I had a counseling meeting today with M's English teacher. Collected M at school and took him to school baseball practice, then ran over grabbed him for Little League baseball game. Snagging a hamburger at his request, coming home to change clothes. We had a very good conversation about his time on the computer, about his "F" in English, my conversation with his teacher and how we can turn this all around. I find these "alone" times in our driving from A to B are our most intimate, heart-felt talks take place.
It occurs to me in all of this running around, this is the last time I will be able to drive him around like this during the week. And my heart aches. I have finaglling ways to have weekdays off so I could be a part of M's life during school and after, at least a couple of days a week for so long, I feel like the great manipulator.
I volunteered in his classes elementary school, back when he wanted me to be there. I remembered breaking down a couple of years ago when they said that I would have to move to a regular shift. Running outside to have a hysterical cry and it hit me hard, I have worked most of M's life away. And it hurt and I cried harder. In that moment, I was hoping he would forgive me later for being so selfish. The only bright spot in my breakdown was that my mom has been here to monitor, drive him, cook dinner every night ... and he did not have to live out his afternoons in day care ... which I did. I hated daycare and never wanted my son to endure that boredom. And D is always there for baseball, trombone lessons and everything in between. I often ask myself, "How do the single moms do it?" There are THREE adults in this house and we are in constant motion keeping up with M's activities.
I have been maneuvering every moment so I could have some time with M and have some time to myself and still have a fulfilling job. Being home on Saturdays and Sundays off is akin to having tickets to a weekend circus ... no quiet time, no time clean house while it is empty, no time to do any artwork. So, this being my last Monday and Tuesday off ... I am having my little pity party ...
My mindset tonight is ... change is always difficult, but it can also be good. That I have a good job and will give it my all, as I have since I started there. And I will have lots of books on tapes to listen to on my long commute home. It's all good. ;)
But it works.
Cleaned out my purse the other night. It took all night sifting through the little bits of paper, folded treasures from magazines, candy wrappers, trash. But I found a page I tore out of H&G ... about Neeta Madahar's Falling series.
Molly has arrived! Amy had delivered another wonderful work of art, the most precious baby girl!
Even though we all cling to the same branch, remember, you are unique. Ok, not exactly an illustration but I so wanted to do something creative this week.
Have been seeking 15 minutes of silence each day.
All things must come to an end and this is my last SPC. I have had so much fun participating and seeing how everyone creatively meets each month's challenge. The weekly exercise has made me grow, be a little more fun (which I have trouble doing), think outside the box ... in short, it has been a blast. I did learn a couple of things. I don't brush my hair often and I am not very photogenic, but those minor details did not preclude me from having my Tuesday in front of the camera ;)
With my schedule changing to 8a-5p, Mon-Fri ... unless I take every photo in my car driving to work, where undoubtedly I will be spending about 3 hours a day ;) ... well, you can see that photo would get monotonous pretty quickly.
Thank you to all the souls keeping SPC interesting, fun, online and a special thank you to Kath.
Trillium starts off white and changes into a dark purple as it fades away.
Jennifer Maestre's pencil sculptures are stunning and she is on etsy. This is one of my favorites. I know I have blogged to long and too much when I keep repeating ... but as I have said before, some talents need to be blogged more than once ;)
The vine maples we have for privacy hedge (of sorts) are dropping these little red berry looking things, but on closer inspection, they were the tiniest little flowers.
Driving to work, early Saturday morning, I spied one cloud unloading its' contents on a lonely peak, way off in the distance. I could clearly see it much better than this photo.
Albert Einstein: "If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe, then (wo)man would only have four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more (wo)man."
Is this yet another indication that we have gone too far?
I will glady give up my cell phone, would you?
Just saw this on the news and I wish I could see it in person. Firefly squid. This is how the light looks in water.
"The tips of their tentacles are equipped with light-producing organs called photophores. The squid uses these lights to attract it prey. By flashing these lights on and off, they can attract small fish and then pounce on them with their powerful tentacles. The firefly squid is also capable of emitting light from its entire body. The squid's body is covered with tiny photophores that can be flashed in unison or alternated in an endless number of hypnotizing patterns. The firefly squid spends its days at depths of about 1200 feet. At night, it comes up to the surface to search for food. During spawning season, they can even come close to shore. They can be seen gathering every year from March to May in Toyama Bay in Japan."
