Illustration Fridays Parade

I should have posted this last week. I should actually post on occasion. I'm not even linking to IF yet. I'm a week behind.

And on a personal note, I'm close to crisis again. Plagued with doubt and wandering through a fog. What am I going to do with my life? I still don't know.

So anyway the word of the week was Parade.

And this is what I came up with. In my mind it was a drink parade. That little baby shot glass amuses me to no end. Maybe I should cut back on the drinking.

By the way...

By the way, have you ever noticed that people make the most shocking revelation with the casual introduction of by the way...

By the way… my sister is engaged. We are all very happy for her. And the fiancé is a doll. Not literally, he’s just a really nice guy. They will marry next year.

By the way, I’m writing a comic book. 32 pages of story and illustration. It’s the largest project I’ve ever attempted. I don’t even read comic books so this might not be a good idea. Sometimes the best ideas are the really dumb ones, that on further inspection are in fact great. I’m crossing my fingers on this one. I’ve spent two weeks making four pages, if this is going to work I’ll have to speed up. It’s a simple story about me. And what would happen if I found my dream job. Always a literal sort I decided that job would be making dreams. What else would my dream job be? I’m scared to death of doing this. I’m afraid my style sucks, my story and writing is week, my drawing is stumpy and my commitment is phobic. But I’ve decided to go ahead and push past all of that and pretend I know what I’m doing and make this happen. And maybe this will be the start of something very big. At worst I’ll have a very expensive art book that I can self publish.

By the way I’m in love. Don’t get too excited. I’m in love with someone’s writing. I find it ridiculously charming. And I’m just a little madly in love with it. His name, the one whose writing I love, is Patrick Rothfuss. I even have a story of how we met. The book and I, that is.

I was standing in the Fantasy section or Border’s picking up a book for my 14 year old cousin. Unfortunately someone was standing in front of the bookshelf I needed to peruse. I wasn’t in a hurry so I pick up some Ray Bradbury. I never know if he’s dead or alive still, and it bothers me a little that I don’t know. Just as I was about revisit a story… a small nerdy man appeared out of nowhere. He was an employee. He asked me if I needed help finding anything, which I didn’t, what I need to do was kill time while that guy hogged the bookshelf I needed. I told him I was just looking, and he offered to make a recommendation.

Now I don’t know if that is something they do at Borders. If it’s something handed down from corporate, and he has to meet a recommendation quota or something. But it struck me as fairly amusing that a perfect stranger was going to recommend a book to me, knowing nothing about me and having found me a aisle I haven’t visited since high school. So I told him sure, go for it.

He asked me what authors I liked and I shook my head with a smile. “Uh uh, if you have a recommendation, then make it… I’m not going to tell you anything else. I want to see what you recommend. You offered.”
To be fair, he was game, he stared at me for a second, bit his lip, smirked, said Patrick Rothfuss and walked me over to his book THE NAME OF THE WIND.

When he picked it up I was filled with dread. The cover was pretty hardcore fantasy. And when I turned it over… sigh. I didn’t know how to pronounce the main character’s name. It took me back to another time, in my life when I read fantasy, before I changed my mind about all of that. Unpronounceable names having been a particular pet peeve. And then he began describing the novel.

It is one of a trilogy, it’s hard core fantasy, it’s a whole world with rules and structure, it’s about a boy who goes to magic school, like Harry Potter but hard core,… and he went on and on.

I stood there numbly, politely nodding, each sentence he spoke invited more dread. It’s a trilogy, am I going to feel obligated to read two more books? Hard core, do I look like a hard core fantasy girl? Each point I took as a negative.

I noticed the bookshelf was free, and I grabbed the other book I needed. The employee smiled and asked me what I thought. I pursed my lips, nodded my head and forced myself to smile. Sounds great!

Great!

He walked with me to the cashier telling me how he knew I was going to love this book, how it had won fantasy prizes, and was a critic’s darling! His first novel too! My stomach turned as I go to the registers and realized I couldn’t drop the book anywhere. The plastic smile again, Thanks! My voice sing-songed up and down, tell tale sign I was lying. I certainly wasn’t thankful.

And I bought it. I couldn’t ditch the book gracefully, so I bought it. Since I had it I thought I’d better read it.

