Fits and Starts

CHECK IT OUT!

2010-05-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

Do you see that banner up there?

Pretty fabulous, amirite?

That's me, just so you know.
In what appears to be my neighborhood.
What am I doing walking around with my eyes closed on such a beautiful day?
Daydreaming, perhaps?

If you're interested in these illustration skillzzzzz, talk to Ms. Moorea Seal at Rumination Reading Room.

She'll hook you up.

For realzzzzz.

End the excessive use of z.

<3

AM/PM

2010-04-27T16:59:00.000-07:00

These days, I'm only half here.

Half being the amount of the stimuli I am capable of processing.

Here being the external world.

Michael will finish a sentence. I am aware that he has finished the sentence, but I'll respond either with, "Will you repeat that?" or some nod/smile combination out of shame. I can listen and hear him just fine, but my brain is not performing the comprehend function.

Same goes for books. I have at least five books started right now and none finished. I read a chapter, a paragraph, or a sentence and by the end of it all I have to ask, "What just happened?" I can only reread something so many times before fantasizing about stuffing it in a paper shredder.

Cut to my recent obsession with shorts.

It's called flash fiction.
Extra short short stories.

I found a collection that my mind can digest.

AM/PM by Amelia Gray

This collection makes me feel a little voyeuristic.

For those of you that find yourself people watching and dropping eaves for enjoyment, you'll love AM/PM. Imagine 120 opportunities, day and night, to be an empathic fly on the wall in the most intimate moments between friends and lovers, and with oneself. Whether these moments are hilarious or heartbreaking, they're all totally insightful, in 150 words or less.

30:PM

Olivia dreams that her body becomes pliable enough that she can stretch very thin and cover most of the rooms of the house. Her body is so thin that the bones are clearly visible, and the veins stretch, and the blood has more distance to travel and as a result, the edges of her body are very cold. Reginald opens the front door, removes his shoes, and takes only one step before recoiling in horror at the chilly mass that is Olivia's body, stretched and waiting. In Olivia's dreams, she controls every aspect of her life.

<3

Newfoundland Pal of the Pen

2010-04-25T10:16:00.000-07:00

Now I remember why I stopped sending snail mail.

I had forgotten how slow the rate of the mail's movement actually is.

Sarah of Atlantic Atlantis and I took the Pen-Pal Oath.

Sarah's letter was sent on March 15th from Newfoundland, Canada and reached Chicago over a month later!

FINALLY!

Altogether, Sarah sent me a beautiful handmade card, Spiderman and My Little Pony stickers, as well as a Canada sticker I've already found a place for on my Moleskin planner, and an Arctic Blend tea, which I have yet to try. You know that feeling, when you love a gift so much, that you have to force yourself to use it? Someday I'll actually drink the tea, instead of constantly putting it to my nose to sniff.

I <3>

Lifetime of Gaia Worship

2010-04-22T16:35:00.001-07:00

As of today, EARTH DAY, I have been celebrating Mother Nature for 23 3/4 years. In other words, for 8,681 days.

I think of my life as a constant celebration of the world in which I live.
What's one day a year, compared to 8,681 days and counting?

You can't change the way you impact the Earth until you really get out there and see what's at stake.

PROOF

Consider four things that actually matter (via Treehugger) that you can do to improve your stay on Earth, as it's only temporary, but your footprint remains. Drive less, buy local, craft green, and be energy efficient!

Also, go over to The 60/40 to check out Roxanne's many informative Earth Day posts!

<3

Cameraddiction

2010-04-21T18:29:00.000-07:00

My Nikon D40 is too big to carry around all of the time.

The film for my Polaroid is too expensive. The lighting for my Actionsampler has to be perfect.
And my Canon AE-1 SLR won't give me pictures right now.

What to do? What to doooooo?

I'm in the market for a cheap (like, really cheap), compact (fits in my pocket), point-and-shoot camera, whose picture quality isn't total crap.

Any suggestions?

In the meantime, here are some old favorites, taken by me with the Polaroid and Actionsampler, that I found myself perusing this evening.

Polaroid

Actionsampler

<3

Oolala Apron

2010-04-19T15:48:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, there existed a vintage dress.

