GJ Willis' Art Notes

Hello! My baby. Hello! My honey.
Hello! My ragtime gal. Send me a kiss by
wire, Baby my heart's on fire!
If you refuse me, Honey, you'll lose me,
Then you'll be left alone. Oh, baby, telephone and
tell me I'm your own. Hello! Hello!

Hello! My Baby, Words by Ida Emerson, Music by Joseph E. Howard

Today just for kicks I thought I'd try to see if I could upload an image onto my blog. I’m doing it because I figure I should try and get my money’s worth since I signed up for Blog Plus. I hope it showed up. It’s my official face of the web.

On the work front yesterday I found out that our company will be relocating to a new building in Hunt Valley. It appears that the office space that we rent is a tad too high and the chief muckety mucks felt it would be less expensive to buy a building and rather than pay the rent. The company I work at has been in business for about 20+ years. I have no idea how long they’ve been at the location they are now. My only hope is that I remain employed there long enough to see them move.

Everyday I feel as though my job is in jeopardy. I live in fear of being homeless or having to move in with my father and my crack addict sister. I’m not sure if I mentioned her before but my older sister, Carleen is a crack addict.

It was horrible living in the same house with her after my mom died. I got a nervous stomach and had difficulty sleeping. I felt as though I was suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome. Who knows maybe I did have it or do have it...

She would steal things around the house, air conditioners, food, house plants, money, my favorite new dress, anything so that she could score another hit.

She would knock on my bedroom door at all hours of the night and beg for money. She would not stop. She was relentless. My father would usually give in and give her money to make her stop so that we could get some sleep. This would only temporarily calm the issue. She would leave out and buy her crack, smoke it up, and return to bang on our doors again. She would not bathe or take care of herself she lived solely for her next hit of crack. Her children, my nieces, Arlesia and Alexis and my nephew, Little David eventually got taken away from her and were placed in foster care. It was a bad situation.

In a sense she was responsible for my getting fired from Maryland General Hospital. My job at that hospital was my first true employment as a Medical Technologist. You see at the time I didn't think anything of giving my family members my phone number at work in case an emergency occured at home. My sister called me up at work that night and told me that she needed money because some drug dealers said that they would kill her if they didn't get their money. I felt shaky and worried that night at work wondering if it was a scam she had cooked up to get money from me or maybe it was the truth. All the same I just remember that night feeling very worried and wanting to get home. I could'nt leave as anyone who works in lab knows that are profession is chronically short staffed.

I wasn't paying as close attention as I normally did working my labs and I made a mistake doing a lab test. It was a CSF diff count for an infant. CSF is short hand for cerebral spinal fluid. A diff count is short hand for cell differential count. The cell count is done under the microscope using the high power oil immersion objectives. The differential is based on the morphologic examination of a wright-stained cytospin preparation. The cells are reported as number per ul; erythrocytes, total white cells, neutrophils, lymphocytes, eosinophils, and a composite group of monocytes-histocytes-macrophages. CSF's are ordered on small children primarily to check for Meningitis. Meningitis in young children may only have nonspecific symptoms like fever and vomiting. The disease is very rare and is only endemic when older individuals are infected and pass it on to others. Transmission of Meningitis is by repiratory droplets among persons who have prolonged close contacts such as family members living in the same household, and within crowded communities such as the military or college dorms. During the first 6 months of life, maternal bactericidal antibodies are protective against infants becoming infected. Mortality approaches 100% in untreated patients and approaches 15% when appropriate antibiotics are given.

Anyway, two days later on the same day that Tupac was murdered I was fired from my job. I never told them about my sister’s drug problem and how it was effecting me. I felt that it would be weak to say I couldn't think that night because my sister kept calling me to tell me that drug dealers were going to kill her. In short, I felt ashamed that my sister was an addict. I was probably the only person working there who was going through this. I doubt that I would have found a sympathetic ear. In the end I was culpable for the lab results not my sister.

I admit that I didn't like doing CSF counts. The sample that was given that night was short and the Dr. that ordered it had a habit of ordering spinal diffs on babies. It seemed to me as though if a baby was under his care it would get a CSF diff. CSF diffs are not the type of lab tests that people like to order willy nilly because they are very difficult to get and painful for the patient. Not to mention the fact that Meningitis is a rare disorder in babies!!! They're naturally protected against it!! I read about this in my college textbook which I still own, Medical Microbiology by Murray, Drew, Kobayashi, & Thompson page 89.

I felt like this doctor liked to torture infants because he ordered the tests so often on them. I feel for bad for writing this but this is how I honestly feel. No other doctor at the hospital ordered pediatric diffs on babies as often as he did. If that doctor. was working that night a diff would be ordered on an infant, as sure as the sky is blue.

