people with incurable illness, as they degenerate into slow demise.

12. I learned Photoshop and the internet at art school and eventually spent a few years making a decent living producing images for internet advertising, until the customers left for India and their attractive economy. I would go back to this if I found the right gig. Selling crap to Americans using fear I find to be morally reprehensible, generally speaking. Besides, design isn’t art as I understand it and I prefer to practice my art. Perhaps in the right gig……

13. I have resolved this: If a person I care about doesn’t return my love, I can seek out others who will love me. I could devote more time to my hobbies and other enjoyable pursuits. I can teach myself to enjoy life without a lover. Then if (and when) I do find a lover, I can be doubly happy. I can practice unconditional self acceptance and accept myself with or without a lover.

14. I used to irrationally believe in astrology. I can’t explain what pleased me about it or why I found it to make sense but it just did (confirmation bias). As a Virgo I find this a very strange belief. Must be my Pisces rising and Cancer moon having an effect.

15. Picasso and I are both born in the year of the Snake in Chinese astrology. When I read his quotes I find myself satisfied and vindicated as an artist. Such as: Success is dangerous. One begins to copy oneself, and to copy oneself is more dangerous than to copy others. It leads to sterility. Also: The people who make art their business are mostly impostors.

16. Cameras for me are a delight, as they handle the details, as do computers. I am vaguely interested in the settings of the machines, but mostly revel in the happy accidents of the technology of art, whether it is the chemistry of paint or the code of a flash presentation. To me, it’s all ways to intuitively express my feelings in depth, and it’s impossible to predict the outcome. Don’t ask me how I did something in Photoshop or Painter, I really don’t know. I just push buttons until I get happy then quit.

17. Beth, my  former lover, died when we were 17 or so. of a brain tumor. She said to me, “I’m going to die aren’t I”?  It was the hardest question I ever had to answer.

18. Glenda Ferster, my former lover, died when she was about 21. She was killed by her taxi passenger, an inmate of a mental institution on leave, while she was driving cab. He raped her and left her body in the bush near Exshaw Alberta. It was the hardest funeral I ever had to attend. The search for her had been called off but the cab drivers didn’t quit. We kept going till we found her. http://www.taxi-library.org/canada/ferster-g.htm

19.The movie Good Will Hunting makes a lot of sense to me. I also was a (virtual) orphan, who was adopted by working class trade folks (transportation) who went on to higher education and career after receiving counseling.

20. I love to drive. I once worked at a bus company training their drivers. Driving heavy equipment pleases me.

21. My Taylor guitar makes the most beautiful sounds. I love everything about it, the smell the feel of my fingers on the strings. It can be loud. I call it my banjo-killer.

22. I studied voice (opera) for a year. My teacher Maudi said, “you really can’t sing can you ? All right then!

23. I got busted for a joint when I was a kid. I got a hundred dollar fine. Still can’t get into the States or work for the City due to my record. I find I don’t miss either experience.

24. I love Patrick O’Brian’s Master and Commander series of books. Read all 20. 6 times. You are the nutmeg of consolation, the rose of desire and the very flower of consideration. Ahhhhhhhhh bliss. I highly prefer character development to procedural. He is the master.

25. This is what I have come to believe from all of that:

A Real Treasure

There is only one of me.

I am a unique individual, one of a kind.

Therefore I have value,Whether I am young

Or old

Fat or thin

Tall or short

I accept myself as a unique work of art

Vastly interesting

Fascinating

Endlessly changing

Person

Of limitless possibilities (I think of Steven Hawking, wheelchair bound, immobile, scientist, professor, husband and father if I happen to contemplate my `inability’ to create satisfaction in my life)

Because:

I am always in this process of change

Therefore:

I cannot be a finished perfect`Anything’ (Insert label here [if you must])

This imperfection (by definition) has no bearing whatsoever

On my `value’ or `worth’

I have value or worth because I am a unique one of a kind piece of very fine constantly evolving art that has perhaps not existed before and perhaps may not again

And in my mind, so are you.

So I take pleasure in you, simply because I want it,

A real Treasure.

