Monday, December 31, 2007

Year's End

I dunno how they did it. The tension was killing me, how could the Patriots players maintain focus is unbelievable. They may say it doesn't stop here, and that's right, but its a bit more normal now. I say that now, but wha tha heck do I know. But guys? Next time you're thinking about an undefeated season warn me, okay? Right now I don't have health insurance and another undefeated run? Well, health insurance would be a necessity. The stress would about kill me off. Just one loss, early in the season would save me so much...

The record breaking pass to Moss was a beaute. Truely.

But I'm a mess. You know the idea of a voodoo doll you stick pins into and good things happen to you or whatever? I feel like a voodoo doll. Pity your fans guys... 16 and 0 isn't no regular deal for nobody. My hairs a mess my fingernails are ragged my body a bloated pastey beer flotsam and even my cat scratched me.

That Elliot poem about the world ended not with a bang but a whimper? He must've been a sports fan too. Its obviously not a statement from one in control... "I grow old I grow old I wear my trousers rolled..." Bellichick would cut them off. What cracks this pastey insignificant not even roadkill up is... Bellichick's hoodies are the most popular item in the Pats store. AND PEOPLE WANT THE SLEEVES ALREADY CUT OFF! geeze peoples.

Go Pats don't stop now! I'm flinching but ready with matted hair somewhat braided knobby fingers and toes crossed pretty much chapped elbows hooked on bar rail and braced for the squinted hope of.... more wins. This year. Next year. Do go on...

Friday, December 28, 2007

Waxing Philosophical

Here's my latest wax. Its a ring and not quite finished.... (yet again. There's something about the ability to post unfinished projects that is quite seductive. Like there is more potential somehow.... and also, you don't have to wait. And, well, eluberant hope might be lost in the casting.) The face of the ring is flattish, and almost 3/4" across. The model will be cast in silver, and if i LOVE it, it'll be recast in sterling silver. The salamander represents passionate love, and the daisies are innocence.

Thursday, December 27, 2007


"The NFL avoided a potential backlash by fans unable to watch the New England Patriots' attempt to complete a perfect regular season, announcing yesterday that the NFL Network's telecast of Saturday night's game between the Patriots and New York Giants also will be carried by NBC and CBS.

The nationwide simulcast will be the first of an NFL game since Super Bowl I, and it dissipates a controversy that had been building in recent weeks because the league-owned NFL Network had been scheduled to carry the game alone. It reaches only about 35 million U.S. households."

There is a happy feet video on youtube I really like. That's me. Right now. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Our Team

This just cracks me up. Really it does. The NFL and all sports franchises make money off of the concept of "our team," or "our players." And then they cry business and just leave us alone to make more money when the fans cry foul! Its not just a business, and they should know... 'CAUSE THAT'S HOW THEY MAKE MONEY! A fan wants to be able to watch THEIR team. When THEIR team is in a record setting season, a perfect so far season, a quarterback and receiver breaking records, they want to see the freakin' game. They are not viewing it as a business transaction.... If it were, they might not pay the bucks to go to Foxboro and watch a Patriots game. They might instead buy a sofa or get the car fixed or go to Disney land. I don't know how many people I've talked to that say oh I remember when the Pats were terrible... They've watched them over the years not out of "brand loyalty" but because its THEIR TEAM.

On top of this is the anti-trust exemption that the NFL (network? league?) has. I know when Bush built a new stadium for the Texas rangers, he did it with tax payers money. I do not know all the tax breaks and tax supported projects the NFL has enjoyed, but I do know they are choked with money. They are a billion dollar industry... that is a business... a hugely profitable business... that is acting like a spoilt child. I know I am not the most irritated fan over being denied access to the Pats Giants game this Saturday... Just look at the politicians getting involved! Their message boxes must be stuffed! But its like talking logic to a spoilt child... the child just does not get it. Just does not understand where you're coming from.... If the NFL wants to be treated like a "business" FINE! BUT LEMME SEE THE FREAKIN' GAME FIRST! Broadcast it? Like, in an accessible way?


Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Sunday, December 16, 2007

May Your Holidays be Charmed

An exchange in the etsy forums reminded me of Christmases past. One Christmas in particular. It was when we lived in Bedford MA, and I was but a small blot. My brothers and myself (in I'm sure a squeaky supportive role as angst miester) had constructed a 3 story tree house. The 3rd story was a bit sketchy... in my sketchy memory... but what happened was painted like a Charles Dickens scene in my very small play dough mind...

SANTA KNOCKED THE TREE HOUSE DOWN! We woke up, Christmas morning, to find evidence of Santa's overdoing of the spiked milk and cookies in our back yard. There were sled tracks leading up to the shambles of our once proud and shakey edifice.... The tree house was pile on the ground, rather than a pile in the air. It was MAJIC!

I'm a middle aged lady, with a small though supportive beer belly (supportive of the Patriots, that is), and I've never really sought clarification on what happened that night, Christmas Eve, a million years ago. Not sure I want to. I don't know much about kids... but've heard different things like what you should tell them or not or whatever. But ya know? Sled marks to a smashed tree house rocked. Really. It was a fine silliness to believe in, for a while.

*oh. I forgot the clincher! Santa also left a note apologizing for knocking our tree house down. The stinker!

Friday, December 14, 2007

Games Played

Perhaps its been... overkill. (Perhaps????) Or my lack of previous exposure to following a sport that limits the landscape back drop to one seemingly like what was used in early western movies.... It's white hat black hat time. But. I REALLY DON'T THINK ITS MY PROBLEM. Its everyone elses' (*sigh*.) Watching the Pat's offense execute is GREAT! And when the defense pulls off a play its incredible. A possible undefeated season? It would be fantastic except I'm rather enamored of the idea of forcing NFL watchers to continue to listen to those '72 idiots.... (How can they continue to talk about their great season while the present day Dolphins tragedy unfolds? Have they no heart?)

But there is the "Hate-riots" thing. And. I dunno. I don't think the Patriots are handling it well. Energy is a tough thing. You can see it feel it but its a tough bug to nail. I actually think the response to the Patriots is similar to the political culture in the States right now and the living culture.... What I mean by living culture is disjointed consumerism, frantic belief clutching, and an undercurrent of fear that of course feeds into the belief and consumer noise. We, every freaking one of us, knows there are huge problems to be dealt with... Any animal, you threaten their territory and they freak. We, or at least I, may be a pulpy myopic poorly financed ineffectual out of shape listing mast of a wannabe human... but. (where was I?) In freakdom. These are the times of freakdom.

Which brings up a conversation I had with someone I don't know during the Pats Steelers game. As I've said before, I watch the Pats games at a bar... (that has its TVs waaaaay up! jeesh. good beer.) And. Drinking beer and you know how that goes... This fellow started going on about how the U.S. today is as fascist as the fascist governments of the 50's and 60's only now its the corporations dictating policy... (or something like that.) and I'm going on about how I think we are in the end stages of capitalism and a public that has been deluged with advertisements has difficulty discriminating between propaganda and information... (or something like that.) While both of us watch a game....

I think watching sports is a bit like pro-active nostalgia. GO PATS!

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Lucky AND Good

Thankfully the Pats listened. (hehehehe.)

You know. I'm a bit new to this. The whole sports viewing/rooting kind of thing. It started a year or 2 before Brady was quarterback. I had a job in downtown Boston that I would get out of about 5:30-6 o'clock on Sunday. I'd head for the nearest bar and root for the loosing team of which ever football game was showing, and drink a couple of brews. I hated my job. Football and beer gave me a purge distance that helped... and then I got into watching the game itself. I really didn't root for the Pats until I moved to Rhode Island and Brady started quarterbacking. I have no knowledge to judge his quality of play.... he wins. But why I liked him at the first was that he made things happen. I think that is the core of what makes him great. The range of potential. He and others might look to stats, completions or whatever.... I think its still the potential that is what's important. Its what can be sensed in a player or a team... Its what gives a freak series of plays (SEE RAVEN'S GAME!!!) room to happen. They say you make your own luck. That could be open to debate. I do think you have something to say about potential....

This might be why people take sports so personally. When the team wins you are better... when the team looses... you loose. Whether you need the purge (wouldn't any teams' victory suit?), or the fulfilling of what you sense they might be able to do that, well, in some tangential universe, there is a potential you can don as easily as a purchased Brady jersey. Is living well a quality of limited viewing... well angled snapshots... or matching the player with the play.... And you the figure on the sidelines in a Hoodie. (An aside. This evening a lady that knew Bellichick's hoodie is the best selling item in the Pats store watched the game in the next barstool. (!))

