Category: Uncategorized

This is general advice that many of us are told about our art. As artists, we see all of the flaws and our confidants assure us that no one else will notice. This is often not enough to fend off the brain weasels though. Anxiety just tells you that is wishful thinking. But I came to a revelation recently that will give the rational brain something to fight back with.

Our revelation starts with color, specifically, the color blue. Homer describes the Mediterranean Sea as “wine-dark.” Analysis of other classical texts around the time show that things that modern people would describe as “blue” are not described that way. Egyptian murals show fresh water as green. The day time sky is described as “light black.” Classical language had no word for the color “blue” until late and for most languages, this is true. Blue is one of the last colors to have a word.

Eventually, the Egyptian make a pigment from lapis lazuli and add a word for “blue” and nearby languages start adding a word for blue as well.

But surely, the physics didn’t change and it did not. The sky still scattered sunlight in the same way and would make a “blue” sky as we would understand it. The water would still reflect the sky in the same way and would be “blue.” Yet, these classical authors didn’t have a word for blue and don’t make one until much later. Why?

Some scientists tried an experiment . They found a tribe of people who didn’t have a word for blue in their language. They showed them a series of squares, 11 of which were green and 1 of which was light blue to my eyes. It took the people of this tribe significant time to identify the square that was not “green.” We are not talking a delay of milliseconds but many seconds to correctly find the square that was different. Yet to my Western eyes, it was immediately obvious.

They next showed the members of this tribe, 11 squares that were green, and 1 square that was a slight shade of green different. To my eyes, I could tell no difference between the 12 squares. This tribe however had dozens of words for different shades of green. They very quickly identified the different square.

What does this mean? It means that without the words to describe the difference and without the thought processes and neural pathways trained to understand the differences, they couldn’t see the blue square and I couldn’t see the slightly different green square. The difference didn’t exist for us. The brain ignores what it doesn’t understand in favor of what it does understands!

This may seem obvious but it is worth saying again. In general, the brain ignores what it doesn’t understand. You can’t see what you don’t know! It applies in a lot of ways, especially with some of our social issues but it applies to your art. Your audience can’t see the “flaws”; they don’t know anything about them so their brain ignores them.

This is a generalization. Some people are very observant. Some people know more things than that admit. But the vast majority of your audience isn’t lying to you. They don’t see the flaw you obsess about. It is the scientific net that I have been needing to corral my brain weasels. I will likely need reminders and you will too. But we have a way to fight back.

Yesterday, I posted on facebook asking for resources about discovering one’s personal style. After a few replies that were on topic, it quickly became off topic so I deleted it. The off-topics weren’t bad; the people were trying to be helpful. But they were off-topic. I didn’t want suggestions of what I could do now. I wanted resources to learn what my style might be. Resources to learn what looks good on me. Throwing a blazer over what I normally wear doesn’t answer that question. It might still look bad on me. I do appreciate the attempts though.

I am writing this to answer why though. Why am I looking at this topic? In my normal work life, I wear khakis and a company polo shirt. 5 days per week. It is very functional and requires no thought other than adding a new colored shirt every other year. I mostly sit in my office, with little face-to-face contact every day. Therefore, I have 0 need to dress any differently in my day-to-day.

I want to do this for a few reasons. The biggest one is to deal with my own negative self-image. How would dressing stylishly do that? Ideally, I would look different and better in my own eyes. Once I discover what looks good on me, I hope to learn to like the look of the guy who looks back at me. I hope that others see that style and think it is interesting. For the most part, I don’t need to look at myself and I definitely don’t want to look at myself. I am near-sighted enough that my morning routine is largely a blur in the mirror. The times I do see myself clearly, I keep that to as short of a time as possible. The number of people who believe I look good (in whatever context that might be) can be counted on one hand. So I want to feel better about myself, at least occasionally.

I also want to further distinguish myself from my father. Given our recent relationship (okay last decade or so), I want to ensure I don’t look like him. And I do think I look like him. So I want to dress radically differently them him. The style I would like would be expensive so it would have to be slow.

Outside of work, my normal clothes are jeans and a t-shirt, maybe a sweatshirt if it is cold, and my ball cap. If it is some place semi-nice, I do have my khakis and I will wear a bold colored t-shirt under a button down. I do have a few suits for really nice occasions. But living in a college town, I can get away with a much more casual dress, even to some place nice.

