Wednesday, March 31, 2010
My friend Paige Greene writes a blog that makes me want to change my life. She takes photos that make me wish I'd stuck with photography back in the day and become even a fraction as good as she is. She educates me with information that makes me feel like I could move to a farm, grow my own food, and have some chickens running alongside my new doggie. She shows me how the world could actually be a better place, if we all just did the right thing.
Her most recent venture is documenting Fibershed. For anyone that believes in a cause, or loves natural fibers, or is a major textile lover, this one's for you.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I bought a box of Girl Scout cookies the other day and, for the first time, really looked at the photos on the box: It occured to me, as I was putting my-idea-of-a-perfect-cookie in my mouth, that the photo reflected exactly how I felt when I realized one day I was gonna grow up and be able to buy as many boxes of Thin Mints as I wanted. And wouldn't have to share them with anyone.
Monday, March 29, 2010
There's been the ever persistent ear-ache: the silent and invisible, continual "oooouuuchh" every time you make eye contact with one of them. Then there's your seemingly every day stomach-ache, but this one seems to always be accompanied by a sore throat. Unusual, but thats when we know it's really hit. Who has a stomach-ache with a sore throat attached? This group of walking contagious viruses does!
While I'm constantly covering my food as we eat lunch side by side and they're telling me the latest knock-knock joke (interrupting cow..., boo hoo who?..., orange-ya glad I didn't say banana?...), spittle flying, landing on my salami sandwich, they seem totally oblivious. Part of it might have to do with our year-long study of bacteria or "germs", as they used to refer to them: They've learned the difference between bad bacteria and good bacteria. So the talking over your food doesn't seem to faze them in the least: they figure if they feel fine, they're only flinging out the good stuff.
The kids learned the names and the results of 20+ different bacteria this year. So, when tiny, little, soft-spoken, 6-year-old A. went to the doctor, covered in spots, the exchange went something like this...
Doc: A. , don't be afraid, but you appear to have impetigo.
A: Oh, like impetigo staphylococcus?!
But, of course.
Her mom regaled us all with the tale the next day.
Even when they're at their lowest moments, their brilliance for resilience shines through. Picture this: I've got one hand on O.'s forehead and one holding a bucket under his chin, as we run through the halls, racing towards an available toilet stall. I'm petrified of the puke landing in my face or on my clothes, and he's just yellow, running along side of me.
We make it just in time. Well, almost in time. Close enough for most of to land in the bowl. I end up cleaning the rest of it up (and everyone asks why I didn't have the janitor do it? I don't know. I like our janitor and it seemed as much my duty as his). Poor O. was crying a little and saying he feels like he's always sick! It always happens to him! Finally, when all things had been expended, and I kept my own reactive-retching under control, I was still holding one hand on O's forehead when he groaned to me,
O: miss molly? miss molly? can you believe how I have so many inventions in my head all the time?
...and away he went. The worst of the puking behind him, dreams of bigger things in front of him, he continued on with the details and the catch-22's of his latest invention, while I listened and nodded in agreement with his grandiose ideas.
A new theory, perhaps?
From sickness comes genuius.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
I don't know where to begin. I'm not even quite sure what happened.
Though, one version goes like this:
It was a Saturday.
RK was out on a huge bike ride. I planned on sitting at the computer and working all day.
I walked out of the apartment to get toilet paper at walgreens.
I came home with a dog.
And not just any dog. The most gorgeous little girl dog I've ever seen. I have never, in my life, felt this way about a little furry creature.
Yes, yes, I like animals--though many of my friends think I'm slightly cold or distant when it comes to their animals, or I don't like their cats... I DO, honestly. I like them.
But this? THIS is love. It's crazy. I feel a little crazy.
