Robusticalness

My right eye has been blind for over two years. I noticed that my brain was sad. The occipital lobes were not getting input from the right visual field, and that made my brain sad.

I'm not sure since when, but my brain isn't sad anymore. I guess the neural nets and associations found something else to do. What that is, I have no idea. 

In related health news, my doctor is trying to get my dangerously high blood pressure under control. I am on 4 different meds taken 7 times a day, and the BP still is up in the 170s/90s. Yikes. Stroke territory.

It's been this way for awhile and I jokingly and correctly noted that having two kidneys would fix it. They did ultrasonics on the heart and kidney. The kidney has a benign tumor which eventually could be a problem due to bleeding. My aorta is slighltly distended and I have a leaky valve, a heart murmur I've had since birth. The arteries look good no blockages thatnks to modern medicine.

I forget how much of a viking* I am. Seriously, for a guy slightly above average, I feel so much taller and bigger than I actually am, and apparently people pick up on that. I'm startled when I see a picture with my group of fellow big boys and realize I'm the shrimp. But I don't feel like that. 

I'm like the USS Nevada; torpedoed and sunk at Pearl Harbor, refloated and repaired, fought in the Atlantic, survived an atomic blast at Bikini Atoll. Sunk by practice naval gunfire in 1948. Well, perhaps not exactly the USS Nevada, but that's how I feel.

I got some welding in after casting more figures for Grandpa Weed's Funeral. I am very close to having to go to magnifying glasses as the cheaters are not good enough anymore. I do have a magnifying lens for my welding helmet. I don't know where it is. Anyway, here's some pics.

Have another.

Here's my work table in the kitchen. Never trust an artist that isn't a slob.

Way Past My Deadtime

I definitely think humans are ape shaped bugs. We go through larval stages our whole life, we just don't shed a shell in between.

I am in the silverback stage right now. I can only pity anyone that never reaches this state of - for lack of a better word - wisdom.

People lament wasted youth. Youth is to be wasted. It is the end years of accumulated effort and intellect that cannot be wasted. You feel the power.

At 67 I may be at my most powerful, although I could plateau into my 90s, but the Kurman side says no dice. So I have a limited time offer to dispense both advice and charity. Being childless, I choose my heirs on merit. I have given monies to people I am not related to but wish I was. I love my blood family, but I have chosen my extended family, through character and competence, to reward with what meager sums I have.

I will continue to do so until I die

I had a 20 year plan, now it is probably 7, before I die. My best and easiest plan is a glorious death, which will be glorious. Still and all, Always Be Recording, and therefore I will build a roadside shrine 

Grandpa Weed's Funeral. 

This is an ongoing art installation. It is a jar with my ashes, and around the jar, at not more than 1/10th scale, are my grieving mourners and curious strangers. Bronze. A fund set up to produce more figures aftyer I die, in perpetuity or the money runs out.

I've been to so many funerals where I said wow all these people show up, I aint; getting these numbers being an old curmudgeon. So I started to create my own mourners at 1/12 scale. And trhen it turned into a collection, a glazy of characters as happens when you work on personal mythology. From there, ritual, from there, science, from there, everything or nothing, the Singularity.