I still need to do a lot to have a professional display, but I can only do a bit at a time. There's so much cost involved in doing fairs! My mom built the shelving system from scratch! My husband made the cool bag display that has curly copper pipe...click for full views.
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Not only did I go to the gym with nervous pearlescent beads of sweat on my brow (the pearlescence comes from my high fat content)...I actually exercised. Friday I did the stationary bike for a few minutes and walked out like a proud high plains cowboy. It made me feel so good I went back on Saturday and stepped upon the dreaded eliptical trainer.
Stepping onto an impressive new piece of equipment holds such potential for embarrassment --and it was with a great deal of trepidation that I stepped onto this one. I started moving and thought "uh oh, I'm not going to make it for very long on this contraption..." But the very thought of stepping back off within five minutes was tempered with the frightful vision of the entire gym bursting into hysterical laughter so raucous that they'd all have to grab their crotches to keep from peeing in their pants.
So I stayed on the evil thing. And my butt ached. And I started um, breathing hard. I think my heart even pumped a little. And I stayed on for 20 minutes--quite respectable for slob of my stature. I worked hard for 15 minutes and tried not to pass out at a slower pace for 5 more minutes. Pathetic, I know, but I was terribly proud of myself. I had "worked out." I dejunked my trunk and maybe even some big veins down around my creaky knees.
We celebrated by going to the pool, getting sunburned and rearranging the living room. Life is good.
I don't wanna. I am scheduled to exercise after work. With my husband. I'm going to have to get off my ass and move around for the sake of keeping everything moveable. I used to exercise a lot. Then I dis-acquired a taste for the whole sweaty thing unless it produced a fibery thing to look at and touch. I got lazy. I started looking like a blob of cottage cheese thrown into the cheapest of plastic bags. I gained 30 pounds. I lost 30 pounds. I gained 30 pounds. I am really going to make it to the gym today because I promised. Out loud-so I couldn't get out of it-because I know I would have. I know I'll feel better afterward but I got out of The Habit. I am an all or nothing person. I either do The Habit or I don't do The Habit or I am actively quitting The Habit with Drama. Moderation is for extremists. Oh, I'm already sore. It'll be okay-peas are good for you.
Hey you arty-farty types out there...do any of you have any experience selling through local or regional galleries and if so, what has been your experience?
There's a new fine craft gallery opening in our area and I'm thinking about giving them a call. It's a 65-35 commission split, which according to what I've been able to find out, is a pretty sweet deal for the artist.
Anyway, share your wisdom!
that eating six giant-sized California strawberries would give me gas for two days?
Anyway. Blogging is slow this week. I am slow this week. I have my performance review for work today. Oh. Boy.
I need to exercise. I need to drink more water--hell, ANY water. I AM going to the Y after work today...we recently rejoined. Flub-glurble...I didn't always hate to exercise. Maybe I can knit while I bike...maybe I won't have strawberry-induced gas by then...maybe I should shut up and quit talking about fruity farting.
Sometimes you just run out of titles... I'm still in "whooped" condition so my promised photos haven't made the blog, but they will--I swear on a stack of stinky Junebugs...
I got something very cool in the mail yesterday...my commemorative knit kit from the American Red Cross! I'm so excited. The yarn is so soft and it came with the original 1942 instructions to make a pair of serviceman's socks. Cool...another picture I will be posting.
I did digital video filming in a cave this morning for work. I'm not kidding. But I'm too tired to tell you about it. I had to go shower and come back to work after we got done around lunchtime. Marketing is such a do-it-all field. I guess it made for a more interesting Tuesday morning than usual.
Well, like I told my co-worker yesterday, I've got one brain cell left and it's riding around on a squeaky unicycle. I'll check in later...hopefully with some pictures. Happy Tuesday, all!
We had beautiful weather for the arts and crafts fair this weekend. Sales were not great, but I had lots of people, including a woman who used to have two shops and judged crafts, tell me I needed to be in a better venue--and that I am severely underpricing my work. I got lots of ego-boosting, but also a lot of "what the hell?" looks from folks who were buying deely-bobbers and airplanes made out of Co*ke cans...so I think I might have outgrown the fair a bit...my pricepoints are too high for that particular fair at this point.
But I don't regret it...I got lots of important contacts for better venues and good feedback. I made my fees back plus a little wad to help pay for the fairs in the fall which are juried very selectively. You gotta start somewhere.
I could go on, but I'm too tired to even think. I will post a couple of pics tonight.Thanks for all the wonderful support and good wishes. It really makes a difference! Happy Monday.
 | I'll be at the Lenoir City Arts and Crafts Festival this weekend in booth GG, so come see if you are in the area! |
And that is a very accurate picture of how I'm feeling. Floob-garble...as in mush-brained. That's ok. This weekend will go okay and hopefully people will buy some stuff. I still vascillate day-to-day on what to do about school.
I feel like I left the impression that I was deciding between being a part-time artist or a full-time artist, but that's not really the case. The decision is between a) working full-time, doing internship and taking classes (and having no time for art for nearly a year), or b) working full-time, quitting school and spending more time with my art (but giving up a possible career change).
I think I have to be around people part of the time, so I will always work for the man (at least part-time). I would go Van Gogh-mad if I were left to my own devices in a studio full-time. There's also the consideration that I am the insurance carrier in the family. Hubby works for a small company that offers no benefits.
You would think I could just wait a year to resume my artistic endeavors, but I when I think about the possibility, it's like a child is being ripped from my bosom. And I'm not being dramatic...it feels that bad. I have so many ideas and I'm just getting started.
