Fumbling Flowers Flailing Frustratingly About

I wanted to make my mother a pin for Christmas. *a bit late, I know.* Generally, flowers just aren't my thing. Dunno why. Their images just aren't in that portion of my brain that engages my hands and makes stuff. But, my mother is into flowers. This is my first attempt at a pin for my mother... and I'm not too sure about it. The green wax that I carved would be cast into silver. The stones that I laid on top would probably be peridots in the finished piece, should I finish this!

I can already see what I want to do differently. It takes finishing something up to this point sometimes to figure out the problems. Hopefully I'll finish up the re-do.... soon!

You Go Guys!

And Merry Christmas too. Wes Welker gets the penalty? so freaking what. That snow angel was a nice snow angel. Anyway, it gets my vote. If the Pats don't make the playoffs? pfffffft!!!! They do know how to play well and make snow angels. 'tis the season. You Go Guys!

Pics and Drips

I haven't decided whether to publish my website or not... Not sure if my lack of enthusiasm is due to this monster head cold, the weather, proximity of Christmas... or if I just really need to read a Rex Stout murder mystery and fuggedaboudit. Here are 2 pics I took... from under my porch cover as the weather dripped coldly.

Merry Holidays Everyone!

Here's a video... shared by teegee... that just cracks me up. Best drinking song ever. Well. If you think you know a better one, lemme know! Its by the Gaelic Storm.



Now I must make a comment about the New England Patriots football team. They are showing off. Last year everybody thought they were running up scores. My response was... they had some records to crush. But its this year is where they are really showing off. Its a contest.... how many key injuries can a football team have and still win. By the fourth quarter in Sunday's game they were out (from back in the season), starting QB stud Tom Brady, safeties Rodney Harrison and James Sanders, of the three starting defensive linemen they had one (Wilfork and Warren out), linebackers Thomas (very big loss) and Bruschi and Woods were injured, and rookie CB Wheatley injured (he was a starting CB at the time of injury.) That's just defense. A serious portion of the season was spent with the top 3 running backs on the team out... leaving Ben Jarvis Green-Ellis who I will maintain they picked up because of his name. (He was an undrafted free agent rookie.) Thankfully the guy is a pretty good ball player, along with a great name.

So. The Pats are showing off in a very disgusting manner. Where is the outrage? Where are the Hate-riots? Where are the gleeful commentators with serious facades lathered on pronouncing that when a team is playing 2 linebackers who have been back on the team less than a week the Pats should... just... kneel the ball. Really. Where's the respect I ask you.

Favorite Foods

Avocado, mango, olives.

Hot fresh french bread insides, and crust. In that order. Cranberry walnut bread. Cranberry walnut buttermilk bran muffins. Thick french toast with butter and maple surup. A short stack of buttermilk pancakes at 1 a.m., after dancing, when 19 years of age.

Tofu mushroom loaf and barbecued tofu. Spinach lasagna. Spinach soffle. Lightly stir fried spinach with soy sauce, louisiana hot sauce, garlic onions and red red wine. Spinach salad, spinach pizza and spinach ravioli. Carrots. And of course, carrot cake.

Herbed rice (the kind with a bunch of different spices that fills the house with scent.) Fried rice. Brown rice. Hot white sticky rice that clumps. Dahl. Vegetable curry. Mango chutney. Mexican Chipote seitan.

The cherry pie that my grandmother made. Apple pie. Pie crust with cinnamon sugar on top, baked when making pies. Cinnamon toast. Cinnamon rolls. Lattes with cinnamon on top.

Hot fudge sundaes, when 16. Chocolate chip cookies with nuts. Brownies. Minty chocolate chip frozen yogurt. Chocolate. Also, chocolate pecan pie after dancing, when 21 years of age.

Super Supper that my mother made.

*thanks mlh*

Workspace

Just thought I'd show off my at work, work bench, before I run off to it this morning. What I like about this bench is the tray, which has sides to it. This makes for a convenient setting spot, which as you can see I always need more setting spots! The bench is more messy than my one at home, due to not having a enough stuff storage and others will occassionally borrow tools from the bench. And, well, I'm a bit messy. The bench pin is a bit wiggly, but, that only annoys me sometimes.

Applause for Ms Chubbs

Here's The Amazing *slightly* Less Chubby Ms Chubbs, who has endured months of dieting to shed one pound...

And a picture of a ring. I may list this for sale... dunno. Its a simple 14k ring, a yellow gold twist between 2 white gold bands. I thought it would look rather fetching on my little Buddha. I bought the little Buddha a few years ago, not because I'm into Buddhism (the reincarnation deal really isn't my thing), but i just liked his attitude.

Low Points

I'll start off with the high points first. I was going to call this, "Sometimes you loose," with particular reference to my cat, Ms Chubbs. She has lost a pound. I think its official now. Its gone beyond the wondering whether I'm weighing her post poop. If she lost a few more I'd be happy, she'd be healthier, and maybe she could clean her own butt. But even one pound loss is a victory.

Another high point was Moss' catch with 8 seconds left in the New England Patriots game, vs the Zets. That was a total Moss moment. However, not sure I want to write more, and therefore remember more, of that game. *I'm not a particularly good looser.* And besides, as I rushed to catch the last half, ducking out of a nauseating irritating computer class to do so.... Well. Suffice it to say, it was a full moon night.

But the low point I remember of the last half of the game? There was that amazing snap that resulted in about a 15 yard loss, I seem to recall, as I grabbed a beer. But what I didn't like, and was a major low point, was watching QB Matt Cassell yell at Big Ben Watson after he dropped a catch. Frankly, that was more painful than the dropping of the catch. And not very nice. I'm trying to not draw Brady comparisons, but I've never seen Beau Brady do that. Never. Which is one of the things I like about Tom Brady. Today I watched a bit of the Steelers game. And saw Rothensberger talk with a receiver that just dropped one of his passes. He wasn't yelling. *Yelling is uncool.* *Someone needs to tell Cassell that.* *Hey Cassell, yelling at your receivers is uncool.*

I was going to include yet another pic of my cat, The Amazing Less Chubby Chubbs, but she's being modest. Maybe later.