Oh, my gosh, there is a USB Squid, found right here on this Squid site.
Our Creative Director owns an interactive book sculpture by Casey Curran. You can experience their movement by watching the movie clip attached to each piece.
Book sculpture hand chewed by the artist, Douglas Coupland, via Dead Programmers Cafe.
Book sculpture, Galerie Lelong, New York City via Kansas City Public Library.
Alice stars in her own book, by Su Blackwell, Book Cut Sculptures.
Georgia Russell's dissected book under glass. Six Dictionaries, photography by Abelardo Morell, via the most fun FunForever
Yum, 2007 Edible book (where did all the pictures go?), 2006, International Edible Book contest via Colophon. I love "Green Eggs and Ham" seen below.
Map of the world ball by Stefana McClure. Shower hair dairy by Laura Mappin.
Very impressive set of Book and book sculptures by Jade Pegler.
My need one of these Taggers Book
Beautiful images of hand bookbindings and a book bench.
I thought a little book of war poetry to be a timely purchase from the Friends of the Library book sale. I bought several small books for $1.
You are eager and optimistic today, dear Pisces, which works well with your strong and capable nature. You are likely to find that things at work begin to click into place. Something that has been troubling you for some time suddenly becomes clear. What was once a stumbling block is now a mere bump in the road, easily passable. All indications are that you will be successful at whatever you undertake now, so dare to dream big.
I am dreaming big! Going to this sale in a couple of minutes.
Why is blogger eating my jpg's?
It goes without saying, I am looking for to seeing Becoming Jane, a movie about Jane Austin. Something to look forward to for the summer! And 1048. Showing at our local theatre and I really want to see it as well.
Mourning jewelry (page from J'antiques & Collectibles) is such a sentimental and sweet tradition of remembering loved ones gone. I think we allowed more time to mourn in the past, feel our grief and have quiet time to be sorrowful. With the events of the past couple of days, mourning seems to be on my mind.
Braided hair mourning necklace
Photo Jewerly Book
Center for jewerly studies
"Sentimental" jewelry from Candice Hern collections.
Civil War era Beautiful locket
Woven Bracelet from the Virtual Exhibit of Historic Northhampton
Edwardian diamond ring, just had to throw this one in. ;)
"Eternal love", Mourning brooches with hair work and more Morning pins at Things Gone By
Hair picture, dated 1863, "Souvenir of our family, a dedication in hair...." and this wonderful detail. From Mourning Art Museum. There are amazing works of art here, including this Hair Dome, and detail.
In memory of Sarah brooch at Morning Glory Antiques.
The Mourning Sampler and Ivory Garden of Love with locket.
Modern take on an old custom, Joke Dubbeldam' mourning necklace
Mourning Picture Locket at Soul Heirs.
Hair Artist Sandra Johnson, revives the tradition of Victorian hair jewelry in her pieces. Hair for sale, who knew?
I was going to post this last week, but I was embarrassed that it would be a pity-party-illo. But I have not been feeling very good about myself lately. Feeling very disenfranchized, (blank, chicken, debilitated, defenseless, dependent, disabled, disenfranchised, dud, etiolated, feeble, frail, gutless, helpless, impotent, incapable, incapacitated, ineffective, ineffectual, inert, infirm, paralyzed, passive, prostrate, putty, subject, supine, tapped, tapped out, tied, unable, unarmed, unfit, vulnerable, wimp), stressed, and I am wanting to hide. Forthcoming changes in my schedule. Back to 5 days a week, Monday-Friday, 8-5-ish. Add at least 1.5 hours of commute time each way, I am back to 5 - 12 hour days is what that boils down to. I am feeling a little robotic.
But enough about me. Let's talk about about race relations. I am glad Imus got canned. But, Come On, he was a "shock jock" and that was his "job description' for so many years. I think he just shocked the wrong crowd. He has been shocking me for years. But then many of things have been shocking me for years.
My son and I listen to rap. Yes, I love rap. I don't like the lyrics. But I love the beat. And he and I have constant conversations about the lyrics and the meaning and the degradation, for years now. And we both agree the sound rocks, the meaning behind the words, suck. But ... I do believe there is a huge gap in what is acceptable for white's to say and black's can say (to each other). And I can tell you, having conversations with my son brings that front and center. What his friends say at school to each, what they can't say to each other if they are black or white. I am confused about it and I see that they are just as confused.
