Just because you have moved on does not mean your former partner has.  The average abusive partner will continue to stalk their victim for 2.4 years after the end of the relationship.

Sometime a man, because we are of the male species can be such a fool. We are big boys and still picking our noses and trying to find a frog to put down the back of an unsuspecting girl. But I am man enough to admit I was wrong and am not to proud to eat crow for the one I love.

After being separated for a while I realized that I was still in love with the woman I had been seeing for two years. I tried to date but it just didn't happen, no interest. Why because she fits me, and I fit her we were made for each other. I have spent these several months waiting and wondering and pondering the things that she told me when we split up. In a nut shell, I tried to be everything for everybody, friends, distant family and sometimes complete strangers. In doing so, I took my love for granted and had my priorities out of whack. Everything that she told would happen did. Talk about an eye opener, It hit me hard as to what I wanted and needed in my life. It was her and a warm home and family that consist of a tight knit bond of Children, step children.....ah scratch that let's just say.....our children and grand children. When it comes down to the end that is all that matters, being with the ones you love.

Well Good news I received a text about 2 weeks ago and it was her, and she said she missed me. I was quick to text back and let her know I missed her also. We have been texting back and forth, she brought her youngest son to see me last week and it was great. She and I decided that we needed to get together and talk. Well we did, we talked for a long time, we still love each other and we both miss. So we are going to work this all out. I have to be patient because at this time she is seeing someone but not at all happy. I understand, I put her in that position and I can live with that and I told her. I will wait until she has that part of her life taken care of (which will be shortly) The best is worth waiting for.

 I am excited because I have made some big changes. First of all, I have moved everybody that needed a place to stay but didn't have a job out of the house. I am not a hotel, it is a home(some people take in stray cats, me it's distant cousins and friends going through relationship problems). No more weekend parties with rowdy friends and neighbors I have stopped drinking completely. NO more counseling friends on their relationship problems, they are big boys and girls they can figure it out on their own. Change in priorities The loves in my life my lady and children will come first, second and last. They are the ones that I am here for, their provider, protector, refuge and comfort. Not to say I am withdrawing from society but the family is first and foremost.

Just a few more things I want to share : I have almost always in the past sent a special rose to the girls I have dated over the years growing up and even when I married my first wife in 1984. Each Valentines day I would send a miniature rose plant and every year the damn rose plant would die, we would try planting it in a bigger planter, outside didn't matter the damn thing died. In 2008 (we started seeing each other in July)when I met Linda that year for Valentines day 2009 I gave her a miniature red rose plant along with roses. That spring we transferred the plant outside and do you know FOR THE FIRST TIME that plant survived The first year it bloomed it had the number of her children my children and she and I in blooms. This year it has over 38 roses on it right now. I Told Linda that this is a sign that our love was to grow and if every rose means something then we have 38 years together and we shouldn't let them go to waste. She agreed so Keep us in your thoughts that we will make this relationship work, because guys and gals I am in love with this woman and I believe I always will be.  In closing I want to include a poem that I wrote in July on my birthday when I lost her. I hope she comes home soon.

THE WALL OF STONE

I set out many years ago to build a wall of stone

one that would protect and harbor this heart I own

The first time it was broken and kicked around

There was no safe haven to place it, no, no haven to be found

So brick by brick mortar and mud, quickly

I built a wall of stone to keep out that evil thing called love

Oh I had windows so my friends I could see

Just no door to allow someone in to hurt me

Then one day as through the window I gazed

I caught a glimpse, was it a fairy, an angel

Either or I was captivated and amazed

Her voice sounded as wind chimes singing in the wind

as she tapped on that wall of stone saying, please, please let me in

I exclaim let you in, I can't do that you will have to stay outside

For there is only room for me and my heart here to abide

She replied but I have searched for you for such a long time

I can heal your heart and I will give you mine

So tear down that awful wall of stone

Life is too short to spend it alone

I listened to her words that was music to my ears

As I began to chisel away at the bricks placed there for so many years.

A year went by and the stone wall has been torn down

Free at last to embrace the new love that I have found

like the fog that rolls through the mountains and clings to the waters bay

Her words and love vanished with the heat of the day

Written by Knowlton's Rangers

July 27,2010

For a lost love Linda...may you find happiness and peace....I miss you.

As Mothers' Day quickly approaches, my mind is all about Mom. With a twist.

I could tell Mom for hours on end what she means to me and everything about her that is integrated into my being from my earliest memories forward. I could tell her she is one of a kind. That her graciousness and beauty and talent for entertaining and sociability put her in a class all by itself. How I channel her at times without even trying—good and bad—almost as if I'm having an out-of-body experience. That for the basic characteristics we share, we are every bit as different in others.

Not only could I tell her, I do. And continue to.

Except there's no indication she comprehends. Alzheimers has taken her so far away that we will never get her back.

When I share these more intimate details of my life, I feel like I'm exploiting Mom and my family for attention and consolation. But that is far from my intent. In fact, I often don't know what to say when people react sympathetically. I mean, what can you say? My writings are a reaction to some situation or stimuli; I share my work in hopes others can relate or find comfort/worth in my words.

For fifteen years, we have watched Mom fade away at a snail's pace. There were almost humorous incidents at first. Absentmindedness…Like not absorbing the simplicity of writing an address as simple as "1414."How do I write that? She ended up writing the words "Fourteen-Fourteen." She just couldn't wrap her head around writing the numbers. The disconnect was surfacing.

Within five years, Mom could no longer live alone and family members took turns as her caretakers. By the tenth year, it was time for a nursing home because her needs were beyond our capabilities. Now in her sixth year there, staff marvel at Mom's resilience and physical health. "She eats well," they say. She's practically their poster child to contradict people's fears that a nursing home expedites decline.

That being said, Mom stopped speaking about two years ago. She barely opens her eyes. When pressed for a reaction, it's as if you're pulling her out of an alternate universe and back into ours. But her trips here are extremely brief; it's almost as if she can't wait to retreat back to where she lingers. My fantasy is that she's in a happy limbo surrounded by those who have passed, assuring her that wherever she is, she is loved. As naive as it sounds, it's one of the ways we who struggle to understand this mind boggling condition cope.

Friends of mine who have lost family members with Alzheimers usually lose them within five years. Why Mom continues to dwell in this netherworld, I do not know. It's not that we want to lose her; we just don't understand how it's possible someone can "live without living" years on end.

