My New Living Room

With two days off, I decided to enlist B's help in coming up with a design to renovate my living room. It's needed a re-do for at least a couple of years now, but I was initially reluctant to turn the focus away from his current work in the aero-space industry, because he enjoys it very much.
Apartments can be so cramped, but I think this does a wonderful job of opening up the space; creating a really dramatic and inspirational area for me to write in. I appreciate the fact that B was so willing to re-employ the skills he learned in his former career as an architect to help me realize this dream. A case of Bollinger is definitely in order to show my thanks for a job well done. Next up: B removes my appendix. Blindfolded. Is there nothing that he can't do?

Apropos of Memorial Day: "A Reckless Nostalgia"

The other night at B's house, I spotted the newest edition of the London Review of Books on the dining room table. The cover promised an article on the subject of Elizabeth Bishop, my favorite poet. As dinner was cooking, I leafed through the pages and began to remember what I loved so much about her writing when I first discovered it. She lived a somewhat lonely but colorful life (another kindred spirit). Bishop wasn't exactly prolific; sometimes she would work on a piece for years-putting it down for as long as it took for the imagery to finally overtake her and then crafting and re-crafting a phrase until she was certain that it could solidly stand on its own. This is a methodology often applied to the creative process and unfortunately as a practitioner I understand its agonizing effects all too well. It must be perfect or it remains unfinished in perpetuity.

Here is the poem that first drew me to her. A recently-published book reproduces a total of 16 existing drafts. It's probably her best known work, and over the years I've seen many instances where people have appropriated it to validate a variety of self-pitying claims about some of the sadder aspects of their own lives. Unlike those people, I see an incredible strength and durability in her words; a reckless nostalgia for the velocity of loss and how it propels us, the mostly unwilling, forward through time. Here it is. It's called "One Art".

Imagine my surprise when B casually revealed to me during dinner that he had attended poetry classes at UW while Miss Bishop was there as a visiting lecturer and prof in 1966. A little research reveals that she took the gig because her house in Brazil needed a new roof (see picture).

"A 'Forsaking All Others' Kind Of Love"

“...I am engaged to the most wonderful person I have ever met….. she is the love of my life. And because of this I feel it would be best if we didn't communicate any further”

I’ve been carrying the phrase “a ‘forsaking all others’ kind of love” around in my head for the last couple of weeks. Maybe it's a line from a country-western song. I don’t know exactly what put it there; be it an emerging curiosity to know what that kind of love would look like, or the thought that perhaps I have recently experienced a twinge of what it might actually feel like. In the last couple of days though, I think the answer to what it might smell like may have been delivered directly into my in-box.

I live in a part of the country where I am very far-removed from most of the people who have been important to me over the years. Some I’ve stayed in touch with, others have retreated into to the misty environs of my memory. Recently, either through their efforts or in some cases mine, I’ve found myself corresponding with several friends that I haven’t communicated with in years. Once you get the ball rolling, the curiosity about what’s happened to various folks kind of takes hold. Mostly it’s been a good experience, but in one case, it's definitely been an eye-opening disaster.

When I was 29, I was living with a man that I probably had absolutely no business being with. He wasn’t crazy, he wasn’t particularly mean, but we just weren’t right together. The night before I moved in with him he spent the night with a co-worker. (I discovered this on the day of the move). When we broke up, he moved out while I was at work and took my dog. Bracketed between these events, my treatment of him was not especially kind, either. We eventually made our peace and remained friends. Why not? In lieu of family, sustaining positive connections with friends becomes very important. I'm usually not big on holding a grudge. Usually......

Fast forward about 26 years. His wife, a woman he’d met just about the time we broke up, died last year. I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to wrangle a phone number or email address from J, so that I could let him know how sorry I was. Last week, contact was accomplished. We exchanged a few emails. One afternoon when I was home, I decided to call. The conversation was pleasant. He told me about his new home, his new girlfriend and how life was generally treating him well. Gradually, and off in the background, I began to hear the sound of another conversation being conducted simultaneously with ours. Suddenly he had to go. He'd call me later.

The next day, I received an email which contained the quote at the beginning of this post. I was stunned. Hurt. You name it. Then I had to laugh; at least a bit. If the “love of your life” can’t tolerate a sincere expression of sympathy over the loss of your wife from a friend over 2000 miles away, whose dog you crept out of the house with in 1979; then what kind of love is that exactly? Why it's simply one really lame example of a 'forsaking all others' kind of love and I wish them all the happiness in the world, 'until death doth them part'. Whenever that happens however, I will not be placing another call.