Change Is Tough

(Well, in football it is. I read about the end of the salary cap after the 2009 season, and I don't know. NFL franchises are money making machines. And in the past, players have not benefited from the money stream. The retired players, with health problems, did not receive the health care or financial support from the game they helped develop into the popular sport it is today. The players do make money now, but not as much as is first reported. A guy can get cut after 8 games, after being signed for 70 million. To me the success of the New England Patriots has been a perfect trifecta of good owner, good coach, and good quarterback (and team.) How you divie up that money pie I don't know. I hope it gets resolved for the benefit of all. There should be enough to go around.)

This brings me to the nation situation, as it were. With the financial implosion going on, jobs hiding where I can begin to find, and home foreclosures of record setting levels to where the "American dream" resembles a wild west ghost town, in fog. How hard can change be? CHANGE IS TOUGH! Jeeza loui-za peoples. Tuesday night even after Ohio and Penn went down, I couldn't believe. I didn't, and still have trouble wrapping my mind around it. Jeesh.

Not only did Americans elect the first African American to the presidency.... he's got a funny name. (Sorry people, but Barack HUSSIEN Obama? Next to your Smith or Jones, or Washington or Jackson...) The American people chose possibility and hope over fear and stereotypes. Obama had a massive amount of money that I only wished I could have donated to. *I did buy a t-shirt!* But he needed it. He needed a freaking bulldozer. He had lots of sh*t to plough through.

But the American people stepped up. I'm still amazed. I'm watching the Pats (vs Bills) right now, seeking grounding or something.... so maybe I can blame the tears in my eyes on a football loss. But those fools are winning. You just never know.

Awww..... man.....

Call me a wine hearted filo dough encrusted *pop tart* of a fan. Call me a beer enjoying barstool warming fried potato evaluator of a fan. Label me the far left (Left) restroom pointer t.v. dissin' loud mouthed rookie cheering hopeful of a fan. Whatever. I left tonight with 2 minutes and 14 seconds to go. But I gotta tell you, with as much emphasis as my severely distracted pinko commie light bulb hating pop tart of a liberal self has left.... (which you know there is always extra emphasis left for whatever arms raised shocked face and attention drawing yelps are needed should someone drop a candy wrapper on the sidewalk, in the middle of the day, in front of my ever crossed toes....)

I have got to say, plainly, or as plain as the signals of life are after encountering the convoluted energy sapping agenda confusing politically stumbling thought numbing time of electioneering when the under employed of us stand unfortunately idly by like "whazzup?" I have got to say, admitting to whatever wrong headedness that has messed with my karma bringing me to this point like the shaking of a wild bird's egg in second grade to see if there was something in there.... killing the small life inside with the clutch of my curious self.... I have got to say....

They did good. Those damn Pats. Tonight.... they lost. But, the Brady-less New England Patriots football team have finally won my heart. Cheers guys, a game well played.

My Wobbly Website.... and Shadow Shot Sunday

I'm still working on my website. If I knew how to do stuff better it wouldn't be such a struggle. Like, not knowing much about computers is a bit of a hinderance. As well as not owning any of the programs. I think, though, its yet another instance of my mucking about psychology. (Couldn't resist that link.) I seem to have an innate fear of easy living or something. Whatever... such subterranean motivational impulses of stumbling incompetence and beer grabbing incoherence are way too deeply buried, and kinda boring anyway. My baby Website should be launched sometime in the next millennium.

Here's a collector's card I had made up months ago.... (In print it really isn't such a shocker of a yellow.)



And here is a SHADOW SHOT SUNDAY! On Sunday, oddly enough. I feel like I intruded on someone else's staged scene...

It's a (W)rap!

I don't get into political posting much. Because, well, ya know. Punditry, except for the barstool intelligentsia of the occassional Patriots football game, just isn't my thing. But this video? It cracks me up. Every time I watch it. 2 folk singers rapping. Lol!

Fall Has Arrived

Its official now. What with my anxious hovering over my tomato plants... hoping the last couple of reddish ones have the opportunity to mature (and get tasty) before frost hits, and the Pats finally convincingly won a game. Okay... Denver's defense stunk. *I think the Denver defense got confused and went to Foxwoods (casino in CT) rather than Foxboro (where the Patriot's stadium is.)* And their quarterback injured his hand on the first play of the game.... but I'll take it. I'm sure all New England Patriots fans will take it. I'll even shut up about QB Cassell for at least a week. He didn't run into anyone this game and that is progress.


Above is a fallish looking shadow shot, taken while walking in Boston Commons.

Aww.... poopers.

I totally admit... I like winning. And, I'm getting cranky. I haven't yet been elected Leader of the Free World and Coach Bellichick of the New England Patriots hasn't sought out my sagacious advice. But I'll help him out anyway for the small compensation of a box seat at the Patriots home games next season. (Please, not this season.)

See... the Patriots are flying from San Diego back to New England. This is what they should do. At the airport there will be a lot of confusion... bags and what not. I'm sure the New England Patriots have more than a few large duffle bags full vital equipment... like the cloudy contact lenses Cassell (QB) wears so he won't see open receivers, the "drop easy" oil used on receivers' gloves on the off chance a ball is thrown their way, and a few pair of double left running shoes just in case things actually start moving or they find themselves on the 1 yard line with 4 downs to not convert in.