Bah! Bah! Bah! No wonder artists go nuts and chop off their ears. Okay no more whining...and probably no more blogging until after the weekend is over. I'll check in then. Have a wonderful rest of the week and weekend everyone. Thanks again for all the supportive comments--they were very much appreciated. *smooch!*
I need some toothpicks to keep my eyes open. I am really tired today. My wrists ache--no they hurt. Last night I had to file my fingertips to remove super-glue from them. I have to start picking and choosing what will be finished for the show rather than trying to finish everything... Doing a fair is neat, but it's exhausting. I wish I could skip the week prior because I'm either working my fingers to the bone (like this time) or pacing the floor nervously chewing my cuticles and feeling nauseous. Whatever.
Thanks y'all for all the supportive comments. My gut continues to churn about the whole thing and will eventually give me the right answer. Hope you're all having a great Wednesday...
Can you sleep with your eyes open?
I know I'm always whining about various things, but really life is good...it's just that I have some heavy decisions to make...like the one I'm afraid to even type out here...
...like I'm thinking about quitting school and working more with my dolls and felt. Throw away hundreds of hours of study? Ruin my chances of being a social worker/therapist? Give up my "noble" quest to lift up someone in the same way someone else uplifted me?
Dolls and felt may sound silly to someone else, but the draw of this art-making is unmistakable. And I have hundreds of ideas that are going undeveloped because there is no time to develop them.
When I was a kid I knew I wanted to write. I decided that in the fourth grade when, in thanks for a baby shower gift, my teacher gave me a note that said she "wanted to read one of my books one day." I STILL have that note. Have I written a book? No, not yet, but I love words and I always will. I'm not a great writer, but there's a place for words in my life and I hope I will always grow as a determined wordsmith.
The other things I have always loved--art and music. From day one. No question--it came with the original hardware. Finding a little niche that I'm fairly good at is absolutely intoxicating and it keeps tugging at me like a spoiled child with a sucker stuck in her hair. "Pay attention to ME! ME! ME!"
So, be something new? Or be what you were meant to be from the beginning?
I am on the cusp, the verge, of doing something really, a) crazy, or b) right.
Ugh, where's my Magic 8 Ball?
I have been working all day on trying to get linings and details sewn up on my handfelted bags. Fun Nazi: "No fun for you!" The fun was the felting. Measuring linings for irregularly sized pieces and sewing them by hand sucks donkey-shlongers.
Now that I am somewhat delirious and wanting to go bed, Baxter decided to get all existential on me and prove that he does indeed exist...by vomiting on the foot of bed. Do I have a clean set of sheets? Um, that would be a negative. Do I feel like doing laundry this late? That would also be a negative. I'm going back to handsewing and then it looks like I'm going to lull myself to sleep to the smell of old baked potatoes...
And why did God decide to put me in the front car? He's taking pictures of my wide-eyed, flapping-cheeked face going down the hill--and selling them on Ebay for fun. Ha! Ha! Ha. I feel like I'm riding the White-Knuckle Special these days. Ok, enough whining. Things are good when taken in perspective.
I couldn't get to sleep last night for two hours because I was thinking of all the hundreds of details to be wrapped up before this year's first art/craft show next weekend. It's not a big show for me, but a show is a show. And shows make me shit in my pants. Maybe it's because my craft means so much; maybe it's because having your innards on display can be painful.
Show attendees can either bolster your self-esteem or be absolute jerks. I'll never forget one felter, who is known internationally for her work, was at a show and a customer came up and said she should study with so-and-so to improve her work--that so-and-so was really good and could really help her along. If the dumbass had paid any attention to who she was talking to she would have noticed that she was actually talking to "so-and-so." All in all I guess it wound up being a compliment, but...sheesh.
I get people coming in going both "wow," and the Whisperers who come in and, while sneaking glances at me, talk about how "they could make that" and "we could do better than that!" or "we should be doing this." My advice is, you go right ahead. You go right ahead and get your work photographed, send applications out, pay exorbitant fees to get into shows, buy tents, build displays, get business cards printed, take off time from work to travel to shows, spend eight to twelve hours a day talking to people, hoping to sell, having your work dissected by rude people and hopefully appreciated by others. And don't forget to pay the taxes, fill out the paperwork, rent a Uhaul or borrow a van to haul your crap to and from shows, get rated by fair judges who may or may not know what they are doing, get into juried local guilds to build a reputation...and the list goes on and on... Yeah, please join the crowd. You have to really want to do it. Oops, I forgot you have to make time to MAKE your art. That takes a wee bit of time, too...especially if you are trying to fill a whole booth.
So there, I said it.
What was I going to talk about?
I forgot.
Sorry about the rant. I'll try to post more pictures this weekend.
In order to save you from reading the same old blather, today I'm merely going to simulate my whining. How much you are entertained will depend on the extent of your own imagination.
Wah! Wah, wah wah and then wah wah wah wah. Waa-a-a-a-a-a-h! Wah? Hell-wah!!!! Wah wah wah, you know, wah wah... Wah. Wah, mostly more wah. But wah? Wah beyond wah. Wah wah wah wah wah tangled up with wah. WAH BIG. wah small. WaH iN-bEtWeEn. Just wah. Super-duper wah-wah.
Wah.
Take the quiz: "Which American City Are You?"
San Francisco
Liberal and proud, you'll live your lifestyle however you choose in the face of all that would supress you.
Seen at Driving with Dawn
I did two pieces of felt last night, both failures. One can be fixed and one is going to be turned into a money bag to be used at fairs. Sometimes you just don't have the mojo going on. It's funny, I can feel when things are going to turn out and then other times when I don't have an "inner flow" going on, no matter how hard I try, the piece isn't worth looking at. Go figure.
More later frijoles!
Gary Trudeau intends on naming all the U.S. military personnel killed in Iraq in his Memorial Day cartoon. Keep an eye out for it: Story Here...
I was assigned to be "event photographer" over the weekend for work--and this and that bothering me kept me from being terribly productive with more felt. I can't talk about This and That here because it pertains to Another Person. I can't cross those lines on the blog. So I am still working through some stuff...the same stuff that mostly caused the original creative block. I will toil through it and I hope it doesn't block me again. It feels better to throw myself into my artwork and let it be for a while.