I Almost Forgot - Have A Happy Memorial Day!

As of this weekend, once again it'll be appropriate not only to wear white, but also to move your relationship outdoors for a breath of fresh air and a change of venue. ***Friendly Reminder***

Be considerate of those around you. With all of the ambient noise, it sometimes becomes difficult for us to understand exactly what it was that your partner did to piss off your mother this time, so always speak loudly and distinctly. Feel free to repeat salient points as many times as you feel necessary to make your case. Thanks and have fun!

Eau De' Moi

MisterKlean, in an inspired moment, has replied to yet another of my angst-ridden emails with a suggestion for a fragrance that just might turn my attitude around.

The Music In Me

Ever since I got my laptop last summer, I've become a cd compilation-making machine. For awhile I was making one a week, but now I have more concepts than I have the time to put them together and bring them to life. With some of them, it doesn't even matter if they ever get made. I'll sit here thinking up concepts and then making covers all night long. It's kind of like interviewing really hard for a job you think you want. After you get it, you're not even interested enough to take it. It was the pursuit of the perfect job that kept you engaged; not the prospect of whatever deadly-dull work you were going to end up doing as a result of your earnest efforts. For awhile I had a similar "problem" with the art that I was making. I got so involved in making the boxes and the frames for the pieces that I didn't even bother finishing the rest of the work. Constructing the containers meant to hold the images became the entire work and I didn't feel the need to fill them with anything. They simply stood on their own. These are covers from some of the cds that did make it off the drawing board. Yes, every once in awhile I do manage to see something through to completion. If you click on the picture, you might even be able to make out some of my wise-ass titles.

"What Happened Here Was A Miracle"

Omigod........literally. I have a serious pain in my stomach from laughing.
Click here to see the funniest trailer ever made. Thanks, J!

A Shout Out To Saranac

Hello, whoever you are.......
and thanks for stopping by.

Breaking Up With Mr. Peanut

If you're a regular visitor, then you already know about my own problems with this guy. I never had anybody read a cartoon over the phone to me until tonight. It's fun. Thanks, B! Of course I had to go hunt this down and post it immediately. Poor Mr. Peanut. For the first time ever, I feel sorry for him. Even if he did ruthlessly chase me down the street a very long time ago; apparently Mr. Peanut's heart can be broken too, and it's a shame that it had to happen. Just don't come looking for me again, OK? (That monocle....pretty creepy! And for a legume, he can move pretty darn fast). Chin up, my salty friend. Love will come again. I...gottta.... be going...... uh, now.

Soul-Crushing Realization

After today, I'm working six days in a row. Whaaaaah......

It's My OTHER Site - Oh Yes!

In all the excitement of whatever the hell it is I do all day, I guess I didn't tell you that I started another site back in April. Quite awhile ago I jokingly mentioned that I thought I'd do a site called 'Inside Edith's Head'. Well, I actually did. Aside from starting it up, I haven't put anything new on it, but the pictures are kind of cool and I like the pale pink font. Maybe now that you know, I'll feel compelled to work on it a bit.

Relationship Roulette

Actually, it's more like a Sentimental Slot Machine.......

Popular Musicians If England Had Won The Revolutionary War

Nine Centimetre Nails

50 Pence

98 Degrees Celsius

Tha Dogg Kilogram

Kilometres Davis

(McSweeney's, again)

From The Wine Cellar Of John McPhee

Thoughts of having a restaurant have turned my mind to wine....well, not literally, but perhaps my memory is a bit impaired. I was trying to remember the name of a fine New Zealand offering, Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc, but all I could come up with was Hidden Cove and a bunch of other "not quite right" names. In an attempt to help me out, B suggested something like "Obscured Geological Feature", which I thought was a damn funny name for a wine. Tonight we moved on to "Yellow Syncline", which I have re-created here for your drinking pleasure; (B came up with the name and suggested the curious lightening bolt logo). John McPhee is one of my favorite authors and he's always writing about "les choses geologiques". From time to time he'll refer to a rock formation known as a 'syncline', which is a fold in a rock formation that is shaped like a basin or trough and contains younger rocks in its core. I don't know what makes this so funny to me, but it just is. I like to think I send you off with a bit of useful information when you stop by. It's all pure "edu-tainment" here - 24/7, isn't it?

Satisfaction

"Look me in the eye and tell me that I'm satisfied"
'Unsatisfied' from Let It Be - The Replacements

One of the all-time great stories about not being happy with what you've got is Higglety Pigglety Pop! by Maurice Sendak. I love the illustrations because they remind me of the pictures in my mother's childhood storybooks from the late 20's.

