You Go Girl!

Girl Savage, that is. Her shop, along with a few other etsy.com shops, will be featured on The Martha Stewart Show this Friday, February 29th. I thought I'd stage a little preview of my own. Here are 2 sold items from her shop. (Sold, because it seems stuff doesn't last there long!) The shop is girlsavage.etsy.com


Fun, huh? Now, I associate Martha Stewart's Show with car repair shops. I don't own a T.V., and the only place I've seen that show is when I've gotten my pick up worked on. In the mid-ground is Martha Stewart hanging from the ceiling doing something, in the background is my pick up on a lift, and in my hand is a book. Last time I took my pick up in the book was titled "American Fascists" by Chris Hedges. I'm trying to remember what time of day that congruence occurred so I can go find a T.V. somewhere Friday. GirlSavage's father is thinking on taking off work to watch this Martha Stewart Show... isn't that the cutest?

The First Annual Shoe Box Award

When I decided, desperately, to go into business for myself, some of the books I read said a mentor is needed for success. I don't have a mentor. I don't have a mental image of a mentor. In fact, I was not sure I have a hero or even had one as a kid. But then I remembered... that shoe box, kept in the closet, stuffed with my grade school poetic attempts. Emily Dickinson was a hero, of course. What kid wouldn't respond to "I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you-- Nobody-- Too?" That's pure candy to a young ear. Also to bring in a Frog. What genius.

There's Rillke's Panther to T.S. Elliot's "I grow old, I grow old, I wear my trousers rolled." That phrase still rattles about in my brain sometimes when I'm thinking and walking home. Generally I don't know much about the personal life of the poets, Baudelaire being an exception. With him I think of his poetic concept, and his decorating his Parisian apartment in opulence on borrowed money. There's Catallus, Ginseberg's reading of Catallus, Shappho, Frost and Yehuda Amichai and his

"Not the peace of cease-fire,
not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb,
but rather
as in the heart when the excitement is over
and you can talk only about a great weariness..."

That guy is pure liquid to the soul. Wildpeace. Then there's Bishop's Fish and Silverstein...."If I had wheels instead of feet/ And roses 'stead of eyes/ Then I could drive to the flower show/ And maybe win a prize." And no rambling is complete without Li Po (my favorite ancient oriental inebriate) dancing with the moon and his shadow and writing "only good drinkers can ever gain real fame." Ha! That says it all.

I have a bookcase now... no shoe boxes. I even burned my old stuffed shoe box years ago. It was rather anti-climatic. And not regretted at all (truely bad stuff!) I did it outside, and had to keep stirring the mess as there was too much paper. My advice to anyone thinking on doing such a thing... use starter fluid.

So the first and probably only Shoe Box Award goes to Emily Dickinson who with her poetry established an immediate and personal link through which others' words would also flow. A big round of applause for my hero, Emily Dickinson.

You Gotta Have Heart!

New rings... the Eggy one I've shown in wax, now pictured in its latest evolving state, a silver model. I was going to put a colored epoxy enamel at the base of the eggs... but gotta think about that some more. The heart ring would definitely have epoxy enamel around the heart. Geeze... what color should I use?

Reality Time

Well. Its no walk in the park that's for sure unless the park has poison ivy and chiggers. One thing I've heard about global warming is... poison ivy and ragweed are supposed to flourish. Why don't they just say the end is near? Really. My last bout of poison ivy left me puffy and drippy with the blinds drawn and memories of being a kid with this stuff... aren't you suppose to out-grow it? I finally dug up the offending mega poison ivy root from the side of the house and felt victorious and in control doing so.

The above is in some side ways reference to I haven't done my taxes yet. A pesky bit of living task that seems to increase... with global warming so it seems in odd congruent fact. *sigh* This year is a... mess.

So I went and bought this print from wondercabinet.etsy.com. It won't help with my taxes or global warming or help with my ragweed allergy. But I adore her detail and form. Her work seems very meditative... like there is a parallel universe she is giving a glimpse into. And it is a fascinating glimpse.

Tree Ring, and Eggs

The green is a ring that is almost finished, carved in green wax to be cast into silver. I might use a bit of enamel with it. The silver ring is a finished master model that was originally carved into wax. I have some recasted tree rings... they still need to be cleaned up and liver of sulfur added to bring out the forms. I just got impatient and decided to post a picture of the model. Plus I wanted to see what the eggy wax one looked like. Sometimes seeing a picture of something I'm working on gives me a different perspective.