Blackstock ‘07

trust

what is it?
I was raised by conservative narcissists
all narcissists are liars
I am afraid 
I don’t trust anybody
blind trust
is no trust
blinded by the charm
to create trust

The Problem

I must do well and win the approval of others or else I am no good.
I can't trust their approval or their evaluation of do well

Other people must do “the right thing” or else they are no good and deserve to be punished.
I can’t trust them to do the right thing.

Life must be easy, without discomfort or inconvenience
I can't trust life

The Way Out

Is there any evidence that I am no good? The only evidence I can find is that their likes and dislikes only describe them, this I can trust.

Where is it written that others must? Just because I prefer it, does that mean I must have it?

It’s a pain, but it’s not awful

Accept Accept Accept
The purpose of life is satisfaction
What good can I make of this?

 

 

Anniversary

So. This is my anniversary.
20 years since smoking cessation
32 since habitual pot/booze was a factor in my life
I was very anxious
The people that I had counted on to nurture and protect me
Abandoned me as a child
Then they attacked me
Guilt, as it was all my fault, I was groomed to believe
I was responsible for the attack
I had asked people who had nothing to give
For what I wanted.
They hate that
They abandon and attack
Then smear
Overvalue Undervalue Dump Smear

This was my Mom, and siblings
My Dad died of lung cancer and left me in the care of a narcissist Mom
Who abdicated her responsibilities and left me to my animal siblings
Narcissists in training, nothing to give, abandonment & attacking
Grooming me to care for her
My only way to gain affection, as a reward.
Codependent in training
Groomed with Fear Obligation Guilt

So I learned not to ask for what I want to fear the guilt-attack consequence
Asking will get you abandoned, dumped
Raging at the world for not anticipating my needs
My needs are not a priority anyway I knew
So I never asked again All or Nothing became my life
Anxious to please to not get attacked and dumped

By age 12 I was a pack a day man.
Roll your owns, the only skill my mother taught me.
Because it was cheaper for her.
I had taught myself to tie my own shoes
And to read
When I ran from the bullies into the library
They knew I wouldn’t fight back
No one taught me to fight back
That it was OK to defend myself
To hurt others
As the slaves hurt the slave owners
By being free

I taught myself logistics of planning escape routes
From stupid violent people at age 6 who hunted me
I became the best dispatcher in the city
Fleets of 400 vehicles to manage for 20 years
The stupid people drove the cars
I the codependent took care of them

Holding my anger down with cigarettes and pot
Living in a drug induced haze
And anxiety
Is today the day I will get fired?
A self fulfilling prophecy.

So I went to my love
Art School
There I learned that the designers are codependent and please others
The Artists please themselves

As I started to ask for what I want, my wife threw me out
Narcissists manipulate by withholding sex
Almost impossible to tell till you are in it
The are overvalue-love-bombing and very convincing liars
I sought therapy
Assertiveness training
Cognitive rational therapy REBT
I deprogrammed me from over anxiety and rage
Yoga and religion down the drain too
No longer sucking my resources
With nothing to give back
Guilt-attacked for asking

I find that asking for what I want is still scary
There is a tension that exists before the relationship
Gets better
Or ends
Sometimes a risk is fun too
Being alone has the joys of solitude
So nothing to lose in the asking, reasonably

Sometimes at the gym I try to make friends
When I go I do stroke recovery these days
So many gym rats have nothing to offer
They see me as a gimp a crip a drain on their resources
The Yoga people are actively hostile
They are there to Look Good In Bed
Pissed that I ask for friendship in a coffee a chat
Whats your email I’ll get back to you
As sincere in their fake empathy as a used car salesman with his prospect
No proof in that pudding

Either way
Problem solved
I know where I stand
No longer in over anxiety
Sucking chemicals to feel better
Like my Dad who was abandoned and attacked by his
Awful angeraholic Scottish father and codependent Irish mother
They sent 6 of their kids to live at the Salvation Army
Their needs being an inconvenience
Dad killed his lungs with chemicals to the point of cancer at age 40
Self harming
To feel better
From the incest-like abuse
Of being attacked by the one you are supposed to trust
To care for you

So this is the anniversary of my self care initiation
Happy Birthday to me!