One of the suggestions is look at people who you think are stylish and try to emulate them. The problem is the same as for many women; the male role-models are unrealistic for most body types. I don’t have the sleek, athletic build of a Hollywood superstar. I doubt a form-fitted suit would look good on me. But looking at GQ’s top 50 best dressed men of 2022, I would like to pull off the look of a Daniel Craig, Matt Smith, Josh O’Conner, or Taika Waititi (when dressed for the red carpet). But I don’t have their body shape.

I also look at what some of my friends do. I am envious of my Baronry of the Flame friends who dress up on occasion for the heck of it.

To the best of my ability to know, I believe I have a triangular shaped body. Not uncommon for an aging man. I like the look of tweed suits with bold waistcoats or shirts. I like suspenders. I like well pressed trousers with turned up hems. Becky thinks I look good in single-breasted jackets with double vents. I would love to wear interesting colored ties, tied with unusual knots. I don’t want to be a head-turner but someone that after the first glance, you go “he looks interesting.”

Anyway, the quest will be a look one, especially since there is no real need. But even men have body image issues so I wanted to share that.

Late last week, my wife caught COVID and there was a reasonable chance, I might catch it too. Depending on if/when that happened, it might mean I would miss my elevation!

That got me thinking about when exactly do life transitions happen.

For becoming a Peer, there doesn’t seem to be a great agreement about it. Each of you reading this will be convinced you are right and I assure you, the Peer next to you has a different idea.

Shortly after being put on Vigil, I was asked to join the order as a new vigilant is called up. I declined (see the Liminal space post). Is just being put on Vigil enough to make one a Peer? This person thought so and in some discussions, others though so too.

Except, I am not part of the listserv yet. The Order secretary says I must wait until I am elevated. So in their mind, I am not a Peer until that ceremony happens. My original plan was to have my Vigil at Baroness Wars (late August) and Elevation at Coronation (mid September). I had some laurel wreath buttons I wanted on my jerkin. I asked if I could wear them at the vigil. I was told “no, it was too far until the Elevation,” Again, there are those who feel the elevation ceremony is what makes the transition happen.

I think about other events too. When is one married? Modernly, it doesn’t really matter in some places. For those who live in places with domestic partnerships, marriage can be when you say it is. Now, the government might care for taxes purposes. But I can tell you from Human Resources, most insurance companies just need you to say so. Common law marriage is a thing too. I have married my wife three separate times. Which one mattered?

Or let’s take when are you a Christian? Depending on your specific sect, you might just need to declare it. Or you might need to be baptized. Or you might need to be confirmed. Or you might need to be an adult, and give consent to baptism. Not too long ago, it was dogma of some churches that you had to be an adult to be baptized and that is when you were a Christian. Unbaptized babies couldn’t go to Heaven.

When are you an adult? Biologically, that will happen at a specific time but what about culturally? When you had a rite of passage to be so? When you can stay at home on your own? When you can drive? When you can vote? When you can drink? When you can sign contracts?

I am not looking for an answer and I am okay with the fuzziness of it all. I just find it amusing that for these important transitions, we don’t have rigid definitions.

Last week, I attended a mini seminar on confidence. I know, I know, I seem so confident. Sometimes so much so, it has been mistaken for arrogance. But really, I am not confident. I doubt myself constantly. I need outside validation to anchor my own worth to. Am I good husband? Father? Artist? SCAdian? Person? I look to others to tell me that.

That isn’t to say I am always unaware of my own worth. But the seed of doubt is always there.

[Aside: notice I didn’t say “son?” above; there is a lot of baggage there, given the events of the last 18 months or possibly the last 53 years. We just won’t poke that bear.]

Related to that, a (SCA) friend wanted to get to know me better. I sent my SCA resume. They said, “I want to get know you, not what you have done.” That struck me. Are we not the sum of our experiences? But in hindsight, that isn’t who we are. I am not a list of jobs, awards, and things I have made. Those might be signposts that point to who I am. They might be effects of who I am but what is the cause? Who am I?

It is in this state that I entered this mini seminar. I am still trying to work out what it all means. The seminar was ~15 minutes per day for 5 days. How could 5 questions, given over a bit more than an hour, be so hard to answer?

I will have to rewatch the videos but the questions tried to pierce our masks to get to the real person. Who do we want to be? Who do we admire? What do we like about ourselves? What are our gifts/magic? I also remember Honor asked some of these questions as she was trying to find/remind herself.

I had answers to these questions once. I am struggling to find answers to these again.

My friend Lara turned me onto a personal coach for this confidence seminar. She recently posted.