And here I'll depart from psychological propping to real life flaillings. Flopping wildly about, as it were. The easiest way to piss me off is to suggest that artists (or myself) do not or do not want to work. Success is the one vindicator. But, in art... Okay. let me back up. With a job you have a paycheck. In any artistic fields you have... a show? a sale? a line of work that is marketable? an idea? Where does clocking in in the morning give you the paper to stuff up someone's nose? Honestly. Yet. It is assumed, that, as an artist you don't want to work. WELL FRAK THEM! A sentiment I will not apologize for. (Besides I love the word FRAK.) (frackety fracktey frak!)

eh. how to end this. Because you know it goes on and on. Its one of the compromises with life. Here I am, one round diagonal self, with nary a corner to blend into. There is the world with its ever flattening edges. Is sports gaining in popularity? I don't feel totally alone in this. Maybe others find other blending tools. More power to them. In the meantime... GO PATS!

Love the beer enjoy the game CHEERS people.

Friday, December 7, 2007

Fine Filaments

I must admit, the title besides being yet another tortuous alliteration, is an echo of reading Paradise Lost. I don't want to go there again, hence just the echo, but. School time trauma creates its own associated flashbacks. Milton's filaments is one.

Now. On to the topic at hand... is to discuss the ye olde sayings type stuff. "I'd rather be lucky than good." Probably a misquote... it makes no real sense to me. I'd rather be lucky than good. Seems to be just saying you want to win.

Which bring up the Pats Ravens game. (JEESH!) By the time the last couple of minutes flashed before my beer soaked eyes... well. The game in itself was a winner. A Ravens player punching a Pats player who was on the sidelines... during a kickoff? Like what was going through his sweet little skull? And. I will probably mess this up but... That last Pats drive? One forth down conversion failed EXCEPT for a timeout called by the Raven's defensive coordinator who didn't have the authority to call it! (only the head coach does.) Second fourth down conversion failed EXCEPT for a false start on Pat's Russ H... (only time possible to be congratulated on a false start.) Third fouth down conversion failed EXCEPT for a holding penalty on the Ravens... Then touchdown! and an unsportsmanlike penalty was called on the Ravens and a Ravens player picked up the flag and threw it into the stands...

Like. Who is paying those Ravens... right? But they come back with a Hail Mary caught... on the one yard line. Suggestion to Ravens.... ::::think end zone with Hail Marys:::: Just being so generous with advice because game is over. And boy is it. One of the unmentioned memorables was the kisses the Ravens Head Coach did to Harrison after Harrison mouthed off to him. (What did you say Harrison? Unmentioned memorables sounds like undergarments.... )

Looking like... backward at this weekend's Steelers game.... Oh boy. I can't even guess. I'd say its gonna be a finger crossing toe crossing hair braiding kind of a day. HEY PATS! Being lucky AND good is way okay and much easier on this flabby fanatic. Jeesh.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Fixing Faces

*I am well aware that you are suppose alliterate with restraint. But this is MY blog... not some English paper.*

Anyway. Here's a picture of my latest endeavor. The nose is unfortunate. Kinda reminds me of Michael Jackson. I'm thinking on trying to fix it... there's a bit of porosity in this casting which would make soldering on a scrap of metal risky business. (Heat makes porosity a bit more expressive, you might say.) I carved the original out of wax. This is the model, out of silver. The end product will be bronze. But I need to be a bit more happy about it. The nose is bugging me.

The box is out of glass.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Contributing Karma

Okay. I do have an ulterior motive. I want my kitties home. My 2 missing kitties are the sweetest misfits in the universe. My kit-cats, the jigsaw pieces that make the rest of the puzzle okay, are gone... through a mistakenly left open door over a long weekend. I think the desire to alter the outcome of events that we, pathetic collective microorganisms that we are, has a long and convoluted pedigree. That's okay as far as I'm concerned... at least in its mushiest, humanest form. I have less tolerance for the more diadactic desires.... but that's not what I'm wanting. I want the lighted candles kind of hope. You know, like, the "end war" kind? The kind that happens in parks that folks drive by and say those peace people are just nuts. I guess the common part is hope and.... frantic wandering.

Contributing karma. How to make someting better that you have little to no control over. Shaking a kitty treat bag while calling and walking about the neighborhood... how much help is that? What can be done to overcome the fear.... I freely admit. I'm trying to generalize to ignore the very specific and personal worry.... How about taping a "life" symbol on my forehead? I store my lottery tickets under it.

But. My contribution to karma... to tip the balance to fit my needs will be to go sit in the rain near my back porch for my cats, and cross my fingers for peace.

*The kitters are home now. Yeah! I finally enticed the last of the wayward ladies back Thursday night.

Monday, November 19, 2007

The Supremes, or a Note on the Patriots Scoring Potential

hehehehe. (Figured I'd get that out of the way first.) hehehehe. (And second.)

But really, is there any doubt in anyone's mind that watched the Patriots play Sunday (late) night that they could have easily scored 3 more touchdowns? And make the score instead of a lowly 56 to 10, 77 to 10? Look at it. By restricting themselves to 56 points how is that running up the score? And, did you watch them go into overdrive just before the half? This is something the Pats take pride in. That they could score in 2 minutes if necessary. And it has been necessary! (Truely. The Pats rock.) So extapolate that over a game. Say, for instance, the Pats have posession for 30 minutes and score every 2 minutes... that's 15 touchdowns... 105 points. That means the Pats left 49 points on the table Sunday night. The Pats are the epitome of sensativity self restraint and humanitarian impulses towards the easily crushed, necessary to nurture, fragile flowers that compose the egos of the rest of the NFL.

hehehehe. (and again.)

but really. Those guys are good. When they say, its the offenses' job to score and the opposing defenses' job to stop them... that's it. Watching the Pats execute is scarily good. I'm glad I'm a Pats fan, otherwise... I'd be one beer soaked pissed off hair pulling barstool kicking... woman that really needs to get a life. Miami... read my comment after the "difficulty walking" post. Might give you a helpful suggestion on how to deal with your impending doom.... I mean game.

But enjoy it if you can. What the Pats are doing and doing so well is gold. NFL gold... which might be a heavily package over managed strategized to the last scrap of tape (!) and infiltrated with unspecified elements while clutched at with greed and hyped by bobble headed noise makers that are marketed by... desperate self hating artists. It is good... good as NFL gold.


Sunday, November 18, 2007

Fun Stuff

I purchased this from the other day. It was just way too appropriate for me to ignore!

Sunday, November 11, 2007

What's in a Face

I doodle a lot. I doodle when I'm listening, thinking, when I am stumped on a design. And most of the time I doodle faces... all sorts of faces. After posting my last "doogle" entry, I got to thinking what makes a face in my doodling world. I decided it was the eye(s). Very few of my doodles are without at least one eye. Oh and an explaination on why I call them "doogles." A doodle lacks intentionality and reproducing them gives them intentionality. I just felt they needed another name when lifted out of my long suffering sketchbooks.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

difficulty walking...

Thought I'd update... after spending a totally unreasonable amount of time on Patriot football related blogs in the past couple of days... was that a game, or what? What is really funny is. I go to watch the games in a bar. (Don't own a t.v. Yes, I'm one of THOSE.) The bar I go to has good beer and reasonable prices, an unbeatable combination for me. I'm willing to crank my neck up to watch the game at the goal post heights they place the t.v.s... jeesh. Again, good beer. But this fellow sat next to me that was there during the.... ah... how to phrase it... ah.... that thing that happened during the AFC thing last year......!!! It was absolutely horrible, which would be clarification enough to any Pats fan. So during the third quarter I'm thinking. What if this is bad luck? What if MY sitting here is in any small way jinxing...

So I started braiding my hair. It's the least a beer swilling middle aged broad could do. And IT WORKED! (snickers uncontrollably) Before heading off to stress test my neck, I attempted yet again a football thread at I called it "difficulty walking." Due to, well, the crossed fingers and crossed toes. Hence the braiding of the hair. You know, I'm not gonna cross toes while watching Pats football! Neither will I cross fingers while drinking beer. Etiquette.

