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I do declare the following: on this day, November 27,2014, in response to the new Facebook guidelines and any other claim by blog sites and RSS post sites, under articles L.111, 112 and 113 of the code of intellectual property, I declare that my rights are attached to all my personal data, drawings, paintings, photos, texts etc… published on my profile. For commercial use of the foregoing my written consent is required at all times.
Those reading this text can copy it and paste it on their Facebook wall. This will allow them to place themselves under the protection of copyright. By this release, I tell Facebook and other blog sites that it is strictly forbidden to disclose, copy, distribute, broadcast, or to take any other action against me on the basis of this profile and/or its contents. The actions mentioned above apply equally to employees, students, agents and/or other staff under the direction of Facebook, and other RSS style blog sites and other posts.
The contents of my profile include private information. The violation of my privacy is punished by the law (UCC 1 1-308 – 308 1 -103 and the Rome Statute).
All my post are the exclusive property of myself, and any unauthorized copying or reproduction without my written consent is against copyright law. This includes all blogs, comments, posts, samples, or any and other pictorial media, such as paintings and photographs, are the sole property of Artidan/Artidan007, and the original author, myself, my name excluded for confidentiality. Several posts are from published books and are only shown for sample purposes, and possible sales. All material is subject to copyright, and any and all mention should be done with the author’s permission, or it is a breach of the copyright act. I’m not Shakespeare, but then again, he was an amalgamation of Elizebethan writers, and I dare anyone to prove otherwise. Again, copyright Artidan, and IdEgo Creations, Inc. 2008

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NEAT line OPENERS

Ultimately, you are what you believe. Questions hold half the answer. To question is to explore; recitation, while somewhat trustworthy, doesn’t explain the quotation. True understanding can create alternative answers, all relevant to the question, but demonstating there is more than one solution. Truth will stand on its own; impervious to alternative answers, able to withstand an examination of past convictions, producing an assurance of the moral imperative at the very core of our soul.

It can be a figurative slap in the face, to finally understand what you have become; something that you detest, something you are inherently ashamed of and something that rebukes your inner soul. These are discoveries that enhance depression, further an already burning hatred of yourself and don’t give you that necessary pat on the back you need to help you combat the world and become tough enough to withstand the ups and downs of everyday life.

To push through and become what you respect is a prerequisite for positive growth; an upbeat attitude will get you through the day and give you the foresight to plan a future you can live with. Self-respect and fortitude are essential traits to really change your personal outlook on life in general. To enjoy life, smile at the sun and have a spring in your step are the little things that help you appreciate your day; obversely, lingering doubts and a constant wariness of your environment complicates life and enjoy the present, and hopefully plan your future. Post Tramautic Stress hit when you least expect it, and can intantly ruin an otherwise plesant day.

When today’s troubles are overwhelming, when life itself is an unpleasant chore, foreseeing a happy existence is dubious, and carefully laid plans seem like uncertain attempts to accomplish a goal that is unattainable. Today needs a cause; tomorrow a future. You see your future as a continuation of past mistakes: life becomes a tumultuous merry-go-round of despondency, a state of progressively painful emotional torture that becomes horror without end, precursors of an ultimate and inevitable horrific end. To worry over tomorrow is an unwelcome burden, for today’s troubles are sufficiently troublesome in themselves. Your life generates a sense of hopelessness that never leaves – a recurring, doleful nightmare from which you never wake, so absorbing it mingles with your overall outlook and sense of reality.

Ultimately, depression and fear control your life, while happiness and joy are abstract concepts enjoyed by other people – people with families, people with jobs they love, people that have a full and happy life. I’ve become an observer, someone that can only watch a joyous crowd, while vicariously experiencing the good things in life…the things you want but have sadly passed you by.

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            It’s always hard to admit you are probably the worst screw-up in the history of useless people, but when you have to, you have to.  There’s a point you reach when you realize just how bad it really is; the point where you see through your lies long enough to realize you don’t even know how bad you are because you are so used to lying to people about what’s really going on with you that you actually believe it yourself. 