I re-read the back cover, which upon re-reading suddenly seamed charming, boastful, and confident. With an open heart I sat down on the train and began to read. It was like coming home. to an old friend, or an old lover, or the one that got away. It was an embrace, a caress, whisper of what you always wanted to hear. It was in fact everything the guy in bookstore had told me. It was hardcore fantasy, in the best sense, it was a complete universe that you bought into without inconsistency or over explanation, there were rules and laws that made sense, the main character went to school like Harry Potter, but in a different world, a different character, a more exciting world.

I can’t tell you what makes this book so special. I wish I could. I would write love letters to this book. I’m infatuated, I giggle like a schoolgirl, I eagerly await the next two novels. And I check often for hints of when they will be available. I’m in love.

Wedding Bells are Ringing

That's right folks it more invitations, with one repeat invitation. It's a beach BBQ wedding down the cape.

Dana,

Here are your wedding invitations ideas:

I always vote for the eliphant! But I'm a little extra in love with the circus theme!

me me me me me me

O1. Make a list of 5 things you can see:

Orange Mug, rainbow gloves, panoramic picture of John, Liz, Beth and John, gumdrops, yerba mate tea bag

O2. Would you ever get plastic surgery?

I won’t say never, but I will say these boobs aren’t getting bigger anyway but the natural way.

O3. Do you keep your hands on your keyboard when you watch porn?

Hmm… I don’t watch porn on the computer on purpose. The occasional click has led me astray but my hand was on the mouse to click it away. But if I were to watch porn on the computer, I would think the idea would be to let your hands roam where you want. If you know what I mean.

O4. What's your occupation?

Artist, I freelance as an admin.

O5. Do you nap a lot?
Not really, I like to sleep through the night

O6. What was your first car?

I’ve never had a car.

O7. What's your current fandom/obsession/addiction?

I loved Man on Wire. But my obsession is Improv right now.

O8. What was the last thing you ate today?

Gumdrops (that’s right the same ones on the desk!)

O9. What was the last text message you received?

From John: Haha. Yeah I wasn't exactly in the best mood after that last horrible run that I had.
(we were talking about skiing)

1O. What websites do you always visit when you go online?

Google, Yahoo, Gmail, IMDB,

11. What was the last thing you bought?

Juice to wash down lunch

12. What are you listening to right now?
the hum of the HVAC

13. If you could pick another name for you, what would it be?

Zelda Zap

14. What is your zodiac sign?Taurus (Bah! Boring!)

15. What is your favorite weather, and why?

Summer 80-85 degrees with humidity, and a nice wafting breeze, the kind that caresses you, the kind of weather that when you go swimming you come out of the water and aren't shivering, just pleasantly cooled. It's sultry weather.

16. If you could play any musical instrument, which one would you play?

Piano. I think it’s way to hard to learn but so amazingly cool to know.

17. Do you have any siblings?

Older brother, younger sister.

18. What's something you'd like to say to someone right now?

Hadley my darling, could you tell me the clothing sizes of you’re two children?

19. What are your plans for next weekend?

Ski Saturday, Improv Sunday, Arwyn & Gideon’s B-day to follow.

2O. Say something to the person who tagged you:
Hadley! I wish you could have come skiing with us. It was so much fun!

Associate this!

Random association meme. Ask me to associate you with five things. When I do this, post this meme and an explanation of your interest in those five things in your journal.l

Hadley associated me with these:



1) First snow (also) - Once upon a time it was the first snow of the season and Hadley and I skipped class and went to Harvard Square to enjoy the snow. We wondered around this blissful euphoria caught up in the wonder of the first snow. It’s was that romantic stage of a friendship where every revelation is marvelous. While the rest of New England grumbled that winter was here too soon, we were spinning and laughing and gaping in awe at the most beautiful perfect fluffy snow! Every year since then I think of Hadley during the first snow and know that somewhere she’s thinking of me.

2) Origami - I am an origami junky. The harder the better. I love a challenge. I love that you can make something 3 dimensional out of something 2 dimensional. I only actually remember how to make a few different origami objects, but I love origami books. I once made 1000 paper cranes. It took me 15 days. I spent the next 8 weeks stringing them with beads into an enormous 7 foot tall jelly fish. It was long, tedious work, and I took it everywhere with me and worked on it with every spare moment of time I had.