Watching the deterioration is beyond sad. Even worse is the inability—and accepting the inability—to improve Mom's status. Coming to that realization has at times caused bouts of depression and upheaval among those of us closest to her because we know the direction in which she is moving but we are in our own state of suspended animation as it continues for as long as it continues.

Not without faults, Mom's greatest failing in life was a lack of confidence in herself and her potential. She never really had an opportunity to spread her wings and fly, nor did she believe herself capable of doing so. Still, nothing Mom has done warrants this sentence. In fact, it's not something I would wish on the most despicable of people.

So you'll understand if I give in to nostalgia this Mothers' Day and prefer to remember what was--instead of what is. If I publicly explore the overwhelming challenge of letting go of someone in slow motion as heart strings stretch beyond threadbare.

The only solace is letting myself feel Mom's love and believing she loves each one of us to the best of her ability. Sincere and deep, not overly demonstrative but never cold, she strived to do the right thing in every situation and you rarely left her feeling anything but warmer for the experience.

I love Mom. Her legacy will always be unconditional love. She gave it, ached for it and in the oddest of ways, somehow communicates it—even in her current state.

Perhaps the greatest irony of all are Mom's words in her productive days when faced with frustration or pressure: "I just want to be left alone." I'm pretty sure this isn't what she meant.

Just before Christmas, a lady I barely knew was complaining about how badly life had treated her. Being grateful for my attention while we shared a table in a coffee shop, she proceeded to tell me the catalogue of problems that had beset her which began with losing a promotion at the beginning of the year and ended with losing the actual job in December. Her tale was a very sorry one, especially as she seemed the type who might find it hard to be positive in the face of adversity. She expressed the hope that the new year would be a little kinder to her.

I listened intently and tried not to judge or comment. But while she was recounting tale after depressing tale around her career and relationships, I couldn't help noticing a yawning gap in what had repeatedly happened to her and what was actually necessary in her life, and the more she spoke, the more that gap became obvious.

Success in life can be rather elusive. Sometimes it seems to happen to everyone else in a highly random and selective way, and never us. But there is nothing random about success. The most successful people have the five crucial factors embedded in their approach. Success becomes elusive only when one or more of them is missing. These factors are like a tight chain circle, each connecting to the other. Break any part of the chain and success becomes much harder to achieve because part of its backbone would have been missing.

The five factors that determine true success are the following, and in the order listed:

1. Belief

2. Faith

3. Expectation

4. Action

5. Determination

The Five Factors

1. Belief

This is the bedrock of success. If you do not believe you can, you simply won't. Why? Because everything you do, the way you perceive, the way you approach situations and the way you act, will confirm your belief that you will fail. For example, you wish to start a business but don't believe it will be successful because you need a loan to launch it. You don't believe the bank manager will give you the loan, or you won't get enough money from an investor either. That belief will prevent you from appearing prepared, capable and professional to impress the bank or investor. You might sound convincing to them to some degree, but you won't sound passionate about your enterprise capabilities because you truly don't believe it yourself. And if you don't believe your own aspiration, why should anyone else believe its potential either?

So, if you have no self belief, stop right there and try to build some first through confidence and self-esteem training. Identify the source of that lack of self belief and do something about it, because no matter what you are doing - whether applying for a job, for a promotion, starting a business, taking part in a competitive event or simply achieving a cherished goal, belief is where you have to start - the strongest acceptance that you can do it. President Obama's election to office on the "Yes, we can" slogan is the most amazing example of belief in action. It is the foundation of success and if it is not there, everything else is unlikely to materialise too.

2. Faith

Faith is an extended form of belief. Belief begins the whole success process but faith is needed to see it through in the dark days ahead when things might look bleak. That faith will keep the motivation going, especially at the difficult times. Pointless having a strong belief in your idea, but no faith that it will deliver. Or a belief that you are the best person for the job at the interview, but no faith that you will make an impact in it. Faith goes hand in hand with belief and determination, a kind of bridge that links the start to the finish. Without it, belief never gets the chance to turn into success because there would be nothing there to see it to fruition.

3. Expectation

This is the single biggest determinant of what happens in our lives, whether we are successful or unsuccessful. If we start off with negative expectation, as many people do, that things just won't happen, or only bad luck happens, we turn those expectations, slowly but surely, into self fulfilling prophecies. For example, take being single and wanting a date or partner. If we don't expect to meet anyone suitable, or believe that Internet dating is rubbish, we do two things instantaneously. First, we would become suspicious of every person we meet because we have already decided in our head that we won't meet anyone suitable so expectations will be low. We give off that negative vibe to people we meet, they are then turned off by how they are treated, and each meeting becomes unsatisfactory because our suspicious behaviour naturally gives us the result we want: someone not acting in the manner we expect. Or we might expect a kind of perfection which potential dates find very hard to live up to.

Second, we are likely to ignore the Internet when choosing dates and miss out on millions of potential dates who are now using the Internet (8 million last year in the UK, not to mention treble that in America). By restricting our pool of choices so drastically, we are likely to take much longer to find a date, or not find any at all, especially if we are also in perfectionist mode which would exclude most human beings!

4. Action

This is the factor most people find difficult to complete. Action requires commitment, capability, resources, time, knowledge, confidence and motivation. Any of those can cause headaches if they are missing from the success equation. Most people fall down on this factor in the success stakes because it is far easier to have the plans (belief and faith) and to expect great things to happen, but far harder to put them into effect. Many people fear failure and rejection so much, they would rather not act and just keep their dreams as dreams. The idea of actually making them reality and then having to bear the consequences, especially if they are not positive, is enough to scare some people senseless. Yet without action, nothing at all will materialise: no goals achieved, no success, no wealth and, worse still, no feeling of self worth because one's talent and capabilities would not be reinforced!

5. Determination

We can have the strongest belief, the greatest faith, high expectations and prompt action but unless we have the determination to see it through, success will not cross our path. That determination to keep at it, no matter what, will serve us when others have lost their faith in what we are doing, when they expect the lowest from us and when everything seems to be against us. Determination is driven by faith. Without much faith in our endeavours we won't have the determination to see it through, especially in the early stages when things might not look as rosy as we expected. Having taken action, we have to be determined to see the end result and to stick with it until we are convinced that nothing more can be done. By doing that, doggedly, we will provide the longest time for that action to take life and become reality in the way we envisioned it.