We have forced fed M PBS specials on World World II, Slavery, race relations. D and I have meaningful conversations about what it means to be American, the bad and to good. We, as a country, have a terrible track record of being fair to any color but white. American Indians, Japanese internment camps, Slavery, Civil Rights, Iraq war. Our egocentrism can be frightening. We live in a big world, full of religions, beliefs, customs, that might not be our own. I experience it more in Seattle, but America is becoming a "melded community" of all sorts of beliefs and religions. I feel richer for it.
Another very disturbing development for the last two years in television advertising is the selling of Erectile Dysfunction (ED)remedies. In the beginning, I would rail against them every time they appeared on the screen. I make it a point now and then to turn the channel. But where is our modesty? Do I care that some 50-something-guy can't keep an erection therefore, I have to listen to these humilating and embarrassing TV commercials. And they seem to be multiplying! I see them more frequently, more vendors selling their little blue pills. All I can say, is: what do our kids get from this juvenile obsession with sex, what does the rest of the world think about our culture when these commercials run every 10 minutes? What did Rome look like right before the fall?
I wanted to thank the very talented Deborah for mentioning me on her post today in concert with Thinking Blogs. I googled The Thinking Blogs to see what it was all about. Gosh, I giggled, because most of the time, I believe my brain is not *thinking* at all. Although, I try to be witty, caring, inspirational. I always just wanted this is be a place for visual inspiration, as Erica was for me. Reading her blog opened me up to all sorts of treats, treasures, her blogger buddies and I was always so thankful every time I logged on and see what treat she had in store for us that day.
Sometimes I have a little mental pity party about my stats, or *the popular* blogs out there, or if someone has posted some great link that I had months ago, theirs resulting in 50 comments, mine 2. But I stop myself. No. 1 reason: I am not good at commenting on others blogs and I know the blog community is all about reciprocity. It is not that I don't love everyone else's blog, I hop around, see and read some and move on. Commenting for me can be difficult. Hence, if I don't comment so often, it isn't that I don't love what I am experiencing, reading, seeing. Blog hopping is acceptable in my estimation. Time is so limited in my life. Time IS my enemy right now. No. 2 reason: I started this blog for me and only for me. I want to keep that perspective. I love that I have bloggers linking to me and me to them. I love that I have a sense of the creative community, that I feel so connected to, so in love with, so ONE with. But at the end of the day, I take my little flower photos, learn html or how to do technical stuff, find some great links ... selfishly, for me. And share it with the rest of the world, or the world that might be reading my blog. ;) And I hope if I keep doing that, I will not lose my love for my daily retreat into cyberspace and photos. Does any of that make sense?
Anyhoo .... I am thinking of "thinking blogs" for this post.
My first has to be my most amazing friend, Rita. She is the funniest, quickest-witted person I know. I have told her plenty of times she should be writing a book, or a column ... but in the meantime she writes and creates for her blog --Fatale Abstraction. Sometimes I spew red wine from my nose laughing so hard at something she has written. I enjoy that, because ... I am not a humourous person. ;)
No *thinking* list would be complete without Liz! Sweet, smart, adorable, honest, honorable, beautiful Liz.
I have been in love with Matt and his photography since I spied him on Flickr when I first joined. His food adventures, his images, his passion for his work, his cute little dogs, his lovely relationship with his partner. Well, one could get a little envious of all talent!
Paula Becker, thinking with pens and paints. Always a treat to see what has popped out from her hand via her (thinking) head.
Maureen at Raven's Nest, I have met her in person, I know she is a thinker and her passions translate nicely to cyberspace.
Sometimes I get weepy just looking at the wonderful photography Susan post on Visual~Voice, not to mention, the girl can write.
There are so many more I could/should/want to add. Okay, I went over my 5 limit, but I wasn't thinking.
Judy sent me these images and email today: Vanuit mijn zit(lig)plaats in huis zie ik de hele dag een voedseltransport. (From my window I can observe a foodtransport all day long.) Spring is everywhere. Thank you, Judy!
I hate it when I am so busy, I can't think. But that is how life has been lately. Wanted to share a couple of things coming to life in the yard ;)
Colorful TP can be fun. I am thinking I could have some of these printed for my bathroom, css training? new word for a day?