I am thinking about putting a small aquarium in my office to keep me perked up during the day. I feel like I'm working in a WWII bunker. It's a nice office, but absolutely no natural light, which makes for a Grumpy Girl Who Eats Too Much. I might make the leap into aquarium-dom at the end of the week when I get paid. "Here, fishy, fishy..."
Tired. I just have to thank you all again for all the nice comments. It's really helped me! I'm trying to get stuff done for my first craft show for the summer, which is the first weekend in June, so I have lots to do. I'm basically working my fingers to the bone every night after getting home from work, which is fun, but I'm getting really tired. That's okay, it's only a body-tired...it's the soul-tired I can't handle. I'll have some more pics this weekend. Gotta get back to work for The Man so I can buy more wool!
After muddling through such an awful--and terribly long--creative dryspell your kind comments on my latest stuff felt to me like a million hugs from a best friend. Thanks all for taking the time to encourage a friend on the mend. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you all. You helped energize my heart and hands...
I have no skin left on my hands, but quite frankly, I don't care. Got a jewelry heist for me to carry out? No problem, I have no fingerprints...
Anyway, here's more felting project photos as promised (most are the main parts of bags--i.e. straps and details have not been added yet):
First, for Cari, the planned strap for honeybuns...not attached yet, but in its proposed position...the strap is a felted braid.
Next up is the wool and Bashkir Curly Horsehair bag. I was initially disappointed, but when I brushed the horsehair to get rid of as many loose hairs as possible, it began looking like fur. Whoa, cool! And no animals were harmed in the making of this bag!
Below is a simple little green bag I'm calling "Lilypads" or maybe "Monet Meets the Liliputians." It's merino with merino and hand-dyed silk accents.
The next one is my favorite...a bag I'm calling "Radioactive Jewels." It's merino with merino accents and lots of my own hand-dyed silk. I love the zip of the shiny tussah!
and the other side:
Here is an earthtone bag in merino and mixed wools...
And that, my friends, is the end of our show. Please dispose of your popcorn bags and drink cups in the proper containers...
Last night I worked on a wool bag that incorporated fiber from the American Bashkir Curly Horse. I've had this fiber sitting around for a while and finally got around to experimenting with it. It made for a really rustic bag, but I'm afraid it will shed like crazy. I'll post pics later of that bag and others I've been working on.
To grommet or not to grommet; that is the question. I am most definitely having grommet anxiety.
I thought I would show some felting process pictures since I tend to not do that so often. This is a circular bag I'm going to call "honeybuns." What you're seeing is the making of the main part of the bag. First I layout all the wool. This first layer is about 2 ounces of Norwegian wool with mixed wools as decoration. Underneath the layer is a resist of calico cloth. The resist will keep the sides from sticking together when I add the other side. The layout here is about 16 or 18 inches across.
Now I'm adding hot water and soap and pressing all the air out of the first layer (a second layer waits off to the side for joining in a minute). In order to keep the wool from sticking to my hands, I use a slick material over the wool. It's important to not move the wool around at this point or your layout will be destroyed.
I've added the second layer, carefully overlapped the edges all around (the resist is now completely enclosed inside) and I've pressed all the air out of the wool again after adding more hot soapy water. This image below shows the piece after about 20 minutes of gently pressing everything together and very gently rubbing with the protective material as a buffer. The felt is just now holding together here and I can carefully flop it from one side to another without it falling apart.
Now comes about two or three hours of manual labor, rolling the felt in a bamboo sheet, spot felting the edges and joins on a glass washboard (that's what you see below), throwing on the table, rubbing, screaming and sweating. As soon as I feel the felt getting "tough," I cut away the opening of the bag and hold my breath while removing the calico. Getting smooth, even joins or seams is probably the most difficult part of this type of 3-D felting--also called Scandinavian felting.
You can see the resist (I used calico/tight weave cotton, but you can use other things) has kept the layers from felting together and has given me a completely seamless pouch!
The basic felting process is now done and I have the base pouch to play with. Lots of details are left, but the seamless pouch is finished except for a vinegar dip (one cup to a gallon of water) to neutralize the soap's alkaline residue. I also "shaved" this bag so the design would show up better. It was a bit hairy. The finished bag is about two-thirds the original size!
Secret Agent Eyebooger observes from the spelsau batt and is not amused.
Considering I rarely finish a knitting project, can you tell me why I spun all this? Navajo-ply, two-ply, singles of all thicknesses, hand-dyed, commercial roving, handcarded, spun from the fold, straight on...I just want to roll in it. I think about knitting it, but I wind up just smelling and squeezing it. Clearly, I have a disorder.
I was working on some felt this evening and I heard some crinkling and crumpling going on this box that was behind me...
After lifting the pink paper, I saw that Mr. Rooney, a.k.a. Secret Agent Eyebooger, decided to make a nest in my best Norwegian wools...
Sadie, a.k.a. Princess Fat Dog, did a good job with the investigation, so all is secure again.
So, I've been doing some different things with my wool lately. These are wet-felted from loose wools as usual, but in some different designs. These are only the base parts of the bags...there's lots of finishing to do to them (funky linings, felt straps--which I like to put on the outside, instead of felted in)...anyway, some of the creative block is giving way...
Check out the Rocky Top Brigade Scratchcard Edition posted by our illustrious, bat-loving host Queen MedB.
From Abu Ghraib to Latin America: Map of U.S. Pattern of Abuse Grows
Torture of Iraqi Soldiers Indicative of Ongoing Policy of Systematic and Illegal Abuse
Recent reports of the torture of Iraqi detainees at the Abu Ghraib military prison near Baghdad are part of a larger pattern of abuse and torture at the hands of U.S. soldiers, U.S.-trained soldiers, "independent contractors" and intelligence agents around the world. In fact, U.S. Army intelligence manuals advocating torture techniques and how to circumvent laws on due process, arrest and detention were used for at least a decade to train Latin American soldiers at the U.S. Army's School of the Americas, renamed in 2001 the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation or WHINSEC.
read more if you can stomach it...