Consistency lies at the heart of determination. When we are not consistent, we chop and change constantly, we give up easily and can blow with the wind, or other people's opinion, instead of our own gut feeling. Determination both protects and challenges our inner resources, because it is precisely when others have lost faith in our actions that we need to find that grit and stickability within ourselves.

Personal Assessment

I actually tried out these factors on myself to see why every wealth quiz I have done in the past suggested that I should be filthy rich, yet I am not! It seems that I have firm belief in myself, I also have the faith that my belief will be a reality, my expectations of life are often very high and my determination rock solid. But I have gradually come to the startling conclusion that my ACTION (or lack of it) was what let me down every time, especially since my illness developed complications. Like a mad scientist, I have tons of innovative ideas which I have been quick to experiment with, but as I have failed to act quickly, and thoroughly, on their potential, I have often missed out on any potential success because I either delay action too long, or the action is inadequate or incomplete. It seems that though I am very determined in certain aspects of my life, I could never be a scientist because I haven't got the patience or stickability to continually experiment or make discoveries!

In fact, if I had to rate each of those factors out of 5 (having them the most), Belief and Expectations would each have top marks (10 in all), while Action would have 4 and Determination would get only 3 (I can be inconsistent!). As Faith governs Determination, its score would be lower too (4), making a grand total of 21 out of 25 for me. A super score but not enough to get me among the most successful (23-25) This is a good way to test the degree of each factor as you perceive that you possess it to see what you might be missing in your own potential for success.

Sometimes success can be a hair's breadth away from us without us realising it. It's a good way to start a new year by identifying what is barring it from our orbit, which of those success factors are the culprit, and how we can improve them!

©Elaine Sihera (Ms CYPRAH) 2011
Emotional Health and People Management Consultant
"Respect and love begin with the self. If we have none, how can we give away any?"

No matter what tradition or lack there of, that you observe around this time of year, it seems some amends that should have been made months ago, get a bit of traction when the air starts to chill.

I have done my best to make one such relationship a bit better.

My adult son, now about 23 and I parted ways on a pretty negative note a few months ago. He had stayed with me for awhile and overstayed his welcome. He had a new baby he needed to at-least financially take care of, and he thought dad was going to support him. He, unfortunately, was mistaken.

I have a fairly large American Indian, Wolf & Eagle collection. He advised my wife before he went back to live with his mom, that when I "finally died, the collection was his". Again, he is mistaken. I have 4 children and a lot of pieces. So along with a card & note, I sent him a piece he had been looking at since he was 6 or 7 years old. I was wrong in the way I handled his living with me, and he is apparently prone to mistaken thoughts. I did what I could about my side of the street. Hopefully we can meet in the center line when the traffic isn't so heavy.

Take a step, someone is struggling with the same urge to do the right thing.

Happy Holidays...

Maddad

We started slow. I made hm wonder what was coming until it was time for the bus stop to start filling with kids.

5:00am- GET UP!

8:45am- Took trash bag & picked up all of front yard...about 3/4 of an acre. Just before the bus came, I had him walk the roadside across from the bus stop and pick up all the crap drivers throw out. I thought the audience would put some memory on it, especially since the little girl he "likes" was right in the front row.

9:30am- Our house is all ceramic tile, he swept every room to inspection. Cleaned his room & then the most fun I had all day....He was privileged enough to clean the toilet top to bottom that he shares with his 4 year old sister and 6 year old brother. When he finally passed inspection, he walked out of the bathroom and muttered..."I am never getting kicked off the bus again".....

10:30am- Started writing sentences, 250 times, I will obey the rules on the bus. then his full name. He had to do 50 of them if he wanted lunch.

11:45am- Lunch.

12:00-1:00pm- Rest in room.

1:00-3:00pm- Mopped entire house to inspection

I got sucked into a crisis with my other boy. We will continue tomorrow.

Maddad

In a nutshell: Through a natural need to belong, but feeling unwanted, excluded and undervalued.

A sense of belonging dictates our level of confidence. Try as we might, we cannot function without others as we are social beings. From the moment we are born and bond with our parents, we begin the social cycle of inclusion: in family, relatives, schools, friends, relationships, associations and work. There is no escaping others because they validate our existence and reinforce our culture and identity. Others act as mirrors which reflect our presence. When this reflection is confusing, or does not match with our own self perception, it leads to isolation or an identity crisis.

Other people's attention, recognition, praise, affection and love are lifelines to our endeavours, reinforcing who we are and giving us the purpose to continue with our lives. When others we care about reject us, we are likely to reject ourselves too, internalise the hate and spew it back on the family and community in the form of deviant, selfish behaviour. Most juvenile and adult problems are caused by a deep sense of not belonging to anyone or anything. Such people are most likely to have experienced rejection of some sort in childhood or in a relationship which leaves them with a sense of isolation, probably a desire to be destructive and a feeling of not having anyone on their side who really cares about them or their future.

For example, this bright, but sensitive, young 14-year-old girl was always being called nasty, hurtful names because of her surname. She had a terribly low opinion of herself and didn't see herself advancing far, despite her abilities. Having being picked on constantly, she felt 'unloved' and 'lonely' and wanted to leave school as soon as she could. She saw the greatest event in her life as 'getting married to a nice guy who loves me as I am'.

Lack of Affirmation
Her peers' cruel behaviour did not affirm who she was so she had begun to reject herself too, rating herself very low in esteem and refusing to acknowledge that her surname had little to do with her looks or talent, or that she could still be anything she wanted. As the social mirror did not reflect her self-perception, she was very hurt and began to reject her schoolwork, precipitating her steady decline. This girl's negative feelings came as no surprise but they are disturbing. At this age, the friendship of her peers and being considered 'one of the gang' are very important in her development. If she is continually teased and rejected it makes it difficult for her to appreciate herself and her potential or to recognise herself as someone worthy of respect and love, especially at this important transitional phase when she is moving from childhood to adulthood.

