Gender Liberation and Warm Fuzzies tells the story of the class trip Stephie went to. Do you remember all the drama that happened then?!
Also, I added the Legend of The Rarest Genders to it because that story was just so awesome and it makes this book the longest I’ve ever published :O Yay!!
I have dysphasia from a stroke in 2023 but it doesn’t effect my typing, I just spell really bad anyway. Hugs
Holy shit his son is creepy.
The Ellisons are going to strip assets from their acquisitions that were built by talented artists and truly skilled professionals and create new content that caters to these douchebags.
The same people who felt Benghazi was mishandled will have absolutely no interest in all our embassies being destroyed and all our staff left stranded due to DOGE budget cuts.
“With these strikes, the President sends a powerful message to the world. We’ll let you know when we figure out what it is.”
Painter William Merritt Chase opened an art school for a new generation of women, teaching them how to draw as well as how to advocate for themselves.
William Merritt Chase with Parsons School of Design studentsvia Wikimedia Commons
The story of the establishment of the Chase School of Art, forerunner of the Parsons School of Design in New York, offers an unlikely object lesson in what happens when you seek to realize your creative aspirations in an era of political and cultural upheaval. In 1896, the Impressionist painter William Merritt Chase was ready to declare independence from the rigid hierarchies of the New York art scene and its dependence on European masters and methods. He dreamed of establishing what he considered an explicitly American school of art, one that encouraged artists to embrace and portray the unique character and energy of the young nation and its people, and he needed money. To get it, he founded an experimental new school for painting in Manhattan that would, ironically, thrive on the burgeoning hopes of women in an era of their growing liberty and opportunity.
Best remembered for society portraits, plein air paintings, pastel seascapes, dead fish still lifes, and depictions of dancing white clouds, Chase suddenly found himself in an unfamiliar role: he was, if not quite an equal rights leader, then an ambitious artist who, in pursuing his own interests, opened avenues for women artists and played a part in establishing a new era of American art beyond his own envisioning.
As June L. Ness writes in Archives of the American Art Journal, Chase stood among the most influential artists and art teachers in the country at the turn of the twentieth century. He was on the faculty at the Art Students League, the Brooklyn Art Association, and the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts; he instructed a cadre of private students in his home studios and abroad; he lectured in Connecticut, Chicago, and elsewhere; and he oversaw a summer art school outside the Long Island town of Southampton.
A man of his times, Chase and his wife, Alice Gerson, an amateur photographer, ran at the limits of their finances. In 1896, as parents to four children, they faced a turning point. Chase wanted to quit teaching altogether and devote himself to painting. Yet the couple also wanted to maintain luxury residences in both the city and the country while traveling extensively but lacked the resources to sustain such a lifestyle. (snip-MORE, plus art!)
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Cadged these snippets from my Naked Pastor email:
So when someone says, “You’re okay,” it can feel naive. Or rebellious. Or even offensive. But what if it’s neither naive nor rebellious? What if it’s simply true? Cartoon: You’re not broken Dad Joke: I’m confused Quote: The illusion Original: My Strength That Is Within Me Merch of the Week: Jesus Eraser Sticker
I keep saying “It is what it is,” but what even is it???
Quote
I recently saw a clip from a Leonard Cohen interview. She asked him about him spending time with Roshi in a Zen monastery. He said it was like a hospital, and Roshi was the doctor. The interviewer asked what he cured him from. Cohen replied, “The illusion that you are sick. He cured me of the illusion that I needed his teachings.”
You’re Okay!
Let’s make this one short and sweet. I agree with Cohen. I also agree with Sinéad O’Connor’s therapist, who told her the whole point of therapy was to help her realize she didn’t need therapy. The same with Gabor Maté, who said that I am not broken, but just wounded. Underneath the wounds and pain is wholeness. A wholeness already there, just waiting to be embraced. These all ring true to me. When I share cartoons like the one here, The Best Healing, I get some positive comments, but also a lot of angry and offended ones.
And I understand why. I, too, was raised to believe that I was born a sinner, deeply broken and flawed and depraved, in need of a saviour to redeem me. The whole theological system and enterprise is founded upon the assertion that I am a vile sinner who needs to be saved by a divine being.I know how difficult it is to walk away from this belief, because it’s not just a belief, but a whole worldview, an entire paradigm, complete with its religion, institution, scriptures, and priests. It’s like leaving the universe to start over in a new one. One that says you’re okay. It’s a radical step, and maybe you have taken it. I’m proud of you for that.
I have posted roughs here and there since my stroke, but I haven’t done a blog of them. I didn’t expect to be drawing that many since it’s kind of difficult to draw, but lo and behold, I’ve been drawing a lot of roughs lately. To share those, I figure the best thing to do would be to bring back the blogs of roughs.
There may be a few of these that I have already published, but I can’t remember them all, and I’m not going back through my blogs to see what I have and haven’t published.
I’ve been sitting on this one for about two weeks. I like the idea of them being in the same location, with the tell being the Washington Monument.
I don’t remember if I shared this one already, but it was drawn on February 18. The cartoon I eventually drew and published that day was the right one.
I didn’t think this was going to work, and the two people I showed it to didn’t get it, even though they had seen the movie The Jerk. (snip-MORE)
Did you watch the State of the Union last night? If you didn’t, no worries. I got you. And if you did not watch, no one can blame you. At an hour and 47minutes, it was the longest State of the Union address to Congress ever, even breaking the previous record, which also belonged to Donald Trump. When it comes to giving long-ass boring speeches that don’t seem like they want to end, Donald Trump is the Fidel Castro of American politicians.
To give you the gist of the speech, I’ll share what a few writers from The New York Times stated: “A tedious, tiresome performance,” “crabby rambling,” “the heat mongering continues,” and “long, exhaustive, and repetitive.” The speech probably did very little to lift Trump up from his current 36% approval rating.
Trump didn’t give a lot of details of his agenda or programs last night, so he killed time by handing out awards like it was a game show because, you know, showmanship. He handed out two Congressional Medals of Honor, one Purple Heart, and the Presidential Medal of Freedom to a hockey player. These are all awards that Donald Trump would love to give himself. (snip-MORE)
Scottie's Playtime 
