MandiLoriAnn

The most valuable things I own are a cassette tape of Johnny Cash's Greatest Hits and a spent shell casing. My dad passed when I was seventeen from pancreatic cancer... but for seventeen years, I had an amazing relationship with a great man. He was generous to a fault and could tell you the worst and most offensive jokes and get away with it and leave you laughing, against your better judgment, if not your will entirely. He had the voice of an angel and played the guitar. My first lullabies came out of a '78 Gibson acoustic, played by my father, singing Johnny Cash tunes. We had a cassette tape, Johnny Cash's Greatest Hits, that we'd play on car trips and sing along to. I learned how to sing using Johnny's greatest hits, including The Rebel (Johnny Yuma), Jackson, and, of course, my favorite, The Ballad of Ira Hayes. When my father died, I was adamant on having that cassette. Truly, though his belongings went to my mother and myself, the ONLY thing I cared about was that

Watched The Last King of Scotland for the... you know what, I lost count. That's my favorite movie, (I call it, "The Forest Whitaker Show," because that's what it is and that man OWNED that whole film), and I could do a one woman performance of the film if you'd let me. (Don't, by the way.) It took someone else watching it with me to point out something I'd missed; I used to think in the village was the first time we saw Forest come traipsing out and rile up the crowd; there was a shot of him in the opening credits! All of the times I've watched that movie, I didn't notice it 'till now. It doesn't take away from what is "my first" glimpse of Forest Whitaker as Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland in the village as he made his political speech. Truly, to me, that's one of the most electrifying moments in cinematic history... at least in my mind. It was epic, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time that man was talking... I can see how Idi could have fooled so many people

My brain feels like pudding. I don't know why that feels like a PSA, but it is what it is. Uh, that said, be warned, my future art projects may seem... goofy. I prefer "irreverent," personally. I think this is a pre-emptive apology... but what do I know? My brain is pudding, as we discussed earlier. Yes, I know my artwork lately looks "bong inspired." (I can't think of a more delicate way of saying, Mandi, your art makes me suspect you relapsed on drugs.) Yes, I'm still sober. (Pushing ten years, at that. Will be ten years clean on November 10th, 2022.) Feeling flighty and antsy. It's nothing more than stir-craziness and a need to get away from the stresses in Madison and take a badly needed hiatus. And if you see on the 6PM news that some neurotic Madisonian redhead went berserk and the entire city is amassed in flames, yes, that's me, and consequently, I require bail money. Help, Dudes. Will an insanity defense still work if your brain is pudding? Is that an