But the comedic relief from the past few days are: Harrison slapping a ref on the rear. Is Harrison and Seau sharing a water bottle? Seau's splaying of his arms like a vaudville extra after an interception was tough to beat, but Harrison's competitive instincts pulled him through. Also, a comment on an ArmchairGM post comparing "Dungy is to Belichick as Mother Theresa is to Osama Bin Ladan." My computer screen will never be the same. A turban might improve Belichick's apparel... dunno and don't care. The guy wins games and players respect him. But Dungy in a habit? (I sell "LOL" earrings, by the way.) Another post that amused me. And it also informed me about the blindness of attitudes. A NFLgridion post basically questioned the appropriatness of the Pats to accuse the Colts of cheating (with piped in sound.) And I'm like, who better to question a team but the team that just beat them? Really. ("WTF" earrings aren't currently in stock.) ("doh" earrings are, however.)

Thursday, November 1, 2007

Blogging Doogles

Couldn't decide which do stick in... I've so many doodles clogging my sketch books.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

A Note on Gamesmanship

I don't play games much, just the odd card or pool game. And frankly, I don't like to loose. Against a reasonably competent opponent in cards, I stand a reasonable chance of loosing. In pool where I am less competent, I only have the possiblity of luck going for me. But, I really hate playing against people who are not trying to kick my ass. Particularly in pool. It's condescending. It's insulting. If I suspect someone of padding their shots, I won't play them anymore. A run on the tables shows more respect than acting a missed shot. To me, that is. Perhaps I'm just a hard ass, but if you are going to handicap me do it upfront and I don't want one. How can you get better if people just mess around? And its so great to make those few shots, and make them on your own ability.

That's why I think the problem is not the incredible scores the Patriots are running up, but that they need a better PR department. People are ready to fault the Pats, vs think about it. Do you want a fake game? I mean really. I don't. I don't like blow outs but I really don't like seeing an elite team not perform well. I think the Redskins defense has some work to do. Even when Cassel came in for Brady it was like the Redskins defense was eating popcorn in the stands. And another thing. Belichick does not do things for grins and giggles. He's a topnotch coach and I doubt the score was the result of some personal snit. He is very task oriented, and I would suspect a reason. Was he trying to psyche the Colts out? Belichick loves an edge. Were there offensive or defensive plays or combos he wanted to try before this week?

Bottom line for me is, blow outs hurt but condescension is a pisser. I also copied the following from a blog..(forget which):

Note from the football blog to those consumed with loathing of the Patriots for their latest transgression; scoring too many points...what a despicable team Some other game scores from the past - •The 49ers beat Denver in the SB 55-10. They were called dominant. •The Bears beat the Pats 46-10. They were called dominant. •The Cowboys beat the Bills 52-17. They were called dominant. •The Giants beat the 49ers in the playoffs 49-3. They were called dominant. •Gibbs and his Redskins beat the Rams in the playoffs 51-7. They were called dominant. •The Bears won the title 73-0. They were called dominant. •The Pats win 52-7 and they receive criticism? Only from those with no historical perspective on the game. Thanks to source for posting this in football blog

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Tree Ring

Molding this Tree Ring might be a bit of a problem... Jewelry molds are 2 part molds. But. Will see. Thought I'd show off the poor baby as it heads into an uncertain future....

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Mystery Musings and Brandy Bombast

Okay. I must take a moment to discuss psychology, a discilpline I am profoundly unqualified to discuss. Which brings up another point. The specialization in a culture that exposes so many ineptitudes. Like. Before Psychology became a discipline it was a late night tilt of a wine bottle filling a glass while the question "what the hell was she thinking" was asked. Or was it brandy. I forget. (You know, those scenes of Charles Dickens are so wonderfully flexible. Read Tale of Two Cities, listen to a couple of BBC newscasts, and your life will never be unscripted.)

Back to Psychology. A funny thing happened on the way to a lottery ticket. Today I scooped 51 cents off the streets, which gave me a buck to buy a powerball ticket. Immediately I felt accomplished. Well, I do have a crow's eye. But. Intellectually I am totally aware that the vast overwhelming likelyhood that I'd win is less than zilch. One in a million ten billion whatever. The idea of paying off debts, going to the dentist, and buying fine wine is a fantasy. I know that. I know also that the whole reason the lottery exists is Americans do not want to pay taxes. They do not want to pay for roads or schools, and definitely not healthcare. So they call the lottery a "stupid tax." I've heard that so many times and it really is not cute. The lottery is a tax on the poor. Pure and simple. It is a regressive tax. A tax on those that think a one in a million ten billion chance is better than none. It is an easy tax to levy. A tax on dreams.

The reason I buy lottery tickets with the change I find on the streets is in part protest. (see the 22 cent entry.) And in part.... what the hey. I find the money anyway. I could never countenance paying for a lottery ticket from earned money. If it were within my power, I would organize a nationwide boycott of all lottery sales. The politicians would then have to find a way to raise the money elsewhere in a more equitable manner. They would have to stop grubbing THE MONEY OFF THE STREETS. I am litterally doing what the politicians are doing and what americans are doing.

I think what bugs me most is calling a dream or a fantasy stupid. (Which, you know, like, well, where's that leave me?) And what interests me is how I so oddly and knowingly buy into the hope. Eh, think I need to read a Tale of Two Americas.... er... Cities... again.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

New Things

I think one has to come to some accommodation with how things get made. You always want a Monet or Carrivagio or Michalangelo... and the fumbling towards the finish has its majical moments. But, sometimes a torn fingernail intrudes. (The British painter Turner grew one fingernail longer to scrape at the paint. Turner rocks. Some folks just teach you lessons in awe.) But back to the making of things... Kitty Karma, a pendant, was my fourth cat pendant. The other 3 didn't quite make it. I wish I were more succinct in making stuff, but I hope that the frustration of failure condenses the final piece and makes it finer. (Failure ought to be good for something. It's the thriftiness in me.)

Here is a bird piece that is undergoing further revision. This one is part way there... I have another sketch I'm currently working on also. (The birdie pictured has not been polished or antiqued. Models don't generally get polished.) I do have some fondness for this piece... which is probably why it has stayed so long on the to do list. However, the frustration with birdie might have helped with the other sketch.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007


I have never been a successful exerciser. While I am fairly active, (rode a bicycle from Arkansas to San Francisco once), to pointedly do something for the production of sweat seems not to be a part of my make up... Recently I purchased an Elipse or Eclipse or whatever (an exercise thing.) It holds my clothes and clotheshangers fairly well. Once or twice a week I bicycle down a bike path, approximately 30 miles total, for coffee. If there wasn't a coffee at the turn around spot and a fun bullshit session on Patriots football, I'm not sure I'd do it. Weelll. probably. But you get the point. However with time and time's lament and saggy baggy gravity and the whole bit... I go walking. The last refuge of this hopeless indolent. Here's 2 pictures from my standard walk to the library...

They are tearing down the old police station for a parking lot. (?) I wish they'd put in a park, but that's just me. If I win the lottery I'll buy that spot and make a park. Okay?

And I can't help it. I covet those bricks. Those old soft looking bricks. I want to bring them home with me. Perhaps I identify.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

Small Change

I thought I'd take pictures of my small street change collections... Occassionally, at least. This is for the lottery ticket I bought yesterday. There are certain areas change appears, around the gas station, cars, and the mall. I like the texture of change that has hit the streets... You can see the penny that is hardly recognizable as a penny. At first when I picked it up, out of the middle of the street, I was a bit disappointed 'cause I thought it a dime. Instead, its a hard worn penny.

This is in reference to my 7/18/07 Twenty-Two Cents entry. Though I must admit, I forget to check if I've won or not.

**The fellow where I buy the lottery tickets doesn't seem to know what to make of me and my highly textured change. I'm not sure I could explain... Hope he doesn't loose patience with me!

Friday, October 5, 2007

A Perfect Bird Nest

And here I thought I'd constructed a lightbox. Silly me! My cat Bird shows its real function....

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Brews and Self Restraint and Football

I'm not a big fan of self restraint. I think its because it takes so long for the cogs in my brain to mesh into any coherency that when should if they do and action occurrs.... slowing things down with restraint is rather redundant. However. I had too many brews last night. And I really am too old to be a bobble headed doll.

But the Pats game was FUN! I thought the Bengals played pretty well. The Pats... I would say the defense did okay? The score says they did okay. As an inebriated spectator, I wasn't so sure. And the offense looked spectacular occassionally and other times... Isn't the Bengals defense suppose to be not that great? I'd have to look up how many times the Pats punted... only once or twice. It seemed to be more...

The highlights were... Moss' catch. Does that guy play or does that guy play. And the reverse thing that they got 27 yards on. How many times does that happen? So there was some fun stuff... The NFL season is a long one. Hope the Pats continue their winning ways... GO PATS!

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The Vast Offending Multitude

See I've got this theory.