It’s as if you’ve hypnotized yourself; you are so used to looking and living the lies you tell everyone that when you finally see the truth, even if for just a moment, the hypno-job you’ve done on yourself pops up and glosses over everything right away.  Your false persona returns because what you saw in that split second scared you so much you had to jump back into whatever dark hole you’ve made to hide in: because you realize you have such a bad problem that you don’t know if you can fix it.  Hell, the problem scared you so much you don’t even want to look at it, let alone figure out how to make things right again. 

Finally, you get enough courage and drag it out into the daylight; the sunlight hurts.  Ugly, festering sores and open wounds are covered in puss; here and there, a scab formed over something you actually had the strength to deal with, but most of what you see is rotting, putrefying problems that slash at your insides and gangrene growing around your heart.  The smell makes you gag, while the gross moral decay turns your stomach.  Then you realize you’re looking at yourself: then the retching, stomach heaves begin.  Along with rivers of shame and torrents of tears, you get a good look at what you’ve become.  Wow.  It isn’t pretty. 

After taking an honest, personal moral inventory, you notice some of the decomposing problems have formed a slight scab over the surface; the problem is still ugly and hard to look at, but you have looked at it, and you recognize it’s your problem.  No one else is going to see it.  No one else even knows it’s there: especially after the con job, you’ve done to cover the more unsightly ones.  When you eventually take responsibility for what you’ve become, you stop pulling the punches, making up “mitigating” circumstances, and start to understand a little more about yourself. 

You’re not that different from everyone else.  Everyone has problems.  You’ve just admitted to yourself that you have a lot of work to do before you’re ready to look at yourself in the mirror again.  At least you’ve made a start.  You know what you need to fix.  Now you need to honestly figure out a strategy that will really open yourself up again, open enough to let fresh air inside to blow away the dust and clean the dirt that’s piled up in the corners.  If you’re totally honest, you recognize what were complete falsehoods.  You might even reach the point where you realize your whole life was a complete lie.  There.  It’s all out in the open now. 

Alongside the grossness you hate, there’s still a spot or two that’s clean and shiny.  All of a sudden, you see it for what it really is.  Hope.  Despite the difficult problems, you still have hope for yourself.  That’s good.  Without hope, there’s nothing but negativity and a bleak outlook on life.  You don’t want to weigh things out.  There’s a lot of bad stuff floating around inside, but you still have hope.  That gangrene that was growing around your heart doesn’t smell so bad.  At least you’re the only one who can smell it.  And you’re the only one who can make it go away. 

You’re the only one with the power to change your life.  You’re the one that needs to believe you can change things and believe things will be better again.  Now you have hope.  Now you need the faith to really understand that your problems can go away if you make them.  They will only go away if you let light shine on your dark secrets.  You need to stay in the sunshine to keep track of the problems; you need to be aware of them, or else the lies and the fake stories come back.  They will always be there.  They’re easier to believe.  Easier to tell other people.  Easier to look at.  But they become harder to fix.  The longer you keep lying to yourself, the harder it is to start telling the truth.  You don’t need to be told what to do.  You’ve looked at the nasty brutal crud that grew inside you; you also felt the healing effects of honesty and truth. 

You need to hold up honesty, truth, belief, strength and courage.  Only then will you see those little shiny spots of hope that are scattered around, close, very close, and just nearby your heart.  You see those specks of hope, and it reminds you of the clean feeling you had when you sat down and looked at yourself honestly.  You remember, and you recall that if you have faith in yourself, you might be able to not just look at your problems, but act upon that faith and start to clean yourself up again.  All of a sudden, you realize you’re not useless.  You have a lot of work to do.  In fact, you have so much work to do that you are going to become the busiest, happiest and strongest person you know.  You realize you have faith in yourself, and you know you have a plan to get things back together again.  Now it’s time to start planning how to change your life from a jumbled stinking morass of lies, into an organized, decent and progressive life that you are proud to call your own. 