So somebody... Rodney Harrison might be the guy to do it... says to Cassell (after he's dumped out all the double left running shoes which wasn't too fair as Morris is fantastic and the "drop easy" oil can stay as the Pats receiving corp is still great even with that challenge)... Harrison says "hey buddy." And after the stunned silence lasting 5 minutes during which Cassell's cloudy contact lenses adhere slightly to his wide eyes and he realizes Harrison hasn't wedged a football down his throat, Harrison tells him how Brady thinks a lot about stuff. Harrison tells Cassell that if he wants to morph into a Super Bowl MVP he should climb into this small dark space... that that will help him think and Cassell will emerge truly Brady-esque complete with cleft chin and modeling contract. And Cassell climbs in quickly partially due to his cloudy contact lenses and wanting to get out of Bellichick and Harrison's sight and an enhanced desire to do anything that would help.

Harrison should then quickly switch tags on the now full duffle bag for a piece of luggage going to Timbucktoo. Nah. Send him to the Jets. Farve will either not notice Cassell lurking in his locker or might even offer him a beer. Or the Caribbean. Cassell seems like an okay guy but I'll leave his destination up to Harrison with the request to please be nice.

Brilliant, huh? I'll even wear a funny hat in my box seat next season.

On Gray Matter

Or rather, Combatting Brain Fuzz

This morning... afternoon really... but morning so it seemed I made muffins. No it was in the morning. Definitely. But whatever the clock was doing I made muffins off a recipe I've done a few times and after adding the milk (soymilk) looked down and thought jeeze. It was supposed to be 1/2 cup and I added 1 and then saw no, it was 1, and

Brain fuzz. I could blame the condition on school or the economy or the first colorful touches of fall.... I could identify with the worms that don't seem to know where dirt is and end up on pavement. Once you get past the squishy slimy image.... the term "gray matter" for brain works. Having gone back to school, I've been thinking about thinking a lot lately. Contemplating tree growth is one thing, answering questions on a test is something totally else. And grayness has an ill defined edge... it peters out into the vastness of the surrounding universe like the edge of light in a city night.

And it occurs to me while running for the train yet again, as my modus operandi for life seems to dictate in a vague subconcious hope of exercise motivation I'm sure.... It occurs to me that political elections could be a dream sequence within the 4 minute standard of youtube consumption with the candidates standing by a horse race finish line as the pounding of powerful forces surge by into the fog of a non-delinieated future. Just a thought. Not yet asked for on the slips of print smeared paper that grade abcense of pain as well as visual acuity and mental desperation.

Paper that assigns values to words created within the past 10 to 20 years like figments like "hyperlink" properties count, yanked from its root of ancient greeks in tunics writing core stories whose images linger... like the child holding a prism up to the light, turning it slowly, watching the colors live. Prometheus light...

"In the Myth of Syphysus, Camus ended it with the vision of Syphysus on the coast, watching the sea. He'd defied the gods and traded an eternity of damnation and rolling rocks up hills for one perfect day on the beach. And Camus asked the question - was it worth it?" *quote*

Shadow Shot Sunday... on Friday

I've been admiring everyone's Shadow Sunday pictures.... and finally took some of my own. With a cell phone. My first pics with a cell phone!



They are taken from the ICA in Boston... and the last one was taken of the floor right before the front entrance. I thoroughly enjoyed the museum. Oh. And it wasn't my cell phone... since I am the last person in the U.S. without one.

One and Done

I have decided. To cure all the world's ills elect me... leader of the Free World. *At least I don't slaughter animals from a helicopter!* And I will promise you that, besides solving all the worlds crisises... including competently eradicate world hunger, unemployment, housing foreclosures, wall street greed and the skulduggery of lawyerly and banking 3 piece suits. I am totally committed to making illegal 3 piece suits.

There is another thing I will promise from the depths of my frustrated heart.... That a team that showed such promise... *music here... violins and a young girl voicing hope in soaring notes and endless intervals...* Despite the hero down *violas... cellos... a bass drum roll...* Besides promising clear skies independent energy low mortgages reasonable wages AND anyone that wants a Hummer will be forced to drive one as fuel cost climb past six bucks a gallon... *Because no, I won't pay for bullshit...* But what I totally promise is....

Quarterback Matt Cassel won't get another start. For the New England Patriots, that is. Send him to San Diego. Tell them he's a running back of great potential. (hehehehe.) Or better yet, send him to the Jets... tell them he is a fantastic linebacker. (hehehehe....)

I don't usually do this? But events have driven me to it. I must speak out. In the interests of a peaceful Sunday brew. And it is on such small moments a greater peace is forged. In the interests of human kind find a better solution. Figure it out, NE Patriots, and win. Or man will I be cranky.

Oh no.

Its all Belichicks's fault. To be fair, there is a lot on the guy's mind. He's thinking X's this way, O's that way, and a few F's thrown in for the Freck of it. He doesn't have time for the G's (good luck charms).... specifically.... When I was getting ready haul my blubbery rear down to my favorite bar stool... located on the left (Left) end of my favorite bar... I contemplated a lump of silver. I was thinking about the difficulties inherent in a good luck charm. And how, good luck charms sometimes are something found. Or something that comes with history. And you risk, introducing a good luck charm into the mix it not being the right charm.... but merely a lump of silver that you kinda like when you are in the mood.

And my hurry-up-your-blubbery-rear-the-kick-off-is-about-to-happen thought pattern continued, if I wear my hopeful gargoyle*.... the fellow I haven't grabbed a chain for yet.... and something happened? Not having my pick up truck joy riding gargoyle would be a neutral. And, the last thing I'd say in my defense is.... the Pats should have won by 30 points anyway.