“Hi, I’m Lara. I wanted to tell you why you need to attend the Permission to Show Up Authentically on May 25.

Just last summer, I felt like I was hitting my head on the proverbial wall.

I was struggling with a lot of connections and not getting the goals I truly wanted. I felt like there was no movement, just stagnation.

•==>> I wanted more joyful connections rather than the friction that seemed to be happening.

• ==>> I wanted a recognition that I thought was way overdue.

• ==>> I wanted to get my health numbers stable and felt like I hit a plateau I couldn’t move past.

While working with Christina, I uncovered soooo much. I could probably go on for days and I’m not even sure how we got here.

Now, just 9 months later:

•==>> I’m seeing my connections in a new way because I see myself in a new way.

•==>> I’ve let go of the need for recognition but still tend to get it when I focus on the people who are showing up for me.

•==>> Even my health numbers have finally made a jump too! (And Christina doesn’t talk about food or exercise – at least with me).

I want to tell you what made the difference…

Christina heard me and accepted me exactly where I am. She heard where I wanted to go and challenged me to let go of pieces that I clung to but were not working anyway.

You see I wanted to show up joyful, connected, and electrically creative.

But instead of focusing on how I wanted to show up, I showed up as I thought the world wanted me to and then I got real angry and resentful that who I was wasn’t enough —

•==>> Which made me want recognition even more…

•==>> Which made me want to show up as they wanted me to…

•==>> Which made me resentful that my authentic self wasn’t safe or appreciated…

•==>> Which made me want to put on even more masks (one of which was being a martyr – anyone else?).

•==>> And so the cycle would continue.

It was the stress that kept my health numbers in unsafe areas. It was the part of me that was angry inside for having to hide that made me want recognition even more. And it was these two things that kept me from having the connection I wanted.

What I’ve learned since working with Christina is that when I show up just like I really want to, it breaks the cycle.

I care less about what others think as long as I am showing up as my joyful, electrifying, connected self. I know that other peoples’ actions or reactions aren’t about me and most importantly…

I DON’T HAVE TO CHANGE WHO I AM IN RESPONSE TO SOMEONE ELSE’S JUDGEMENTS OR ACTIONS.

I can show up authentically myself and feel good about it… dare I say even confident about who I am!

Do you want to be more authentic? More confident about who you are, how you relate and what you want?

I mean, we all do, right?

I encourage you to attend Permission to Show Up Authentically on May 25.

I mean, I’m still a work in progress, but for the first time, Christina is showing me that people connect with me because of who I really am instead of a version of myself I think they want.

I can tell you showing up authentically was hard at first. It felt vulnerable and there are times I still have trouble not reacting to others rather than tuning in to how I want to show up… but that’s the work.

Christina will explain it all to you at the event.

It’s a free event you don’t want to miss.

Register for free here=> https://christina-smith.com/show-up-authentically/

Thanks for listening to my story. It’s vulnerable to share and I offer it in hope that it helps you.

xoxo, Lara”

I have to say, a lot of that resonated with me. I seek recognition that I feel I am overdue for. I have cycle of seeking, hiding, pretending. I get angry at criticisms because I feel that I am fraud and you found me out. Or worse, I played the part I thought you wanted and you are telling me you don’t like it. I compare myself to others and try to find my value there.

See, I have always pretended. I moved every four years (or more) between 0 and 25. I was always the outsider. I would change my accent to fit in. I would forget my mistakes from the previous place because no one knew about them but me. I didn’t maintain many friendships because what was the point? I was just going to leave soon anyway. I don’t really remember much. At least, I don’t the way I think others do. I remember specific events in my childhood but I can’t zero in on a specific day.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I always liked Crystal Chamfron because it is a low key event for me. It is generally smaller. I usually don’t have many obligations. So I can spend the time around a fire and drink with friends. When I drink, I don’t doubt. I don’t think I am an alcoholic. I don’t get drunk often and I don’t really drink that often, especially for someone who makes alcohol for a hobby! But I stop pretending when I drink. And I think that person is a good person. He doesn’t doubt himself. He sings because he wants to. He cries because he needs to. He hugs (and with his wife, kisses) because he wants contact. He laughs because it feels good. And He misses places that his rational mind says doesn’t really exist. But the question is, is that who I am? Or is that just another Dionysian mask? Is it just my emotions without doubt to dull them?

At Chamfron, I was pretty drunk and I started singing. Someone (Strawberry, I think) said, “you have a wonderful singing voice.” I said, “I do have a wonderful singing voice.” In my state at the time, I don’t think my response was given in arrogant or boastful way. Simply a quiet, “yeah. I do sing well.” That is something I know.