The Nose knows it is spring! Go see more visual exploration of the body.
Tara and I spent a perfectly inspiring evening in Ballard attending two art shows. The first at OKOK Gallery viewing Kathleen Lolley's solo show of fanciful creatures, bunnies and owls. I wanted to purchase the little owl in the black frame (shown below) but someone beat me to it.
Walked 3 blocks to my favorite place in Ballard, Curtis Steiner’s Souvenir to have a peek at Kimber Fisher’s lovely book sculptures. I am sorry to report my camera did not capture ONE of her pieces. Kimber Fisher does not have a website, so you will have to take my word that her small, delicate, distressed books filled with porcupine quills, broken eggs, tiny twigs, thorns, nails, nest, words ... were perfection. And of course, just stepping into Souvenir fills my heart with joy. Then off for food and wine.
I finally uploaded some of my photos to JPG Magazine.
I always think about Liz's post about 5 senses, think about them driving to work and back. This is my attempt to do one.
smell | Yesterday, I ventured outside to escape the glow of my computer screen. It was raining, real rain that you could smell and see plopping into big concentric circles on the payment. The air smelled of sweet earth. Sounds silly I know, but as a 16-year Seattleite, I don’t get to smell rain very often. Here rain is defined as low grey skies, slick payment and a mist in the air by no visible signs of raindrops falling.
hear | Last Saturday while catching some air, watching birds frolic in blossoming trees on a quiet work campus. I sat for a moment and listened to Paper Birch trees. The unraveling exterior making a soft, pleasing music in the wind.
taste | Mom made a ½ cabbage of cole slaw with gorgonzola cheese. It was so tasty; I ate the entire bowl.
touch | M and I were walking through a store the other day. He is so much taller than me now but when I see him, I swear I still see the “little guy”. I forced him to hold my hand like we use to do (just for a minute or so). It felt really good to feel his hand in mine, even if it is much larger now.
see | Massive pink Clematis blossoms blooming right in my backyard!
This is why I only sunbathe in the privacy of my backyard. Please, Courtney, do us a huge favor and do the same.
Why is it so hard to get rid of your stuff? I am packing up my winter clothes into plastic boxes and unpacking linens and cottens for summer from another plastic box. Some of the winter wear, I never even wore. Example: a polar fleece sweat suit that I once wore daily (even slept in a few times) in previous winters (pre-menopause) that make me gagged just to look at it. I literally get hot-flashes just seeing it on the shelf. But this is the stupid shit I think when I look gaze upon and think about it belonging to my wardrobe: "what if the winters get so bad in the future, so cold, we will have not heat and I would kill to have that hot, grey, triple-ply polar fleece pant suit?" (I also buy every wool blanket I see at the thrift store with just that thought in mind). This is the sick stuff that goes through my head.
I relinquished all of my Jones New York trousers a few years after M's birth. Realistically, I knew I would never be a size 10 again. And the shoes, I gave away all of my size 7's in exchange for size 9 Dexter slip-ons and plastic gardening shoes. I have to admit, I kept my favorite pair of trousers. A brown, houndstooth patterned, trousers with pockets and just the perfect wide leg -- they remind me of something Katharine Hepburn would have worn in her hey-day. They are stashed away in a box under the stairs, sharing a living space with 10 spiders, along with some of D's favorite jackets. They were the perfect pair of trousers. I felt like a million dollars when I wore them. I had the perfect shirt to match. And I wanted noone else to own them sans me.
I have T-shirts from when 20 years ago. I tell myself they are treasures from the past, keepers, reminders of where I have been, where I worked, who I was. But I never wear them. I have ski boots and ski clothes and if I don't lose weight and get my knees back, I will never ski again. So why does that stuff take up most of my closet?
I also have problems with trashing stuff off my computer. Throwing away magazines. Giving away anything that might have a longer shelf-life. But my clothes dilemma is really starting me to think. I must get rid of my treasures. The standard question "Have you worn it in the last year?" I asked myself that every year while I am packing and repacking. Go figure.
Vicci has a great idea, A Photo Challenge, to find an old photo (at least 20 years old) and tell about it. I am up for the challenge ;) after I finish my weekend of working ;). Go look at her great photos!
Today is Yellow! If you are shooting along with Handmaid's week in color. These are tiny blossom from a Hedge Maple tree, the tree also has wonderful winged seed pods.