Here I'll point out.... the obvious. TODAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH, 2008, IS THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2005 THAT TOM BRADY, QUARTERBACK FOR THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS NFL , HAS NOT BEEN LISTED ON THE INJURY REPORT BEFORE A GAME. My little gargoyle ain't nuttin' against such precedence.
**************
I will wear Monsieur Le gargoyle for all future games. I promise. And I suspect Brady will be on the injury report for a while. *choke* Also, I can't really speak to specifically what happened... I need to be able to sleep tonight.
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(must also warn the reader (or 2) of my site that I am now taking some courses in quest of a paycheck. And may be even more sporadic.)

Cats for Pats

I made this little sketch... You see, I think the New England Patriots (NFL football team) need to update their logo. Instead of the Flying Elvis.... how about a cat? and... instead of red white and blue... throw in a bit of pink. You know, in that cute headdress between the white star on a blue background and the white feathers... fade out with pink.

GO PATS!

A Fun Guest Towel

I bought this as a present... first for a young relative. And now I'm debating on whether to send it to my sister. My sister just bought a house, and this does crack me up.

Wouldn't that be a fun house warming present? Its from Recycled by Hyena's shop on Etsy.

My Town... is a Town of Fine Metal

Here's a wax of my latest ring...

Its a wax I carved... I'll get it casted into silver this week. (For the model... which is then used for a mold and more castings.) I've been trying to make a house ring for a while. This is the sort of conundrum I run into when someone asks about how much time does something take. Its like... how much time it takes to finish something? How much time does it take for something to succeed? or how much time does it take to become a famous wealthy (I'd skip fame for wealth any day) jewelry designer? I like the house shape. It started in some drawings I did a couple of years ago. Last year I made these earrings....

(Which. I'd switch out the earwires were I to list them again.) A couple of months ago I carved one "house ring" which bombed. I never casted it into silver because... well... I liked the idea but it wasn't there. The "house" needed more company for a ring. I'm pretty satisfied with its latest incarnation.... more of a "Town Ring." After a couple of years of thought... earrings... one bombed wax drawings and numerous sketches... I still don't think is all that is because there was something in the first "house ring" that interests me so we'll see. But then... I'm the sort that does not edit out fragmented sentences... the thought... the process.... is always going on....

Self Portrait Thursday.... on Friday

Eh. I'm always a day late and a dollar short. This is a who's sillier looking contest I'm having with Beth. I think she'll win. I of course look totally dignified even with mallet poised. My dust mask is perfectly intact and as yet unsullied, my eyes full of... mmm... detail enhancing lenses, my bench... empty but.... ah... inspiration heavy! You can note the grace in the dangling rubber thingie, Brahms is playing on the dorky headphones (maybe sometimes... like in my dreams), and the perfect I-am-so-in-control glance I spare the camera (from my diligent poising.)

Ah Beth. I'll cede the silly contest to you. *hehehehehehe...*

Rings and Things...

This is an update on some stuff. The two rings are the "Sleep Patterns" ring and the "Cluster Pod" ring. (I went with GirlSavage's name of it.) (I highly recommend visiting Girl's blog... she's got some incredibly cute ferret pictures posted.) The Cluster Pod I'm just going to size on a request basis. Its too much of a mess to clean up after casting to try and sell much of! And I'm still sleeping on the other...

Trash and What You End Up Doing

This mask, of sorts... is probably not finished. I used to make masks... of sorts... and hang them on the wall for respite and reflection and perspective then rework. Now, why I am making a paper mache mask at this moment I only realized the other day. It started with pulling out some stuff I hadn't even looked at in a while and thinking hmmmm. And fixing up an old piece for hanging... drawing a troll... and then came the mask. It took 4 or 5 days of such messing around before I realized... its 'cause I have another jewelry model making job (working for someone else, part time.) This is exactly what I did last time I worked as a jewelry model maker. I did other stuff. I'd come home and just could not sit at the bench. Well. The "vacation" is over tomorrow!

Along the sides of the mask you see those small plastic things? A few years ago I used to go landscape painting in a cemetery nearby. I'm not a very good painter... but landscape painting is a way of going for a walk and looking around really really well. Its nice and fun. This cemetery is beside a river and there is where I collected a bunch of those little bitty plastic things. Some plant up river was dumping, or had dumped, all this trash in the river. In a way the small bits of color looked pretty among the shore line's residue... If you didn't think about the environment, that is. I figured some day I'd find a use for them.

UPDATE! what can I say. The saga goes on... though I'm promising myself no more messing around for a while!

The Good, the Bad, the Hopelessly Brewed.....

I don't watch the New England Patriots games at home.... I have no T.V. and no interest in figuring out on-line possibilities. I watch the games in a bar. To me, the noise of football games and bars do well together. Tonight I was down to my 3rd choice of venue... the Olympics striking out the first (and best) place... the 2nd was closed (?), and the third was a reintroduction to the way bars usually are. One screen showed the struggling Pats (!), and I sat there next to an older guy that had a voice in search of a dysfunctional hearing aide. By the end of the night, need I say, he'd bought me a beer and I gave him my opinion of Cassell (second string QB.)

The first part of the night I tried plugging up my targeted ear as I watched the Bradyless New England Pats.... why should Brady(QB) not being there affect the defense? But then things got down to why I like(d) to watch pre-season football games. Football seems to be a mix of personnel, management, and coaching. Preseason brings out the personnel part of it. You get to see the subs. And usually I have rookies I'm rooting for... though the ones I'm rooting for this year seem to have already made it. Particularly Mayo and Crable. But watching the Bradyless Pats was a beer inducing phenomenon.

Or I used to speak up for preseason games in that way. Now? Right now... nope. I don't want to go to that bar again. Football players aren't getting a game check for the preseason games... though they risk injury in those games. And rumor has it Brady will not play in the preseason. Whether this is due to Brady... or coach Belichick copping an attitude who knows. The owner Kraft is supposedly lobbying for a restructuring of the preseason. So. My guess is Brady's sore foot is Belichick's kicking ass. Or maybe he's saving Brady's shoulder for the season. Or maybe Brady will have a sore foot all season long. LOL! Well. As long as they start kicking some ass!