People complain that folks scuttle off to forums and blogs on the internet that they agree with. So they spend all their time listening to their own views restated back at them, and therefore forget how to get along and repsect others that don't agree with them. There's a couple of things I think about that. One is obvious. The internet ain't perfect. Communication here is visual, and in forums is pretty much just written verbage. And most of us, this clayish sort included, aren't even Faulkner wannabes. There's a fair number that relied on Cliff Notes and lucky guesses when honing our written communication skills. Hence the emoticon. I've owned a computer with a good internet connection for almost 5 months now. And out of my extensive experience, I have come to appreciate the use of the variety of abbreviations and emoticons. But emoticons and torturous verbage only suffice for what... 10%? 20%? of human communication.

You can't generally see someones facial expression on the internet. You can't tell how tired they are, complement them on their hairstyle, watch them move their bag when they sit down, or appreciate the soles of their shoes. Communication seems to be limited to the impact suface of a ram's horn when fighting on a mountaintop.

I would plea, be civil people. But when, really, has civil society been civil? I think a lot of people have been conned by the sterile angles of our monitors... Need I sift through history? Public hangings? floggings? the stocks? viewing the insane at Bedlam... mob violence (pick any point in history)... public stoning.... And that's just a scattering of the more grotesque examples. Discrimination, racism, and bigotry are all viciously alive in our theoritically hygenic times. And wars continue...

So you sit down, moving your bargin basement bag as you ease those too tight shoes off your swollen feet and scrunch your greasey face up as you stare, with determined humaness, at the cool grey monitor... Who do you feel in the mood to tolerate?

I'm bummed. But then, I'm human.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Productive Cocoon

Cocoons have a bad rap. I don't know why, particularly with the world as crazy as it is. Here are a couple of pictures of my refuge. On the floor at my right side is a boom box, behind it on a small stool is my ultrasonic, and above that is the polishing wheel. To my left is the torch pickle pot and flux. Among other assorted items... it is a well textured space.

I like looking at other's workspaces. Its not just a vingette on someone's personal space and style... it is deeply and recognizably human. There is a bonding to be had at the point of creation that is, I think, most accessible in the space of creation. Perhaps because everyone has held a pencil, or a knife. The product is of the artist or artisan, but the space can be looked at and recognized for its small universal components.

Friday, September 21, 2007

I Protest

Lately I've gone back to protesting the Iraq war. I attended 2 protests in Washington D.C. at the start of the war, one right before and one when I thought things might change. During the first protest I felt hopeful. Like, maybe somebody might listen. At the second, I realized I was doing it more for my own peace of mind. I just felt and still feel that this war is an expensive incompetent mistake that is killing people.

So a couple of times lately I've been holding up anti-war signs at a local overpass and waving at the cars beneath. Stuff like "Honk to stop the Iraq War" and mine says "Money for Healthcare not Warefare." 3 weeks ago when we did it, only about 3 people flipped us off. Even 2 cars with uniformed military guys driving honked and waved. The vast overwhelming response was positive. And there are thousands and thousands of cars. This last time about 5 people flipped us off. I smile and wave at those that flip me off for 2 reasons. One is, there is no way to compete with such negativity so why try. The other is, I know it pisses them off. And, without exception, the people that are flipping us off are white males. Not even older white males. They are young to middle aged white males.

I don't feel that great about this effort. I am doing it for me, again. This war will go on, at the rate of 10 billion dollars and how many deaths PER MONTH for the next 10 years. That could buy a lot of health care.

I want to immigrate to Canada. I don't have health insurance and it isn't possible at this time either. And I feel that a country that spends 10 billion a month on such an incompetent and deadly mistake does not demonstrate good priorities for its citizens.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Classey Pinkies

Which is more important than you think, I think, except right now when I am definitely not thinking. Totally, that is. What I do think is... boy those Pats ROCKED! Was there one thing that won the game? HELL NO! They freaking ROCKED ALL OVER! The important elements of the Pats offense? Brady Moss Marhoney Morris Watson Welker the offensive line.... And the defense? Colvin Thomas Hobbes Samuel Warren.... And I know I left some key players out. Man did they rock. They were all on the same beat and did it. (I didn't list Wilfork. And he's the man, man. With a great smile like that he can just sit back and beam. Of course he doesn't, but.)

But talking about Pinkies. I understand. I totally understand. I have been under a pinkie cloud too.... Am currently a recovering pinkie-itis afflicted. I would like to quote somebody here. Loved this:

SPENCER, IA-- Democratic Presidential candidate Governor Bill Richardson, campaigning today in Iowa, issued the following statement regarding the recent "spying" incident involving the National Football League’s New England Patriots:

"The President has been allowed to spy on Americans without a warrant, and our U.S. Senate is letting it continue. You know something is wrong when the New England Patriots face stiffer penalties for spying on innocent Americans than Dick Cheney and George Bush."

That's not the whole story. Colvin (of New England Patriots) covered whatever better. (Boston Herald article.) Me, I'll settle for being a brew swilling broad, squiting at the T.V. and hoping the good guys are good enough and they win.


Wednesday, September 12, 2007


Thought I'd get that out of the way... And the obvious... agaisnt the Jets? THE JETS? Nothing against them but... really.
The Jets?

It points to... what the Pats did on Sunday was so routine for them that they did it against a team they should've beat by 21 anyway.

My theory. Last season there appeared to be a steep learning curve in play calling by the offense. By the end of the season, it was pretty good. Sometimes a screw up (Miami, first half Chargers), but generally pretty good. Now we know why. I just don't think Josh McDaniels is any where near the offensive coordinator that Charlie Weiss was. I think this is how they were compensating. And I think this stinks. Its a bad crutch to be so dependant on. Also, play calling wins and looses games.

It is true stuff like this has always been going on. Its why catchers call the pitches between their knees, why coaches hold up papers or otherwise cover mouths, why signals are changed for every game. But what the Pats did sounds so blatant and routine. (Against the Jets?)

Its hard to be sorry for a 300 lb guy, but Wilforks bigger than that and I feel bad for him. I feel bad for Hobbes and Vrabel and Thomas and Bruschi. I feel bad for Welker and Brady and Dan (the center). I feel bad for the entire offensive line (those guys are great.) And Green and the rest of the defense. They've been let down. Big time.

I don't want to watch Sunday. I'll think about it. But really, I don't want to watch.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

GO PATS!!!! eh.

My prediction was, Pats by 21 over the Jets. Depending on how pissy Bellichik was feeling. He may have only wished to win by 14. Who knows. And that tackle of Pennington by Green looked totally clean... I think Green's a good guy and he still has my vote.

What I didn't expect was. To blow the last 3 minutes of play... or was it 4? Disscussing The Great American Healthcare Industrial Complex. I'd had a couple or few brews... not a care in the world, right? And here it looms, on my small and personal horizon... The Great American Health Care Industrial Complex.

So I'm sitting there, saying to this perfectly nice fellow...(poor guy... red hair? my family has a thing about redheads...) How I think that Americans are more suseptible to propoganda... because they are close to the end stages of capitalism. They are more use to being treated and talked about as consumers than as citizens. And how the oligarchs use this power of propoganda to tell people how great their healthcare system is.... even though they pay twice as much for a system that isn't even the best. (Americans don't get out much.)

We (Pats, the good guys) won the football game but can the war be won. My theory is, that the chink in the armor of the oligarchs is, healthcare. The poor fellow I was bombasting (great flirt, me), said Americans don't care and that they are not paying attention. I'm like, it's difficult with the static in the enviroment created by competing advertisements and products (what was it, the Bushies did not want to launch their new product "war" in August. Because you don't launch a new "product" "war" in August. ! ! ! Don't, with death from a "product" you get recall? RECALL!) (I WANT A RECALL!)

But. hunger might focus the masses. And the power, despite the attention entanglement of a thousand things demanding YOU, is in the masses. If we did not offer up our behinds, people like the product pushing Bushies would have nowhere to place their commanding triumphal boot clad toesies.)

So next to mass starvation is the obvious inequality in access to healthcare. I think there the apathy that the oligarchs are use to exploiting to their own benifit might become a bit, prickly. Yes, a coach like Bellichik would be helpful. And I have only a wet noodle for a sword. But people, a thousand wet noodles can really gum up the works.

If I were an idealist, I'd be... well... idealistic. As it is... I'm wondering if I can watch Patriots games in Canada. The whole thing makes me so tired. I don't want the oligarchs to win. I want lucidity, intelligence, equality... I want the good guys to win.... But people. We are way behind and there is no leader. At some other time I might go into what I think the genius of the Pats organization is. Its been said elsewhere. But here I want to say. what. What. WHAT! CARE people. that is what you need to do. Ask questions and care. Be a wet noodle too.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

My Favorite Ancient Oriental Inebriate

Li Po. He's the Man:

"Past and present do not differ,
both must reach understanding
but I, though old, yet have not
reached understanding; "

Does he not rock?