When I picked her up from the little open cage that held her and a few other rescued dogs, waiting to be adopted, I held her to my chest and she melted into me. Tears started streaming down my face and I couldn't talk. It was a completely surreal moment as the people around began turning towards me asking if this was my dog? was i adopting? had anyone ever seen a dog relax into someone like that? hey, thats magic! wow! what you two have is something! ohmygod, did someone just fall in love? wow, look at you two together! It felt amazing, but what I said outloud was, "oh, I don't know. I just came out to get some toilet paper, really, but...but....yet...I can't seem to put her down" ohno, don't put her down! they all cried in unison (it seemed) that's your dog! take her home! that doesn't often happen like that (or) that's what happened to me and my dog, that's just how it happened, we fell in love.
It was clear, I was going home with this dog.
The moment I walked away from that corner, with this little, innocent, soft-furred being, I immediately suffered mom-fear: What if she cuts her paw on a piece of glass? What if another dog bites her? What if she gets hit by a car? Ohmygod, she's gonna die one of these days. I don't want to loose her! I went through it all. Then, I got home, put her on my lap and waited.
For the next 5 hours, she slept, I stroked her gorgeous coat, I stared at her and I thought about what I was going to tell RK when he got home*.
Another version is that I was ready to fall in love. I was ready to make another commitment in my life. Thank you to anon, for sending me that Ferris video clip, it made me sit up just a little bit more and look around a little bit more clearly. The fact is, I inked messages on my forearms for this very reason: I want to be here now and be able to let go at the very same time. Stella Marie, this innocent, soft-furred being, is forcing me to do this.
*I needn't have spent much time thinking about what to say to RK. He walked in the door, took one look at her and that's all she wrote.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tori Higa recently wrote to me asking me to be part of Today's Top Stationary Artists 2!
And I'm over the moon about it! I'm sending out my package of cards today, with answers to a little interview, as well.
I always find it a little strange to talk about myself and my art work, but being asked to be under the umbrella title of "today's top" anything helped me get the good vibes going.
The book is slated for January 2011-- which sounds far away, but when things in your life are scheduled right up thru summer, it truly feels right around the corner!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
I rarely let myself make something unless I'm pretty damn sure I'm gonna love it. Or, at least, some aspect of it. Though, I know I fall in love with a lot of my first drafts that don't always translate as lovingly to everyone else. But, lately, I've sorta felt like it's time to let it all go and make whatever comes to my brain. There's gotta be some redeeming value in the 'practice' of art.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
There's such a beauty in mold. I don't appreciate it much in the shower, or behind the kitchen sink, but in cheese, I find it to be spectacular.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
I'm thinking about buying myself some birthday gifts for the big one coming up in April... and here's where I will start:
Friday, March 12, 2010
I really never learned the whole key-word-search-concept on the internets! I'm a terrible finder when I want something, which is frustrating, but often, I end up fumbling into something much, much better than what I went looking for...
Case in point: Brooke Shaden. Every image more intense than the next. Every title a perfect question.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I'm looking forward to a whole lot more beautiful chaos in my very near future...
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Or, maybe I just wish I was this confident and cool...
can i help it if i laugh at her posts like i'm reading my own thoughts? minus all the true-fashion-awareness and the friends in high places, but with the same kind of weird-for-your-age-ideas and classic teenage speak. When I was 13, I wore collar shirts buttoned-up to the top button, wore my hair very short and had crushes on Anthony Perkins, Jack Nicholson and Jimmy Stewart. I watched re-uns of M*A*S*H and The Monkeys and wrote to my favorite authors in my free time....
She's 13! She's going to runway shows! She's writing a blog! She's creating a fashion movement!
Yeah, okay, so I was roller skating in the driveway wearing my dolphin shorts and a hand-me-down love is... sweatshirt, waiting for Allen Funt to show up and discover me.
I wasn't exactly Tavi.
But a grown-woman (who still feels about 13) can dream, can't she?
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The winter seemed long. Every day, waking up to the dark. It didn't seem right.
I would drag myself out from under the covers. I would shlump all the way to the loo, barely able to turn on the shower. Those dark days almost made me want to cry.
Now that they're gone, they seemed to last only a short time. I barely remember the pain they brought. The memory just lives in the back of my brain....the dark part, where the sun doesn't shine.