Thursday, November 20, 2003

I ended up being pretty productive on the crafting front yesterday. While I watched/listened to The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers I added another 4 inches to my afghan, and stitched this cute cross stitch Christmas ornament:

Snowman Card

Then I read some more Wolves of the Calla and finally turned in at around 6 am. You'd think that given the time that I went to bed, that I would sleep all day...but you'd be wrong. I woke up at around 8, with my brain buzzing. I think I need to get a job. I have too much time on my hands.

Monday, November 03, 2003

Saturday I was pretty much sick as a dog all day. Blah. More tea, more cough drops, more cold medicine. Movie watching, video games. Sunday...more of the same, though I started feeling a little better in the evening. I worked on, and finally finished, the cross stitch project I started about 12 years ago. It has been pitifully close to being finished for about 6 years, but I haven't worked on it in all that time. Finally it just seemed a shame not to complete it. So, here it is:

Summer Carousel
Of course, now the question is, what do I do with it? Any suggestions?



What's that I hear? I think it's the crafting supplies calling to me. I better go see what they want.

Sunday, November 02, 2003

Picked up fired flowerpot at Claytopia. I am pleased with the results.

Celtic Knotwork planter

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Yesterday, I met heathertea and one of her friends in Northampton to do some pottery painting. I didn't have anything specific in mind, but was thinking that I would like to make a Christmas present for my dad and stepmother. I had considered doing a vase for them before, but I wasn't really happy with the shapes of any of the vases, and didn't know what to do with it, anyway. Looking through their basket of stencils, I found a cool celtic knot dog stencil, and went searching for something big enough to use it on. I ended up choosing a planter, and painting it in earth tones, a base coat of brown, with a sponged on layer of red to give it some depth, and the design done in two shades of brown, dark in the center of the design and fading to a lighter color on both sides. HT did a plate in yellow, with orange flowers, as a present for her parents, and her friend did a cup and saucer, blue with witch design on the saucer and a day/night theme on the cup. They all looked pretty cool, and I can't wait to see what the finished products look like. I can go pick up my project on Thursday.

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

I also hit the craft store and picked up some yarn so I can start on an afghan for my nephew. It's about time. I made an afghan for my sister about 4 years ago, and the boys have been bugging me about getting their own ever since. Luke wants shades of blue, and Jer wants red and black. I picked up some multi-colored yarn that is red, black and white, but didn't see any good blues. I'll have to hit some other stores later, but at least I can get started on one of the blankets now.

Friday, September 26, 2003

Spent an afternoon crafting with and , during which I finally finished the mask I began on Valentine's Day.

Before

After

The remainder of my time has been filled with "actively seeking employment," crafting projects, hanging out with J, watching movies and way too much TV, and generally enjoying the respite from work.

Thursday, July 31, 2003


Jen's platypus



Monkeys=funny



Elephant on parade



Hee hee hee. I had to include this picture because it cracks me up.

Friday, July 25, 2003

Tuesday, April 22, 2003

So this weekend, my roommate and I went to Claytopia to paint some pottery...and I took pictures.
We had already planned out our projects for the day, and brought along some pictures to use as guides. So, we picked out the plates we wanted to paint, and then had to decide what colors we wanted to use:



Then we got to work painting the background color. And then painting it again. And then painting it again. (For those of you who have not attempted this sort of craft before, in order to have a nice even finish that isn't streaky, you have to use three coats of paint)



With the background done, my roommate began drawing her design on her plate. I traced my pattern and started painting.



Approximately 6 hours after we started, we had completed our painting projects and had this to show for our work:



Finally, today we were able to pick up our finished projects, which had been fired over the weekend, so now they look like this:

Monday, April 07, 2003

I walked in the door this evening, looked around my apartment, and decided that it was time to vacuum. For those of you who think vacuuming is no big deal, I say, "You obviously don't live in an apartment with five cats, and two women with long hair."

Vacuuming is not about taking out the vacuum cleaner, plugging it in, making a pass or two across the carpet and putting it away again. This is cleaning on an epic scale.