In fact, one of our worst emotions come from a sense of total rejection by those whom we care about most, hence the traumatic effect of any broken relationship which is not mutual. The sense of not belonging is very obvious when a relationship breaks. The loss of a partner is an immediate loss of self-esteem. We suddenly cease to be attractive in our own eyes, not caring about anything for a while. We become non-persons whose value has dramatically fallen. Yet we would still be very desirable to an awful lot of other people. At these times, it is pointless telling someone to 'snap out of it' or that 'things will get better'. Their sense of exclusion and lack of belonging mean that they cannot see what well meaning advisers can! They have to go through a painful period of denial, anger, acknowledgement, acquiescence and finally full acceptance of their situation before they can begin to come to terms with the loss and rebuild their self-esteem.

Some people never reach this final stage of acceptance and remain bitter and vengeful for years. They cling to the past because the memories and sense of rejection are so painful they are often difficult to relinquish. The present means little to them because the past remains unresolved. By hanging on to the pain, as hurtful as it might be, they still have a 'cause', a status and a 'good reason' to do nothing to change their situation. However, along the way they lose their sense of purpose in relentless negativity, they loss their confidence and self worth and they create an emotional void which gradually affects their capacity to develop truly positive relationships or trust in others.

Anxious and Isolated
A sense of not belonging, especially with those who matter to us, destroys our confidence utterly because it is the reactions of others which moulds, confirms and maintains our self-image. Who we are and where we belong are dictated by our cultural history, individual background and significant others around us and when they cease to care, so do we, which has the biggest effect on our personal value. If our loved ones do not share our perspectives, hopes or aspirations, we become more anxious, isolated and unproductive. We cannot achieve our potential because our ambition disappears too.

A sense of belonging to someone or something is therefore our greatest need. We identify a niche for ourselves, according to the roles of those around us, and take on that persona. That is why two people cannot occupy exactly the same position in any family, friendship or work unit because a sense of belonging depends on individual uniqueness. There would be problems of social and personal identity. Our own confidence is controlled by this feeling of belonging because most of our actions are geared to align with, or to disrupt, our environment, depending on our sense of security. If it is strong because we feel wanted, there are fewer hang ups, as we feel less threatened by others. If it is weak, we are plagued by insecurity and find it really hard to be positive. When we feel isolated, insecure or rejected, our self-esteem takes a nosedive.

Elaine Sihera(MsCYPRAH) 2010
Emotional Health Adviser
"Respect and love begin with the self. If we have none, how can we give away any?"

It's no coincidence that I found myself most drawn to the scenes in this movie of people sweating their @!$%#ing balls off. By midnight it was still 83 degrees outside with a heat index pushing 90, and I'm not built for this @!$%#. I'm built for snow forts, April showers and the Head of the Charles. I'm a few miles north of the Mason-Dixon line up here in south-central PA and I never expected to have to deal with this heat on a regular basis, but here I am.

Life brings unexpected opportunities and even less-expected disappointments, although the latter ought to be more predictable. As a white guy in America, I'm pretty goddamn fortunate, and there's no getting around the fact that someone with my attitude problems and tendency toward @!$%#ing things up born on the wrong side of the Mexican border or in a housing project in the Bronx would be in a mud or concrete gutter by now, just crying or dead or both.

After all, and after all thats happened, I still have an internet connection and I still have cable tv, so, believe me, I know how to count my blessings. I count them every night. It gives me something to look forward to after another day of self-pity and doubt, when I spend quite a bit of time adding up everything else.

These are hard times for the men of our society. It's great to have strong women in our lives and in our culture, but it takes more than a bunch of enlightened chicks to overcome the entrenched psychology and economic traditions that have been smacking us right in the ass from the moment we're ripped from the only true center of the universe anyone ever knows. Thats the situation for our heroes in "The Promotion," which is airing in repeats on HBO these days, and which took longer than a John C. Reilly movie should have taken me to watch.

Reilly and Seann William Scott play Richard and Doug, respectively, two assistant managers at a glossy supermarket chain in the Chicago area who are both angling for the same promotion. This was a moderately well-received film from the writer of "The Pursuit of Happyness." It's got some pretty funny scenes and what has become the almost requisite bit part by Jason Bateman, as well as some typically familiar corporate humor.

But where "The Promotion" really excels is in its portrayal of the struggle of the average white American guy in an increasingly confusing world. It's not just the threat of living in a crappy apartment next to an eavesdropping, banjo-playing douchebag or getting stuck in a dead-end job in the service industry that brings these guys down. It's the very real pressure to play the role of emotionally detached breadwinner while everything around you either turns to @!$%# or stalls on the freeway, and the only thing keeping you going is the beautiful girl who, by all appearances, behavior and attitude, seems perfectly happy doing more than what you were raised to believe was her fair share of the work, both professionally and emotionally.

There is, of course, a foreshadowed reason that the theme I picked up on was what it means to both fail and succeed in that capacity. And it's unfortunate that the female characters (played by Jenna Fischer and Lili Taylor) are pretty flat and underdeveloped, but, to the extent the film isnt about them, that doesnt matter much. The problem the film addresses, in fact, is the failure of men to get past the superficial roles of women in the first place. That these guys' wives serve only to compel them to huge but well-intentioned mistakes is sort of the point. That the wives seem mostly dumbfounded by their husbands' repeated mistakes is one bit of their character development that actually succeeds.

That said, Stephen Conrad wrote a pretty spare and effective script. The story resides in the experiences of a dreary job whose only bright spot lies in a complete change of scenery. The often emasculating conflicts Richard and Doug encounter are uncomfortably funny, which can be a difficult thing to achieve with such an understated approach.

Only men can @!$%# things up like men tend to do. This isnt to claim some exclusivity to high standards, just to say that it can be harder than it looks, sometimes, to hold what even we may wrongly believe to be the ultimate responsibility for the life and livelihoods of the people we love. So, if we're ever a little too @!$%#ing distant, or too violently obscene when the tiny mother@!$%#ing sailboat won't open up inside the glass bottle, go a little easy on us. We dont mean it, seriously. But, chances are, no matter how feminist-enlightened you may be, or you may think you are, when you look at us with those eyes and hold us as close as you do, the only thing thats going to make us jump for joy for real—the only thing thats going to get us to admit we even do jump for joy—is when we know we're giving you the life we know you deserve.

So, yeah—I recommend "The Promotion." At least right now I do, in the middle of the night, and I've already started counting my blessings and not my curses. Because tomorrow I may decide the whole thing was too much a reminder of where things have slipped off the tracks.