And I can't even begin to talk about Nick Berg.
Someone said to me the other day "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't..." The comment wasn't related to the demise of humanity or the current political arena, but it sure does fit a lot of the scenarios currently at play.
Last night I went out to water the herb and shade garden because our house has been earmarked to have an individualized drought while rain falls in all other neighborhoods around us and a lady walked by and said "hi." I said "hi, how are you?" back to her. Then she asked me for money to feed her baby and that she wouldn't have money until tomorrow because her son, who works at the McDonald's down the street, won't get paid until then.
I thought about telling her the truth--that I really didn't have anything to give her, but our house probably suggests otherwise. So I just very apologetically said I can't. She told me to have a blessed evening and walked on. My heart wanted to give, but my brain kept stepping in, having been scammed so many times.
Then I felt like shit anyway.
Even though I knew she was probably lying.
I thought later the next time someone says they need money for food, I will offer to go get them something and bring it right back. Then, it will be obvious if they are wanting food or something else.
In the Great Smoky Mountains National Park there's a place called "Cades Cove," a beautiful scenic valley with lots of wonderful wildlife. Ma and I drove through there after we went horseback riding last week. If we had driven through during the morning or early evening hours we would have seen hundreds of deer munching in the fields. East Tennessee is a beautiful place.
I feel so much shame over the treatment of Iraqi prisoners that I have avoided blogging about it after the initial shock of the news. My Fellow Man needs a copy of the Geneva Convention in order to know that rape, torture and humiliation of prisoners is wrong? My Fellow Man takes pictures of unspeakable acts and smiles for the world to see the depravity present in our own kind?
No really, I mean that with all my heart. I forgot to thank the drunken creep who started ringing our doorbell at 3:45 a.m. Monday morning because he said he needed $17 to get a tow truck for his wife and "they won't take checks or debit cards."
Neither hubby or I could sleep after that. We seem to be on the National Scam Interstate Route. Last week it was a girl saying she needed to talk to 1,000 people who would rate her on her friendliness and buy from her list of magazines. I just plainly told her we'd been scammed before and I couldn't do it. She said "well, that ruins it for the rest of us." Really?
We always get the same amount requested from us ($15-$18). Is that what a little bag of
"sumpin-supmin" costs these days? It seems to be the going rate around here. Ah, the joys of living near downtown.
I'm back. One person asked me how my vacation was and that's only because he wanted me to do something. I miss the old days in my department when everyone was really friendly and we all went on beach trips together and such. It's not like that anymore. Update 5-11: Okay, so I was just being bitchy. My office-bud, Inn was even out sick upon my return, so yah, I can be dramatic and bitchy all at the same time...'cause I'm multi-talented like that! Sorry, Inn. Ahem, oh yeah, a couple of people asked me later in the day anyway. Double the dose.
Oh well, I have to suck it up and pay the bills.
I had a nice relaxing vacation. I spent some time with my mom with whom I went horseback riding, hoofed around nearby Asheville and played slots. I took her to a casino for a day of gambling on Mother's Day...how about that for a non-traditional gift? She had a blast and so did I.
I did one sculpt of a doll head and a couple of felt pieces, but other than that I am still experiencing creative block. I think I'm perpetuating the problem by worrying about it.
So I'm not going to worry about it. I hope you all have been well. I gave myself a week-long break from blogging as well.
Thanks for giving Leigh-Anne so much feedback on the commemorative knit kit. I thought it was pretty neat, too. Happy Monday...blech!
This is darn interesting. Leigh-Anne at Over Coffee works at the Red Cross and asked me about a knit-your-bit kit they might be doing.
The commemorative knitting kit will raise funds for the American Red Cross and is based on the original world war era "Knit Your Bit" campaign, which enabled civilian volunteers to support troops by knitting needed clothing and blankets. Their goal is to release this knit kit for the 60th anniversary of D-Day and as the world remembers and memorializes the 60th anniversary of the ending of World War II (throughout this year). SHE IS LOOKING FOR FEEDBACK FROM KNITTERS--POSITIVE OR CONSTRUCTIVE.
And, oooooh, I feel all special because she let me post the prototype/preliminary design here to give you an idea about the kit. It is a sock-knitting kit that will include instructions and all the tools necessary to produce one pair of WWII regulation socks. There also will likely be two other sets of instructions for vintage/era knitting projections such as a muffler, gloves and/or cap. In the original sample there were going to be three smaller skeins of yarn (20% wool/80% acrylic), but they are now considering a single large skein of high quality (80% wool/20% acrylic) yarn to add value to the kit and for greater authenticity to the original wool yarn distributed by the Red Cross to volunteer knitters. The kit is contained in a reusable tin--good for storing needles, buttons, notations, instructional booklets, etc. (My personal opinion that I wrote back was that the more authentic, the better; e.g. no nasty acrylic).
At 2 p.m. today I will walk out the door of my office for a week. A WHOLE week. The semester ended two days ago and my instructor emailed my grade...an "A" by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin. Gi-i-i-i-i-inngggggg-g-ger! (sorry, inside joke).
Most of my vacation days this year have been taken to work on a paper, study for a test, or because I was at the point of chasing imaginary bugs on the wall with the cats--and saving their imaginary exoskeletons to make imaginary mosaic wall art and sell it on Ebay.
This is different.
This is planned relaxation. I am going horseback riding with my mom and maybe running up to West Virginia to see DH's mee-maw. The rest of the time is free for creative endeavors (felting and dollmaking) and swinging freely in the hammock.
I haven't decided if I'm really going to ignore the Internet for the week or not. I'll let you know. C'mon 2 p.m., I'm ready.
