I used to have horrible nightmares. I’m talking the kind that resulted in waking up screaming bloody murder. Several trips to childhood therapists and neurologists who hooked electrodes up to my scalp while I was asleep yielded what was probably a conclusion anyone who knew me could have drawn: This kid’s mind is just super-active. 

Fast forward 33 or so years and you have my daughter Gillian experiencing exactly the same thing: There have been a few occasions recently where I’ll be sleeping prior to coming in to do my shift and Little G will begin to moan in her sleep, ramping up quickly to a bona-fide nocturnal freak out complete with the underpinnings of what some might mistake for demonic possession. In the hazy daze of being rattled awake, I’ll go in to find my daughter in an extreme state of distress. Once she starts to come to and realize it’s daddy, she calms down enough to express that she’s had a nightmare. The regular theme of the nightmares as of late are what sound like hellhounds: Angry dogs with red eyes and lots of saliva dripping from exaggerated fangs. They’re only active at night, and apparently their nails make quite a racket on the tile floor in our kitchen. For the most part standard, garden-variety creatures from my childhood bad dreams, but it was those red eyes that troubled me.

 After dinner tonight, Gillian matter-of-factly informs me that she will - in fact - be having another nightmare this evening, and the dogs with the red eyes will be the protagonist of these dreams. Fortunately, in the dream she described for tonight, the dogs will simply be lapping up table scraps under our kitchen table (this scenario being a result of a recent attempt to downplay the intensity of the dreams these critters have been appearing in - turn them into hellpuppies, or something like that.) Then the wellspring of evidence percolates up into our interaction: She grabbed an action figure that at one time belonged to me. I somehow acquired Skeletor (remember Masters of the Universe?) on a band road trip to Arizona years back, and it ended up in her toys. As Gillian holds up Skeletor, she says that this “guy” is kinda scary, and it hit me: Skeletor’s red eyes are the fuel for the nightmares that include the hell hounds and their red eyes! Eureka! That had to be the ticket - it was in fact the proverbial smoking gun. I’d cracked the code, recovered the Maltese Falcon, so to speak. I mean, look - he’s got a kind of angry look about him don’t you think?

So, in a moment of parental intuition, I decided to “modify” Skeletor and make him a little bit more user-friendly for a four-year-old.  I went to the cupboard in the kitchen grabbed one marshmallow, went into my office, acquired a Sharpie pen, and got to work.

When I was done six seconds later, I’d  created a creature that should result in less frightening mental cinema: Enter Happy Head - Slayer of Nightmares.

I won’t know until tomorrow if my idea made things better, but for the moment, I’m going to pat myself on the back and consider it a job well done.

This year marks the family’s first venture into gardening. So far so good, as far as I can tell… Keep things watered and weeded and they’ll grow big-n-strong, right? Not exactly, but it really does seem to boil down to sun, water, weeding and a little human love and interaction, which I am defining here as “plant whispering”.

I have become a motivational speaker for produce.

 Now that I’ve begun, I can better understand why it is that folks give up the so called “rat race” and take up farming, gardening, woodworking, beekeeping, etc. There is something inherently calming about it. Not to mention, gardening can be - and often is - a family affair. When my daughter isn’t making dirt angels, she’s assuming the role of family dog, chasing the squirrels and other critters out of the yard before they get to the harvest. And, when she’s not deterring critters, she’s helping grab components for the evening meal.

I present my daughter: The Celtic Cherub, Child of the Corn, Carrot Top, The Princess of Produce:

  

An amazing event. More information is available at the link below:

 www.paint-in.org  10AM-6PM Thursday October 9th, in celebration of what would have been John Lennon’s 68th birthday. The Imagine Paint-In is an event inspired by the desire to commemorate a man who not only helped change the landscape of popular music, but also an an individual who was an advocate of the idea that world piece is in fact attainable. The Imagine Peace paint-In is done in honor of that vision.Come join visual artists, musicians, other peacenicks and John Lennon’s fans for a day of art sharing of ideas and the perpetuation of PEACE…

 May Pang - John’s girlfriend from 1973-1975 - will be on hand to talk with people and sign copies of her photgraphy book Instamatic Karma.