A beautiful floral, corseted dress.

Whose warped ribs dug into my sides and gave my chest a silhouette a-la Madonna's pointy bra.

You can't tell in this photograph because clearly my silly grin fools all.

Just for the record.
Beauty =/= Pain

Thus, I cut the damn dress up.
And made another pretty apron, of course.

<3

Humble Park

2010-04-18T15:55:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel as if you have been brainwashed?

Through media, our parents, and our peers we are socialized to have certain body standards. I can't speak for you, but neither does my shape nor my size live up to those standards. This has been a HUGE source of anxiety for me (and most of the women I know) and has left me with feelings of inadequacy and severe discomfort in my own skin.

Let the relearning begin.

When are we going to stop torturing ourselves with extreme diets and exercise? When are we going to value the beauty of all humans regardless of shape and size?

Listen, I am a promoter of a healthy lifestyle. I do not support anyone sitting on the couch all day long and junking out, but seriously, I'd rather not spend half of my life in the gym, or limit the sort of foods I can eat. I was born with these genes and I am not going to take all the fun out of my life working against them. I just want to be happy. Constantly worrying about my body has done too much damage to my mental health.

Have you ever heard of Health at Every Size?

It's a health approach that sounds pretty much right on for me.
The main principles are self-acceptance, normalized eating (intuitive eating - eating only when you're hungry and stopping when you're full), and pleasurable physical activity.

Michael and I dosed ourselves with some pleasurable physical activity and intuitive eating this weekend. We rode our bicycles against the wind to eat at the [amazing] Flying Saucer in the Humboldt Park neighborhood (there and back coming out to about 10.6 miles). Afterwards, we took a stroll through the actual park.

Humboldt is predominately Puerto Rican. You can see the Puerto Rican flag everywhere, hanging out of windows, flying from cars, and even in an arch over the street.

Like Pilsen, Humboldt Park boasts some pretty rad wall art. This mural is on the side of an auto repair shop!

Michael and I ran into a statue or two (this one is called Home), watched the fishermen across the pond, and played a game of goose, goose, duck.

Let me just tell you, Michael has pretty effin' long legs and arms. No, really. Perfect for climbing, and swinging, and generally getting into trouble.

All in all, it was a pretty successful day. I asked Michael to take some photographs of me in the park to share with my readers, but thereafter deleted every single one.

Of course, self-acceptance is the toughest to achieve.

But, I'm working on it.

<3

The Anatomy of Angst in Moorea

2010-04-17T17:33:00.001-07:00

Angst ain't so bad now that I'm all grown up.

At the same time, no one said it was easy to harness angst in productive ways. It's something that even I have not quite mastered.

There are days when angst is debilitating for me, when I really contemplate all of the hate, suffering and corruption in the world or when I feel as if who I have become is not quite right.

Yet, for [us] crafters, artists and activists, angst is also inspiring. Our anxiety about the state of the world or our lives often fuels our passions and forces us to act, to do something with the overwhelming feelings inside of us. Out of our angst comes creation and change.

Moorea Seal knows.

For those of you who have not visited Rumination Reading Room, the personal blog of Moorea Seal, what in the world are you waiting for? Get over there!

Moorea made this post a few weeks ago about the best kind of angst.
The kind that gives us power!

I made this painting for her, as a way to relate, to feel connected to her experience of angst, even though she's in the far away land of Seattle (sounds magical, right? So is Moorea).

I named it the Anatomy of Angst in Moorea.

After completing the painting, I contacted Moorea about her angst. I wanted to get a little closer to the emotions of a stranger. She enthusiastically agreed to answer all of my burning questions, and gave her consent to share them with you.

1. Tell me three words that describe your emotional experience of angst.
excitement, frustration, competition (with myself)

2. How do you experience angst physically?

I get crazy butterflies in my stomach like it's nobody business. My eyebrows raise in shock and excitement, my heart suddenly starts pounding, and I just want to let out a giant scream! Sometimes I scream in my pillow or jump around my bedroom. I feel hyper and excited, but in a way that all of it feels held up inside of me. Champagne bottles pop pop pop in my tummy and all I want to do is find a tactile reason to create so that those celebratory bubbles have reason for being there! I feel angry and driven to accomplish something.