"That soldier said, 'There are some things going on here that I can't live with,'" said Kimmitt, who also confirmed that CBS had obtained the photographs.
Thank God there are a few people in the world who say "no more." I would hate to see a pie chart representing humans with a conscience and those without.
I was grumpy and tired last night. I got into bed about 11:30 p.m. and was prepared to snooze like a baby--until a troop of EVIL FELINES descended upon me. For most of the night Rooney slobbered and made "biscuits" in my hair while Baxter decided my face would be his roost of choice. And God forbid one of them get too close to the other and set off the dreaded kitty-in-my-space-alarm. But they did and the batting, smacking and whining all ensued upon my groggy and grumpy head.
The only way I can get Rooney to stop slobbering and pulling my hair is to coax him under the covers. Then he settles in for a while and purrs like the little mad animal he is until he gets too hot after which he shoots from under the covers and disappears. That's the routine. Last night he apparently dipped into some kitty crack because once he got under the covers he decided to root his way to the end of the bed and start furiously licking my husband's toes.
Dear Kitty, what is WRONG with you? Dear Kitty, is your food missing an essential vitamin? Dear Kitty, are you trying to dissolve me with your stinky-gum-disease slobber, wrap me in a cocoon and save me for a late night snack? Oh dear, Kitty.
Sometimes I am just a dumb ass. If you're trying to make a point (NOTE TO SELF) do not misspell "Holocaust." Don't even ask how I had it spelled. ANYWAY, the final for the semester, which was strangely easy (I think), is turned in. I am getting freer still...and the excitement continues to grow in my own curmudgeonistic way.
Outside my window I hear the wild chirping of newly hatched fledglings. There's a bird nest of little black birds, perhaps Starlings, nestled in an "old house hole" under one of our gutters. Noisy little bastards, but I just love hearing them.
Well...damn it; out of toilet paper, out of alcohol, out of tomatoes, out of bread, out of cat litter, out of fresh sheets (thanks to a stealth-puking-cat). Better get busy. I have to wash those black pants again for tomorrow you know. Eh, maybe I'll wash them tomorrow. Sheets, definitely. Pants, maybe.
Thank you All Seasons for the reminder to pay attention. Feel free to steal and share the image (genocide in the Sudan).
It really strikes me that there are enough evil people in the world to band together and commit mass atrocities. Rape and torture have always been tools of war since the beginning of time. It's strategic purpose is to eat away at the fabric of humanity in the enemy's camp. Families are broken. Spirits are broken. Hope is lost. Fear is ever-present. The damage to the ethnic group is long-term and painful. We watched genocidal efforts happen in Bosnia, in Guatemala (although lesser known) and during the Holocaust. There are others.
And I am sickened by my own passivity.
*For some reason the link to Passion in the Present is currently down, but I hope it will be back up soon.
NOTE: UNTIL THE SITE COMES BACK UP, THE ICON COMES OFF, BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THESE PEOPLE (AMONG SO MANY OTHERS UNDER SIEGE, IN YOUR PRAYERS, DRUM-BANGING, OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU DO TO SEND OUT GOOD VIBES...
Sometimes you fit Where You Are, but sometimes You Don't Fit. It only matters if you are not okay with Not Fitting. If you Must Fit, then expect to give up Valuable Things in order to become One Who Fits. If you realize You Do Not Fit when you are in a place where You Must Fit, then you must remove yourself from the Ill-Fitting Situation. Then begins the journey of finding the Place Where You Fit. If there is No Place Where You Fit, then you must make your Own Place Where You Fit. You might be The Only One Who Fits There.
And That's OKAY.
It's Monday, doggone it. And it's raining. BUT, next week I'm off...as in vacation. Oh dear God, it could not get here fast enough. The semester ends on Wednesday. I only need to turn in a final exam and I'm free.
I am hoping I can get some creative stuff done while I am off and I'm thinking I'll take the week off from blogging as well. I want all strings to be snipped for a week. I want to roll around in the grass like a dog on a stinkbug.
It's 2:30 p.m. and I am still in my pajamas. I don't know what else to say. Perhaps I should get dressed. Maybe.
This is just a note to say "thanks" for letting me live through another work week. And another note of thanks for keeping me just sane enough to not be admitted to an inpatient psychiatric facility. Oh, and one more "thank you" for allowing the butt seam of my black pants to hold the buns in one more week. Whew.
Go to my Ebay Store for unscrupulous deals on craft and knitting books!!! I'm cleaning out the craft book shelves. Tell your friends! All the books are in fabulous condition and are offered at a fraction of the original purchase price (read: I'm broke).
I'll probably close this Ebay store soon. It costs to keep it open, you know...and I haven't been listing a lot of stuff there lately. Dunno, I'll think about it.
I would like to thank my loyal assistants...
Grayson (front) and Atticus work hard while I list my books on Ebay. I couldn't have done it without them.
Junior has already grown up and is nearly as large as Big Honkin' Mama Bloom. They kind of look like boobs, don't they? And, true to life, one is slightly bigger than the other.
Baxter continues to do okay, but we are going for our monthly bloodwork to check his thyroid on Saturday. He's sitting in an old fireplace thing (what do you call them, log-holders?)...anyway, it's a wonderful, and very heavy, thing to put potted plants in. Why no potted plants? I killed them. Not on purpose mind you, but they have all fluttered away to Compost Heaven.
Here's a closer image. You can see smudges of that nasty vitamin stuff I have to give him every night. It looks like gravy and stinks like putrid hell. He gags and gets through it. Poor kitty! He's about 13 years old now and was a shelter kitty.
I don't know why I am so picture happy this week. Must be Spring.
Like I said in the last post, it's always a surprise to see what's come to be in the yard whilst I have been working. Yesterday, I got home to find junior cradled in the shadow of Big Honkin' Mama Bloom.
And whoever said a dog can't smile, hasn't met my little fat dog Sadie...
