Grateful...

 ...to have been on the ground floor of a new obsession. I can't teach him anything but the basics. Thank goodness Jake is a patient teacher, the interaction wonderful to watch.

 

There were a lot of questions for Google because I never really played, just had an idea of how it was supposed to go. Play makes me tense and sweaty and I've lost five of six games most often because I forgot the Tiger lurks.

Rules, history, tradition. Culture. It's like visiting another planet.

Charlie Tuesday

 

Yeah. It took my breath away to see what he's going to look like as a young man. 

I have a lot of opinions about AI, not many of them good. I'm already seeing reader backlash against authors using AI to make book covers. Readers are making the assumption that what's going on inside those covers is also AI-generated and some pretty rank tripe. They are right.

As for image manipulation, I've been using computer graphics editors since you had to load your computer's operating system from five floppy discs.

In the 90s, I became a master of monkeying around with images using free programs that, with a little bit of hacking,  were every bit as good as the ones people paid hundreds of dollars for. (Does anyone remember warez and catching malware from going there? I do.) I still have a laptop that I keep for the sole purpose of running Paintbox 5 by Jasc.

The AI editing feature in Messenger, which I stumbled upon by accident, offered these enhancements to the pictures I took.

 I can draw the line there and not mess around with anyone else's images.

The details

 One or two a day. Pressed, backed, and sleeved. Picked over for cat hairs and cooties. The mountain will be moved a teaspoon at a time.

We will not discuss that the fancy label is upside down as I reconsidered the orientation. 

Spirits call

 

Really, muse?

It's 1:30 in the morning. 

Was it the wierd dinner? (A big bowl of cantaloupe chunks, pomegranate arils, topped with broken gingerbread cookies)

Maybe saying goodbye to Littlefeather? My Singer Featherweight has been languishing too long. As part of my Reconnection project a perfect destination was revealed. We'll be at FedEx later today. 

(Open yourself to change. Come down from your walls. )

Maybe it was this. I finished Vigil today with the intention of letting it go (if chosen) to the show and beyond. 

This was the piece I worked on during Jim's last weeks. Sweetie here is gone now as well.

Today marks twelves years without Jim. I take comfort in the knowledge that I've still had more life with him than without him.

Restless, strong spirits remind me of the business of life. Push the Wheel. 

States of mind

 Some are deeply concerned. 

Others have no fucks left to give.

Confounding the auto-wankers

Using up mostly blank pages in an old notebook just to spite data scrapers.

The chaos continues.

Now that I have an idea of what the exhibit space is for the show in January I have to choose a very small handful of pieces to offer the curator of the show.

I've unrolled a couple of these and thought, "What the fuck was she thinking?"

 And a few others have lifted my spirits and flown me away.

This is my Swedish Ivy, unhappy about having to come inside now that winter is here. 

 If I'm going to do this notebook thing on a regular basis I'm going to have to work on my penmanship. And I apologize. I just felt like annoying some data scraping program with an image that can't be parsed.