"youngsters, what have you to say?
for you in your time will also
change to be old men of the hills."

(from My Wine Cup Beside) Honestly, I'd give my left fallopian tube to write like that.
And a poem of night, wine, desire and dancing...

"Alone and Drinking under the Moon"

"Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us;"

Did E.D. read Li Po? Or did she channel him?
Some historian with finely matted brain cells would know. I don't. But this music needs to get out of the dust jackets and into the firmament.

"........I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me;..."

There are few folks that can foil this mess of modern life.
My Li Po story. (Everyone has one about their favorite celebrity, right? And Li Po is The Man.) I went to the MFA in Boston, MA, and wandered into the Asian exhibit. On the wall was a glass case with a wire hanging down and at the end of it, a hook. The title of the work was portrait of Li Po, and I don't know whether it said "Ancient Oriental Inebriate" or whether my brainiac supplied that. But I stood there, gazing at this seemingly empty case, for awhile. Finally, defeated, I'm like, I do not understand. There are no vibes, no intuition or cognition happening.

Then looked down. At the bottom of the DISPLAY case was a note saying picture removed for photographing.

Saturday, September 1, 2007


Two kitty cat pictures. One is possibly a stray, possibly a survivor... Worrying about this kitter is not just a pastime. Still am hoping a wonderful individual shows up and claims her, or adopts her.

And here is a Kitty Pendant... for those of you that may think she doesn't look sufficiently catlike check out this website:
The spectrum of cats is amazing.

Monday, August 27, 2007

It's the NFL SEASON! Prepare with Etsy's Own Personal Shopper, KarmaRox!

A stadium of applause, please, for's own Personal Shopper, KarmaRox! Football season is upon us and we don't have to listen ANYMORE to querulous "who is the best quarterback" mumbo... Now is the time to watch guys making more money than you will EVER see kick some ASS. I have asked KarmaRox to assist the excited-to-ditziness fans prepare...

The first is, well, the long wait. Some of you may have been reduced to this... I hope not. But if so, did this fabulous photo...

Next... Its here! Finally! No more Uber-analysis! Out of KarmaRox's own shop, at is... (I picked this.) It's fun! It's fun! It's really really fun!

And "proper" dress for the occassion? has a GREAT possibility!

And you may need this to yell... I don't. I only yell at a T.V. screen and risk getting thrown out of the bar at that... But for those of you less situationally challanged has this:

This is for the Atlanta Falcon's fans. Don't know if it will help! made...

And lastly... hehehe.... These guys are fans, though I don't know of what. A FOOTBALL fan returning to his car has to thank for this IMAGE if nothing else!

All you guys are GREAT!

Saturday, August 25, 2007

The NFL and I

I know that beer plays a large part in this.

At no time in my life, past 14 years of age that is, have I ever been under the delusion of intellectualism. And for me, believe me, it would be a delusion. Occassionally I read books that excersice the few feeble brain cells rattling about in my cranium. But having read Ulysses twice (okay, in a book group) I figure I'm good for the next couple of years, at least.

But I go to a bar (don't own a T.V.), drink beer, and watch football once a week. I really don't have the patience for more. But this, excuse me or not, is perfect. I enjoy this and am not quite sure why. Yes, I think Vince Wilfork of the New England Pats has a beautiful smile. But he ain't my hottie. Tom Brady, a good quarterback and the perfect Belichick quarterback, is more admirable to me for the way he stays with the game and is always working at it. His Hollywood looks are a bit of a turn off. (? a character flaw, I'm sure.) Watching beefcakes bounce around in tights is fun, no doubt about it. But my favorite players are the ones that stay in there. Troy Brown's stripping the ball out of a Charger's hands last year was just that. Staying with the play. Also seeing Wilfork halfway down the field... The kicker making a tackle....(Gostowski)... A solid catch a good tackle the offenive line creating a good pocket....the defense stopping the opponents cold at the 1 yard line...

Those are the things I think about while watching... and are definitely a big part of the attraction. But there is also... hearing about (yet another) bomb in a Baghdad market. I protested the war even before it started. I actually thought at the time that something could be done to stop a bad idea... And I'm not young.

Perhaps it is the combo. A bomb, beer, and beefcakes bouncing. Somewhere in there is what makes me enjoy the NFL. I've heard it said that the reason people like to write about sports is because its easy. Maybe that extends to the watching of it. Like a nice fall breeze, and beer.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Desperate Kitty

There's this stray cat that showed up a couple of days ago. I feel that if you feed a cat, you accept responsibility for them. And this poor kitty is way too scrawny to ignore. So. I'm calling her desperate kitty until she gets a home or the Rescue League has space for her. She's a total sweetheart.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Mz Model

She's finally in the shop. What took so long is. well. I always seem to push the limit of successful plaster casting. Its so easy you almost have to be creative to find ways to mess up. This time I did not seal the plaster waste mold well. and. Blew tons of time vs the few minutes it would've taken to nicely seal the mold and cast the silly thing. Ah well. In one picture she is modeling the "Cool Tree Pendant."

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

The Inescapable Dictates of Fate

I go out to contemplate the carnage, occassionally, beer in hand. I sometimes go out to further the carnage, shovel, chain saw, or clippers in hand. While yard work has its moments, I would say digging out a yew hedge is not one of them. I've dug out boxwood hedges, small maple trees, a not so small crabapple tree, brambles, honeysuckle, and rose of sharons. I've plants rose bushes, transplanted rose bushes, transplanted hydranges, planted hydranges, planted a cousa dogwood, plum tree, dogwood, 2 lilac trees, and a small eastern redbud. I've dug out bushes and planted bushes. I've dug out a wisteria, and won't ever plant one. But nothing amoung the perinials or annuals of my small yard has ever inspired in me such an urge for contemplation, or recognition of.... destiny.

To dig stuff out, you have to dig around the thing, as close as possible. Clipping and sawing roots as you go. Maples aren't as tough as you might think. There is the mother root... shoot off from the parent, and the tap root. Roots seem generally to be softer. The exception being the yew bush. Hence, the chain saw.

My parents built a house when I was a kid. (They didn't do it themselves... they hired a contractor, architect, and whatnot.) And the house was cut into the hillside instead of being built on the hillside. (Stuff happens.) Anyway, we ended up with a devastated yard and a drainage problem. With 4 kids, that's almost a solution to another problem. We built culverts everywhere. Wheelbarrows, large rocks, clay earth, topsoil and shovels are my most basic connection to that time and that place. (Well, and the workroom. The workroom was GREAT.) One time I remember us taking a wheelbarrow down to the end of the street... approximately a city block away... to collect our irises that had washed away in a storm.

What I'm saying is... I can't help it. Like a duck, there's imprinting and heredity to consider. If the yew hedge wasn't there, I wouldn't be doing this. But stuff happens.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Etsy's Own Personal Shopper, KarmaRox!

Big round of applause please. The Personal Shopper created by KarmaRox at, has been one of the most entertaining features of the Etc section of the Forums. Alas, it was sentenced to the Promotions sections and has since ceased to exist. I have asked Karma a few humble shopping questions and this is what she responded with:

1. For the gal who needs a new about something to jot things down in that bother you....nothing cures that better than a lovely journal!

2. For the person looking for a clue....ha ha ..... I don't have a clue but I did like the board game when I was a kid so here's your clue!
3. Need a new face? Well Halloween IS around the corner! I found this for you: ('Miniature Masquerade Mask Pin')
4. Your attitude is what it is so just live with it and get this from
5. Well brains are hard to come by but Etsy has this which I personally would love to own! Hope you like it!

Thank you so much Karma! Brilliant. If anyone has any shopping questions for, I may try to host Karma the Amazing again so just include the request on the comment page.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Reasoning Reasons

Okay. Yet another explaination.. of the title for "Fluff" this time.
(I like to wax philisophical, as it were. To lean back in a comfortable chair, clutch a cold brew, and to fuss at the universe with a teaspoon of not so well intellengized reason. But occassionally I find I have less inclination or time or fatigue or there's strong web of preoccupation entangling the small rodent that is my brain...)
Anyway, that's my excuse for not updating my blog for a while. Thought I'd get that explaination out of the way first...