First, you have to pick up the worst of the cat fur and people hair to prevent it from getting wound around the vacuum, causing the motor to burn out. Next, you take out the vacuum, plug it in, turn it on, laugh as the five adorable reasons why your apartment is always a mess go scampering from the room.... Then, you get to run the vacuum for a few minutes before the smell of burning hair alerts you to the fact that the person who vacuumed last probably skipped step one. You extricate the clumps of hair and dust from the vacuum cleaner with a pair of scissors, then run the vacuum some more. Back and forth, back and forth...it makes absolutely no difference. It's time to break out the attachments. You run the hose directly over the carpet, attacking the worst of the cat fur and listening to the rattling of something (a thumb tack? a paper clip? who knows?) stuck in the bowels of the vacuum hose. Finally, when the carpet is as free of fur as it is ever likely to get, you put the vacuum away, and break out the scissors again, to cut away the parts of the carpet that the cats have been using as a scratching post.

If you're like me, and allergic to practically everything, you perform this whole operation with a paper mask attached to your face, steaming up your glasses and hoping that you will still be able to breathe when it's all over. Then you can survey your handiwork and try to convince yourself that the living room looks a little better. Really, it does.

Tuesday, March 04, 2003

It seems appropriate, given today's holiday, to share some pictures.

Twirl

Witchy

Lady in Red

Bright

Mardi Gras

Wednesday, February 26, 2003

was reading Travesties last night (taking a mental break from Bleak House). It occurred to me to take a line from each of the tracks on the cd to which i was listening at the time, and put them in a random order. I drew the lyrics out of a shoe box and got this:

do you know what it's like to be me?
you make me feel like i am young again
i'm as hot as the engine in a chevrolet
i can prove these shoes are fireproof
you just wanna drive me drive me drive me drive me drive me wild
i cannot stand the way you tease
and will there come a day when nothing is standing in our way?
she had a million dollars in nickels and dimes
to soften her sorrows with nine times a night
the more she stuck the more it bled
hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hello
i can't think of anything that rhymes with organ
if i show you the roses will you follow?
well, they take away my freedom of expression or action
but you don't really care for music, do you?
criticize things you don't know about
i've got a feeling you'll be an asshole the rest of your life
you can all just kiss off into the air
and then my troubles will be o'er
watch out here i come
why do i smile at people who i'd much rather kick in the eye?
i should have changed my fucking lock
and there's no hard feelings and there's no special anger
i don't want the world, i just want your half
this ain't the tv talking to you



I kind of like it.

Wednesday, January 08, 2003

Do you know what it's like to be me? . . . I am an artist. I'm sensitive. I am so fucking sensitive. I care about the things that other people don't have time to deal with. I care about things you've never thought of. I care about things Ghandi didn't give a flying fuck about....I create. I walk the line of abandonment, feel the saber of despair, pierce my guts so my breath when it arrives flows through in bloody sprays of artistic struggle. I turn up the tv so Charles in Charge drowns out my screams of creative torment, so as not to upset the neighbors. Until finally, I emerge from my lair with Art.
And it always sucks.
I'm a failure. I've written poetry; I've sketched; I've worked with clay, ceramics, watercolor; I wrote monologues, novellas, children's stories, limericks; I've produced films, when they fail, video; I've tried my hand at puppet shows, kabuki theater; I sang scat; I choreographed movement pieces; I've tried the guitar, the piano, the harp, the trumpet, the french horn, the alpine horn, the tuba; I auditioned for the Handel choir and was cut.
Failure. Failure. Rejection, rejection, you stink.
Everyone expects me to quit....But they don't get it. I can't quit. I've got a sado-masochistic relationship with my muse. She seduces me, she urges me to come over, to produce, then she whips me to pieces and humiliates me. I try to stop, but when I stop I feel terrible for not producing. I loathe the fact that I can't enjoy what is around me without having to constantly think of doing something. Everyone else is running to the post office, or making their little vacation plans, enjoying a bowl of cereal perhaps, and I am forced to think about my next endeavor.
But without me, there wouldn't be you. Yes. I know you're a writer. I can tell. Just know that you would be nothing without me. Because there is bad art out there for your work to be better than. It's all in comparison, my friend. And if I wasn't so fucking bad, you wouldn't be so fucking good.
You owe me.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my next failure.


-Hugh Brown Shu