Until next time, stay cool and stay close, if you can manage either. And stay tuned.

Gender-clash is a well-worn path, a gully threatening to burrow down and widen into a Grand Canyon dividing the sexes. It's due to a basic lack of understanding; misunderstanding ourselves while also failing to grasp the motivations that drive others. Issues with less depth have caused shooting wars, yet we don't yet have a United Nations equivalent to monitor the crises brewing along the male/female border.

You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to

Let's make this clear at the outset – we all conjure a version of Oh, shut up in our minds at some point during conversations with members of the opposite sex. It's not a question of the validity of a particular point; it's more a result of not having Douglas Adam's BabelFish handily translating the spoken words into relatable mind pictures. When the sexes interact verbally, we all assume that a shared language guarantees some level of understanding. That's an incorrect assumption. Words fail, constantly, to express the thoughts behind them and doubly so when the gender difference bends their meaning.

I want an honest answer.

Women ask questions. For men, such questions arrive attached to a lit fuse. Does this dress make me look fat? Men learn early on to don the bomb-squad gear before answering. Such adaptive behavior makes them seem uncooperative and withholding, which calls their honesty into question. By contrast, other women can answer that same question in a forthright manner because they know they're expected to offer an honest opinion that will be viewed as helpful, no matter its tone. Men are expected to reinforce a woman's feeling of attractiveness, truth be damned.

I have three children – Cody, Alicia and my husband Ed.

Men make messes. Women clean up after them. This is a mutually enabling behavior that society is always reinforcing. The classic example is in the act of human reproduction. It's not that men are intent on making babies. Generally speaking, they don't give it much thought. However, the aftermath of coitus often leads to a series of escalating events that climax with a trip to the maternity ward. Susan Smith and that ilk aside, women love having children. They're hard-wired for it. Men, on the other hand, have trouble girding up to the process of parenthood. It seems to them an awful lot of bother just so they can be relegated to the position of Mommy's helper. Most buy into the role eventually, but I believe, at the outset, the common thread speaks to a desire to join the Peace Corp, or Al Qaeda. In this respect, men undergo the change much earlier than women do, evident in the sudden loss of hair, the increased belly fat and the gradually expanding wardrobe of wrinkled golf shirts. All of which says Dad.

All the men agreed he was a man's man. They just didn't know what that meant.

Men don't ask questions. It's a stubborn refusal to admit their failure to comprehend the world around them. Most want to believe that they are in control of some aspect of their lives. The concept of Deterministic reality is championed mostly by younger men, who cling to the idea that they played a positive role in affecting their personal timeline. It takes a while for the truth to sink in. Then, they start attending church services and wait to die. It's sad to consider that most married men are numbed to death.

Women are from Missouri

Women demand proof. You can't just say I love you to a woman and expect to be taken at your word. The love needs to be expressed in multiple aspects, like a Zen E-Harmony quiz. Granted, they have no reason to trust us. We threw away our credibility when we failed to throw away that six-year-old prophylactic and neglected to mention our other three current girlfriends. The Tiger Woods/Jesse James marriage fiascoes certainly do not promise men a beneficial reaction from the other side, with the exception of those men working as private investigators. The litmus test for reliability in a relationship is nearing the level of a witch dunking. If you drown, you're okay.

You can't live with them and you can't live without them.

In spite of the ordeal inherent in bringing these opposite entities together, the biological element continues to carry the day. Makeup, short skirts, six-pack abs and deep tans work in tandem with the hormone army to keep the human factory working overtime. There is no activity as important, or as unfathomable, as the one leading us forward by generational steps. The equipment comes standard and maybe we don't kick the tires enough before we ride off. Children are a gift, a burden and a curious result coming out of a clash between sensibilities. More curious is the pleasure parents take in knowing that these open books, these blank slates, will have no more success in closing the gender gap than we did. There is a bitter joy for both sides of the aisle in passing on the unlearnable lesson. That much we can agree on.

Knowledge is powerful Ignorance is blissful

Some of my friends and acquaintances both on and off the vine have asked me why my marriage lasted so long. It is difficult to describe because, as I have said many times, no two people are alike. What works in one relationship will prove to be a disaster in another.

I have asked myself many times why do two people that at the beginning liked, loved, enjoyed each other come to hate, detest and annoy one another. I have been in relationships and even friendships that could have developed into relationships and the truth is I had not experience that dislike towards someone until it happened with the mother of my little girl. Now-a-days, it seems that every other day she says something that either annoys me or simple angers me. Many times I think she does things because she truly does not understand what I am trying to do, specially when it comes to Madison. She lets certain things pass and questions me when I tell her something I want done with Madison. I understand that people either grow closer or apart in relationships, I think it is rare when a couple can find a middle ground, but it does happen.

I wonder what made her fall out of love with me, and she was in love with me. I also loved her in my own weird way, and I do miss her, but lately all most of all she does or says just deflates me on enrages me. I do think she has changed, she is not the same woman I started living with. I don't think I have changed, maybe that was the problem, but I told her exactly how I was before we even began doing anything. Then we had Madison, unplanned of course, we were surprised it had not happened before it did, but she was here to stay and we both love our little Madi, My ex is a great mother, but thats were I think her talents stop.

Maybe she does it on purpose, no that would be to clever, then again maybe she is that clever, but why would she like to anger me so much? When we had just split up I did miss all the little habit, but now I try to avoid her, not always when she has something to say about Madison I stay and listen, but there are times she want to just talk and I can't stand that. We only have Madison to talk about, that is the only link, and the only thing that we share. She has her friends I have mine, oh wait some of my friends are her friends now, godparents. It does not bother me, but it is uncomfortable for me to be at birthdays or other celebrations because there are always the questions of getting back together. I don't want to be the kind of couple that can't even be in the same house together. I never talk bad about her, but I will explain myself why I might be angry, I hope she does me the same.

Even now that I have experience this I still find it weird and simply distasteful! Weird, or am my just confused about this relationship thingy. Hm, I have been in two long-term relationships, and they both have lasted 5 years give or take a month, talk about weird.

Last year a friend of mine upgraded from GirlFriend 6.0 to Wife 1.0 and found that it's a memory hog leaving very little system resources available for other applications. He is now noticing that Wife 1.0 is also spawning Child Processes which are further consuming valuable resources. No mention of this particular phenomena was included in the product brochure or the documentation, though other users have informed him that this is to be expected due to the nature of the application.

