What do you do when you have a baby sleeping on you?

I would take a picture but I can't reach my camera, which is locked away in my trunk.
This little kiddo fights sleep.
He must get it from me.
Late nights of surfing the internet to extend the day, even though I love to sleep.

This is a random entry by the way.

Today we were couch potatoes, but I think it was informative and brain nourishing.  We listened to organ music and mused upon the truth of identity and eternal direction in life.  He actually seemed engaged.  Sometimes it seems as if he gets bored and wants a taste of the screen and keys. Today, it was a sit and listen day. 

Had a little walking. A little drumming. A little high fiving. And plenty to eat; therefore, plenty to let out.
We had a washcloth bath and a change in wardrobe.  His grandfather fed him and there are casualities on his onsie.  He had a gaggle of laughter fits to climax the day before his current nap.

And now, I am hoping his poop juice doesn't leak out again.

I used to find it disgusting, but after putting what comes out into his mouth, it just feel like..I deserve this.  :)  I am glad he is processing the food.

WHICH reminds me of interactions with people.  I think we far too often take in every part of a person.  The things we can digest and can't, and because our systems can't handle some of those products we get sick.
I have a tendency to get sick often.  Everyday, every hour....
Why don't we just absorb the good and excrete the bad?
I suppose the question is more for me. 

Copyright © 2010 Loni Larican Lagula

Ugh..you have my full name again..

...watch church videos...

The advice of the night.

Back to the green.

Falling or Jumping?

Oil on Canvasette.  Sharpie on glass. Clarity.

What else am I supposed to do with it?

to be or not to be?

You know, agency is a difficult lesson to learn.

David Park.

Florence and the Machine.

New brush. 

Size 4

Model: Melanie

Pink.

Turned away.

Covered and engaged by her shadow.

Conversations. I don't know what to think.

But I think I've put the book down.
So how can I think.

Her loins burned with the ash of loss.

Remnant shell of the soul that was sucked below her feet.

She wasn't even looking.

Engaged by the mark on the board.

It wasn't even a full rainbow.

It wasn't the sign of Noah.

It wasn't a covenant.

It was a scratch of distraction

articulated carefully

As if the signature would reveal any significance.

as if you were looking.

the edge of the pitch barren
loiterer

void with answers

mirrors.

no flash.

click.

Ugh.  Sick stomach feeling. Wonder what surprise will come up...

ah ha. I can already see the things that are out of whack. ohh.. too tired to work on them right now.

Tom Ngo

One in the same?  You tell me.

Tom Ngo

You know how everyone always comments on my randomnity?  Possibly hinting of the absurdity of my comments.  They all relate, I just don't tell you how they do.  Now, I would never stake my poor intellectual understanding of standardized construction models against his, but I just had to share.

Tom Ngo - Architectural Absurdity

Too cool.


And, no, probably not the same men.
Still cool though, for both Toms.

The singing Dentist...

once astutely recognized that I only paint people that are leaving. 

I'd like to be in denial about it, but it tends to be the case, dead, dying, leaving, parting. 
Parting is inevitable, but I still get pretty emotional about it. Too emotional, actually.  Unless it's family, because families can be together forever.  If you'd like to learn how that's possible check out http://mormon.org/.

Any emotional connection to my mother is most likely related to her time alive than the time we are apart.


New stuff but old.

She actually left and is in Portland, Oregon now!

Nevermind what's said.

I just thought it was a cool shot.  More than anything, I think putting up this show was a reunion of past past, past, and present and a spattering of future?

My childhood friend, April introduced me to the cafe world back in 2000.  Well, she introduced me to a lot of things, actually.  My ethnic culture on the American continent, my first job, the gospel of Jesus Christ (not directly, but through a friend), and hey, my first downtown show.

We have been chums since elementary school.  I think that suggests the bond will probably never break, especially when it's so easy to call her dad Uncle. 

"The Green Dress"

I think I've learned a lot putting this up, (still learning too). Thankfully, I wasn't alone in the process. I think I would have died if I was.

Tadah!

That's Charlie next to April.  He was the indirect contact a decade ago.

My tongue is sticky.

Rona is next to me.

New friend of the present.

It almost looks like I'm trying to take off my belt.

Didn't make the cut.