3) Kick ass women – I was born of a kick ass woman, my sister is a kick ass woman, my female friends are kick ass women. I’m a roaring feminist and very vocal about it. Barbara Boxer; the senator from California is a serious kick ass woman! She’s my political hero, and the senator who’s politics line up closest to my own. She one of the handful who voted against the war. I think women have come along way, but sexism is rampant. I think it was best said of Ginger Rogers “she did everything Fred Astaire did, only backwards and in high heels”. In so many ways woman have to be so much more kick ass than men, just to be heard. I love kick ass women, and my mom raised me to be one!

4) Chinese pastries – I am a Chinese Pastry junkie. My friend Amy Chee once brought Chinese pastries to my office and I was in love. I love the custard buns, coconut buns, pork buns, sponge cakes, rice balls, and those gluttonous fired rice balls that they have at Eldo Cake House once in a blue moon. They are filled with chopped up pork and shrimp and cabbage and mushroom. There’s something slightly I don’t want to say rancid… but definitely pungent about them that sets my mouth watering. In Chinatown you can get a huge box of pastries for $10. I had never thought about Chinese pastries before Amy Chee brought them in. But I’ve loved them since. And I bring them to Hadley’s all the time.

5) Creativity – I don’t think of myself as actually terribly creative. But it’s something I strive for. I make things, I guess I create things. But I’m greedy, I always want to make more. I want to quit my job and sit around making things for a year and see what happens. I’m a jack of all trades, master of none. I can’t commit because I want to be able to do everything. I took tons of extra classes at MassArt, Bookbinding, Jewelry making, Wheelworking, Printmaking… and I would take a thousand more. Just so if I needed to I could make that sculpture with the bound pages, the metal studs, and the thrown base. I am currently infatuated with improv… and that’s a blank stage that you make up everything that’s about to happen. So creativity’s a drug that I can’t get enough of, that each time you take a hit it’s harder to get that high, and work and friendships tend to suffer from it. Can’t be an artist without it. I keep reminding myself that I am an artist.

Spooky

This was my google horoscope today:

These past years have forced you to do some very deep self-analysis. A slow and powerful transformation is underway now that will force you to become more serious about your life's purpose. There's no need to consider any immediate changes in your overall path, but don't try to escape the inevitable. A shift in your long-term goals may be unavoidable, yet it should be a major improvement if you take it slowly and deliberately.

It tends to be spooky accurate. Considering my post late late night.

Landslide

I’ve had something happen today that is cause a sort of crisis of faith.

Without a religion you might wonder what this faith is.

I’m afraid the crisis is faith is my faith in me.

I had a disappointment in a job I applied for. Really it wasn’t a great job. It was just better than I had ever had. And the letter came form someone I knew from my days at MassArt and the humiliation was complete. Failure crashed around me in waves and suddenly I was drowning.

I’ve always been a drift without a plan, without a map, without that visualization of what to do. I still don’t have that.

As believer that pop culture holds the wisdom of the ages… I think Stevie Nicks had it right with her own landslide.

Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life

It just hit me hard.

So it’s like they say in improv. I’ve got to commit. I’ve got to fully commit and believe in my character, in this case me. There’s no room for hesitation. There is no room for doubt. The audience will knowif there is.

Improv too has cause a ripple in my faith. It started as easy, I was confident, but now I doubt. I struggle. I’m afraid. But I think this, I can get over.

I just have to remember to commit, go slower, give my partner a name, know something about my character and explore, if this is true what else it true. If I can remember this I’m golden. If I can apply this to my life? I’ll make it.

Tina Fey isn’t sexist. And neither were the people who wrote that skit.

Tina Fey isn’t sexist. And neither were the people who wrote that skit.

But you might have an argument that they are leftist.

There is a tempest in a teacup about the supposedly sexist skit on SNL last Saturday. While being brilliant and insightful, well timed and well played… I find it odd that anyone would argue sexism.

From me? The woman who agreed that Obama was sexist to use the pig in lipstick statement? Which believe me, has my mother furious with me. She’s a party girl, a democratic party girl, and come election time she tends to line up with the party. I tend to get angry with them and threaten not to vote for them, and on occasion don’t vote for them. I don’t like the party line. And I hate that assume they can just have my vote because I fit their demographic. Earn it people!