Not only that, Wife 1.0 installs itself such that it is always launched at system initialization, where it can monitor all other system activity. He's finding that some applications such as PokerNight 10.3, BeerBash 2.5, and PubNight 7.0 are no longer able to run in the system at all, crashing the system when selected (even though they always worked fine before). During installation, Wife 1.0 provides no option as to the installation of undesired Plug-Ins such as MotherInLaw 55.8 and BrotherInLaw Beta release. Also, system performance seems to diminish with each passing day.

Twist of Fate

The twist of fate
is sometimes cruel
to the tender-hearted orphan

who opens her heart
one last time

...only to find the ruins
of some
enchanted memory.

Today I spent a great deal of time talking to an old friend. He needed help sorting out his life.You see, he seems to be at a crossroad..a successful (as he defines it) middle-aged divorced father of two who is afraid to be alone.

Currently seeing two women and seemingly in love with both (though I would argue it has more to do with a very deep rooted fear of being alone at any time more than anything.)

Each of these relationships was begun under false pretenses...he was seeing another woman at the time he began each of these relationships-because of his fear of being alone.

The struggle seems to be...WHO to pick to marry ...and why...part of that struggle is lost in the trappings of life...the "Stuff" as it were...the belongings one acquires as we travel through life....not wanting to give up locations, houses...on and on.

As I helped him begin to work through the situation and untangle the thought process it occurred to me that we each get caught up in the "stuff" of life....the trappings.

It seems to me that what really counts is what we are each left with when you strip away EVERYTHING ..houses, cars...Yes, KIDS..(they grow up and move out-though they are an important priority when they are growing up.)....family , friends...toys...everything...

So I said the following to him:

Picture yourself standing naked and alone facing this person:
Who is this person you are left standing next to-do you KNOW them?

Can you laugh together?

Are you each sensitive to the others tears of joy and sorrow?

Can you REALLY communicate with this person?

Can you learn from each other?

Do you respect each other?

Is this person your BEST friend?

What do you have in common?

Do you have implicit trust in one another?

When you have sex, or make love can you loose yourself in that person?

It seems to me that THESE are the important questions..It is what matters.

How many of us can say that in our lives we have tended to our relationships in such a way that we can answer each of the questions above in a positive way???

I finally had a night off from my bartending/cocktailing job and was looking forward to a little quiet R&R; when my phone rang.

"Hello?"

My best friend Sandy was on the other end and clearly distraught, "I can't believe that s.o.b. had the gall and audacity to actually stand me up!", her voice was near the yelling point. "Will you please come pick me up? I want to go downtown and see if he's around and what he has to say for himself!"

Looking forlornly toward my couch where I'd left the book I was wanting to read, I sighed and said, "Let me freshen up and I'll be there in oh, let's say thirty minutes, okay?"

Pacified for the time being she exhaled a breathy, "thank you", and hung up.

*********

We had found a small table in the back near the dance floor in the now packed bar and with the band playing and all the noise from the fellow patrons, we had pretty much limited trying for any further conversation between us. I noted that Sandy was nervous and kept a close eye on the door. We were still on our first drink when her close scrutiny was rewarded. She swung around to give me 'that' look and grasped for my hand, squeezing my fingers hard. I looked toward the doorway and saw him, Floyd, the man she had been dating for the last three months or so. I also saw that he wasn't alone. Walking in beside him just as bold as you please was Sharon Super Skirts. (Yeah. We had nicknamed her that, devils that we were!) Sharon wasn't a raving beauty, but had a sort of presence about her that made her seem inhumanly confident. She was very thin, almost too thin, and wore her dark hair cut short. AND, she always wore a skirt with flat shoes.

*********

Floyd was holding Sharon close, too close, as they glided around the dance floor, and I could sense Sandy's anger rise even more. As the song was coming to an end, Sandy and I stood to vacate our table. Sandy moved toward Floyd and Sharon before I had a chance to stop her. I could see that angry words were being exchanged as they made their way toward the front part of the bar where it was a bit quieter, and closer to the door. I also noted that Sharon kept her hand in Floyd's through all of this.

As I caught up to the trio who was now standing a bit off to the side near a wall, I realized that Floyd was saying something back to Sandy, and he wasn't looking very happy either. I wasn't the only one who had noticed as one of the bartenders stepped out from behind the bar and made their way over there as well. We both arrived about the same time with me stopping next to Sandy so that I too was facing Floyd, and the bartender more behind and to the side of him. Floyd was a pretty big guy standing about six foot two, but the bartender wasn't too much smaller. That was reassuring!

Floyd glared at me, and still holding Sharon's hand took a step in my direction. Growling through clenched teeth he said, "All this time Diana, I thought you were a lady! You're nothing but the pimple on a Lady's ass!"

Feeling the color rise into my cheeks and knowing my eyes had involuntarily opened wider with daggers of anger aimed directly at Floyd, I forced a smile as I quietly responded, " Why Floyd, you wouldn't know what a Lady's ass looked like, much less the pimple on it!"

Floyd's free hand clenched into a fist as the bartender grabbed his upper arm. Sharon stepped in front of him and stroking the side of his face, leaned her scrawny body into his as she murmured soothing words. I pushed Sandy out the front door where we both ran for the car before breaking into a fit of giggles.

*********

Thanks to Sharon Super Skirts and that bartender, I'm sure I escaped being punched that night. Of course Sandy broke up with Floyd, as did Sharon soon afterward.

Once upon a time, about fifteen years ago, I was friendly with a couple, both of whom I had been friends with before they met each other and got married.

First things first! Tune your instrument...

Not an easy task for those to do without the use of a tool. First you plug in and take each string one by one to insure that it relates proportionately to the one before it. There may be variations in the frequencies, but each must measure in direct relation to the distance between the resonance.

When each string is in tune it is time to create the chords. It takes at least three notes to create the chord, and others can be added to emphasize dissonance or tension, thus creating a certain mood. It can be happy chord or one filled with depth and melancholy. The true beauty is the combination of the mood and tone to achieve the perfect performance.

Now transpose the subject from music to a conversation and you will see the same relationship.

Each individual is their own note, at their own octave and relates to another to form harmony of thought. The combination of these thoughts with a common theme, combined with the rhythm and tempo can create a beautiful symphony of expression.