Poor little Pickles doesn't take kindly to the camera, but I, as Wile E. Photographer, caught her unawares...
and one more Spring-like portrait for the day, because she really DOES smile. See?
I hope Spring is on the way wherever you are! Have a happy Wednesday!
And oh, how I miss my window. I was lucky in the office window department from 1989 until fall of 2000. Now, I am bathed in the sickly glow of flourescent nastiness all day. I am very light-sensitive. The more light I get, the happier I am. Literally.
Anyway. One of the highlights of the day is always being greeted by new blooms in the yard during Spring. Yesterday my peony, which is planted in the center of my herb garden, decided to explode. Wow! I sank my face down into the the bloom and inhaled deeply with total disregard for the plumes of pollen wiggling up my nostrils.
Then, I was greeted by my favorite welcoming committee, Pickles and Sadie.
After feeding the pupgals their dinner, it was such a beautiful day I plopped down in the hammock behind the shade garden. What a view! Beyond the arch you can see the blooming dogwoods (It took us at least five years to get those vines to properly grow around the archway). Every year I find another plant for the shade garden that can survive my inept gardening skills. Only the tough survive in my yard.
Ahhhhh, Spring. Breathe it in.
Like the song goes, para-noi-ya will de-stroy ya. I had a community activism workshop to go to Friday afternoon, so I had to take off early Friday. Still haunted by the red pen dashing through my paper Wednesday night, I was compelled to ask my instructor about my paper. She didn't seem to remember so she said "let's go look, I have them with me." She said she had glanced at it the night before. As I watched her flip through, I didn't see any red ink. NO red ink. It wasn't my paper upon which she had unleashed her wrath. Hmm. She said it looked fine and it was okay I had written it on my own. Sheesh, all that worryin' for nuttin'.
This past weekend you may have noticed I didn't peck out nary a word on the blog. That's because it was one of the most beautiful, warm spring weekends I can remember. Temperatures were between 75-80 and every dogwood and apple tree was bursting with blooms. I worked in the yard and planted arugula, sage, tarragon and cilantro in the herb garden. I also transplanted a ton of peppermint to a new area. I wish someone had told me that peppermint is the herb of satan. It is EVERYWHERE. When I went to bed Saturday night I saw PEPPERMINT when I closed my eyes. Kudzu doesn't hold a candle to that stuff.
I also knitted and felted a bit. Unfortunately my three hours of knitting has to be ripped because the damn pattern was wrong. Experienced knitters see these things before a great amount of energy is spent. We perpetual beginners blindly follow the pattern and then are put upon to invent new curse words when we finally figure out we just tortured our tendons for no good reason. Rip!
Happy Monday!
 | Turns out I was sent the wrong forms for field placement. I don't start working three million hours a week this summer, but in the fall. Woo-hoo, that gives me time to do some art fair material, which makes me do the happy dance. I have been temporarily pardoned! |
There's nothing like a little geography test to make you feel like a moron...
Can you pass the third grade?
I got close, but no cookie. What do you expect from someone who still has to check her driver's license EVERY TIME she has to give the number over (I've had the license since 1996).
Last night's class turned out to be a little field trip to the University Center auditorium to hear a speaker on environmentalism and social justice. It was interesting and quite scary to hear. I might write more about that later.
Before the speaker began our instructor took the opportunity to start looking over my paper. I was sitting about five rows behind her and about 10 seats to her left, so I could see what she was doing. And what she was doing was scribbling like mad with a red pen. It went like this:
...one-thousand-one, one-thousand-two...scribble, scribble, scribble...one-thousand-three, one-thousand-four...scribble, scribble, scribble, scribble...one-thousand-five...scribble, scribble...scribble, scribble...
She's going to run out of ink on the damn thing. I fear for my grade for the first time in graduate school. I had a bad feeling when I turned it in, especially after I learned that it was supposed to be a GROUP paper. I did mine by myself because I didn't absorb that little snippet of information. Maybe I'll get some pity points (NOT).
It is what it is. Gotta look at the big picture. I mean, when you see THIS FREE KNITTING PATTERN you just have to wonder just what is really important in this world.
I have found that my anxiety level has a positive relationship to the number of blog entries I produce. The more anxious I am about a project or some other tasty morsel of impending doom deserving due procrastination (did you get that play on words?), the more I write. I've figured out that blogging is the equivalent of pinching myself to make sure I am still here and capable of the most sophisticated form of avoidance known to man. If other people are reading this, then I must STILL be ALIVE and successfully procrastinating! Either that or we're all burning in hell together and making friends while we fashionably fry.
That's a good thing. To be alive, I mean.
I am nearing, dare I say it, a WEEK of v...a...c...a...t...i...o...n... Right after the semester is over. And this pudgy little gal ain't doin' nuttin' except making arty farty fun things, ingesting food and drink that are plastered with warning labels and happily playing with the dogs and cats. The only thing between me and paradise is a final exam (well, and work). The idea of just hanging out makes me swoon.
I might even buy some fancy underwear for the occasion. You know, the kind that doesn't come in a six-pack.
As in done. Kind of. As done as it gets.
Anyway.
Get over to Dooce's house and send her some good vibes. She's needing some strength for all that weight she's carrying right now.
This paper is driving me insane. I see a round hole, I pick up a square peg. So what if I had to nibble off the corners in a fit of insanity? It fits, right? Peg wood is roughage, right? Kind of like when you get a bug in your teeth. That's protein.
This is one rotten paper. It's worse than my high school school paper comparing two books, for which I read one. Yes, I will burn in literary hell forever while Dorothy Sayers tortures me with papercuts made with the pages of that unread book.
That's what happens when you insist square pegs go into round holes. You get bugs in your teeth and toothpicks in your stomach.
And, for God's sake, will someone stop me from blogging multiple times a day?!!
I contend that The Swan is the worst reality show ever made. Why? Because it reflects our real-life warped values we present for women to digest on a daily basis. I watched a bit of one show and I was just sick.