I digress.

And for all the arguments people have about why this skit isn’t sexist… mostly stating it’s a parody or it’s so dead on that it true.

I think the more obvious and telling sign that it’s not sexist is… and the people calling sexist agree with this point… it portrays Hillary as a woman of substance. Sexism in the context doesn’t work if you aren’t arguing the portrayal of both women. If you were saying that both women where treated disrespectfully, or as insubstantial, had there been a man in the skit and he was the voice of reason… etc., that would be sexist.

But because the skit leans to flattering to Hillary Clinton, and dismissing Sarah Palin… it’s not sexist, it’s just humor. It’s just parody, and it reflects the media’s portrayal of the two politicians. Sure SNL leans liberal, you could certainly argue that. Most of the time you could even arguer sexism. But not in this skit. Sexism would have to apply to both parties. SNL can pick on a woman without it being sexist, especially if there is another woman in the skit to compare her too.

So why is this bothering me so much?

It’s crying wolf.

It’s a public media frenzy of crying wolf. You can’t cry wolf, without there being a wolf because when the wolf comes no one takes you seriously. And sexism is a serious problem.

It was a hilarious skit. Tina Fey was dead on as Sarah Palin, and Amy Poehler is a great Hillary Clinton, I loved the bitterness with the big smile! That’s my girl.

DNC HRC & BHO

Hillary Clinton spoke to her loyal supporters yesterday at the DNC as she urged them to vote for Barack Obama. It was a passionate dynamic speech, it played to her strengths, it showed her as a candidate for the future. It reminded me of why I wanted her to win in the first place.

She knows that we’re out here. A group of angry people, mostly women, who still feel the sting of her defeat. We still believe she was the better candidate, we don’t care for Barack Obama. If he loses, they’ll blame us, like they blamed the folks who voted for Nader in 2000.

Hillary asked if we were in this campaign just for her?

No Hillary I wasn’t in this campaign just for you. I was in it for me. I was in it for all of the women who walk that impossible line trying to be strong, but feminine, tough, but likable, loud, but not shrill, the virgin but the whore, the whore but the vigin. I was in it because I saw someone attempting something so big… something I’d stopped believing could happen. And it didn’t happen. But it was so close.

And I watched misogyny rear its ugly head and roar. It wasn’t just men, it was women too. Women! How does society fill us with such self loathing? How many times have a heard women say they don’t like working for a female boss? Or other women? Or that they only have male friends? That women can’t be trusted or are catty?

I voted for Nader in 2000…. Don’t tell me I lost Gore the election, a) I’m in MA and he got all of our electoral votes, b) the election was stolen, the votes were not even recounted in Florida! And c) Gore could have had my vote if he had earned it.

And that’s the crux of it. Omaba can have all of our votes if he earns them.

Hey, Kool Thing, come here, sit down beside me
there's something I gotta ask you.
I just wanna know, what are you gonna do for me?
I mean, are you gonna liberate us girls
from male white corporate oppression?

So sweetie, you want Hillary to make amends and sweep her supporters over to you… because we are bitter and hurt by the way the election turned out… so we, like her are supposed to concede to you and just give you our votes and what… be happy about it? Because we lost we don’t a voice? No, I don’t think so. The party has always trusted that women would just get in line and do what’s right. Always vote for the lesser of two evils. Where does that leave us? Where is our voice in that?

How about instead, you reach out to us and earn our votes. Instead of being insulted that we preferred a different candidate, show us why we should want to vote for you. I promise to keep an open mind about you… what are you going to promise me?

Maybe its a mans world, but we live here too, we out number you and you’re going to have to recognize us if you want to earn our votes. Okay sweetie?

Good luck.

And Hillary, you make me proud.

Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebrities - Collage - Morph

Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebrities - Collage - Morph

Invisible

I wrote his about 2 years ago... It was about coming to work in my office. Where everyone ignored me for months. Seriously no one would talk to me. It brought me right back to being a kid again. I felt that same overwhelming frustration as I struggled to break into their little society and form a few connections. So the poem ended up being a quarter about my office and three quarters about that feeling I had in high school. Feeling small, and angry, but desperately trying to break in because really whether you liked it or not, you had to deal with these people five days a week.

Oh the office sees me now... and they may not like what they see. But they see me. I feel much better about that.