*you know I bet that's it. Brady will have a sore foot all season long. Belichick got tired of reporting Brady's sore shoulder and wants to expand the possibilities. Or maybe he got a kick out of how reported Brady's ankle was before the Super Bowl. I want to buy the book some day. But those 2 guys? they'll never write it.

Go Pats!

Peace is a Happy Troll

*text will be added when I get around to it. Or not.*

New Pretties

Here's some pretties I made for a client. I wanted to show them off and haven't gotten a flickr account... yet! I just... how many passwords and accounts does one life need? Someday that's how the obituaries will read: Ms Shoeworthy died, known on MySpace as Vapor Shine, Facebook as Ephemeral Lady, on Flickr as 2 D Dame, on the Bloggoshpere as Emma Posting, on Etsy as Hope Listing, and with the Boston Herald Sports Comments Section as Ima Still Mad. The government knew her as Ms Taxable, the banks as Hiya Risk and the assorted job attempts as Better-Luck-Next-Time, LOL! The three active e-mail services knew her as CyberSal, AnnieInternet, and T, respectively. Cause of death was identity overload. Unfortunately there will be no burial... a body was never found.


I'm not real happy with the photos... of course. But they were fun! It is the chinese woman symbol. I carved it out of wax, its been molded and this is a 14k yellow gold casting. The pendant is teeeeeeenie! But cute. Cute can be teenie too.

Politics

The absorbing politics of sport, I hasten to qualify. I appreciate Brett Farve. Having watched him for less than maybe 2 quarters his entire humoungous career.... I can appreciate him with a clear and biased conscience. You see... nothing has buried New England's Spygate quite as efficiently as this Bacholerette episode. Every day I click on Yahoo's NFL and the New England Patriots aren't on the front smear. Yes they have decent odds of going 16-0 again. (I would plead clemency... from the base of my dirty fingernails and never-was-in-fashion T-shirt. Patriots? You do that again and you WILL owe me a beer. Kraft, listen up.) And they even have the best odds of winning the Super Bowl. (Last I looked... and I quickly averted my eyes.)

But I'm excited... in a quiet let's-just-sneak-up-on-them-this-time type mode.

I enjoy watching the pre-season games. Though, this being Red Sox nation also, its sometimes difficult in a bar this time of year. Last year I was psyched... I had my rookies to root for... hoping they made the team.... I wowed at the new offensive weapons and would wonder if Moss could really be that good. This year is different. I do have rookies I am rooting for. But more... I hope the team does well. I hope... that... ya know... maybe there's still some of those 19-0 T-shirts available in South America. And I could do with a free beer. A new shirt? Last year's model is fine.

And to start the pre-season... To start a season that recognizes the glory of not worrying about, for a few hours (hahahaha) every week, life details like war and work and automobile repair. To not worry about the much more violent politics of the political kind, healthcare reform and environmental challenges. To instead focus on the fine art of fandom... and its related beer consumption. Here is a video (I switched videos after looking at some of the comments! perhaps it will help explain football a bit! lol!)

Politics

The important politics of sketch books, I should specify. Wikipedia, "Politics is the process by which groups of people make decisions." And the first photo demonstrates why I can use the term group. My invaluable assistant, Ms Bird, has the pencil under control though not yet filed under a work bench.

I've never asked how others manage their sketch books. My impression is some folks can be organized with their sketches... and I think that's nice. I'm not. I have (I think) 6 working sketch books that go back years... what happens is. I'm thinking about something... so I start sketching but need another page. If I turn the page I won't be able to refer back to what I was doing... and if I tear out a page I'll lose it. So I open another sketch book. (I tend to open them to some random blank page.) I've thought about starting a file of loose sketches... but. How crazy can you get, really. This morning after flipping though a couple of sketch books looking for a few blank pages to stumble about in, I decided a new one needs to be added to the mix.

Here's an important bunch of sketches I made recently.... ;)

Cruising Groove and Crossed Fingers

He's my guy. There's something about a gargoyle riding a pickup that I think can help me out. I'm into good luck charms. I'm into not stepping on sidewalk cracks on my way to watch Patriots games. And crossed fingers and braided hair while watching.

I'm into positive projecting... carrying my umbrella so the sun will shine.

I try to avoid the number 13 except when I can't. And then, I hope to make it my favorite number.

But there are those days the body the mind the culture of survivance can't propel one into the day like a figure skating olympian. And for those days... those cold grey lump of metal days... Those days of irritation and clumsiness when "right" is an uncooperative hand. When the mesh of existence is a loud whine of an unoiled machine and music unwanted collides in a cacophony behind you. On those days nothing works. Nothing is good. They are tight box days that stack themselves in the consciousness like a wall.

For those days I've got my gargoyle riding a pickup. And no, I don't wear him. I created him.

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Two notes. I've started a new part time job. And. I have displayed the pickup riding gargoyle before. Its just that recently I've been thinking about wearing him as a good luck charm. Maybe for the Pats games!

Self Portrait Thursday

Etsy has a self portrait Thursday... I think. Might have my days wrong on that. But, here's my attempt! Must say though, I'm not pregnant! just enjoy my brew! My legs might not be quite so long or my feet so small but a bit of idealizing is okay I think. That's why I'm ice skating in a tutu in July!

Plastic Chairs

Nothing says waiting room quite like linoleum and plastic chairs. Having spent 3 chunks of my life in the past week in these surrounds... I thought I'd express my disenchantment with motor vehicles. (It is amazing how the price of a car repair increases over the estimate by a factor of how many time chunks are spent in plastic chairs. This includes whether nothing was actually done (second chunk) or successfully done (first chunk.)) Though to say disenchantment might be putting it too grand, since I only owned a car for 1 year before I was about 32.

