Planting a seed

The greenhouse continues to provide surprises. Seeds on which I had given up, mostly peppers, have sprouted. Not all of the cells have produced, yet enough that I should not have to replant to fill the order for our buyer. The tomatoes have developed their first set of true leaves, as have the mustards and kales. I am resisting taking pictures for I want to wait until the plants are of a size that impresses, and this will not happen until the plants have established a better root system. It is still very early,

My regular readers may have noticed the lack of poker content for some time now. It is not because I have stopped playing, I assure you, yet I have cut back on the amount of time spent playing. It is more that I have not had any hands or sessions that stand out as remarkable. There was one hand that I initially thought had potential, and I even went as far as taking Akileos’ advice and posting it on 2+2’s forum; yet, in the end, I realized that it was no more than a case of overplaying my hand. It was a valuable lesson for me, albeit perhaps one I already should have learned, or, if not, because I am new to PLO, one that otherwise might be obvious to others, so I let it go. Sometimes my enthusiasm for the game blinds me to my actual naiveté, resulting in reflections upon hands that are not as well-considered as they could be.

Despite a greater time away from the tables, my interest in the game remains,. Again, following the advice of Akileos (who should consider establishing his own outlet for witticisms and insight), I have started reading the previously mentioned forums. And, after an hour or so of that, I often have an overwhelming desire to return to the tables and knock out a hundred hands or so. However, as is often been the case, I first have to remember, then decide what exactly needs to be done elsewhere. (It is sometimes difficult to differentiate between absent-mindedness and addiction.) If I have no pressing obligations, I’ll indulge.

Today the weather was again changeably unpleasant, so I indulged. Basic chores had been completed, DW was running errands, and there were good tunes on the radio, so I settled in at two tables, and in the course of 200 hands, managed a 175% return on my buy-in. I quit when DW called to say she was coming home, tidied the kitchen and got ready for evening chores: turning on the heater in the greenhouse, tucking in the ducks, bringing our outdoor cat inside along with a bucket of firewood I retrieved from the barn.

As I was building a fire, I noticed two issues of “October” on the coffee table. “October” is perhaps the pre-eminent periodical for art, art theory and art criticism. I qualified that last statement because recently the pedagogy the editors follow has come under scrutiny. Hey, things change! Nevertheless, it makes for a good, even if slightly anachronistic read, and compliments a growing library of art-related periodicals, all courtesy of my DW.

Some readers may recall that last winter I buried ten-plus years of art magazines in a compost pile, along with a coyote, and videotaped the event as an homage of sorts to the artist Joseph Beuys. Purge Art. It served as both a catharsis and tribute as I readied myself to return to the art world after a four-year hiatus. DW was behind the camera for that piece, and I can only assume that she grasped the importance of the project while at the same time not really knowing, yet anticipating, what came next.

What followed were discreet forays back into a community of artists. Yet, after years of no art (I had not the time or inclination to read those magazines that had continued to come in the mail even though we had not renewed our subscriptions) I found that I was woefully ignorant of all that was au currant. In addition, I had forgotten many names of key past artists. One mention of this disability and the DW knew what she had to do.

I now have subscriptions to no less than four art periodicals, plus some back issues of other related publications, that demand my attention. They are obligations of a sort, first, because I am somewhat obliged to acknowledge the DW’s advocacy on my behalf, and second, because I owe it to myself to know what the hell I’m talking about as I venture forth into what can be treacherous waters. (Other artists will know of what I speak.) Yet there is another advantage to having and reading these magazines. Just as reading the forum at 2+2 inspires me to hit the tables, ArtForum, Parkett, Frieze, Art & Antiques, Flash Art, Critical Inquiry and October will get me back to the proverbial drawing board… if I have time to make art after all of the reading.

So, dear readers — not to beat you over the head with the extended metaphor — just as my little seeds in the greenhouse are responding to a nurturing environment, so am I.