The Invisible Girl

The invisible girl with the visible peers
cries all alone with invisible tears.
She hasn’t a place were anyone sees
her invisible life, her invisible pleas.

The invisible smile… does it light up her face?
The invisible frown … does it fill her with hate?
Can’t they see that she’s there?
Pulls invisible hair,
an invisibly frustrated state.

She still goes to work
with those visible jerks,
And after she leaves is she visibly free
For the people they see her again.
Oh, when will she leave this invisibly scene?
And start looking for life round the bend.

Improbable…

So I’ve been taking this improv class… and it’s been really fun. It’s goofy and can be clever. I’m not terribly good, but I can hold my own in my level 1 class. I’m not shy, and I just spit things out, even if it’s crap. And that’s a big part of it.

After or first set of classes ended our teacher Bobby told us we should all audition for the Boston Improv troupe. It would be a good experience and who knows maybe one of us would get in. I knew that none of us would get it but somehow I didn’t really know that. Some how we all deluded ourselves a bit.

I had an audition on Monday at 8:30 and my classmate Nancy had one at 9:00. So we agreed to meet for coffee before hand. It turns out she was able to move her audition to 8:30. Which was great because I figured if we went in together whatever happened would be less painful and would happen to us equally.

So we get there and fill out our paperwork, which was super easy for me, because I have done no theater ever. So I literally filled out my name and address and that was it.

We get into the theater with 8 other people and immediately we realized we were out matched. We hadn’t a prayer and all we could do was hold on for the ride.

We did two warm up exercises, which we had never done before. I screwed up on the rhythm one, but was okay. I just used the wrong hands and feet sometimes. But knowing what a panic those games throw me into, that was great for me.

Then we had ten minutes of scene work. And these people were great with strong characters, immediate connections, imaginative ideas. And we simply didn’t have the skill set to compete. We haven’t learned characters yet. We don’t’ know all of the rules of engagement. So immediately recognizing that we were out matched it was hard to get out there and take a stab at it. I got out there twice and didn’t do great but I did my best and I got out there. Poor Nancy got dragged out. She didn’t manage to get out on her own.

But part of the idea of the audition was to show the judges improvement next year if we audition again. I think more importantly is we got to see our own level compared to other leverl and it was enlightening. But it was cool too. It was terrifying, and getting out there seeing how hopeless it was but doing the best I could anyway. I was proud of myself. In the end I guess I did it for me. And so it was a good experience.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Dear Dad,

Wow, I can’t believe it’s been another year already. I feel like I was just writing this letter. I guess time flies when you’re having fun. Yeah, I have been having fun. Over the last year I took up golf and skiing… and of course yoga. As Beth says, she took up yoga, I joined the cult of yoga. But it’s been so good for me.

I can palm the ground, and do a handstand. You wouldn’t believe how empowering that is, to do a handstand. It makes me feel like a superhero, to be able to lift my own weight on my hands. And my hamstrings have loosened, I mean really loosened. They were so tight when I started yoga. Now I just need to open my hips.

Chardie tried Bikrams yoga with us last summer. He did great. It’s a grueling class, with 105 degree heat, and 90 minutes of asanas and breathing exercises. It’s sometimes calld McYoga. I’m not a big fan of Bikrams, I’m into Iyengar right now. Very snooty. But great really, it focuses on the technical side, alignment, not hurting yourself. We practice Ahimsa – nonviolence to our bodies.

And golf has been fun too. Surprisingly really. I don’t think I’ll ever be any good. But I really got a chance to get out there and enjoy myself. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to golf with you. I heard numerous times that you were terrible! But a great sport and fun golfer. I aim to be the same. It’s hard for me not to stress and get competitive. But I’m trying.

And skiing… well that’s just terrifying. I can’t even begin to express my fear of skiing. Beth was a great teacher though. She really brought me through the basics. And held my hand when I needed it. And I’m still terrified of skiing. But I’m a little closer to being there. I think in 3 or 4 years I might be okay. It’s good to have long term goals. I might even buy skis. Those shorter skis are pretty cool. I want a pair of Roxy Pixie Sticks! I want mom to take it up. I think she’d really like it.