"As a tribute to his dearly departed pooch, Maurice Sendak wrote this odd little tale in 1967 about Jennie, a Sealyham terrier who is not content with having everything but must go out in the world to find something she doesn't have. Right off the bat, she comes across a pig wearing sandwich boards advertising the need for a leading lady in the World Mother Goose Theatre. Jennie leaps at the opportunity. Unfortunately, the position requires someone with experience, so she sets off to find it. One hungry lion and a stubborn un-hungry baby later, Jennie definitely has experience, if nothing else anymore, and off she goes to play the leading role in a nursery-rhyme-turned-theatrical-production:

Higglety-pigglety pop!
The dog has eaten the mop!
The pig's in a hurry
The cat's in a flurry
Higglety-pigglety pop!

This dreamy, slightly dark story, illustrated in Sendak's renowned pen-and-ink style, tells of a gluttonous dog's transformation from someone who cares only about her next salami sandwich to one who would risk her life for a weaker being (while still wondering where that next sandwich is coming from)." (Amazon.com)

The Three "Un"Certainties

Just as there are the "Three Certainties".......(March 24, 2006)

Will I ever live by the ocean, write a book and own a restaurant?

Zeno's Paradox - Achilles & The Tortoise

"You Can Never Catch Up."

Zeno was a Greek philosopher who lived from 490 BC to 425 BC. There is some speculation as to whether he formulated his arguments simply to poke holes in the prevailing philosophical views of space and motion as they existed during his younger years, or if he meant them to be taken seriously. My interpretation (to the left) lets you know that I'm still "on the fence".

In the paradox of Achilles and the Tortoise, we imagine the Greek hero Achilles in a footrace with the plodding reptile. Because he is so fast a runner, Achilles graciously allows the tortoise a head start of a hundred feet. If we suppose that each racer starts running at some constant speed (one very fast and one very slow), then after some finite time, Achilles will have run a hundred feet, bringing him to the tortoise's starting point; during this time, the tortoise has "run" a (much shorter) distance, say one foot. It will then take Achilles some further period of time to run that distance, during which the tortoise will advance farther; and then another period of time to reach this third point, while the tortoise moves ahead. Thus, whenever Achilles reaches somewhere the tortoise has been, he still has farther to go. Therefore, Zeno says, swift Achilles can never overtake the tortoise. Thus, while common sense and common experience would hold that one runner can catch another, according to the above argument, he cannot; this is the paradox.

So this is another piece of my work, and it's based on Zeno's Paradox regarding the never-ending race. If you look closely, you can see the tortoise plodding away, off to the right. At the left, the figure of Achilles is depicted on the Grecian urn on the pedestal. The woman leaning against the wooden wheel is either dreaming about the outcome of the race or is simply too tired from dealing with the complexities of her own life and is taking a well-deserved nap in her beautiful garden.

This Time, It's Personal

Geez, now that I've crossed the boundaries of anonymity, why not tell you a little more about me? I stayed up really late last night looking at some of my artwork. This is a piece I did about my mom. After some re-calculating in the wee hours, I realized that she died at the same age that I am right now ("TICK TOCK", says B and yikes, he's right). At 33, she was considerably older than the norm when she had me back in the Fifties. My father was 43. This is the downside to waiting to have kids. A lot of the time you never stick around to see them grow up, which is what happened in my case. My mom was a really smart person. She had a couple of degrees in economics and briefly taught at Ohio State. I never realized how exceptional she was until much later. I didn't get to know her very well, because she was sick from the time I was five and spent the next 17 years in and out of various hospitals. She must have had an incredible constitution, because she outlived everyone else in our family, finally giving it up on Christmas Day when I was 22. Yeah, I know.....very sad. This piece is called "What Would You Do - If All Your Dreams Came True?" It's done in the style of a Mexican folk art retablo, or portable altar.
What makes it remarkable for me is the fact that the image I used is not my mother's picture, but one that I found in a copy of Zoom magazine and yet it is completely her, right down to the haircut and the little bangs. The day I found it, I began work on the piece and kept at it non-stop until it was done. Last night I spent a lot of time just looking at it; thinking about her and the fact that from time to time, I've created some pretty good stuff. Like me, my mother had a lot of unrealized artistic potential. She didn't have the opportunity, and I've spent way too much time wasting mine. The older I get, the more I've come to physically resemble her. We shared the same name, too. By living my life the way that I do; punctuated by these occasional bursts of creativity, I'd like to think I'm doing some of the things that she didn't have a chance to and in some small way I'm keeping our connection intact and alive.

