Other arting

I've used this melamine plate as a palette since we moved here in '93. I was dazzled by the Nam Dae Mun farmers market. Aisles full of food that, for the most part, I couldn't imagine eating, but the inexpensive cookware, dishes, cutlery, and gadgets were like catnip. 

Today I upgraded a piece of dry wood to a walking stick. Or a shillelagh, or wizard's wand. I do very poorly with canes. Trip myself and lose them. A shoulder-high stick helps my posture and mobility. This one should also keep trolls at bay when it's finished. 

I need beads and bells.

This venture was inspired by the King of Wands.

An inner spiritual change is often heralded when this card appears. The King of Wands invites us to act as he would to solve our problems. His vision is one of ideal reality, and his vision is that humanity might always be better than it is. He is the warrior of light who stands up for something that matters, and his appearance is an invitation for you to do so as well. If there is a cause you wish to support, but you are unsure of your position, you may proceed with the knowledge that your base of power is strong. Enjoy the King's power and authority, but be sure to use it for productive means. Take your responsibilities seriously, think of new ways to do things, and never stop believing in yourself. (J.Rioux)

art by David Palladini

 

We were missed - updated

 

Back from the country, the cats spent the day letting me know they were peeved with my absence, but Charlie's brief visit was welcomed. He is warily gentle with them.

They have a pair of guinea pigs now, but I don't think they have a lot to offer beyond learning how much care goes into keeping caged animals safe and healthy. 

He wants to have two cats, but that is not my call so he gets to enjoy visiting with mine. 

We spent a lot of time talking. He wants to know what life and the world were like when I was his age. We are time travelers flitting back and forth between now and then.

Home now, I have a weekend to breathe and relax before I get back to the adulting stuff.  Since I quit the day job,  I find it's good to pay attention to the weekend otherwise the days all run together.

I'm not getting out enough and will have to attend to that. 

Georgia's gray and wet winter is delivering. Chores out of the way, I chill. 

Moments after I typed this, Jake called asking me to come fetch him and Charlie. There had been a  wreck. Everyone was cleared by EMTs on the scene. His truck looked pretty bad. I got to them in a half hour and waited there for Missy to come take them the rest of the way home. Life turns on a dime.

New pov

Before any wayfinding, the starting place ~ gratitude.

This instant? Grateful that this ancient Win7 Acer booted up and gave me access to the only graphics program I ever spent any time learning. PSP5 still gets my banners done! 

But a warning to me to not allow skills to rust. Stay busy with a wider array of tools and objectives.

Do you think that banner is a sunset or a sunrise?

the need for change

We pulled over when we saw them on the hill.

 I  rolled down the window and honked out a passable donkey "Howdy!  They left off snacking and trotted right up to the fence. No reply but, the swiveling ears. I dub them Colorado and Maine.

The first week of winter break behind us, I'll have a long weekend at home and in the studio, then back to the county.

Change is in the air. I'd make a list, but that's the kiss of death. The things I've been thinking will come to life. 

Meanwhile, I'm spending this evening with Stanley Tucci looking for Italy in all the damned kitchens and restaurants. In Umbria, a squadra of women hunt boars.

 

Christmas, ever bitter sweet

 

A deep dive

 

I

I watched "Maestro". I'll wait a while before I comment on the film.

  

    We spoke once. 

     How many of you can recall how rich and immediate a human voice could be on the phone? Real phones connected by wires and switches of copper presided over by women. The Operators.

 

It was a dark early winter evening. I connected a call somewhere in Manhattan. Three rings and a woman answered with a curt "Yes?" I sensed a secretary annoyed at having to work late. 

    "I have a person-to-person call for Leonard Bernstein," I pronounced it exactly like the caller had. 

   The woman said, "Who's calling?"

   That was none of her business because she wasn't Leonard Bernstein and this expensive service would not start earning for Ma Bell until the man himself was on the phone, but I had to be businesslike about it without being snotty. 

    "Is Mr. Bernstein available?"

She got the message and clunked the handset down.

   I knew who he was to a point. In 1969 I had little musical interests beyond Led Zeppelin, Santana, or the Stones. I had never heard his voice.

  

   "You got me out of the bath. This better be good." Wet or not, he lit a cigarette. His voice was thick and sexy.

    I went pro. "Mr. Bernstein?" 

 "Yes, my dear, put them on but I'd rather talk to you."

    

  How full of snappy comebacks do you think I was at twenty? Zip.

   As trained, I evaporated. Closed the switch, wrote down the time to the second, slotted the punch card, and took the next call. Smiling. 

holiday shopping - not

 

I went to the post office yesterday. Madness! You'd think they were giving away gold bricks instead of making you wait an hour to cough one up! I might go back in a day or two when people give up the illusion of stuff getting where it's going in time for Christmas.

As of today, you won't get any from me in time for Christmas gifting, especially this one which just might slither out of the inventory basket into my own stash. Devil, get behind me.

There are plenty more here and here.

😎And just now, something new. Fancy Bags until they are all gone.

Peace for a moment

It was too cold to go meteor-watching last night, but this was worth the chill. I read that the full moon falls on Christmas this year. There will be better shots.

Jude is a 'fluencer. 

Feathers are everywhere.

When I got home, I settled in to see the last season of the Crown. There was a lot of weeping, while I faked away at these feathers. 

Years ago I pulled swan feathers out of my imagination. This time I came up with feathers from some rough customer. A Harpy Eagle, maybe. 

l'audace

Liz very kindly intuited that this piece was needed at home and I'm very grateful. It's hard to put a finger on all that has changed since I made this one. Much and little.

The part that interests me is that I never loved this piece until it was gone. My mantra during most of the construction was, "Now what the fuck?" Large pieces will get out of hand in a heartbeat if you let technique have its head. Constant control over the design is exhausting when all you want to do is fall into exuberant color beats, make warp and weft go organic, and cover the thing with stitches. 

I have a very large starting point and cast of character rolled up in the closet. Large enough that I'm considering building it with the machine rather than by hand. Either way, I'll be clearing off the design wall soon. Get it underway. 

I can't swear at something until it gets real.

 I wonder if anyone noticed that I cannibalized the unresolved "Firmament" for this one. I lost my way with that one. Summer of 2013. 

                                                                                               

I had all good intentions of getting outside for a few steps, but when this old throw (fresh from the washer & dryer) came out from under Bailey, I noticed it was coming apart around the edges. And Lo! I happen to have a cone of thread that was very close. 

l'audace? I was listening to a foreign movie last night when I fell asleep. It's been a long time since I dreamed in French. Tonight, I'll find an Italian film. 

There was a haircut. Really. Chunks all over the carpet. 

I just didn't go far enough, YouTube videos only show DIY haircuts by young things with stick-straight hair. I had to improvise. 

As dealt

 Choice, chance, and/or change. 

 Maybe I haven't been around enough to know if this is an original layout. If anyone recognizes it, please clue me. 

Regarding no particular question. (Great way to wiggle out a story, isn't it?) All you need is the gift of gab, a Master of Bullshit, with minors in Woo-woo and Sociology. A quick read:

A loss or setback is easier to take if you're not the victim but the instigator of the change. Be open to anything and everything, but guard against overindulging physically and emotionally. That hollow feeling the day after the party only gets harder to shake.