ibee

Personal Journal
I finished up doing the painting of Miss Riverside 1984 - a lot of details on a 6"x9" canvas. Everyone says the horse looks real. I still need to do some touch-up. My brushes are as worn out as my eyes. I'm starting another portrait of the most beautiful woman I've seen in my 72 years - my Jeannie, happy birthday my love. I think I have as many drawings and paintings of her as I have of myself. My muse.

I read somewhere that life is a journey from birth to death. You buy a round trip bus ticket at birth, get on and do life until it's time to exit. Where life takes us is the choices we make. Let's live long and enjoy it. Remember, you have to keep breaking your heart until it opens. Where have all the people gone - turn to stone everyone - now I think I understand, or do I? Monday, woke up at 3:00am and couldn't get back to sleep. the cell is very warm. Now I'm thinking the vent might be off, but I'm too tired or too lazy to get up and check. No light in the sky yet. My head is spinning - when will the day begin? "My toes in the sand, my ass in the water, a cold beer in my hand." Now I know everyone gets lost in music at times, there's a song you just have to sing out loud to love. We had five days of 100 degree temperatures and looking for another one today.

When I saw the doctor Thursday, my weight was 200.5, down from 247 on January 3. Over the last few years, I've shrunk from 6' to 5' 10". I do believe now that old men do shrink. One day, they will come to count me and I'll be gone.

7/30/19, Tuesday. Another blood draw this morning. I had two last week - Monday and Thursday. There are two big purple spots surrounded by a yellow and orange bruise (yes, it's still tender). It cooled down here a little yesterday. I'm not getting much done by afternoon; this cell is too hot to do anything but lay under the fan - the paint drys on the brush. The heat stays in the concrete wall until well after dark. Still, this cell feels twice as cool as the last cell I spent so many years in, 250, a corner cell, but I loved the peace there. No one walking past your door all day. Imagine, I have a vision of something in my head. I work on it a little bit everyday, then one day a beautiful painting sits before me. I need to stop worrying about how long the painting is taking. As long as I feel it, touch it, look at it, worked on it a little each day, the beauty in the art will shine just like the unfinished face staring bak at me right now.

7/31/19. Adaptability is key. You must learn to adapt to all types of personalities in prison. There are a great number of inmates here who belong in a mental institution, but they have closed them down so the guards can abuse them. The guards are allowed to do as they please and it only takes one. I better stop.

8/2/19. It's Friday. I slept in. My cellie went home yesterday. Yeah, it feels good. I'm happy for the guy - so long, good luck, don't come back. He just wasn't a cellie one would care for. He was as dumb as a turd. He didn't crack open a book the whole time he was in this cell. He didn't understand the words, "clean up after yourself." He was a pig pen. Enough! I could go on about this guy all day. I'm not hating on him - I've had worse. I've had a lot of good cellies like Jimmy Lee, Wille (my first cousin), and I celled up for a few years at old Folsom, only got into one knock down drag out, we were younger. It's good to live with family. Tim and I celled up in the late 80s until I ended up in the hold and back to Folsom.

It took me most of the day to clean the cell yesterday. I can only do a little bit at a time, and I have to rest. I still have to wash the walls. Hope to stay single celled for awhile. I did finish up a portrait of my love last night - just needs some touch up work done on it. It's good to be alone in the cell and be able to keep the bright light on without thinking about bothering someone. I have the bright light on this morning and my radio without the headphones.

8/14/19 I'm enjoying this single cell status - hope it lasts a few weeks. Been there, done that. We have a couple of dozen single cells, but I don't endear myself to the guards. Old as I am, I doubt if my feelings are going to chance there. Sunday morning, feeling well - just minor pain in my knees and my hands are still numb. Nothing goin on here except AMs and PMs. I would say the food here is bad, but I'm not sure it's food. The garbage cans are full after each meal and the pig farmer won't take it, said the pigs won't even eat it, must go to the landfill somewhere. I think this is going to be a nice day, hot, but nice. I would like to hear from someone. The mailman must think I've moved. Leave a message on the message board. Once again, happy birthday, my love. Georgia on my mind. Keep your light on for me. "Here I am, there I go, turn the page."