Heartbreak Alley

Heart broken
I am broken
I didn’t do relationship right
Obviously
Because she left
So
It’s all my fault
That she didn’t keep her promise
That she wasn’t loyal
That I am broken

or

She didn’t keep her promise
Because she is not sincere
She left because
I asked for what I want
To Deepen Relationship
She Had Nothing to Offer
She Didn’t Keep Her Promise
Of Love
Because She Is A Liar
She Slept With Another
Because She Is Bored
She Craves Chaos

conclusion

I am not Broken
Disappointed yes
Even Devastated
But Not Broken

Valid

to be valid
or invalid
depends on 
someone/thing
external/internal
which validates me
a credential
of worth
a condition of self esteem
“the greatest illness known to mankind” –Albert Ellis
is a tree valid?
only if its good for something
that answer = all depression and anxiety

Self-esteem is the greatest sickness known to man or woman because it’s conditional. Dr Albert Ellis

Empathy

em·pa·thy
/ˈempəTHē/
rapport with
sympathy with
understanding of
sensitivity toward
sensibility to
identification with
awareness of
fellowship with
fellow feeling for
like-mindedness
togetherness
closeness to
chemistry

If I ask for empathy from folks, or am perceived to by being injured, simply walking into the gym recovering from a stroke for example, 50% of the population respond with hostility. Covert or overt. Sociopaths, borderlines, narcissists simply don’t have empathy. Their m.o. is that if it is asked of them, to deepen understanding and relationship, they leave in an anxious and hostile manner. In order to look good, they blame me for asking, or existing, then they smear. They had to leave its all my fault.

My family. I asked for family connection, close ties, and since they are not capable of creating adult relationships I’m scapegoated and they leave, throwing rocks. Being the youngest, with no functional parents, and no siblings with empathy, I was orphaned, and raised myself. Cold, alone, dirty, and hungry always wondering what is normal. I was forced to share a bed with a sibling who beat me daily physically and emotionally.

Eventually the siblings were removed by social workers to foster homes and I began to bloom. An interest in art, music, literature especially gave me top marks and honour rolls at school while being beaten after school by the kids of drunken trades people, chased home daily. I often took refuge in the library, where I found the staff had empathy at a distance, at least they didn’t judge my choices. From Steinbeck to Dr. Suess to Everything a Boy Needs to Know About Sex. I was researching ‘normal’.

So it comes as no surprise to me that since I wear my empathy, my concern for others, like all my emotions, on my face that I am hated for my empathy for they have none and it makes them look bad.They hate to look bad.So they attack going out the door.

So when I walk into the gym, limping and gaining satisfaction from caring for others, I am a target for their hostility.

The gym teacher suddenly becomes hosile when I ask for information. Is this machine in use?  Lashes out, name calling, then complains about me tries to get me removed.

A patron who intrusively tries to help unasked and is rejected, no thank you, becomes anxious, doesn’t look good, lashes out. Well fuck you! Reported and asked to leave.

The management staff is pissed when it is pointed out that the parking for handicapped is full of ice, dangerous to walk on. Put offs abound. Finally the mayor is invoked at the city facility. Sent him a tweet. Meetings, inquisitions, are held, I invoke my qualifications in conflict resolution, my lack or attacks on others, my right to invoke my rights.

They offer to hire me, love bombing, but on a volunteer basis, I decline and suggest an invoiced professional rate, they decline, I go back to the gym, recovering from emotional attacks by their staff and the the ice they can’t seem to understand and clean from their handicapped parking. The building has existed since 1968 and they haven’t figured out it snows in the winter and the physically challenged, as well as everybody else, are mobility challenged and at risk on ice.

That would take empathy. Managers aren’t known for it, many are there just to look good.

Eventually I’ll be dumped and smeared, now that the love bombing has started on a management level. Overvalue, undervalue, dump, smear. In the meantime I’ll explore my options and get lots of exercise.

The REBT psychotherapy viewpoint is that they are that way so they should be that way. Accept accept accept. My mechanics viewpoint is to just turn up the music and ignore the defects that either can’t be fixed or too expensive to fix. 

I seek satisfaction watching crazy folks run around in their underwear staring at themselves in wall to wall mirrors. And good earbuds.