Clarification

This is a picture of Mary Badham from "To Kill A Mockingbird". I wanted to clear up the confusion, because people always get us mixed up even though I'm two years older. We've both been known to wear overalls from time to time. Neither of us appeared on "Hee-Haw". Ever.

Aw Hell, You Already Knew It Was Me

Didn't you?

Spence mentioned that I bore an uncanny resemblance to my Weather Pixie.
He hasn't seen me in what, a decade? And yet.......there it is.

The Struggle To Be Strange

What are my six weird things? After an afternoon of pizza, wine and absolutely none of the promised contemplation of the subject, here we go. What a lame list.

1. I was locked in the Garden State Plaza (shopping mall) until 9 PM on Christmas Eve in 1984

2. I have three drawers of socks

3. I will not divulge the (shameful double-digit) number of shoes that I own

4. I'm the same height and weight that I was in the 5th grade (but minus the braids and the braces - thank god)

5. I gotta include the " chased by Mr. Peanut episode" (see previous posts)

6. I'm unable to fall asleep at night unless the T.V. is on. In the absence of T.V. I count prime numbers backwards and forwards....

I can't possibly subject anyone else to this excruciating level of self-examination, although tagging another 6 folks is supposed to be part of the deal. Nope. You six people over there are free to go. I mean it. Run.

I've Been Tagged- "Six Weird Things" - Coming Soon!

OK. Now I have to come up with "six weird things about me". Thanks for the tag, Peri. I could just post a bunch of spontaneous junk, but I need to consider my options. Let's just say that #1 is....I think too much!

The Bad News That's Brewing On My Block

A couple of weeks ago, B mentioned that he thought the cafe at the end of my block was going to be demolished. I went in search of verification and found it in a back issue of the Seattle P-I. Bummer! The B&O Espresso (for Belmont and Olive, the intersection where it resides), does indeed seem to be slated for extinction. The B&O has been around for 30 years and was one of the original Seattle coffee houses. I had my first B&O latte on the first night of an exploratory trip out here. I was so far away from my home in Chicago and when we stopped in on that cold, rain-soaked January night I didn't know that within a month Capitol Hill would become my new home. The B&O was the place where B and I first met in person one afternoon four years ago to figure out if we wanted to move beyond being merely Internet acquaintances. Its genteel, shabby pseudo-Victorian interior has served as the backdrop to a number of beginnings and endings in my life, and I really don't want to see it go. Where will the next important events in my life occur if not at the B&O? The P-I article states that in its place will rise a six story "mixed-use" building with condos, shops and underground parking, destined to serve as a knife to the heart of my quiet residential existence. Ugh. The noise, the mess, my memories and all the other displaced memories of thirty years of coffee, tiramisu and the most amazing breakfasts; all swirling around to create a stifling blanket of renovation hell which will surely suffocate the charming character of my home as it descends. Will this actually come to pass? I don't know for sure right now, but the thought of it is making me really sad. People are meeting and talking. Impact studies are afoot. Perhaps it's not too late.

First Day Of Vacation

I didn't do a damn thing all day and I feel a little guilty.
Stayed up until 5 AM this morning for some unknown reason.
Posted a bunch of stuff and then deleted most of it.
I think this one should stay for its inspirational quality.

Separation Anxiety You Could Live With

Courtesy of Image Generator.net

"Floundering"

Bush: “I Would Say The Best Moment Of All [My Presidency] Was When I Caught A 7.5 Pound Perch In My Lake”....

Fishin' Accomplished!

Found Magazine

"Strange, Hilarious and Heartbreaking"

I got an email tonight notifying me that Davy Rothbart, the creator and publisher of Found Magazine is going to be here next month to teach a writing class to benefit 826 Seattle.
How could I not have written about Found before? It's based on a brilliant concept; people send in all kinds of abandoned notes, photos, tickets, lists; your typical garden-variety detritus, and Davy publishes all of it on his website and in his magazine. The people who send the stuff usually have some theory about the meaning of, or the back story behind these scraps. The true nature of each discovery is up in the air and open to speculation. When I first heard about Found several years ago, I set out to make myself hyper-aware of any and all discarded things that might be "Found-worthy". To date I've come up with zip. Seattle doesn't believe in the scribbled note left under the windshield wiper, or the letter from Mom left as a bookmark in a library book. Just as Seattle spits in the face of the common belief that everyone here is a bleeding-heart, granola-chomping, flannel-clad hippie ( and believe me, there is NO shortage of spit here.....eeeuuuwww), the notion that Seattle is held in thrall by the written word seems to die in the streets. I'll keep looking, but in the meantime here's an excerpt from Found.