Let's get in tune and write a song!

I was thinking about you today,
As I wandered through the streets of our town,
Wondering if you are still around,
Waiting with fear...for you to suddenly re-appear.

It felt weird and awkward,
But amazing just the same,
Giving me comfort
And finally letting go of the blame.

It is a path that has taken both time and distance,
Realizing this is the path of least resistance.
Coming full circle and letting go,
Holding on to the good
And being able to finally saying NO!

Left in a state of utter confusion,
Realizing much to late
It was all an illusion.

I still sit and listen to the soft tapping of the rain,
Which dances lightly across my windowpane,
Slowly clearing away the memories and pain.

Sometimes even now, when I walk through the crowd,
I can still see your face, and hear your voice out loud.
I think about how you might have been,
Or if you still struggle with the demons within.
In my heart I wonder if you are happy, and safe
As you seem to have disappeared without a trace.

Never really knowing if anything was real,
Causes me to wonder how you must feel.
Do you ever have regret?
Or think about all you have done,
Or has it vanished from your memory
Like the evening sun.

Life without you has not been the same,
Trying hard to not remember your name.
I carry the hurt with me everywhere I go,
Reminded daily of how some people stoop so low.
They do so with little or no remorse,
Like a natural stream just running its course.

It is hard to remember anything good,
Although if I wanted to I am sure that, I could,
Then that would remind me of the person I thought you could be,
Little did I know what a fool you saw in me.

With every joy, there is pain,
Something you have left me with like the falling rain,
The moments of joy are quickly washed away,
Dashed by the lightening that took it all that fateful day.

Trust and honesty are something I will always doubt,
You left me trying to figure it all out,
Unsure of what was worth so much to you,
That you were willing to risk all that we could do.

The pain has lessened and with time, it will dissipate,
Knowing that you are now at the hands of fate.
Your life is now your own,
But I fear that it will be spent all alone.
Not filled with the happiness we could have known.

You will forever be the albatross in my memory,
The one that held me back, until I chose to be free.

When I look at the world, I see people living in the streets...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see children with no food to eat...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see people being mean...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see abuse not being seen...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see people dying...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I hear people lying...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see mothers crying...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see people in pain...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see people's disdain...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see people full of hate...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I see help rendered to late...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I try to see hope...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I try to help other's cope...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I try to see possibilities...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I try to see probabilities...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I wonder why it will never change...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I don't understand why people stay the same...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I desire to see freedom...and I ask myself why?
When I look at the world, I pray to see peace...and I ask myself why?

I remember walking on eggshells. I remember the fear of saying the wrong thing that may begin another spiral of nightly drinking.

I wore a wrinkled shirt to the hospital for a surgery I would have. I was scared but I said nothing. Because my oversized t-shirt that I would be taking off in less than the 5 minutes it would take us to get to the hospital, was wrinkled, I looked like a whore. She said so. I was self-centered. I was spoiled and selfish. Why would I choose, of all shirts, that one? Didn't I know that I looked like a whore? And what was wrong with my hair? Why didn't I curl it?

This was just one instance that remains in my memory. My female relative was an alcoholic and she loved me. She proved it often enough. I loved her too. But with the love I held for her, there was fear and misunderstanding. And with the love she had for me, there was the interference of alcoholism.

I thought if I could behave well, she would quit the drinking she often promised to quit.

One night, another typical night of close to being at the end of another attempt to stop, she called me a whore because I said "No thanks" to iced tea. Secretly calling my Mom to cry, my Mom tried soothing me and using phrases she had learned in recovery. The next morning, my relative apologized in the blanketed fashion she often did. Her memory never proved it could actually recall the hurtful words and actions she partook and, in my shame, I was never able to tell her. Until that morning.

That morning I finally told her. I told her of her actions the night before. I told her of how she usually behaved and the words she would typically use to characterize me. How she would get angry when I refused food or drink. How she would get angry when I was studying. How my mere existence seemed to drive her into a strange place. How I often would retire to my room once she started and didn't she see that?

I remember that morning almost as clear as I remember the hurtful memories of her drinking. I remember her looking at me and my feeling as if she was really absorbing what I was saying. I remember her, in instances, glancing out the window as I was talking almost as if she couldn't bear to listen anymore. Then she would look back at me and hold my eyes. During this conversation she asked questions about her behavior - but not too many. I think she did not really want to know the true ugliness and I obliged. I held back the more humiliating experiences because, at the time, I did have low self-esteem and felt there to be truth in some of the things she would say to me.

At the end of this conversation she said, in only few words, typical of her when she was embarrassed, "Well I need to stop that. "

The next night, I'd checked her liquor supply. She had none left, I reasoned, so if she does not go to the liquor store tonight, I'll be okay. She didn't go to the liquor store or drink that night. Or the next night. Or the next night. or even the next night. I remember, still, as happy as I was, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I remember walking on eggshells. I remember trying to help her as much as I could around the house. I showed her my A's. I shared with her my instructor's opinions on my papers. I spent time with her thinking if she was not lonely, she would not drink. We never argued so I never really had to worry about "making her mad." I remember taking the dog for rides happily, when she asked. I would go to the store for her. I would have gladly continued being at her beck and call but the other shoe dropping was still a pre-existing echo of the future.

The night she finally asked me to go to the liquor store for her, I remember thinking back to what I may have done to provoke her desire to drink. I remember even saying, "But I thought you were going to quit? I thought everything was going well?" She assured me it was but she just needed something after the day she'd had. So it started again.

Not long after, circumstances would have my moving out, when my own alcoholism began rearing its head. I chose to feed my own alcoholism because I'd not had any other tools to combat my feelings of low self-esteem, failure at getting my relative sober, failure at being a human being...One may think that after seeing what happened to my relative when she drank, that it would prohibit me. Well, I guess if one isn't prone to alcoholism that would have worked. But alcohol was effectively my only solution at the time.

And after being in recovery, now for a few years, from alcoholism as well as codependency, I realized it was effectively her only solution too. It was only in addressing my own alcoholism, that I was able to see hers for what it was. This does not mean I did not have a right to my feelings about the harm she caused me. This just means I am able to understand that I did not "cause" her alcoholism anymore than someone else "caused" mine.