Suddenly, you conceive methods to focus your attention on the good things in life; you understand how giving to others is important, and you realize that doing things that are productive are good as well.  You think of giving.  You think of getting.  You think of do’s and you understand don’ts.  Suddenly, a real plan starts to take shape, and you realize that if you follow this plan you can begin to live a good, upstanding, essential and important life that gives you and everyone that knows you, pride and respect.

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In 1880, the philosopher Thomas Malthus made a prediction that is now affecting our society in ways he couldn’t foresee, but are eeirily similar to his general theory on population control.  When you remove war, plague and other problems, population growth will skyrocket, unless a natural disaster occurs.  Taken alone, this is an excellent argument for space colonization and exploration.  We need to re-examine what is important in life, and put the world’s fabulous wealth to work on it.

Malthus theorized that population growth would soon overwhelm the planet’s resources, then overused and depleted resources would be insufficient to supply the world; therefore, people would die off.  He calculated that technology and resources expand arithmetically, but people grow geometrically.  Geometric growth is the old double a dollar trick: if you take a dollar, then double it, double it again, and keep doubling it everyday, you would have over a million dollars within a month.  It’s a straightforward mathematical progression, and when applied to our population, it’s easy to see that there will be too many humans for this Earth to sustain if we keep increasing our population the at the current rate.  Longer life through better medicine adds to the problem.  Here’s how it applies to literature and writers. 

In the Victorian age, there were a great many readers, and every writer, if they were able to create something worth reading, would stand a good chance of being published.  Today, there are thousands of writers out of work, just because publishers are inundated with manuscripts and have the luxury of selecting only the very best.  It could be argued that some of the so called “great” writers of the past wouldn’t stand up to the numerous rejection slips every author receives before someone decides to take a chance and publish their book.  There are many other reasons the Victorian age produced so many new ideas and so many new authors, but the main reason was an empty playing field, and an audience thirsting for new and bizarre ideas.  Now the playing field is packed, the benches and stadium  crowded, along with the dressing room and the parking lot.  It’s hard to find an original idea that is truly unique, because with so many minds thinking of every permutation and every twist and turn, it is hard to come up with something fresh and original.  Some say that’s why
Hollywood does so many re-makes of old ideas.  With so many people writing free blogs, or publishing their stories for free on certain websites, it’s hard to get a publisher to pay good money for a story.  That is, if they actually get a frustrated talented author to withstand the long wait lists and offer a story that is fresh and interesting.  It really begs the question, why do we read what we read.  Will anyone ever read this?  Chances are, with the countless, unknown and possibly excellent blogs clogging the internet, no one ever will.  People read less books today.  TV and the internet changed the dynamics in ways we are still studying.

Another factor is society’s overall success and increasing level of education.  To get a half decent job, you need education.  Today, it is quite common for someone to possess B.A., Master’s Degree or PhD.  That means a greater proportion of our society can write, and write well.  With a hulking pile of unread and well written manuscripts clogging an Editor’s “in basket”, it’s quite possible that some of the well known writers of the past would not be published today.  Perhaps their story lacks sparkle, their writing style is trite and outdated, or the author couldn’t deal with the countless rejection slips that are now part of the job.  Based on this, what was published in the past might not be published today.  A loss to literature?  Not quite.  We have literature coming out our ying-yang, and a book about talking animals discussing their political situation, although clever and satirical, doesn’t sound like a real page turner.  Sorry George Orwell, but Animal Farm might not pass muster and end up in some rejected file.  Possibly.  Television, radio and the Internet are changing our society in ways that will not be fully understood until some future date.  Perhaps when sociologists have had the time to read everything and make an original conclusion.  