This reminds me of a conversation with my mother, of course. She said why don't Americans just conserve. And I'm like, you mean, spontaneous, without overwhelming necessity, the formerly fattest nation on earth go on, essentially, a collective diet? (I say formerly fattest, as rumor has it the Austrailians have overtaken the U.S. in obesity. Can't we be #1 at anything anymore?)

Maybe diets at the policy level would work... I mean, energy conservation. I don't know. I would not mind never ever driving a rattling money sucking time wasting space occupying oil dripping air polluting resource depleting monument of solo consumption again. That is, if there were a more convenient way to buy groceries.

*regarding this video... apropos of nothing, this was in my head while waiting. If you listen, it will be in your head too. ;P

Name It!

This is for entertainment purposes only... an important purpose and reasonably achievable. Well, I'm easily entertained anyway... I promise kudos to anyone that comes up with a name. How about smooches? Usually when I make something the name and the thingy go to the goal line together. Sometimes the name changes, but, whatever. This odd fellow is in the model state *unnamed.* Being a model, he isn't polished or antiqued yet. (No liver of sulfur yet which would bring out the forms.) Here the poor unnamed one is....




Here's a very nice response from itselemental. And thanks to everyone else that looked and made suggestions (in the forums)!
itselemental says:
His (Gollum) one desire was to possess the ring that had enslaved him. He pursued the ring for 76 years after having lost it to Bilbo Baggins.

During his centuries under the Ring's influence, he developed a sort of split personality: "Sméagol" still vaguely remembered things like friendship and love, while "Gollum" was a slave to the ring and would kill anyone who tried to take it. In The Two Towers, Samwise Gamgee named the good personality "Slinker" (for his fawning, eager-to-please demeanor), and the bad personality "Stinker" (for obvious reasons). The two personalities often quarreled when Gollum talked to himself (as Tolkien puts it in The Hobbit, "through never having anyone else to speak to") and had a love/hate relationship, mirroring Gollum's feelings for the Ring and for himself.
(from Wikipedia)

"Gollum's Obsession"
----------------------------

Well. I'm thinking that's very flattering... but maybe too grand. hmmmmm.....

My Inner Sitcom

I don't watch sitcoms... don't own a T.V.. But sometimes it does seem like there is an inner need for silliness that without a proscribed outlet (such as T.V.) life will mimic absurdity at the most inconvenient of times. *sigh* Like the other day.

I'd a couple of job interviews lined up. The first challenge besides getting out the door was finding the place. Okay I should've used google but I thought I knew where it was in my scribbled on one page notes kind of way. But it was on WEST Exchange St.. Not Exchange Street. I went to Exchange St downtown... WEST Exchange St is a few blocks away... does not touch Exchange St, nor does it run parallel or perpendicular to it. I found it by asking a couple, a court official, at the post office on Exchange St. and then a limo driver (who was on an unlabeled unsigned WEST Exchange St when I asked him.) By running I arrived only 5 minutes late to an empty office.

The day proceeded from there. Honest, I need to win the lottery.

And the next interview was one of those times when you've forgotten the tape recorder you didn't know you needed because nobody in their right mind would believe the slush being uttered by, well, me. I need a fall back joke list like any struggling comedian in front of a reasonably intelligent mildly judgemental audience who finds you less interesting than road kill. *I do prefer to laugh than to cry even if I'm the only one in the room doing it.*

Now to follow my logic which may, actually, make more sense than New England roads... if I owned a T.V. I'd have a job! Yikes!

Let's Dance

This is the "Where the Hell is Matt" video that everyone but me has seen. It makes me feel good every time I watch it, so thought I'd repost it here. My favorite is the Demilitarized Zone section, and the Fiji one. But they're all cute. I'm posting the standard quality version, the higher definition paused too much. For the pictures, I'd also recommend putting up with the pauses of the higher definition.
Cheers, mates.

Butthead the Wonder Cat

Butthead was an amazing cat. He could read. (I must stop here and laugh. I've told this story many times. Some people don't know how to take it. They're like... is she serious? My response is I'm as serious as I can get away with being. Only if that's not too serious or disrespectful of Butthead's awe inspiring abilities.)

I've got a lot of books. I'm not sure how many... but let's just say I have 70 Rex Stout murder mysteries. Before writing this post I would have said I had over 200 books and 40 Rex Stout murder mysteries. Having just counted the one... I'm not going to attempt the other. (Bibliophilia is an inheritable trait. I'm sure one day they'll find a small snickering corner of the double helix that is responsible, in its twisted way, for bibliophilia.)

That's just to give you some perspective on how I know... my cat Butthead could read. Because, you see, there were only 2 books he ever puked on. We lived together for over 15 years. Those 15 years spanned 7 and a half residences. (yikes!) And one small period of living out of my car. (Which was more due to my ineptitude at living logistics than fiscal difficulty.) He was such an easy cat that I became too comfortable with having him roam about... until I stepped on a cat rather than a brake pedal while out apartment searching.

And the 2 books he puked on? And in not just one spew, I must point out. This happened at 2 different times separated by 6 months.... 8 months... a year? I totally forget. (You know how it is. You think they'll be around puking forever.) It would be dismissible if he'd gotten them both in one spew. No, my cat Butthead nailed 2 Vegetarian Cookbooks on distinctly separate missions, thus earning his place of honor in the kitty cat Hall of Superiority forever. R.I.P., Butthead.

The Old and the New

Thought I'd post a couple of jewelry pictures. When looking for some gold scrap for Raven's ring, I rediscovered some stone setting practice pieces I did in school. I thought about listing the earrings for sale... but pricing would be tough! Its a 14 karat gold basket head with cz's set in them. Cz's are pretty worthless... except for stonesetting practice. I like the way they look though. Perhaps I'm just talking myself into keeping them. The ring has a peridot stone... but I fabricated the ring and the head and am not so sure I'll make another! Fabrication is fun, but I'm more of a carver of things. The Good Luck pendant is just an update on an earlier post. The liver of sulfur really helped it... plus polishing. Hope my young relative likes it.... and I'll also list one for sale in my etsy shop.



