Natalia Goncharova (1881-1962) Winter (1908) State Russian Museum, St. Petersburg

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Natalia Goncharova (1881-1962) Winter (1908) State Russian Museum, St. Petersburg
The Valleys and Mountains - Inari Krohn ,2018.
Finnish,b.1945-
Oil on canvas, 95 x 100 cm.
František Kaván (Czech, 1866-1941), Na louce při měsíčku [A meadow in the moonlight], 1895. Oil on cardboard on canvas, 32 x 43 cm.
Albert Marquet (French, 1875 - 1947) - Sidi Bou Saïd, N/D
oil on canvas
Gary Bunt
http://kirstensims.blogspot.com.es/
Kirsten Sims
Felix Vallotton (Switzerland, 1865 - 1925) The White Beach, 1913 oil on canvas 67.95 cm (26.75 in.), Width: 53.98 cm (21.25 in.)
Ronald Lampitt
Agnes Martin - Bones #2 oil on canvas - 1959
"I’ve been doing some research. In real life there is no algebra."
Twin Peaks (1990)
Poor advice
Being permanently single can be hard. I don't mean the occasional loneliness, though there's that, nor the self-criticism, though there's that too. I mean having to hear the poor advice that many people decide to bestow upon you, unprompted. Quite pitiful advice. Stuff like "be confident". As if that were not obvious enough. What would be valuable advice is difficult to give. It requires thought, knowledge of personal details, experience. Not everyone can give advice, and among those that can, not many can give *you* the right advice.
A good friend gave me a good diagnostic recently, after a failed attempt at a relationship: I had made myself too available. I had lost independence and perspective. My friend was exactly right. He knew me well, and is generally a sharp observer. The advice was simple, and I knew it already. I just hadn't realized that it applied to me in that situation. Advice should be less of "score more goals" and more of "you're leaving your left flank unguarded".
These days, people who give me poor advice I didn't ask for get a withering remark from me. It's my little contribution to the world.
Simple Men
Disclipline
Vastly overrated, in my opinion. I have some of it, and I use it for good, as in keeping my house passably clean, and paying bills, but I also use it for evil, as in slavish compliance with policies I haven't thoroughly analyzed, or carrying on in untenable environments.
These days of voluntary joblessness I'm working quite a bit, taking lectures, doing homework assignments, building software again, making a dent in some long-neglected subjects. I notice that my need for social networks, or constant stream of news, has gone down. I'm entertained by my work, so I'm happy to dive into it.
If discipline allows me to soldier on through shit, and as a consequence, I do just that much of the time, is this a good thing?
East is East. Archie Panjabi's send-off of Bollywood dances.
http://monicatramos.tumblr.com/
Sunset is an all day process
Making do
I have a dangerous capacity to perform my duty. It's not always the right thing to do. Making do, that's another capacity of mine with destructive potential. But then, greed only seems good when Gordon Gecko sells it.
Looking at my own experiences, I wonder why I didn't look for different friends when my life in New York started to annoy me, or why I didn't make more of an effort to meet girls when I was in Seattle. I rebuke myself for staying so long in jobs I wasn't enjoying, for almost driving my own health down.
I've had plenty of adventures, I've done plenty of things for pleasure, and I also like knowing I've performed my duty. We all need some help realizing we're stuck in a rut.