Number One: There is nothing WRONG with the women in the beginning other than a serious lack of self-esteem and confidence.
Number Two: The experts are all shallow plastic morons with giant fake Chiclet teeth who do not have a CLUE as to what life is really all about. I guess they know all these hopeless gals are going to be repeat customers when they start the ageing process! "Oh my God, I'm ugly AGAIN!"
Number Three: The panel of experts includes a therapist. Gah! No decent, ethical therapist would be on such a panel because beauty isn't created by a knife and a vat of greasy make-up. I hope the money's good, because I know the therapy ain't.
Number Four: People LIKE this show. That alone is indicative of a serious problem in our society. If these people were missing arms and legs or had cleft palates or something I could get into the show. Watching women blubber on about how they've never thought they were pretty...well, honey, a knife, 10 pounds of make-up and a nice dress ain't gonna fix that.
Number Five: They are then JUDGED! How about that for the most ridiculous and dysfunctional ending to the process? Let's "grade" you and see if YOU ARE PRETTY ENOUGH. These women came in with a plethora of inferiority complexes to begin with. I abhor pagents anyway. Don't give me that "it's all about scholarships" shit. It's about how you look, whether or not you know how to use duct tape on your boobs and if you can string a couple of sentences together. Period. Got an apple shape? You ain't gettin' no crown. Can't we get PAST THIS CRAP?
I can't stand the thought of pre-pubescent girls clamoring to see this putrid garbage.
At least once a day I wonder why the human race is not extinct.
Aren't you jealous? Lori's art cards arrived yesterday. Aren't they great? Click on the picture to go see for yourself.
The prize-winning Google search for the day landing at my site? (drum roll) "sniff my father's stink underwear"
Now my life is complete.
| It looks like this old girl just needed some fresh air and sunshine, which I got plenty of on the drive over to my friend's house. On the 3 1/2 hour drive I had the sunroof open, windows down, and Badly Drawn Boy playing--I forgot how much I liked their music. I had fun at LA's house. We didn't really do much, just relaxed, cooked, walked around the neighborhood, etc. Her little dog, Hattie, is really hysterical. Since my friend sleeps with her, she gets a bath and blow-dry at least once a week. The funny thing is that when LA dries her hair in the morning, Hattie runs over to get her blow-dry, too. LA gives her a couple of passes with the dryer and pats her on the head so she can go on about her business. And like LA says, she is a VERY busy dog. I just loved her. |  |
 | I also got to see a painting LA commissioned of her house. Isn't it cool? Nashville has so many neat old houses. I forgot to take a picture of the chandelier she bought--it was made by Paige's mom! It is really wonderful and is extremely simliar to this one. It might be the same one for all I know. Fun stuff. |
| I happily did NOT work on my paper all weekend--all the material stayed in my trunk. I'll have to rush a bit tonight and tomorrow night to get it done, but I don't care--mama needed a mental break. Hope everyone had a great Easter! | |
 | I'm "off" today, meaning I took a "vacation" day to work on my paper and leave town after lunch to see a sorely missed friend of mine in Nashville for the weekend. My morning consisted of staring at the computer, trying some things with my paper, reading journal articles, feeling sick, crying my eyes out because I can't concentrate, attaining a dizzy headache, taking a shower, throwing my very fattest clothes and 10,000 books and articles in a bag and getting ready (which is where I am now...blogging before I go.) I hope my attitude changes before I show up at poor LA's house. "Hi girlfriend, I'll be your friendly basketcase for the weekend"...at least I can be an Easter Basket-case, eh? Well, Happy Easter all. I won't be such a grumpy egg the next time I blog--I hope. |
My imagination is the only limit to what I'd like to do to this sack of shit. There's a link for sending condolences to Gizmo's owners.
Cuticle implants, that is. By the time I finish this dastardly research paper I am going to need the ends of my fingers replaced. I've gnawed them down like a hungry little beaver on crack. Only ice cream can help with a situation like this...
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On the way to a video editing session yesterday, I passed by my old neighborhood and took some photos where DH and I first lived together. It was a really cool first floor apartment, and where we met our little Pickles, rescued a roadside kitten and added a funny little Manx kitty. We loved that old house with its porch swings and Victorian elegance. It had really high ceilings and light to kill for. I took lots of good black and white kitty portraits there before my autofocus broke and I couldn't see worth shit to focus myself. (Guess I need glasses after all.) I look back and wish I hadn't been so horribly depressed during those years--I would have spent a lot more time on that porch swing. I miss that porch now. | |
 | For the Critter Chick, another drive-by shooting of the mounding habits of phlox... |
Yes, way. I just noticed as I was posting my previous sarcastic/bitchy post that Hatamaran passed 10,000 visits today. And only 9,492 were me!!! (Actually I have my IP blocked on my stats, but still...) Ten-thousand crazy people have gotten so bored that they have visited this site (well, okay, 10 people who visit a lot...). Amazing. Gosh, I wonder how many people would visit if I said something IMPORTANT. Hmmm *twiddles thumbs as wheels turn*
Well, in honor of 10,000 visitors, I'm going to change my UNKY MOOD to EXCITED. Gosh-darn-it. You love me. You REALLY love me!
I'm going to pretend I'm excited as I return to my research paper. *la, la, la, la, denial...denial...denial*
My inner evil child comments on this article in italics
Survey Reveals More Americans Are Using Tax Refunds for Periodontal Plastic Surgery for Health, Cosmetic Reasons
CHICAGO, IL--(MARKET WIRE)--Apr 6, 2004 -- It's tax time and for people who are getting a refund (you son-of-a-bitch-I-hate-you), many of them already know how they'll spend it (I'm gonna poke yer eyes out right after I finish this gallon carton of no-name-knock-off of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, you son-of-a-bitch!). A new on-line survey conducted by the American Academy of Periodontology shows that nearly one-third of people getting refunds are putting their money where their mouths are by having periodontal plastic surgery.(You self-absorbed piece of yak dung!)