*pardon the pics! I had to hold the earrings and ring because the camera kept freaking out.

The Rewrite

I have always felt that with a good editor, anybody's life can be at least vaguely interesting.... Though sometimes it reminds me of cutting away the bad parts of a fruit or vegetable and you keep cutting and cutting and then look down and think compost. My life lately has been more compost than fruit, so I thought I'd do a little proactive rewriting. The unsullied truth is, I make a buck a few different ways... one of which is picking up some evening hours at a department store. Last night Jerod Mayo (top draft pick for the New England Patriots) walked in and bought some stuff with a buddy, whom I think might be Wheatley though I could be wrong.

And now to sully the truth. Instead of being a middle aged lady with bad hair bad skin and bad attitude (I mean honestly, what can be worse than a star struck slob?) that spotted this poor fellow and slipped behind the register just in time.... well. I wouldn't want to edit out that slick move. Or my obvious dexterity with the register. Or my recently elbowed out of the way coworker and her look of light befuddlement. Or even my statement of "cool" when I saw his name pop up on the screen because I like the word cool and always have. Someday it might even come back in fashion. Nah. What I'd change is, I'd leave on one security tag. Black Label clothing has a gazillion security thingies on it... 2 to be exact. One regular and one extra pain. It would've been so understandable to accidently leave on one. Mayo even said "don't forget any!" Apparently this is a part of the Patriot's football introduction routine for all rookies. Don't buzz when leaving a department store! Can't you just see Coach Belichick saying that? I can't, but hey.

Not to pick on the store's security guys but it could've been entertaining. An attempted flying tackle by one of the security guys and Mayo looks down at the desperate clinging to his ankle like "Zup? Drop some change?" Belichick's voice booming over the buzzer's mild fart "Mayo that's it we're trading you to the Zets! You were told NO BUZZING ALLOWED!" And Mayo just sort of standing there, slightly shaking his foot, wondering if the fellow down there was finished playing with his shoelaces or whatever he was doing. And wondering if the Zets are some *cool* intergalactic team before he remembers Belichick has difficulty opening his mouth when he says "Jets" and that he probably means... ohhh NOOOOOO!

Well. Welcome to New England, Jerod Mayo.

The Roller Coaster Ride on Life's Learning Curve

"There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again." I 'm sorry, but if the guy wasn't president... A comedian would pay good money for that silliness. (An old saying in Tennessee...?)

The reason that Bushism popped into my mind this morning was my attempt to remember the old saying about how it seems you know less and less as you get older. I can't remember the quote. (Though I could have helped Bush out...) But, honestly, I'm ready to be an expert in something besides envelop stuffing and weeding. I just made a ring for Ravenwolf and, after finishing I looked at it and thought I'd do so many things differently. Here's the ring....


What I like best are the sides, and Suzanne's SO's emblem. Very cool emblem. I carved the ring out of wax, got it casted into silver, and the emblem is from some scrap 14k gold wire I had. I should have approached this ring differently. (<--- massive understatement.) But, ah, whatever. On back are the initials "R" and "S" with the bottom part of the R and S interlocking in what I hope is reminiscent of a wishbone. Hope it brings her luck!

*the frontal pics of the ring didn't turn out... may add a pic later.*

Jeans

Above is where a basketball hoop is not.

Thursday night I went to watch the Celtics. I walked into town wearing jeans and jeans jacket. The jacket is old, and I think I'm going to have it dry cleaned in hopes it maintains some structural integrity. I dunno. Some things are too good to throw away. But I unfortunately arrived in time for the half, and left during the third quarter when Pierce got injured. It was bad timing. I only wanted one beer. Sounds like it was a great game.

There's a picture of me as a teenager shooting baskets at our house. I'm wearing green pants and a nylon greenish print shirt. (gag.) My parents did not allow us to wear jeans to school though I could buy some for camping. I seem to recall this was the source of a few discussions. Oddly enough, I was not an outcast though all my friends wore regular clothes (jeans and whatnot). One time a sincere girl tried to give me fashion advice, but she wasn't mean about it. (Obviously she was a future advocate for lost causes.) I suspect my junior high and high school were a nerd oasis.

I do believe the wearing or not wearing of jeans has had absolutely zippo impact on who I am today. Perhaps I may be more inclined to do what I want without worrying about it. However, that could be due to my genes and not my jeans.

*I keep thinking on putting up a basket...*

Endurance, or, One Massive Holly Bush

"To increase your success rate, increase your failure rate." (Somebody said that.)

The picture above is in part a past bloom himalayan honeysuckle, my weedy yard, and a massive holly bush. The general area is for the birds. I don't like to trim back the holly much... because that would decrease the winter stockpile of berries for the birds. And besides, what do I care? There is a rosebush on the other side of holly that would prefer a more sculpted yard... or death of a holly bush... But it is surviving remarkably well.

I don't usually watch basketball or baseball. Those guys (and gals) play too much. And since I don't own a T.V. it would involve an awful lot of beer bought in a bar while watching games. Football is one game, once a week, 4 plus (hopefully) months a year. Also, its on Sunday. But out of curiosity and because I've placed an important BET on the outcome and because the NFL off season does drag on and if I read Bellicheat ONE MORE TIME... anyway, I have now watched portions of three Celtics playoff games.

Speaking of endurance. Watching those guys (basketball) run around... Jeeze. Its exhausting. The author of "A Drunkard's Walk Through Life" said in his NPR interview that there was a 40% probability that the worst team will win a best of 7 series. Which illustrates very well why I am not a physicist (as that author is.) Another thing he talked about is the role "luck" plays in success.