A CALL FOR ARTISTS!!!

I am looking to assemble a group of artists and non-artists alike who would like to work collectively on a larger-scale piece to be created on-site in Civic Center Park on the day of the event - Thursday, October 9th. The nature of the piece is still to be determined, but think of a work of roughly 10′-20′ in dimension.  Ideas are certainly welcome, although I already have a few to work from, and all of them relate to the themes of John Lennon and peace. Contact me if you are interested:

 stevemillin@995themountain.com.

Come on out. Play hooky from work. As John said in the children’s book adaptation to the animated movie Yellow Submarine: ” Why not mix, hook up, mingle?”  …And all in the name of a peaceful existence in the memory of a man who dared to dream… …To IMAGINE…  

Mountain biking is great fun, and living along the Front Range means a great number of trail heads with short commutes. Getting my bike up and running again means more of these ventures into the hills. Now, I’ve never actually encountered an off-road unicyclist, but I have seen videos of them, like those posted here and here. I think I’ll stick to two wheels for now.  Then, I encounter what I think to be the epitome of humankind’s desire to conquer nature and subdue our own fears of the Unknown: A Brit wants to summit Mt. Everest on a unicycle!! He intends to descend on the thing as well. Will this end in disaster, or will it open the doors for even more creative forms of “extreme” unicycling? Stay tuned… Here’s a link to the story, which includes some tasty pics as well…

Detours are common when I Google things. What might start out as a search for bike panniers could eventually lead to a Chex Mix recipe when traveling through the various links found on a given website. Such was the case encountering the urban artist Blu: I think my search was for “injectable insulation for finished interior walls.”

I never even got close to that target.

Somehow, through the tangled web that is the Internet, I wandered into urban art that won’t keep my house warm this winter, but has an effect like an Alka-Seltzer on one’s mind.

…Better yet, think of it as synaptic tai chi.

I’m not about to attempt to classify or critique Blu’s art, other than to state the obvious fact that it is innovative and frankly, unlike anything I have ever seen. That said, enjoy the video.

…And yes, I did ask for permission before linking to it.

 

On this seventh anniversary of 9/11, take a moment to reflect on what is good in your life.

Never forget, but at the same time, let’s aim for a better world for our children, shall we?

.

May your heart and your day be filled with PEACE…

   

It’s been a particularly busy week, hence the lack of posts.. I’ll scold myself and send me to bed without supper (do people actually DO that anymore????) Anyway, I digress…I finally got one of my mountain bikes back up and running, so now I ride just about everywhere again. It’s been years since that  was the norm, and now that I can resume this wonderful component of my life, I plan on  making up for lost time. Don’t I look happy, not knowing what hell I’m gonna get later for not helping out with the canning?   

  

My wife and I have numerous fruit trees on our property, five of which are peach. We have been picking peaches on and off for days now, and today was the big “canning” day. So, while my kitchen smelled of peaches and estrogen, I hopped on my now functioning bike and pedaled away as fast as I could. Don’t get me wrong: I love that Lisa and I have embraced this idea of eating our yard and effectively becoming yard quakers, but the newly-revitalized bike was calling… In praise of my lovely wife and her guests (help), I am looking forward to a cold winter, looking out my window at the frozen world outside, while enjoying  the fruits (literally) of our yard, and our labor. This is only a small portion of what was actually canned… 
   
UPDATE: We haven’t cleared out all of the fruit from every tree, but the haul that got canned today totaled some 72 jars - many of which went home with the members of the “hen party” who were on hand to supervise and provide manual labor. When I was helping with the cleanup, I noticed that we had exactly 42 jars. Canned peaches are the meaning of life?  …Could be.