Exercise, Toots!

In those boxes are a recumbent bike E that my mother says I can reassemble myself. She really should know me better.... But I am so thankful to have a bike... even if its in a box.

I'm not much of an exerciser. Years ago, I'd go jogging at dawn. It really was nice to watch the sun come up while jogging.... but. My back does not like jogging anymore and I haven't seen a dawn for some time. So the way I have stayed a little bit in shape is to ride my bike on errands around town. However, last spring I developed a neck problem and that ended that. (An aside: The U.S. health "system" is twice as expensive as the health care system in any other country. All other countries have some form of universal health care. People claim that universal health care is too expensive. How does half as much equal more? I missed that math lesson. I understand the cost of upfront money... I face that every time I consider buying 1 or 4 rolls of toilet tissue. But really... you gotta take care of sh*t.)

There are 2 main reasons I want to stay in shape. One is, I don't like buying new pants. 2 is, I tend to take public transport and also tend to "run" late. The funniest transport link was the over 1 and a 1/2 yrs I dragged my sagging rear up to Boston. I rode a folding bike the 8-10 minutes to the train station in Providence RI and 5 minutes to the long day at the other end. The folding bike has small wheels... I'd have one coffee cup in hand and one in the bag as I frantically pedaled my middle aged self though the dark streets ZOOMING by the convention center and up the hill grabbing my bike and racing down the steps to jump on the train. You can see why I need to stay in shape.

I went to visit my parents this past Thanksgiving.... and had to run to catch the airport bus. Of course. When I told my mother about my desperate race downtown... she related how her and a buddy were catching a plane at DFW (Dallas). The security check delayed them so much my 70 something mother didn't even put her shoes back on but ran though DFW in her stocking feet clutching her shoes.... and missed the plane anyway. I'm looking at her like geeze. Its never gonna stop is it. Only thing is, I'm going to start missing the planes trains buses. Its freakin' genetic.

Flesh Colored Kaleidoscope

(That is what is seen when sitting in a well lit room after drinking too many beers while watching a football game (!) and holding one's head in one's hands... you can see out through the cracks between the fingers and admire the way gravity is keeping things relatively still.)

They say a parent giving a kid a pet is giving the kid their first lesson in heartbreak and loss. Weelll. So goes some football games. The Patriots, honestly, have been pretty near perfect in their opiate-like status. I am rather shocked at how bad I felt. It is just a game.... but no it isn't. With Super Tuesday and politics and global warming and the economy... I wish I vicariously held the euphoria of a Super Bowl win. I'm experiencing withdrawal right now. Man. That Pats locker room must've been a mess. If I were to write a post game speech for BB it would go something like this:

"That was a sh*t tough game. We lost. We lost after playing the full game with everyone doing their part...... a grueling game after a grueling season..... (the ".... " is for BB to ad lib hopefully better than I.).... The most extraordinary record breaking season I have ever witnessed, and am proud to be a part of. You are not perfect. We are not perfect. But you never stopped playing you never stopped... and we are pretty damn good. Thank you for the experience. See you this time, next year, this time we'll get the trophy."

Oh BB can mention that the Giants played well if he must. And I'm sure he would give a much better speech. The only locker room speech I remember is one a basketball coach gave our team before a game against Mountainburg. She said "Mountainburg beat Westfork." Westfork was the only team that could beat us. We went on the court hyped with fear and blew them away. (Well, I went to the bench, hyped with fear...) After the totally lopsided game in which even I played, the coach said "I lied."

Why the New England Patriots Will Win the Super Bowl

THE reason the Pats will win the Super Bowl is NOT Tom Brady's efficient targeting Maroney's explosive ball carrying Moss' scoring dunks Gaffneys clutch plays Harrison's accommodating interceptions Mankin's beard Neal's goatee Samuel's paycheck OR Wes Welker's... what's that called? When you try to tip something over and it keeps springing back up?

It's none of those. No. It's....

"The team (Patriots) prides itself not only on scoring the most points ever this season, but also on having the lowest wait time for women’s restrooms in the NFL."
http://blogs.bnet.com/harvard/?p=201

Yep. The Pats will win. Sorry Giants fans.