I recently started learning more about ciders and joined the American Cider Association to gain certifications. I started doing it as a different way to gain external validation. It is achievable. Regardless of how many times I fail, I can simply pay more money and try again until I pass. But is outside validation always wrong? It is something I like and can be good at. That feels alright. Others practice things and gain status but as long as we not doing only because of status, that is okay, right? Oh no, the dreaded cookie. I am not implying I have done anything else just to gain status. I have felt resentful for the recognition not coming because of the things I have done. But for the important things I have done, I didn’t plan on doing them. They just happened.

On the ACA thing. Even if never get to do anything as a certified pommelier, I will feel fulfilled for doing so. And I think that is okay. I felt great for singing Bach Mass in B-Minor. I don’t know that I will ever sing it again. It is okay to want to be good at something.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I am in a weird place. I am adrift because I realize that I don’t really understand myself. I feel okay because I am actively looking at each piece and saying, “is this really me? or is it an act?” I am making choices or at least accepting those pieces I think are me. It will be a long process. Perhaps this is the mid-life crisis, relearning who we are after decades of living.

It has been a while since I posted and I actually have some free time today so I thought I would catch people up.

I started a new job in early November. I am in Human Resources now and had my first baptism by fire for an Open Enrollment. We are just now getting past that. I think I did okay. Unlike my previous position where I had lots of free time, it is a rare day that I have free time now and I am often very tired when I get home. There is so much to learn!

My vinegar processes are back up and running at full speed. It was scary for a bit. Normally, I top off my barrels every two weeks and any given barrel is down about 1/2 cup in that time period. I had to let it go for close to 6 weeks as I waited for more product to come online. I was down close to 2 cups on some barrels! Out of 2 liters that is a lot. But everything is back to normal for now. Of course, we aren’t having SCA feasts and with the latest outbreak, we aren’t having events so who knows what the future will bring.

I had help with in October with cider pressing and the results were pretty good. I need to reward the college kids who helped me.

Glass work is frustrating. I was making a present for Aveline and Ursula and the glass was NOT cooperating. It has also gotten expensive. Between the cost of glass going up, me ruining the glass, and the need to drive across town to fire the glass, I am not sure how much I will continue with it. I may need to do some stained glass pieces instead of fused. I need to use up some of that glass somehow. I also want to do more enameling.

It is also time to switch gears to fiber arts. I need new clothes and I want to work on my cloak embroidery. I still struggle with knowing how to transfer patterns, especially large ones. I will probably have to reach out to some people for that. Like Duke Cellach 🙂

It has been about 3.5 months since I cut off contact with my Dad. While it makes me sad to think about, I am not drinking after every call and I am not being sucked down into his despair. It was the right thing to do (from my POV). I have learned that I am VERY different than my blood family. I don’t know if it my larger circle of friends, more intellectual interests, or what but it is just very obvious that while we share some genetics, our circumstances made us very different. Other than how I look, I like myself. I worked hard to get to a place where I do like myself and I don’t want to be put in whatever box my family wants me in.

My gaming groups are doing well. I am very excited for my D&D campaign. The LOTR games are a bit hit and miss as the holidays have taken a toll on when people can meet.

This post will be long and a bit raw. As a society, we don’t talk about grief and death much. We don’t talk about painful subjects. So I am going to talk about it and hope some of you gain something useful from it.

About 2 months ago, I learned my mother had stage 4 pancreatic cancer and was going to die. My mom also had Crohn’s disease and wet macular degeneration. She was legally blind and in constant pain for the last several years. Related, my father has had memory issues for years and they are getting worse.

Around that time, my mom passed out and was rushed to the ER. I was already planning on going down to Texas from Illinois to see her one last time and now it was more important. It was a terrifying trip. It is about 15 hours to Texas and traffic was heavy and fast. Around Austin, it is a land of massive flying overpasses. As bad as the drive was, the experiences were worse and would continue to get worse.

Over those four days, I drove 32 hours to spend 12 hours with my Mom and only 1 of those hours was with her alone to have meaningful conversation with her. I am glad I got that one hour.

My mom passed away on April 7, 2 days before her birthday. I am weirdly okay with my mom’s death. She was in pain for many years and she is at peace.