I feel quite in sync with the moon phase whatever it is though I can almost promise you its waning and the property of randomness as regards loose change on a sidewalk. Luck, I've got you covered, in silver as it were, and I think I need to increase my failure rate (ah, no!)!

Good Luck!

My High School graduation was obligatory, I suppose you'd say. I showed up. I think the major thing was to stay out as long as possible, and to drink. I wish I'd been more coherent in those days and created some interesting mayhem, but unfortunately I just got the diploma the alcohol and the fatigue.

Here are a few good luck doodads I made for a young relative who is graduating High School. The acorn has the Chinese Fu symbol on it. (My apologies to the billions of chinese who might not recognize my attempt at replicating their symbol!) None of these have been antiqued or polished. (They are models.) Liver of sulfur would really help the acorn in particular, though I don't particularly like that piece. Its casted for future reference or something. I dunno. I just liked the Fu part of it.

The one I think I'll send her is the Star pendant. I thought that fitting for a graduation. And I know I know it will be late! But. Ah. That's life.

Meet Ms Chubbs

A couple of weeks ago I posted the amazing story of Desperate Kitty. Now, meet Ms Chubbs. She was a stray I couldn't find a home for so she stayed with me. She might be related to Desperate Kitty as they showed up in my yard around the same time. Anyway, here's a picture of her as I first knew her.

At that time her name was Ms Little, now she's Ms Chubbs. A total sweetheart... I'll plead distraction on her achieving the Rubenesque proportions she presently enjoys. I just didn't notice her extra pounds so much... *she carries it well*... as I had the drama of another cat dying... plus I've never had an obese kitty before. Yep. Insufficient excuses, but they are all I got. Here is a picture of her now....

My theory on her lifted hind leg is she is airing out her rear. She can't reach it to clean it, so she sits with one paw up. What's funny is... when I took her in? She had poop hanging off her rear. (TMI, I'm sure.) Just goes to show the child is father of the man... or cat...

**And yes she's on a diet. She does seem rather attached to her voluptuous beauty though... as it doesn't seem to be going anywhere!

That Boilermaker Feeling

The image of dropping a shot glass of whiskey into a pint of beer occurred to me while standing in my bank's parking lot. Perhaps that is why people drink Boilermakers.... It must be the congruency to life that so implodes their reason and quickly embalms their thought. Can't imagine that they do it for the taste! I enjoy beer and I enjoyed whiskey too much one fall but I've not had a boilermaker before...

That sinking shot glass full of whiskey type feeling... Exiting the bank I drove to the local community college to enroll in a course. Well, to embark on a certificate seeking course. (I am a seeker of certificates.) There are 2 turns to be made after you exit the highway, one at the end of the exit and another at the first intersection. I managed to make 2 wrong turns going there, and one coming back. I hope such brain fuzz is not an indicator for the success of this newish adventure!

When searching for a boilermaker picture I found the Hillary Clinton one. What I like about it is, her eyes are definitely crossed.

In Support of Global Warming "Alarmists"

In general I do not engage in political or enviro-political debate. ;0)... I'd rather have a beer. And, if you think global warming is all hooey and the 99.9% of scientists that have their panties in a twist over it are all wet, then there is nothing I can say to change your mind. I don't even want to try. Watching dust would be more entertaining. But... there are a couple of things. One is the picture above which I kinda like. (though it isn't the one I was looking for!) The other is I'd like to say a couple of things in defense of those poor pantie twisted scientists.

First off, Galileo was a long time ago. Remember that guy? The one lone fellow that stood up and said "'sup... this joint is ROUND," or words to that effect and the Catholic church got all huffy. See, my theory is... it was all a conspiracy. The Catholic church and Galileo were in cahoots to create the most perfect metaphor of all time. Doesn't it fit perfectly now? Hah. Told you so. I might not be able to convince you what the pantie twisted scientists of today are wringing their hands over, but I can enlighten you about the first scientific scalliwag, the first deceiver and scumguffin, the master metaphor maker himself, Galileo.

But, those lab coat wearing test tubers of today and their strident warnings... Look at it this way. Let's say that the 99.9% of scientists are wrong and there is no global warming. Its all sun spot frolicking. But, being the socially oriented individual that you are, even though you doubted the GW alarms you've gone along with the program. And you end up with what? Less money, for sure for sure, but also a clean and healthy environment with a sustainable energy source.

And now we look at the other side... say those scalliwagging pantie twisting lab coaters are right. And you, remembering the example of that first scalliwag Galileo dissed their efforts. What do you end up with? It won't be just the scientists that end up all wet.

"Death Be Not Proud"

I have a problem. Well. More than one perhaps... as neither my nose or butt are as diminutive as my bank account... My cheeks and world view only achieve rosiness with artificial assistance... My Saturday nights are as exciting as a successful toilet flush and my ability to get a job is about as effective as my cats' ability to catch birds from inside the house. (Not for lack of trying!)

But the problem I am addressing here is dental work. At one time I likened dental work to evidential mortality... Somehow bringing in the idea of teeth and skeletons and death.... Tooth loss being one less thing to leer with from across the divide. But it has been maybe 15 years since I've been so... philosophical. Now its just pain I evaluate. I don't think I have much fear of death... but pain? I am a total wimp with pain. Maybe that is what people are referring to when they bring up fear of death. Give me morphine when you give me death, is all I can say.

My jaw just does not go sufficiently numb. I would pity my dentist if I had any pity left over (from myself).... as I sit like a slobbering insect splayed and impaled with a dental tool. Particularly today I kept thinking of that movie Marathon Man. I'm not sure if I've seen the whole movie... I don't remember what the movie is about. Just that one scene has stuck with me and probably with others also--- Dustin Hoffman cringing in a chair under the assault of a high whine.