I watch Burn After Reading for the empathy of Joel and Ethan Coen. Thanks guys.

 

FOCUS FEATURES

The Mess of Life

I get
Why should I invest in you — when you are my inferior? An in-valid.
Or
They treated me with obvious goodwill and kindness.
How to tell?
Same way you tell anywhere.
Unconditional acceptance
Of my self reliant adulthood,
Willing to be available if asked
Or
I must be liked and accepted or I am a shit
So I will do this for you at great cost to myself
So I may signal my virtue
I must be liked. So don’t get in my way and compete with me for likes.
For you must do the right thing, whatever I decide that is
or you are a shit
and I can’t stand this inconvenience.

http://www.rebtnetwork.org/library/musts.html

Most people are crazy because they need to be liked – Albert Ellis

I highly prefer to be liked and accepted but I don’t HAVE to be. I never have been 100% and I never will be, stroke or no stroke.

I highly prefer others do the right thing, whatever I decide that is, but they don’t HAVE to. They never have and they never will, stroke or no stroke.

I highly prefer no inconveniences in my life but I don’t HAVE to have that. I never had that and I never will, stroke or no stroke.

The Mess of Life
digital
Copyright 2020 Blackstock Art&Design

A Real Treasure (Poem)

There is only one of me.
I am a unique individual, one of a kind.
Therefore I have value,Whether I am young
Or old
Fat or thin
Tall or short
I accept myself as a unique work of art
Vastly interesting
Fascinating
Endlessly changing
Person of limitless possibilities (I think of Steven Hawking, wheelchair bound, immobile, scientist, professor, husband and father if I happen to contemplate my `inability’ to create satisfaction in my life)
Because:I am always in this process of change
Therefore:I cannot be a finished perfect`Anything’ (Insert label here [if you must])
This imperfection (by definition) has no bearing whatsoever
On my `value’ or `worth’
I have value or worth because I am a unique one of a kind piece of very fine constantly evolving art that has perhaps not existed before and perhaps may not again
And in my mind, so are you.
So I take pleasure in you, simply because I want it,
A real Treasure.
Blackstock ‘07

Twitterverse

So, living alone with my cat, I woke up confused, my arm and leg sometimes working In that moment I lost my home, my cat and everything I owned, including friends/family that wouldn’t even visit in the coming months. 1/

But I had rebtnetwork.org taught to me on facebook by a guy dying of liver cancer and not upset about it . If it is to be it is up to me.OK then. Paddy Johnson @artfcity suggested a gofundme Cliff Eyland @CliffEyland bought a print and he donated as well 2/

this got my possessions into storage and coffee money and kept my cell phone going. my facebook and twitter friends I had never met but like me donated. so I wrote 2 books on a tablet in the hosp coffee shop each morning before physio. my narcissist fiance never showed once 3/

so I learned about female narcissism https://shrink4men.com/ and wrote about my experience of it. my single mother was one so I had raised myself in the library, lonely and anxious always and here life was repeating, I was in trouble and alone, but the same tools I could read 4/

write and learn. So I did. So I am. Since the stroke didn’t affect my cognitive functions I was able to search out psychological help, and the hospital gave me physical help. 5000.00 a day for a bed, nurses, 4 specialists, physio, for 6 months and 3 months outpatient at unknown 5/

cost. Recently a twitter writer bought my book and offered to review it in trade for reviewing hers. So I did. She described mine as self pity and couldn’t understand the personal history format I learned from reading the New Yorker mag. No empathy for any loss but hers 6/

If it is to be it is up to me, If I were to be heavily reliant on others, rather than appropriately so, teachers, mechanics, doctors etc I would not like myself or my life. This my responsibility, to create satisfaction, this is the purpose of life to find satisfaction 7/

For instance an attractive woman sidles up to me in the grocery, I am pushing a cart, my cane is obvious, a wedding ring on her hand. Oh you poor man! in a seductive tone, how can I help? 8/

Help? I don’t obviously require any, she must be in this to look good, uh ok what are your feelings on adultery, I ask? Offended that she should be seen as fucking less than the most physically able specimen, she leaves with an awful look on her face. This makes my day 🙂