In 1985, someone told me I’d never work in this town again.
They were wrong.
It gets better.
So, go make things.
Have a perfect day.
An auction house is selling off a Superman story that artist Al Plastino gave to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library & Museum. He is outraged and needs everyone’s help!
In 1963 DC Comics worked with the White House for a Superman story. In it, JFK asks Superman to encourage America to get fit. The story was pulled when Kennedy was assassinated, but was published in 1964 at the request of the new President and the Kennedy family. The last panel noted that the art was to be donated to the JFK Library.
If you know anything about who misappropriated the art, let Al know!
Please help if you can. The art I donated and thought for all these years was being housed at the Kennedy Library at Harvard is now being auctioned off on the anniversary of Kennedy’s assassination. And now I am finding out that the art may have never made it to the library. The archivists tell me there are no records of it ever being received. I asked for the art back and they will not give it to me. I asked for the consigner’s name and they will not tell me that either. They tell me I have no rights to my work and that it is too late to get it back.
Pretty sad. Spread the word.
Here’s a few very nifty internet finds for you.
People who accomplished great things, [Duckworth] noticed, often combined a passion for a single mission with an unswerving dedication to achieve that mission, whatever the obstacles and however long it might take.
…She developed a test to measure grit, which she called the Grit Scale.
The Daily Rituals of Artists: fascinating stuff, must read! Many cool tales form the lives of creative types of all kinds!
These kinds of creative routines are also useful when our energy lags or we become stuck. Studies show that mental relaxation and a rise in dopamine levels aid the creative process. (This is why it’s not always more productive to push through and continue work when our body demands a break).
I always used to soldier through, thinking that any other option was slacking. Now I know I’ll be better off if I take a nap. I highly recommend the article and the book!
And the delightful Museum of Forgotten Art Supplies. Because I am of an age that remembers rubylith. Not fondly, though.
For the record, I still use many of the tools this site raves about, including the zip-a-tone that almost no one else uses, but made restoration on A DISTANT SOIL such a pain in the ass.
RT Sastrowardoyo just directed me to this story at the New York Times on “hate-reading”. You know, that person who swears you’re the anti-Christ, but they never miss a blog update, or a post on twitter. Your Facebook page is their hangout: they’re dying to see you make a misstep, they rage when you have a good day, they’re sure you’re writing about them ALL THE TIME THEY CAN SEE IT IN THAT POST when you’re really writing about your high school buddy’s third cousin.
And whatever you do is a sure sign of your evil, like the way you eat crackers:
Of course they’d never admit to it, even though you long ago flagged their unique IP showing the many hours they spend looking on your blog for stuff about them that isn’t there. Or, you know, sending their friends to try to sign up on your private FB page. Slick!
OK, so my hate reading is searching out very bad book covers to laugh at them. Which is fun and harmless. At least I think it is.
Because if I don’t like someone, I know it’s unhealthy to pay attention to them. So I block them on social media, and I block their websites with an app. Problem solved!
But apparently, lots of folks just can’t help themselves. They have to cyber-stalk the people they can’t stand.
Here’s a screen shot of the activity of one of a man who spent years cyber-stalking the blog. I blocked him repeatedly, though he came back day after day, year after year. An old business acquaintance who engaged in some dirty dealings, he was terrified I’d out him one day: I never did. I didn’t want revenge, I just wanted him gone. I’m not even angry. I don’t care about this dude, though this behavior alarmed me a bit, so I kept a record until I was sure he wouldn’t end up going ballistic in a mall.
He spent the next decade going over my blog and that of another ex-friend who’d gotten ripped off by him. What’s funny is that there’s no mention of his name on either of our blogs. And we don’t really have anything to say about him now except, “Whew! Glad he’s gone!”
Dude. Get a hobby.
7 billion people on the planet. Ignore the ones you don’t like and go spend time with the ones you do.
Have a read about “hate-reading”.
Thank you for your attempt to warn me about the person who told you something mean about me, and you are sure it is a moral imperative that you tell me what this person said.
Don’t. Just don’t.
Look, you’re not doing me any favors, you’re just spreading gossip. And old news is old news. Maybe they had a bad day. Maybe they regret it. Maybe not.
Even if every word said was absolutely true, it’s so stupid and petty I weep that adults whip up this kind of drama over stuff which should have been left in high school.
I don’t really know why this person would come out of the woodwork like this, and I don’t really want to be burdened with another unfortunate moment that will make me carry the burden of seeing this person in a bad light every time their name comes up.
Knowing what they said brings me nothing. It enlightens me not in the least.
It does, however, give the cheap, momentary power of being In The Know. I think that’s the appealing power of gossip.
I don’t like to play “Let’s you and them fight,” especially over something as petty as what you just said to me. No, I don’t care what this person said about my hair, or my weight, or my work, or my conduct, or anything else. In fact, I never really knew this person in the first place, and only spoke to them over the phone. That was about 13 years ago.
I’ve been judiciously avoiding them since, but you won’t find one word about them on my blog, or a comment thread, or anywhere else from me, because when I drop someone, I really drop them. I don’t belabor, I just negate, because that is the kindest thing you should do for someone who has been unkind.
If they’re carrying some kind of mad-on…guess what.
That’s their burden. Not mine.
Don’t pick it up and carry it to do their dirty work for them by leaving it at my door.
I have a great life, and great friends, and great work, and they deserve my attention. I’m more than happy to let bygones be bygones, and if they want to be a troublemaker, I cannot stop them.
But you can by not spreading their malice.
I hope we can be friends, even if this person isn’t a friend. I think if they were, they would not have said these things to you, because what they said upset you. And it was not about important industry matters. It was all petty, and stupid, and competitive, and personal.
I just don’t care about those things.
Friends let gossip end at their door, and do not drop it on someone else’s door.
Thank you for understanding.
A Distant Soil is © and ® 2011 Colleen Doran. All rights reserved.
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