According to the survey:
-- 84% of respondents say the appearance of their teeth and gums is
extremely important
-- 79% expect a tax refund (Why the hell am I in the 21%?!!!!????? You cock-a-mamie son-of-a-bitch, I'm gonna break yer teeth off with my discount drugstore eyelash curler that causes my eyeballs to swell shut cuz it has nickel in it! Right after I finish this 12-pack of Black Label beer. Then, I'm gonna git my cousins to open a can of whoop-ass on you!)
-- 34% will spend tax refund on periodontal plastic surgery
I wish it wuz me.
/end evil inner child
holy shit...
And I was afraid of having a baby without an epidural...One tough broad on the other side of this link.
Muggly-buggly, I don't feel great today. Camp o' Crampo. You'll be in tent Torso Torsion. Well, whatever.
I think DH are doing taxes tonight finally. Oh, how I dread it. Oh, I hope I don't have to get a loan to cover it. (insert general gnashing of teeth here.) Well, whatever.
I knitted a little on Kyoto, studied and watched some tube last night. Average Joe turned out to be Typical Joe and Socialite Skank ran off with the money-laden doofus. The other gal can do much better. Well, whatever.
I'm listening to my Dandys this morning whilst I work, but not too loudly lest I be pegged a dastardly sinner. Well, whatever.
Flub-lubbb-lubbber...just too tired to tweak and twizzle today.
p.s. Check out the Yum-Yums list...there are some new artists listed in there who are really cool, namely Loretta Lux and La-Dee-Da Folk Art (found over at Looby Lu).
And that is an oxymoron (well, a two-word one, but nevertheless). Thank God for Daylight Savings Time. I need more vitamin D. I had a pretty boring weekend...working in the yard and watching movies (we rented "Something's Gotta Give" which was fantastic!). DH had a boy's night out on Saturday night, so my weekend was pretty boring. That happens when you're broke. Oh, have I mentioned that before? I have? Are you sure? Sorry about that.
I took my little project list off the left column because I decided that it was a hindrance, rather than a motivator. Sometimes I go through a creative angst period where I don't create a lot and feel anxious about it the entire time. I guess my irrational fear is that my creative self has taken a permanent flight. I have a couple of paintings in mind that I think I need to try to do. I'm not a really painter, but I know enough that I can use the medium as self-expressive therapy. The ideas won't really work as 3-D figures and I don't want to force the images into a medium that doesn't nurture the message. I think I am anxious about so many things right now that it's really got me creatively constipated.
This week is one of catching up at work, writing papers and reading articles for school. Bah humbug. I am going to get out and go to Nashville this weekend to see a good friend of mine. I really miss her. We worked together for many years.
Baxter continues to do better and we are still feeding him a dropper of vitamins everyday. It's much like one of those "shoot the duck" carnival games where the little tin ducks are flying across the target range and you just have to point, shoot and hope for the best. In other words, I get a lot of the stinky vitamin mixture on me as well.
Well, happy monday, oxymoron or not!
Barry at Glurps inn of last home has the Rocky Top Brigade Volunteer Tailgate Party this week. This one is truly priceless. I laughed out loud. Go see!!!
Today I get recognized for fifteen years of service to my company. Fifteen-that's a teenager. Fifteen-that's um, three times five. Uh. Anyway.
I started working at this company in 1989. I've held many positions, but they've always been within the marketing/advertising/PR departments. I've had the titles of editor, coordinator, director, manager and general idiot pasted on my badge (okay, one of those titles isn't real--c'mon the LAST one--sheesh). I am hoping I will only be here one more year. The finish line year. The transitional year. The year of gnashing of teeth. Okay, that's dramatic.
So, I get to go to a luncheon where my boss will get up and say a few words. Hrm. I think these things are useless. Give me money. Plus, they will make no concessions for a vegetarian lunch. I asked about it and the event coordinator said "oh I don't know what the menu is but I'm sure they'll have some vegetables and salad--they always do." You know what went through my mind at that point? Fuck you. That's right, I said a wordy-durd. I am slowly becoming a belligerent vegetarian. Tennessee is NOT a vegetarian-friendly state. There's a couple places that know how to serve vegetarian fare, but for the most part this is meat-n-taters country honey! You gotta' be a Baptist, pig-feet eatin' kinda gal around here. Dear God, please bless this cow intestine casserole I am about to consume. I'm not asking for much, just to make sure that after FIFTEEN YEARS OF SERVICE, that at MY CELEBRATORY LUNCH, I get to eat something besides a buttered piece of stale bread and a cup of green beans. Bah. I'm going to wear a sandwich board that says "Bite me, I'm meatless." I not a meat-eater-hater (my husband is a meat-eater), but I just want to be able to eat something without meat in it.
Whatever. I do like green beans though. I wonder if they'll have green beans? (Seasoned with bacon fat I'm sure.)
Update for above: Yes, I now feel like an ungrateful bitch. Which I am sometimes, like today. I really had fun, ate about a pound of delicious asparagus that didn't taste like bacon grease and my boss, who is WAY too nice to me, said some really nice things about me and my work. Sometimes I am brutally moronic. *smack, smack* Snap out of it! I wonder if being an ungrateful bitch is hereditary? Well, you know I told my boss just how awesome she is and how much I appreciate her flexibility and support. And I do.
And, if you'll notice, the Yack-O-Meter has slowed down tremendously. I started feeding the kitties Purina One Sensitive Stomach and everyone is gaining weight and keeping their food where it belongs--in the tummy or in the litter box. We only had one puke yesterday and I think that was from getting a chicken soup treat from my husband. I was feeding them Science Diet Sensitive Stomach and they hated it--not to mention that is was more than twice the price. Mama likes fat kitties; yes, she does.
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