The problem is, I didn’t just lose my mom. I have lost my dad as well. It is a weird metaphor that life is a tapestry. The Norns, the Fates, what have you. The last one clips the thread and the story is woven. But that tapestry isn’t meant to have hidden meaning. The threads unravel to slip forth their secrets. When you die, secrets come out. And all of my family’s secrets came out. My dad was much worse than I knew. Tales of abuse surfaced. Tales of his pettiness. Tales of impulsiveness. Tales of wanton spending.

I believe my Dad has frontotemporal dementia. Why? He has many of the symptoms. He doesn’t have weird compulsive physical behaviors but he has many of the emotional symptoms. The lack of empathy. The lack of judgment. Difficulties in understanding things said around him. And the worst is the change in personality. The personality in my Dad’s body is not the one I remember. I had my issues with that man but I believed him to be a good and gentle person. The personality in there now is not. He is the most selfish and disconnected person I know right now.

Among his memory issues were not knowing whether my wife was alive or dead, not knowing whether I was married or divorced, not remembering that he has already told me Mom was sick, not remembering that he has already told me Mom was dead, and not remembering when he had last seen me. According to my sister, he doesn’t remember what errands he has run, doesn’t remember whether he has taken his meds, doesn’t remember signing up for scam offers, etc. He can’t function in his day to day life.

While intellectually I understand he can’t control what is happening to him, I can’t help feeling anger towards the behaviors towards me. Okay. I arrive in Texas late at night. The next morning, I get up, have a quick breakfast, and head to my parents’ house. The idea was I was going to see my mother. My dad’s first things are “do you want to leave your bag here? Make yourself comfortable. Something to eat?” He is almost jovial. I am there to see my dying mother, not for a social call. I get him to hurry up and we go to the hospital. They have a rule (and I was told about it before I left IL), of 1 visitor in a 24 hour period. The hospital staff try to enforce the rule and my dad uses me as an excuse “This is my son who drove all the way from IL”. I don’t like being used as an excuse to break the rules. Dad ignores the rules and comes up with me anyway. My family doesn’t do silence well. I brought books and I am content to be silent if Mom wants to rest. Dad broods. It was an awkward 8 to 10 hours to say the least. The next day, I drive myself to the hospital and I get a little time alone with my Mom.

I take Dad to dinner twice over that weekend. Both times he talks about how he can’t understand how my wife and I speak to each other. It was normal couple conversation as far as I can tell.

I leave and make it back home. Every day is new trauma. If Dad calls, how much is real? The fake cheer and sing-song voice is grating on me. He tells me the same things I already know. I come to hate the phone calls. The secrets come out as various family members tell me things. Sometimes there is despair. Mom goes home and is in hospice care. Reports come in of Dad yelling at the care staff. Eventually Mom passes.

The speed at which Dad does things are dizzying. He is going to move out. He is not going to move out. He is going to have her buried. He is going to have her cremated. He asks over and over if I want any of her things. Do I intend on coming down again? The mixture of cheers and tears is disconcerting. Which is real? Are both?

Then we come to April 28. Three weeks after my Mom has died. I now know for sure that I have lost my Dad as well. My sister, who has been managing the estate and everything else, calls me in tears. Dad has decided he is going on dates. My mom hasn’t even had her final service yet. Can I call and try to talk sense into him? I do so. It was a bad call. He is petulant and childish. Again, this is not the man I remember. He blows me off.

My sister has a Power of Attorney over him and can sort things out.

My Dad and I are very different people before his memory issues. We became very different as we grew apart. I at least respected him. I don’t respect who he is now. I don’t recognize him now.

If he does have this type of dementia, he won’t live long. His brain will continue to decrease, his memories will continue to fade, and his body will eventually break down as well. If he has something else, then I don’t know. I didn’t mourn for my Mom because she is at peace. She is finally out of pain. I do mourn for my Dad. Who he was is gone, even if his body still moves about.

Please see here for the first post about the Solera process.

Yesterday, I finally got the first solera up and running for the Sherry Vinegar Fino. I have one barrel that is a bit over 1 year old now, one that is a ~ 6 months old, and a brand new barrel from last night. In June, I can pour off a liter from the oldest barrel and refill from the younger ones and add fresh vinegar to the youngest one. Thus, the solera will be ongoing and continuous. It also means I need another trip to Trader Joe’s for more cheaper Sherry to turn into vinegar.

A challenge I have is that smaller barrels have higher surface area ratios than larger barrels. I get a lot more evaporative loss (as a percentage). That means I need to top off the barrels before that 6 month mark.

I also need to find worthy consumers of said vinegar and probably do a tasting class on it.