Beth and I also took up Improv. You’d love doing that. It’s right up your alley, quick word play, witty banter, absurdity… It’s been great, we have an inclination to that kind of thing I think. Can you image we both have to go to an Improv audition next week? The idea is to join the improve troupe but we’ve only had one set of classes, so I can’t imagine how hard this is going to be. It scares the living daylights out of me, so naturally I have to do it. I can’t wait for that to be over. Our teacher wanted us all to do it though, just to practice, so maybe next year if we audition again, the judges will see how much we’ve improved. Yikes though. It’s very scary.

In other news, my job is sliding out from under me, Hillary lost the nomination, my art suffers from neglect, and socially I’m somewhat stagnant.

That Hillary business really hurts though. I know you couldn’t understand, because you’re a man and men can’t really be feminists. I mean they can try but so much of it just flies over their heads, they don’t notice how ingrained it is, in our culture and language. The campaign was vicious. Hillary held her head up and kept a smile up no matter what they threw at her. And in the end it was no use. Had Florida and Michigan been allowed to vote, it might have swung momentum. Had we got rid of the caucuses and only had primaries (you know with secret ballots, which I think is a pretty important thing, the secret ballot) things would have been different. Hell if we were like republicans and had winner take all contests, things would have been different. Hillary would have taken all, she won the big states. She won he swing states. She won the bell weather states. She won every state you are supposed to win the nomination. But still she lost. People hate her. They call her ‘that woman’. They hold her husband’s crimes against her. She went up against an unbelievable double standard. She was too hard, too soft, a bitch, a war monger, she played the gender card, she emasculated men, she was shrill, she cackled, she wore pants suits, and showed cleavage, she cried (she didn’t actually cry she misted up once). She made mistakes. She became my hero. She’s no Babs Boxer, but she’s is one tough woman.

Obama won, so I guess that a victory for the man. He preaches a message of hope. No woman could get away with preaching a message of hope. They’d call her a flake; she’d be torn to shreds. But Obama can, he’s a rock star.

Celtics are in the finals. It’s been a long time, and the city is lit with the excitement. They took game one. I even watched.

And the Olympics are almost here… The Greek Festival is happening this weekend. I can’t wait to go. I love the Greek Festival. Jimmie Johns passed away this year. That was sad, Beth and I paid our respects to Stevie and the Johns family.

And three of your nephews and nieces are getting married this year. Steve and Lindsay had a beautiful wedding. Emily Hogan is getting married this July, her shower is actually Sunday, but Beth and I will be auditioning for a play that day or, several small 10 minute plays. Based on Norman Rockwell’s art. It should be fun.

Chris Shomphe is getting married in September and I’m doing his wedding invitations. He asked me to, which was strange but flattering. Apparently he thinks of me as an artist. Would that I thought of myself that way! The invitations are coming along. We’ll see how they turn out in the end.

I’ve picked up some acrylic paint and started painting (for real). Funny though, no matter how many times I jump media, I’m still stuck with my work, and my style. It’s like I’m being held prisoner by it. Why this would surprise me…

It’s almost father’s day. Because I loved you so much… sometimes I give Chardie advice about his daughters. Once I gave him a fathers day card the read "you're so much like a father to me, I even roll my eyes when you start to talk" But sometimes I tell him about the things you did that I loved. I tell him, buy the girls jewelry every once and a while. I remember you once offered to by me a silver claddagh ring. I didn’t want it. It wasn’t you, it was school, I was in 8th grade, and a claddagh ring was a hassle. It was status. It marked you as Irish, and told your status, do you have a boyfriend? I couldn’t bear the thought one even from my father. It was pressure.

But now I wish I had let you. I wish I had jewelry from you. I tell him when he goes to weddings dance with his daughters while they are still young. They’ll remember it at their weddings.

Well Dad, it’s been a dozen years now. I miss you. I love you. I think of you often. I remember this one day, it was just a little thing… You dropped me off at my dorm, and gave me a hug, and kissed my cheek. You hadn’t shaved that day, and I could feel the stubble against my neck. Sometimes I can still feel that embrace. I remember that vividly. My dad.

I love you dad.

Kate

Summer's begining and ending....