Now as to "Fluff." The first reason for the title is: I like it. And of course, in my small hemetically sealed world, that is most important. The second is something I've seen a couple of times in my anemic purusal of the art/neo-art/art-a-fart... wanna fart... (where was I?)... ART world. That is, the motivating force of vengence.

Years ago, a lady that is (I'll assume present tense) a wonderful repesentational watercolorist talked about motivation... She said how when she was starting out... she painted a couple of watercolor paintings, and through a fluke, they were fantastic. A gallery expressed interest and asked for more work. Her subsequent work stunk. She spent 3 years relearning how to paint, and why those first couple of paintings were so good. During that time, whenever someone made a disparaging remark, she put them on a list. When she was in a small show and the guy that hung the show put her piece back by the trash cans, she put him on the list. The list was for her first one person show. And that guy hung the show.

Another artist was told the material she used was "cafty." As in, not good enough for art. Or something like that. Who knows what he was talking about except that he was disparaging in a unengaged abstact I'm-just-bad-mouthing type way. That artist is now fairly successful using just those "crafty" materials... (will print name after okay.)

Now to "Fluff." I showed a ring I'd carved to a fellow employee.... his response was "fluff." He didn't know it was mine... But. The fellow has made my list... (not that, actually, I think "fluff" negative. Neither is "crafty" for that matter.)

Such scheming and whatnot requires... success. "Getting yours" doesn't count if, well, you don't get yours. You can clutch your shopping cart as vehemently as you wish but if you are homeless.... people will walk around you. (Though. they still might not wish to be on any list of yours.)

I'm up to fifty-two cents in my lottery-retirement wanna-suceed with-change-off-the-street fund. Somehow it all hangs together... I think....

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Monday, July 30, 2007


Okay. What was your best advice given/got? I don't remember any big moments myself.... but the fog that clutches my feeble cranium is at the moment not allowing a blinding moment of revalation to shine forth from my fumbling past... I do remember a 10th grade teacher to whom my parents made me appoligize to (for being chronically late to class), I remember her saying, "If that's all you've got to worry about you don't have a problem."
Which wasn't advice. More like a recognition of, well, the relative importance of things in different people's worlds. is featuring me this week... And one of the questions was, do you have any advice. What I came up with was have a great time, life is short. But didn't feel that sufficient. Something more must be said... some veil of darkness pulled back with the utterance of a few well chosen monosylables....(as the sides of the hood sway lightly about the shrouded figure... maybe this is why Belichick wears a hoodie.) So I asked in the forums. A few times too! It was like pulling a yew hedge out of the ground! (I've never pulled teeth.) The results:
HerRoyalMajestyBags: (something about lots of undies...)
LalenaHays: Your thoughts are your reality so choose them wisely. (my response.. oh dear.)
KarmaRox: (something about brushing felines...)
KealaLegacy: Love it or leave it, but don't be rude! (I like that.)
FireChickTick: never lick a snow shovel (ewww)
RoseBrown: Avoid the clap. (ewwwwwww)
BlondezillaBeads4fun: Don't be afraid to try something new.
KarmaRox (again): Don't titter in a room full of strangers. (though I may be misquoting her here...It may be best to just say *titter*)
Pandys: A clean house is overrated. (and something about cool whip but i don't wish to misquote her so I'll just stop there.)

Thanks youse guys! The world needs a bit more wisdom!

Saturday, July 28, 2007

To the Dogs

You know. Should the courts find Atlanta Falcon's quarterback Vick guilty, (the case does appear well documented,) I'm going to feel like minor mush. Mush because anyone who would treat animals that way is dispicable, but also I hate watching someone self destruct in public. And the minor part of it? He's a Falcon, not a Patriot, so I'm less conflicted. Though. To be honest I'm not sure I'd feel conflicted about a Patriot involved in such demonic stupidity. I'd feel bad. A team is a group of people. The total is what counts. But man, can the individual be BAD NEWS.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

The Contrariness of Modeling Models

This little model head... is sculpted out of plasticine and will be cast into plaster. If she makes it. I'm rather unhappy at the moment... but the ear at least may be usable. Off with the ear!

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Lickable Labels for the Forehead

Sometimes I rant. Well, okay, maybe its called a blog. But I wonder. Is this a life stage, sexual frustration, or reasonable evaluation of the foibles of this bizzaro world?
There's this old addage... people get the leaders they deserve. I do not agree at all. No body deserved Hitler. or Stalin. Saying stuff like that sounds so very self satisfied, so very leaning back in a well cushioned chair, like, I've paid all my bills haven't you?

Okay. to particular peeves... To sell stuff, advertisement is seen as helpful (my ineptitude aside.) You have to inform people of your product, and entice them to buy. This is a core product of capitalism. That has infected another core aspect of what we think of ourselves... that we are a democracy. A democracy needs a well informed public. But we aren't folks. We aren't well informed at all. We are targets, focus groups, brainless buttons for the power people pushers. Perhaps it has always been so... but with the information available for the turgid amoung us, it seems worse. But like I said, maybe I've just become a hen in front of a computer screen.

And to target the individual "consumer". (Just count sometime, out of curiousity, how many times americans are refered to as consumers vs citizens or members of society or even voters.) (just count.) That's what's done. "individuals", not members of a society, are targeted. Again and again. And we are told, again and again, about "individual" responsiblity. Not the responsiblility of society. Someone sues, and they are seen as not being a responsible "individual." Not noting at all anything relating to the fact that the "individual" is all on their own. They don't owe anybody anything. BECAUSE nobody owes them anything, right? Its a 2 way street. Or all one way. Whatever.

And again. The end stage of capitalism. Or derierre. The derrierre of Capitalism. When people are targets, consumers, focus groups, corkbrained foreheads.... Debate becomes simplified. A "look" is needed to a drug commercial, repetative sloganeering is needed for a politician. I personally don't think the american public is as stupid as its leaders, but I kinda squint sometimes when I say that. It is so difficult. I feel that expectations affect an individual's actions. On a societal level, how does that work?

Eh. Elect pink bowed rabbits.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007


Okay that now cements it. The Patriots are going to go to the Super Bowl in 2007. (!!!!) Just read my "Who Knew" post. You see, I just found out that Gisele Bundchen made the Forbes list as top model earner with 33 million (not the 150 million? where did I get that...) And that fits into my convoluted calculations a bit better. 33 million for GB+ 30 million for TB (who really cares about the "best quarterback" as long as you get to the Super Bowl) + a 30 dollar fine for me = .... well. Anyway. Let me think on this....

Twenty-two Cents

That's where I'm at. 22 cents. Under the new rules.

I do not like or believe in the lottery. It is an opiate for the masses. And I feel, with the ever widening gap between the rich and the poor, it is almost immoral. But, perhaps, understandable. For the period of time between purchasing the ticket and loosing, someone who could not afford a vacation can fantasize about owning a beach house in Tahiti. A car can be paid for and a dentist visit made. Which is why the lottery is a drug. Instead of protesting wages, work conditions, lack of job secuity, or lack of health care benifits, anger is effectively disapated by a flimsy slip of paper. Better luck next time.
Proponents of the lottery look at what the proceeds pay for. But its a regressive tax, folks. Who buys those tickets to dream? Predominatelly the underfunded.

But. One must do something, mustn't one? To be a responsible member of this society, one should do retirement planning and... (well, health care insurance is practically a nonsequitor). Hence the 22 cents. Given my attitude towards the lottery I shouldn't, in old-fashioned face-the-myself mirror mode, buy a lottery ticket. However, in a politician-like finesse, there is always the change on the street.

Sunday, July 8, 2007

Speaking of Little Guys... made me a new avatar. My little man is back in the shop!

An Explaination

About the Insect. That poem was written maybe 10yrs ago. At the time it needed one more line. I've looked at it a few times since then thinking, what is missing.... Then the other day, in a desperate fit of procrastination I saw this poem and the missing line. I'm not sure how I feel about the poem anymore, but it is finished. Kind of unfortunately finished. I like to think there is a bit of poetry occassionally in my hands and what I make... but it ain't in my head. I haven't written a poem in years. Sometimes I feel if I weren't so tired, so distracted by life... Maybe if I had more or fresher brain cells...

Whatever. I know I haven't caught a honeybee in years. But also, when I think about them now I feel bad. They are dying? The worker bees can't find their way back to the hive? That intricate society of the honey bees may become extinct? That really.... when people talk about dinosaurs its like a joke. This isn't a joke. You know. The LITTLE GUY THAT SAMPLES OUR CLOVER NEEDS TO ROCK ON.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007


In the black and white photo
I am two. I squat
and hold a bug between
thumb and finger--
an intent look on my face.