And thanks to Al-Anon [a specific subset of Codependent recovery where we address ourselves as we relate to others' alcoholism] existing, friends and family members do not have to actually *be* alcoholic in order to understand someone else's alcoholism. There is actually a solution for people who are victimized by alcohol but not through their own drinking, but by someone else's. And this is good news.

This means you do not have to "turn alcoholic" in order to reap the benefits of recovery. This means you, too, can find the same peace, serenity, and best life that millions of recovering alcoholics, recovering al-anon's, and recovering codependent's have enjoyed. Whether it's through many of the subsets of codependent recovery geared toward friends or family who used alcohol [or drugs] - like Adult Children of Alcoholics, Al-Anon or Alateen, Nar-Anon - or straight to Codependents Anonymous, or even codependent literature, peace can be achieved.

However. If you are currently using alcohol as your solution, I will share with you what my A.A. sponsor first shared with me. "After a year of A.A., I'd like for you to get to Al-Anon." Then I did. The reason is because I needed to deal with my immediate problem first. I needed to get my own brain, mind, and spirit straightened out first, lest I go into Al-Anon backwards. [In effect, while I am on fire, going into another type of recovery to try to deal with the heat of someone else's own fire!]

This article was written in response to comments from my article: How to Help an Alcoholic Stop Drinking

Alot has changed over this past year, I can almost remember down to the last detail what I was doing a year ago today and it was a really happy time. I was in Austin, hanging out with people I cared about and thinking that I was set, the house was about to get started and I felt like I was writing my final chapter in the story of my life and it had a happy ending.

What I didn't know is that there was an alternate ending, the twist in the middle of a novel that catches you completely off guard and leaves you unsure of how the tale will unfold. Over the past year, there have been many characters, coming in and out of my life, each adding something to the story line, also known as my life. The tragic figure has been killed off and the rest is my novel to write, so how will I choose for this chapter to end?

I find it hard to even see past tomorrow, which may be the best route at this point in story. Although, I would love to look ahead to the future and see how this is going to play out, I think it would spoil it to some degree and I think one day at a time is the better choice for me personally.

The characters that remain, are ones that I choose to be there now, the tragic figure no longer controls the destination of my journey. They are all good people, compassionate and honest, they care about me and what I am feeling and they either choose to stay or go and although it might be sad for a brief moment, nothing will ever reach the core as it did before. Nothing will send me spinning out of control, like losing the air that I breath again. I find it hard to describe in words the feeling you have when you find out the life you thought was so great, the happiness you thought was so real, wasn't what you thought at all. Next time around you are more guarded and aware, maybe to the extreme, unsure and unwilling to be so caught off guard again, but somewhere along the way you have to realize that not everyone is that dishonest, or untrustworthy.

This past year has brought me a world of adventure, friendship, love and most of all happiness... the kind of happiness that makes you want to gush about everything you discuss, it makes you smile all the time and makes you feel completely fulfilled, like your cup is running over. Its not necessarily one thing, or one person, its a chapter full of people, some here on the vine and some in my personal life, each adding amazing characters that I am so proud to know and love.

As the plot thickens on my life, I look around and realize this is a romantic comedy, not a tragedy...just taking it one day at a time and enjoying it one moment at a time is what counts, how the story ends is totally up to me to decide...

Have you ever felt like your life was a giant jigsaw puzzle and you are trying to piece it all together? Sometimes it is in a good way, its this really great puzzle with a beautiful picture when completed, but other times, it feels as though you are trying to shove the pieces in, because they just don't seem to fit right.

I am the firm believer if things are supposed to happen then all the puzzle pieces fall together, it has always been that way in my life and when they don't quite fall right, then it usually is because it wasn't meant to be.

Well, I am at the point where I am seeing a beautiful picture emerge, but some of the pieces of the puzzle just haven't fallen in the right place and I am searching for their home, but without fail, they don't match any open spot.

Its a precarious position, wanting to have the puzzle finished, yet sometimes it takes time and care to complete such a daunting task, especially if we know how beautiful it could be when it is complete.

So how do you find the right place for the mismatched pieces? Do you patiently wait for things to come about and see if they fit at a later time, or do you give up on the puzzle that you are not unsure of?

Life gives you a direction, just like instructions, you follow them to a "T" and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, so I realize that maybe, just maybe that playing by the rules doesn't always necessarily work and as long as you are doing so with good, or great intentions, then that is how fate meant for things to occur.

So if you can find the missing puzzle pieces and you know the outcome is perfect, you carry on, right? What if its an illusion of perfection and really you get to the last piece and its missing, or doesn't fit? Then What? Do you dwell on the fact that you put so much time and effort into it, without knowing for sure that it will be something you can see it through till the end?

As I was driving home tonight I realized what day it was.. July 11th.

She remembered how she loved him then. How she worshipped every smile he made and every other gesture of affection. His gifts always made her happy. If it wasn't a new doll, it was a new tv. Back then she was the first in her family to receive a television set able to display colors, and each day she'd turn it on to watch the latest soccer match. Soccer was her passion, and it was well known that whenever a match was on, no one was to disturb her except for her father who understood her love for the game. He rarely bothered her, and when he did he would sit beside her on the plush, cream colored couch and watch the screen with its thousands of colors. She seemed to think he came and watched to show her he loved her.

She knew her sisters and brothers were jealous of her. She was father's favorite after all, and she milked him easily. Later she realized that everything he gave her served a purpose. He gave her the television because he wanted it himself, and when he tired of it he would give it to her siblings, throwing her into fits of rage while her sisters laughed on with glee. But then he'd give her something new, and she'd regain her status as the second mistress of the house.

It's not that her father didn't love her siblings. He loved them all in his own way, even the bastard children he fathered on the side. She loved them too, but theirs was a strange relationship. He was a judge, an engineer, and a pharmacist. But it was his knowledge and power over the law that made him feared and loved. At times he was a marked man, so bodyguards followed him and his children at all times. There were even instances where she had to disguise herself as a boy in order to avoid the gazes of dirty men. Their eyes always squinted when they saw her, and almost always their hands would rest at their waist before sliding ever slowly to a zipper and beyond. She always looked away, but she never felt safe.

His was a dangerous life, and it followed every member of her family, but she never loved him less for it.

Like two Cold War adversaries, Chana and Simon Taub are separated by a wall — one that was built straight down the middle of their home to keep the bickering spouses apart.