In the end the baby’s diff count was normal. Her microbiology tests were negative. She did not have Meninigitis. As far as I know she's still alive and kicking. I assume the doctor is still working. Who knows, maybe he's stll at Maryland General happily taking spinal fluid from helpless babies crying out in agony. In case you're wondering this all happened during the late 90's.

Right now, all I know is that I have to do a good job at work so that I do not have to live in the same house with my sister. The scariest sound on the face on the earth to me is the sound of someone knocking on the door or the sound of a telephone ringing.

When I moved out of the apartment that I shared with my father and sister I made a point of not giving my new address to my brother or nieces and nephews. I did this for fear that they would tell her where I lived and then she would harass me all hours of the night for drug money. If that were to happen I would be forced to move from my neighborhood. The only person I could trust with giving my address to was my father.

In the end I did eventually give them my home phone number but I will not give them my work number or the name of the company I work for. My sister to this day has no idea where I live and I want to keep it that way. She is not going to drive me crazy again. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome is not any fun and I don’t want to go through it again.

”Children behave.” That’s what they say
when we’re together. “And watch how you play.”
They don’t understand, and so we’re running just as fast as we can.
Holding on to one another’s hand.
Trying to get away into the night and then you
put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you
say, “I think we’re alone now. There
doesn’t seem to be anyone around.
I think we’re alone now. The
beating of our hearts is the only sound.”

I think We’re Alone Now, words and music by Ritchie Cordell, @1967 Windswept Pacific Entertainment Co.

I didn't go into work on Thursday. This was because I woke up 15 minutes before I was due in the door. So I had one of two decisions to make, either get in very very late or use up one of personal days. I opted to use my personal day. All day Thursday I was perplexed by something my supervisor Brian said the other day when I told my coworkers about my gallery exhibit. He said that my work *looked* tame in comparison to the stuff that John Waters has in his house. This was odd because I’ve never shown him my artwork. The only people I’ve shown my paintings to at work are Helena and Deborah. I was supposed to have done a painting for Helena of her granddaughter Jasmine in her ballerina outfit. But Helena never bought in a photo so I never pressed the issue. I don’t want to appear to desperate to paint. Heck, I would have done it for free. Hey if anyone out there wants a portrait done I’ll do it for free.

The only possible explanation for what Brian said was that he must have done a Goggle search on my name and found my web site. I hope it’s the one that does not include a link to my blog. Oh, by the way in case you’re wondering the celebrity Helena most resembles is Patti Labelle, with curly hair. The celebrity Deborah most resembles is....hmm that’s a difficult one. I guess I’ll have to get back to you on that. The celebrity Brian most resembles is Mr. Clean and on some days when he’s unshaven he looks like GI Joe @ with Life Like Hair and Beard. You know what I think I shouldn't have told him that I sell my paintings on eBay from time to time. I’m sure he’s dissing me and my artwork behind my back, that is if he looked it up on the internet.

In other news I got a rejection letter from Lee and Low books. This one was kind of good yet bad. It said that the piece is not for us but do try us gain. I guess that means that they kind of liked my work and wouldn't mind if I sent them another story. Oh, well I guess I’ll have to shop my story around about a kid who grows up on a space ship exploring other planets to other markets. Who knows maybe I’ll get a bite? My goal this year ladies and gentleman is to send out two query letters a week preferably to book publishers and magazines who accept email queries. And I MEAN IT THIS TIME,.......really.

Oh, I never told you guys that I came close to being published in a magazine last year. The editor called my house and everything. He was really interested and was willing to work with me since it would be my first nationally published piece. Needless to say I freaked out and couldn't complete the article. I supposed it would be a bad idea for me to submit anymore query letters to Managed Care magazine, that is until they switch editors. In the meantime, maybe I should find a book about how to overcome writer’s block if the magazine query you’ve sent out is accepted after receiving 1 billion rejection letters. Yes, ladies and gentlemen I was stunned into writer’s block, virtually dumbfounded by acceptance. This more than anything should prove to be a cautionary tale against getting used to receiving rejection letters. Never Ever Get Used to Receiving Rejection letters! I think one day I’ll burn them all like one of my favorite writers, Janet Evanovich, claims to have done.

On the art front I have three small paintings I just completed. They have a 1940’s vibe to them. I guess I’m starting to be influenced by the work of Jack Vettriano. Anyway, these painting will be put up for sale on eBay as soon as I scan them. They look great I hope I have big sales from them!

I’m still working on my poster for the Sowebo festival. I hope to have it finished by the end of the week. If that happens I will be way ahead of schedule. Woo Hoo!! Yahoo!! Zip pee dee doo !!!

Aha!! It just occured to me that the celebrity Deborah most resembles is Marla Gibbs from 227. Please, don’t tell her I said that....