A man sits beside me and says
"I don't love you." I don't know this man.
Three stops until I'm free.
The train isn't crowded enough.

In every school project I used bugs.
I never killed them.
Honey bees were my favorite catch--
scooping them one-handed off the clover
like gold dust.

He says, "I like your hat."
I move towards the door.
Should I leave should I stay
does he look violent.
Already I am late.

I taught a friend how to catch bees.
I told her they won't sting--
If they sting they die--
Just be gentle.

The man gets off at my stop--
I try another exit but there he is
in front on the stairs turned, and
scanning the crowd--

My friend got stung. You squeezed too hard
I told her. There was light
on the clover. The air was light.
We ran from the field.
I remember the length of her hair.

Monday, July 2, 2007

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Lists of Important Things

I am amazed by my tools. I love the way they look. I like their feel, the heft, their use. When you need to do something and you pick up a tool and it is just right, life is good. I relax in the presence of my tools. My workroom is a well textured cocoon. The only thing I do in my workroom is work. There are no easy chairs no casual table or reading lamp. There are 3 workbenches: the jewelry bench, woodworking bench, and the etcetera bench with plaster stored underneath. And the shelves. I won't ever list my jewelry tools... wouldn't do it for taxes or fun... life is too short. But my saw list amazes me. I don't classify myself as abnormally aquisitive. But look at this list...

Prune saw (2), 3 hacksaws (varying sizes), PVC pipe saw (plastic), a dove tail saw, hand saw (2, one good and one almost gone), 1 thin hand saw, A Japenese saw that is so cute and unused, 1 electric mitre saw, 1 manuel mitre saw, 1 circular saw, 2 jigsaws (one extremely old that I should dispose of, but, well), 1 Bosch saw that is so useful for nipping off the bottoms of door moldings in an old house if you are installing floors. Don't know its name, except "goddess-sent"), and a sawzall.

The sawzall is my favorite, except possibly the Japenese saw that is so cute and unused. Though the Japenese saw is more of a cosmic favoritism. The sawzall is an aren't-we-having-fun-now favorite. My hand saw is pretty special too.

Lists like this are so satisfying. Its kinda like a history and a story and a personal definition all in one. Every single item has a moment and a purpose attached to them. I remember needing the PVC pipe saw and I remember buying the handsaw. The sawzall has so many what-the-hell moments attached to it that's probably why its a favorite. Its like a motorcycle memory. And the Japenese saw sits, encased in plastic, sleek and unused.

Saturday, June 30, 2007

Just an addendum. Someone has far exceeded my feable PH reference. Check out

Friday, June 29, 2007


One never knows but at least one can stay entertained. There's a lot of ranting railing peeling and pooping about the culture we have somehow derived. But has anyone considered, it is the most valiant? I bought a painting tonight. Because, in part, the artist (and I had deduced that between bathroom breaks he is an artist), described it as, the paint "is thick." Pardon me and you probably need to, but that is freaking brilliant. There are two piddly things in my piddly universe. One is, I like paint. So crucify me for an object loving hedonist. Yes! The other is no bullshit. "oh I did this painting because of a sunset that happened on a day when my dog died and I was 12 and I had my first kiss." Save my piddly from such dribbly.

But I have, relunctantly because I love to complain about the world I am not succeeding in, decided this culture is the best. Has anyone else thought that? Look at it. Given the circumstance. We as a living organism are effectively on death watch. Dunno about you, but I don't see a fabulous future. Because of some wierd creature organism hangover from a more ignorant time we expect something like at least 10 kids a generation will read Middlemarch. And we are appalled (and I singularly am) by the fact few read, and the number reading Middlemarch has dropped to 8. (Forums are addictive, you've gotta rec that, LOL!)

Don't key in on the name "Paris Hilton," but think instead of a damp smelly twig poking out of the water and sluge on a flood plain. And we, as the primordial muck of a prehistoric phasmortigation (?) reach for... our forearms distended with the effort of survival and hope... fingers seperating in deliberate aim and desperation... we... the culture at large make the last flailing grab for... Carrie!

Ah man. One never knows does one. But at least, one can stay entertained. And the shop I bought the "thick paint" from is

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Who Knew

Who knew, indeed. But what I was going to blather about is the state of... well. Finances. Bleck. Today I discussed life with the manager of my local bank branch. Weelll. maybe not life in general but an overdraft or three and I am guilty. You see, life is way to complex. I didn't expound on this. Instead I brought up Gisele Buchanan and Tom Brady. You see, I read that GB earned 150 million and TB earned 30. Million. Last (one) year. And one of my overdrafts involved a $30 penalty on a $1.25 charge. Geeze. (I think I represent the amoeba of this story.) The local branch lady was nice and understanding, the bank person downtown who bizzarely kept hanging up the phone was less understanding. (What would Freud have said about her relationship with her phone? WWFS?)
I really don't think I misremembered the $150 million... and not even for a cure for cancer. or AIDS. Infant mortality is on the rise in Mississippi and a lady (I'm sure she is a nice person) is paid $150 million to walk around in a bathing suit. Now paying TB 30 mill.... well, go Pats, what can I say. Geeze. Like, win? My $30 penalty + TB's 30 million = three beers during a Pats Super Bowl.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Its the Hands

I think this post originated with my viewing earlier today. His rug of hands on a piano, title of the piece, "Just Shoot the Piano Player." So when I felt compelled to take a picture of a wax and I of course had to hold it... the hands stuck out. But its the piece! Carved wax, particularly carved swoopy wax... it is erotic... No doubt about it. Art in all its pure and unpure forms... is erotic. But there are those hands! Have I stumbled upon a metaphor of the universe? Religions seem to like hand stuff... is it an inadvertant recognition of the metaphysical disjunction between the pedestrian image and desire? There is some disjunction there and I ain't no John Donne. I be a simple carver of wax and drinker of beer. Cheers.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Not a Baudelaire

Whenever one is contemplating the stupidity of ones fiscal choices in ones life, (you can see the orgins of my "ones" post), Baudelaire is useful. Frankly, I feel that if anyone can achieve the originality and conceit of Baudelaire, stupe on, as it were. The guy is beautiful. A hero, without a doubt. So when I was fussing over a new batch of photos the title appeared intrinsic with this poor bastard child of Picasso.... Not a Baudelaire.

Saturday, June 16, 2007


This small fish was carved out of wax and cast into sterling silver. I consider him my good luck guy...

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Regarding the NFL Patriots

Who cares. In the background I'm listening to NPR cerebralizing over blogging. Now, I have read some fantastic blogs. And forgotten every single one (no not really but I have a point to make). I don't forget reading Tale of Two Cities while in Quito, Equador, or talking about Steinbeck with some CRAZY Canandian in Panachel, Guatamala. There is some great beer in Guatemala for all you NFL fans. And in Fiji. Man do you guys got some traveling to do....
As with all those cell phone crash drivers, I've taken up one neural track with another. How to listen to others while talking to oneself.... (present difficulties referring to...
Who cares.
I do re: Pats. (that's the title, anyway) I wanted to vent about Randy Moss. What I want to say, to me and the keyboard, is. I don't think individual desires and society expectation can ever be factored out. Simplified, shut up youse guys. Look at it. Do all families have a black sheep or do all families need a black sheep? People respond to expectations. There is something way to facile about how we deal with one another. I've heard it said that if you enter the public forum expect the the pubic discourse. But. If I were to say anything to RM I'd refer him to a blog I caught a few weeks ago talking about deliberate practice. A blog, mind you. (by Friendsvangard..? just to help out any anal retentives out there.) It was talking about success, and practice, and what made for success. Bottom line, if you want the touchdown do it all the time. Practice delibrately.

However. There's the individual thing and the organizational thing. Psychology. Whose playing footsie and why. I think the Pats played footsie last season. This season I expect them to go all out. Kinda like redefining the line. And RM? well. um. I wish the guy well. The videos I've seen are great. Pure talent. He is an artist. Its just, the deliberate practice thing. (Wes Welker apparently read that blog.) And how can any individual with a sense of self ignore massive BS? It'd take a Zen master. Hey, RM....

And another Pats thing. Regarding TB, our incredibly sucessful QB? His self absorbion? Give it a rest. Like, who do you know says all the right things all the time, and who isn't self absorbed to some extent? What contorted value system are we holding athletes too? (or not to for that matter). He is not, from what I've heard, more self absorbed, than 90% of the folks I know and I don't want to know the other 10%! Geeze people. You're paying him to win, and he and the rest of the Pats do that very freaking well. Quit nit picking. Were he to be involved in dog fighting I'd say call out the....