I wrote this a long time ago, maybe 10 or 12 years, I found it while going through some stuff, and it struck my fancy. And I thought I’d post it. It didn’t have a title. But I suppose it would be called Summer’s End. I remember there were specific references to friends when I wrote this, but I don’t exactly remember whom each verse was about. And yes every poem I’ve ever written rhymes. I understand that poetry doesn’t have to rhyme, but I never remember poems without rhymes, and I rather enjoy the sound of them. Beth laughs at me when I deny that I like poetry. She’s right and wrong of course. I don’t as a rule like poetry, but I occasionally write some. And I’m not kidding about that rhyming thing.

It’s over now, the summer’s done,
Ours laughs were laughed our races won.
The plans we made have come undone,
But while they lasted they were fun.

There were those who took the chance,
Who rode the rides, and danced the dance,
They saw the dancing, knew the steps,
Knew the rhythm, jumped and leapt.

There were some the night embraced,
With lovers caress and fevered tastes.
They disappeared in inky night,
In pairs to find their own delights.

Others were in search of sun,
To bask in warmth and waves of fun.
Goals were made and often broken,
Abandoned for amusement tokens.

They had dreamt the summer away,
Always hoping it would stay,
A little longer, a little more,
Never dreaming it would bore,
Their senses or their delight,
With warmest days and restless nights.

Wedding bells (round two)

My charming cousin in law, or really future cousin in law Jill had a few changes she wanted made on the wedding invitation samples I made.

So here are round two of wedding invites.

Sadly the elephants did not make it through round one. As much as I had been routing for them, I didn’t really think they would make the cut. If I ever get married, I might need use those for myself

I only sent these out today, so I haven’t heard anything yet but I’m hoping they please.

The request was for the beach image but to incorporate the maroon and peach color scheme. And to use the vellum and a more scripted font. But I ran into a few problems with conflicting patterns, vast plains of color, the image competing with the type, and a generally fogginess to the whole affair.

But here’s what I came up with, let me know what you think, which ones you favor. I’ve reached the point that I can’t look at them anymore.

Lifestyle Losers, dream big baby!

Last night I had a dream that I was a contestant on a reality TV show called Lifestyle Losers. I had made it through the screen process so their were 12 of us total. 6 women and six men. I terrified one of the men at one point, he had done something for me and seemed the nicest of the lot. I threw my arms him in a hug and you’re the best, I just love you. He was terrified.

Before the contest I had been staying at my brother's in San Diego and I marveled at how I had been chosen. But I didn't really know the back-story, I just thought it was amazing.

The people in the competition were all sorts of people with problems, shyness, stupidity, nerdy, jocks, and at least two artist who couldn't make a go of their art. I assumed I was one of those. The people were pretty, or ugly in terns, and the goal, so far as I could tell was to prove that with a little help you could be great. My strategy was to be nice, outgoing, and show my talent but always play nice.

I didn't get off to a good start, I immediately stepped on a few toes.

We all ended up having to take a train somewhere. And on my way to the train, on of the guys working on the show gave me a friendly warning. He was the butler. He had yellow eyes like an animal. I found them terrifying, hypnotic, attractive and revolting in turns. He told me I wasn't well liked among the contestants, and he was impartial to my plight, but since I was oblivious to what was going on around me he figured he'd warn me, be careful. I think he liked me. He said he would be there for support for all of us, but he thought I needed a little looking out for...

Then we talked about his job. Being a butler. I had thought he was a strong arm, maybe security, not a butler. I mention I'd only known one other butler, my friend Jeff dated him. His name was Kevin, but I was blanking the name I kept coming up with Nat or Nate. He though he knew Kevin but he wasn't sure. He didn't think his Kevin would date a boy.

I told him I thought I could win. He agreed but said I'd have to shape up and be careful. I couldn't afford to alienate these people. We had been sitting in a car he reached across me to open my door. He was a big guy, there was an implied threat in the gesture.

I woke up.

And that was it.

Wedding bells are ringing...

Where am I going to be on September 12th at 4pm? At my cousin Chris’s wedding in Maine of course. That’s a little drilled into my mind because I’ve been working on his wedding invitations. Which has been in turns, stressful, fun, exciting, draining, creative, numbing and ultimately fruitful.

I finally finished the sample invitations.

Welcome to the jungle

So I have this idea in my head. I’m doing a series of… um.. uh… well… It’s a series. It’s actually the same image done over and over again. With very few changes really. Sounds exciting huh? Right.