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Banks don’t even enjoy art…they just look at the price tag…like a Monet, Turner or DaVinci…they know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
I recently had a revelation: I now understand the significance of starving children holding out tiny hands for food and the shiny brass plaques on the door of a bank.
They don’t need handouts…all the uninformed line up to deposit money in their coffers…the banks turn around and invest this money, make a killing in interest, then charge you whenever you need to withdraw enough to buy food to live. A capitalist might think that’s a normal attitude, but a realist understands it’s the same way rich people have been sticking it to the underdog since the days of Babylon and the building of the Egyptian pyramids. The shivering, starving, and huddling masses have the upper classes walking all over them, getting them to wash their cars, and then not even paying them enough to get a drink of water. Bottled water is not cheap…next time I blow a buck on a bottle of water, I’ll make sure it’s a Perrier.
I don’t like getting walked on, but I have so many footprints on my bad back I look like the path to a beer stand on the fourth of July. I can’t afford a bank account…they don’t pay interest, and they have fees for every transaction I’d ever make, so it’s basically cheaper just to keep the money under my mattress. Cash only…sorry, no cheques. No wonder the ruling classes are trying to institute a cash-less society…if your money is in the hands of a greedy bank, you don’t have as much as your little booklet states you have…even if you close your account, they charge you for that…it’s easier to withdraw all your money, then never use the account again. Unfortuntely, that will work in reverse…they automatically withdraw monthly expenses, and if you have nothing, it shows up as a negative amount…after a few years, they’ll come knocking, demanding what you now owe them…and you don’t have to do a single darn thing.
No one ever said life is fair…it’s nasty, brutal and short…Edmund Burke made that comment a long time ago, and it’s as true today as it was then. It seems the moral of all this is you should stick it to your neighbour before he gets a chance to stick it to you. Never trust anyone with a smile and an Italian suit…and, stay away from banks with shiny brass plaques on their doors…those brass standards are a domineering, commercial group of investors…investors that need your money to make them more money, and you won’t see dime one of it…but you will see them taking dimes a plenty for the priviledge of letting them use your money to make them more money. Life always goes around and what goes around doesn’t always come back…it ends up in the luxuriant pockets of those bankers that always smile when you make a nice deposit. Need a loan? We can help…you’ll pay it off for the rest of your life, but we’ll lend you a few bucks…banks were created by someone with lots of money, and they will continue as long as money is a class symbol, and turns life into a endless fight to get your fair share…an oxymoron, as your share is never fair. Too bad, so sorry…we’re closed…use our credit card…only 15% for each transaction.

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This was a real comedy of errors.  After a bad accident, I began painting again, as part of my physiotherapy. I have always painted.  After a while, I became a better artist (but still disabled), and created a new style, unique and enjoyable.  After people have bought some, I suppose I’m now considered a struggling artist (note pic of bamboo), and have sold several similar paintings. (now a veritable designers list of colours…)

The painting in question here went for $75.00.  That person then sold it to someone for $300.00.  That person sold it for $950.00.  Then that person sold it again for $2,800.00.  I found this out because the last person wanted to confirm my “pedigree” and purchase more of my art. 

When I found out how much he paid, I was both angry and elated that my work could command such a price.  Then again, it made me wonder why I couldn’t have sold it for so much.  Like a hall of mirrors, artists are elevated in a buyers eyes, and they sometmes only see the actual painting in a monetary value. 

The fact that they like the painting helps, but when they think it is worth more than they paid, they become like an investment banker and only consider profit.  I find the whole transaction hilarious, as it really does define the modern art scene on many levels.  If a famous artist can paint 3 bands of colour, then charge 5 figures, the art ceases to be something of beauty and is reduced to a mere asset: something someone says is worth money.  Whether it is pleasing to look at is no longer an issue; commercialization has invaded the art world and now dictates who and what sets the price.  Some of my art can be seen at www.ringo.com/danaef, or www.myspace.com. or www.spoiledink.com/danae, or contact me and I will send some examples.  By the way, the top of this blog is part of a larger painting I created in watercolours. 

I’ve never bothered with self-promotion, I’m still working on a web-site, but anyone interested in my art can access a wide selection and a good price.
I’m at danaefitzgerald@shaw.ca
a jaded but honest artist

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