Anyway. Good night and buy more jewelry! That is, (Other jewelry dosen't count. We're going for the touchdown here...)

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

My House

My House. This House is a very very very fine house. What were my thoughts when I started on this image? Really now. Do people vocalize internally when they are into a form? I think not. I think its like infatuation. You can rationalize later, but frankly, you're along for the ride.
Good night.

Monday, June 11, 2007


This post is in response to a few questions received and the, ah, times we live. And the art we produce. And the visual statements made. The communication inadvertently, or not so inadvertently, created.

I'll start in flashback mode. (You know, one of my frustrations in life is in not being the author of a Tale of Two Cities. I totally disagree with the folks that say the best has been written and therefore... I know I can't set the scene the way Dickens did, or rant like Faulkner or Baldwin, or hallucinate like Joyce... But that won't shut me up. No way man. As a pugnatious 2 yr old kept telling me once, "no way man no way man..." in a high pitched and determined voice.)

Getting back to the flashback... years ago... how many won't be specified... I took a light metals course at a prominent art school. During this course I watched fascinated as a fellow student cut the feet off of a cheap rubber duck and cast them and call the product "her"earrings. It never seemed to occurr to the artist that in fact a sculptor had made those ducky feet she was now appropiating and calling her own, unique, art. Actually, I'm not sure she cared enough to think about it. Because, what she did, is not unusual at all. Its seems totally acceptable. My crossed eyes and silent retching is the oddball reponse.

I can think of 2 theories about this. One is that there is a whole lot going on, some good, some not so good. Linking in with my second theory: the flashing billboard syndrome. People (not me, but those that don't have bad backs and fat rears) can run fast. But. Traveling at the speeds we do today...(and how quaint those words will be 50yrs from now... another billboard flashing by)... what effect does that have on our ability to absorb and perceive depth in images and information given. How does the speed of travel effect our critical facilities? Are our perceptions tunneling to flashing billboards?

I think I'll leave that rant there, coasting the car to a stop in a weed choked driveway. Who said "I yam who I yam." Some cartoon character? Getting back to charms and THIS IS MINE. I make my own stuff. Butt. (referring to my running abilities again.) Butt. (oh dear oh dear). I am within a tradition that I respect and enjoy. Charms are "a cross between a power amulet and a security blanket." A quote out of a book on charms, titled "Charms," oddly enough. I make hearts because I like to make them, and they remind me of a lot of silly and very human stuff. Bees? I haven't made one yet but I will. I will make one because I used to catch honey bees in my hands and let them go. People may, or may not, buy bee charms. But if they do they will do so because of how it looks, what they think of when they see a bee charm, or because bees charms are considered lucky.

I'm sure my making charms is all E.D.'s fault. '"Hope" is the thing with feathers-' Without her I'd be casting rubber ducky feet.

A couple of wonderful and original shops to check out at BiscuitOfDoom and Evod.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

In the Pursuit of Happy Endings

In this post I will link Paul McCarthy, the Great American Health Care Industrial Complex, and the NFL. Hah, you say. Well, we're all in this life raft together... let's drift. (The Great American Health Care Industrial Complex will henceforth be referred to as the GAHCIC.)

Getting back to the title. See, all problems, or some of them, or those that I pick anyway, can be linked to time. The other day I heard a fragment on NPR about how "the pursuit of happiness" had a different meaning when the consitution was written. I do not remember, if I was even listening, what the time relevant meaning of P of H was. My pathetic brain stopped with that one realizaion. (one at a time, please.) You see. It does make sense. P of H never did. However, the misunderstanding over time has morphed into an odd thing. Pursuit of Happiness....

Now enter Paul McCarthy. Not to be used just as a Google spasm, he (again on NPR. I do enjoy NPR... the beauty of it is an aquired literateness without having to open a book) said this a.m. something about "Happy Endings." Was it a song title? dunno. Another brain fart occurred. (my brain does beans.) Did he realize the beauty of that phrase? Possibly. I mean, well, you know....

And the NFL. I'm rooting for the NE Patriots. And one reason? I really hope this is not totally true but the pain of living requires me to at least sit in this well cushioned chair and admit... they win. I remember the season Brady started doing his thing. Or at least, his QB thing. Though I'm sure he was doing other things too, but I digress... The team suddenly started to look interesting. Stuff (football) happened. Good bad though mostly good, happened. I don't know enough about football, I just look at action... and the scoreboard...

And getting back to the microchip implanted in my bean fed brain... NPR, that is. On "Only a Game" this past Saturday a pro B-ball player talked about how he didn't understand 40 yr olds painting themselves green and black and taking sports so seriously. He doesn't get it. Maybe as a player he's not aware... He doesn't have this need...

Its all about happy endings. Paul McCarthy said it right. In that one phrase. with DARFUR. The Bush (that is his name, right?) administrational debacle. Global Warm Poop down. Health care.... GAHCIndustrialC. Is it the warping of a time that created misunderstanding, or is it a human need? Maybe, the misunderstanding came willfully though subconsciously through time.... We need a happy ending therefore we saw the P of H as our right....

GO PATS! The NFL (or at least rooting for the NE Patriots) is like weeding. It's a mindless activity that one can succeed at. (all NFL folks just... you know I had to say that...) I won't paint myself. Really. But whether it is good... not... it is like that little bird E.D. mentioned (see I did read in 3rd grade... introducing E.D so early robs her of the P of H link)...

There was this book, Rollerball. Where in a world corperations ruled, there was this sport rollerball that was vicious and committed and occupied the masses totally. I do not link the NFL and today to this sci-fi story totally (GO PATS)... but I wonder... I want a happy ending. Frankly, we really are in this life raft together. (Steelers fans, okay. No Colts.) I still pay attention some, albeit in a cringing way, to the political train wreck (an old metaphor denoting an unstoppable destructive force...)

I even liked Brady's Snickers commercial. Good night.

Friday, June 1, 2007

Jewelry jewelry jewelry

The title brings to mind some old image of a movie where a middle aged white guy is banging with a gravel dispensing justice. In a suit. He's wearing a suit. And the justice is good and right and you feel good and right and there's no static in the image. The good guys will win. And you can go to bed and sleep well thinking good and right stuff is being done. Man. What is with reality. What is with this country? What is it like being a 17 yr old and not even having a glimmer of an illusion of justice? I mean, I know its an illusion. But it is a FREAKING IMPORTANT one. With such illusions we develop standards. And with standards we try harder and expect more. In fact, we hope. Constitutions are written on the basis of such stuff. Humanity defines itself that way...
or not. Look up Genarlow Wilson. Georgia.

I began this posting to announce the opening of a stoney charms store on The title got me sidetracked. I found out about Wilson the other night. There's a petition to sign. I signed it, thinking of the anti-war petitions I've signed. Ah, hell. What a way to announce a store! Ya'll come visit now, ya hear?

Monday, May 28, 2007

Void filler

This is a rumination on whether those with cement psyches can indeed dance, given decent music and enough beer. Speaking as one who occassionally feels at the bottom of a mixer as when a cervical disc (bulging inopportunely) computer ignorance and financius desperatus conspire against healthy negativity and scepticism, warping it into a slow silly what the hell like would another mocha really break a broken bank? Or a mango smoothie.

Society would have it that addiction to pain meds are to be feared (though why bother when acupunture's such a trip), while frying all reason under the fat car wheels of steroidal arrogance like mindlessly migrating pinheads. (thank you Jon Stewart). This is the society after all that elected Bush (that is his name, right?) twice. All bets are off. Sceptisim is not just a viewpoint, its a necessity that can't quite stop the slide into the black swamp of blatant irresponsible stupidity helpfully created by defense contractors under the guiding hiss of whats-his-face Cheney. The effects of others' bad choices cannot be ignored in a world where you can't avoid their music. Or their lack of music. Or their bad timing (and planning and thinking...) Or their tone deaf hatred of small animals, birds, large animals, sea creatures, kids, the future, peace, and hope... all things requiring a healthy enviroment to prosper in. Fear is a sickness sterilizing the soil. Anti-enviromentalism and fear politics go gloved hand in gloved hand.
Besides, this cud chewing cement sickie is into wine. Save that last dance...

Sunday, May 27, 2007

New Peace Pendant, again

This is a new version of the New Peace Pendant. (Peace being always a work in progess.) It is handcarved wax cast into silver with an old bead embellishing it.

Friday, May 4, 2007

Friday, April 6, 2007

Silver Smiles

Handcrafted sterling silver earings.