Making It All Come Together

Based on a suggestion from MK.

Uh...........

Those First Steps Are A B#%CH

Just added it up; I've run 19.8 miles in the last 5 days. Shouldn't I be someone else by now........or at least across town?

Spring Comes To Syracuse

Foliage and Mob Mentality Erupt in a Fusion of Colors

From my good friend, MisterKlean. It's a picture of azaleas from the front of his house. MK is the only adult I know who is either responsible enough or foolish enough to be a bonafide homeowner. When he moved in last fall the landscape potential was an unknown, but now that warm weather has arrived his yard is a non-stop surprise party as all of the flowering plants come to life. Another surprise has been his introduction to the deadly-serious pressure of keeping a suburban lawn in a manner that will keep the neighbors from descending with torches and pitchforks as they battle to maintain the "integrity of the neighborhood". That's some motivation I could probably live without. My advice; hide behind one of those flowering bushes until the mob has moved on.

Pour Me Another Glass Of "Stupid"

Peri and I shared a few emails the other night while I was having an existential crisis of sorts. In one I referred to my life within the context of the "glass half-full" concept. I told her that I felt mine was "muy, muy filled with stupid". This is not a picture of my life, however. It's a damn 'cat-in-a-glass', and I just have to ask......Why? It's really giving me the creeps; maybe even more than the roach, but at least the contents of my "glass" aren't quite as disturbing as this. Thanks, Peri! (for the support- she had NOTHING to do with this picture...I hope...Peri?)

Why No, I Wouldn't Mind One Little Bit!

Salt Lake City fashion designer Jared Gold recently began offering jeweled brooches featuring brightly colored Swarovski crystals affixed to a live, 3-inch-long Madagascar hissing cockroach that a woman can allow to roam a short distance around her dress or jacket via a silver chain affixed to the roach's back. The brooch sells for $80 at Gold's Web site. An April New York Post story quoted an animal-rights spokesman as calling the bauble "just the gift" for the "person who doesn't mind a small animal excreting on them throughout the day."



The real irritant for me is that this little twerp has cannibalized the work of my favorite artist, Joseph
Cornell to use on his website. Uncredited.
Grrrrr........Damn kids!

Joel & Mike and Joel & Mike

Hello (1996) & Goodbye (1999) and the difference a few seasons can make. I wonder where they are now?

"We've Got Movie Sign!" - MST3K Remembered

Yesterday I was reading a post on Daily Kos about the "L'Affaire de Colbert" which mentioned both Bill Hicks and Joel Hodgson, two comedians whom I've always loved. As a result, I found myself searching into the wee hours for references to Mystery Science Theater 3000; the cheesy, ground-breaking, low-budget show that found itself bouncing from Comedy Central to the Sci-Fi Channel in the mid-90's. MST3K was the brainchild of Hodgson, an adorable, sleepy-eyed magician and inventor who took the art of film criticism to a whole new level. He took it to outer space. As one who tuned in faithfully week after week to see the silhouettes of Joel, Crow T. Robot and Tom Servo cracking wise against an ever-changing backdrop of some of the worst sci-fi films and 50's instructional shorts ever made, I sometimes long for the MST "treatment" while watching some present-day piece o' crap. I never had an opportunity to meet Joel, but I did meet everyone else who worked on the show at the last MST Conventio-Con in Minneapolis in 1996 (the only time I've EVER attended something bordering on a sci-fi convention, hand to god!). By then, claiming "artistic burnout", Joel had moved on and would be replaced by Mike Nelson. Great guy-but he's no Joel. I'm sure he's had to carry that burden for most of his career. Mike was a good replacement; very funny, but Joel was way cute AND funny. Here's a link to a site I found with clips of some memorable examples of the genius of Joel.

Silence From MSM Is Deafening

Did you know that if you hold a newspaper up to your ear, you can hear the ocean?
We're now up to 11,000 posts on the "Thank You" site. I swapped out my link to Project Runway for Daily Kos, up in the left corner. If the emperor has no clothes, why should I care what anybody else is wearing?

Still "Soaring Like The Hindenburg"

I can't seem to let it go. Here's a site with over 7,000 messages of thanks to Stephen Colbert.
Should I be concerned? It's taken me 5 unsuccessful tries so far to get a picture to download.......but I AM NOT PARANOID........yet.
400 more thank you's have been added since I composed this post.