Well it’s the way my mind works I get an idea and it sits there and sits there and waits patiently as I ignore it and then it grows. And it grows. And it grows. And finally it pushes my other thoughts away until I start working on it.

This one is a little long term.

So I committed to it. And you would think I’d have picked some fantastic image if I were going to be stuck with it and committing all of this time and energy to it. But I didn’t. I drew something quick and stuck myself with it.

And what is the point of this one?

I got nothing. I don’t know what it’s for.

The images are different sized and media and probably will never fit together but… I’ve never done a series before. Not the same image anyway.

In the jungle….








More on the way...

I’m a feminist.

And I mean that. I mean it in the “I won’t apologize” kind of way. I mean it in the “I’ll stand up for myself and anyone else I need to” kind of way. And I mean that in the “I’ll support Hillary” kind of way.

If you don’t support Hillary are you not a feminist?

No, of course not. You might be a republican. Or an independent. Or an Obama supporter.

You can be an Obama supporter and a feminist of course.

I’ll try to refrain from adding a judgmental comment about Obama’s voting record, his inexperience, and the slightly misogynistic language he occasionally uses. Oh snap! I commented on that. Well it’s all in good fun.

This bit is from a Lynn Harris piece on Salon.com

But. If Hillary supporters are pissed off, and maybe even taking it out inappropriately on their Obama friends, I'd say we have reason to be. And this is what Darnton's essay fails to capture. We are frustrated. Not necessarily because we expect or demand that all women (!) must vote a certain way. Not necessarily by the possibility of an Obama win, but by that of a Clinton loss. And not just by that potential loss -- which, I should underscore, is not a done deal, even as the orchestra tunes for the ritual dance-on-grave -- but by (some of) the reasons that may be behind it.

We are frustrated by Clinton's dumb luck: Obama's advent, in this race of all races, is her "Snakes. It had to be snakes."

We are frustrated by the much-documented and -discussed perception that the media is harder on Hillary, or, as the case may be, sillier. (Witness the "Miss Frigidaire" question from Katie Couric, a woman who should know a little something about having one's "personality" appear to trump one's accomplishments.)

We are frustrated by the feeling that we skipped a step somewhere: How did a progressive female candidate come -- at least by comparison -- to represent The Man?
We are frustrated by the way it became "cool" to vote Obama and uncool to vote otherwise; this is an orthodoxy unto itself.

We are frustrated that diversity of opinion among women -- as if we're all on one big giant Listserv ("Who are you voting for? And what are you wearing? OK me too bye!") -- is so often reported as "division." (Even in articles about why Clinton supporters are frustrated!)

We are frustrated because it really would be pretty great to have a progressive woman president. Sue us.

And we are, yes, frustrated by people -- enlightened people! -- who say things like, "I agree with all her policies, I just don't ... like her." Or that she’s "cold." Or "calculating." (We all know about "shrill.") (Which to me, for the record, describes John McCain.)

That, my friends, is sexism the way racism is crossing the street at night when someone black approaches; it's ingrained at this point, reflexive. And that, my friends, is (in part) drinking the misogynist anti-Clinton Kool-Aid the GOP's been stirring up since 1993. I won't call them "terrorists," but it's letting them win.

So anyway I’m a feminist, and I like Hillary and I’m tired of apologizing for it. And if you really want to hate Hill go for it. Just understand what your reasons are, and what part the media played in them.

I’m sick of people telling me I’m a raging feminist, I’d like them to say I’m a supportive feminist. I’m tired of people teasing me, or belittling my points even as a joke. I have a sense of humor but that’s just not funny. But I put up with more than I’d care to.

Worse than that are the people who think we’ve achieved the proper balance and there’s no fight left. It’s this men and women are different and we should just accept this attitude that really does me in. Women who seemingly inherently trust men more than women hurt my head. They’re out there though.

Sigh.

So I’m a feminist, frustrated, but trained to be patient. I can wait with the best of them.

And as I waited for the writer’s strike to end… I never really gave it any thought of how it was affecting campaigns. I didn’t think about late night, or SNL or really anything, certain not the political part they play in primaries. Maybe Arron Sorkin was right… he did follow up the West Wing with Studio 60. And one of the complaints was that the comedy was taken just as seriously as the politics were.

And then I saw this in the Boston Globe today.