3. Name some things in your life that provoke angst in you.

If I haven't been creating illustrations, jewelry making, or singing in a few days I just go nutso. It is in my nature to always be creating and to always be seeking out inspiration. If I have been working hard and nothing seems to be turning out the way I imagined, I feel super angsty too, desperate for inspiration. And then when I finally do find a blog, an illustrator, an artist, a musician or a designer that really innovative and unique, I get those butterflies in my tummy too, ready to begin again on my own work now that my eyes have been refreshed! I guess there are lost of types of angst for me :)

4. Do you remember your first experience of true angst?

Oh man, I've been angsty, stubborn, strong willed and self determined since before I could walk. I have always been intensely independent and have had a fire in me to always pave my own way and do it with passion. My first sentence was "Me help me!" ...it is still hard for me to ask for help haha! And when I was 9 I changed my own name from Ashley to Moorea. Yes, I picked my own name. I had never felt like my name suited me and always felt a bubbling of angst in me to find the name that really embodied who I was/am. You can read more about the story of my name here: http://ruminationread.blogspot.com/2010/03/true-tales-tuesdays.html

5. Do you openly express your angst? How?

I am actually a pretty shy person and am cautious about being very expressive with those around me. But, once I feel really comfortable around friends, I am ridiculously silly and expressive. I feel passionately about many things, from art and music to civil rights to nerdy blog/twitter/etsy/technology chatter. I constantly crave change and progression, so when something inspires me to change, to be better, to work harder, I have to let it out! Sometimes I create a drawing or a painting, sometimes I write a song, I write it out, or I laugh and shout and dance with my friends and sisters.

6. Do you feel angst is always a bad thing? How has angst inspired you?

Oh no angst ain't bad! Angst is a great thing. It is that thing inside of you that drives you mad in the best sense possible. It is that part of you that begins to erupt when you feel like your stagnancy has lasted too long. Its that powerful drive that kicks in when you have been bored for too long. Angst gives you something to fight against, to overcome. It is the launching point from which I begin each task, each project, each experiment. Angst is like the most intense competition you could ever feel. It isn't competition with anyone else, it is simply you fighting against yourself, driving you to achieve what you have yet to even begin!

7. In moments that you want to rid yourself of angst, what sort of
activities help?

Making a list of things I want to accomplish. Momentary things, things to be completed today, this week, this month, this year, this lifetime. I love checking things off. completing something that was driven by angst is the most satisfying accomplishment. :) Making lists of people who inspire me. Singing along with crappy music and doing impersonations of pop divas. Jumping around the house with my roommates and dancing to r&b and hip hop from the late 90s and early 2000s, think Nelly, 3LW, JLo, Usher etc...And then once that's all done, draw, make jewelry, play guitar, write songs, sing, paint. anything physical and tactile.

Get Angsty!

<3

Confession

2010-04-14T17:38:00.000-07:00

Folks, I didn't mean to go all MIA on you.

Guilt =/= Productivity

Admittedly, I'm tired and stressed.

My writing and language skills have been in the OFF position this week.

Craft/Brainstorm mode has been switched to ON.

The benefits of this mode will reveal themselves soon, my loves.

<3

Mystery Brew

2010-04-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend is an artist, a creator of craft beer.

I'm fairly certain that Michael wakes up thinking about beer. Now, he's not an alcoholic, because he does not drink all day long, but he sure does talk about it a lot. I know for sure that he goes to sleep thinking about it since he began reading about the science of brewing. I've been around during a few of his brew sessions, but have still not caught on to the process completely.

From what I gather as a mere photographer and laywoman, it's a lot of adding ingredients to a big ol' boiling pot of water and allowing it to simmer for a period of time specific to each ingredient, which comes out to about an hour (for a Belgian Wit, similar to Blue Moon or Hoegaarden, malt extract from barley and wheat, wheat, hops, coriander, and orange peels).

Dry Malt Extract

Liquid Malt Extract

Pelleted Hops

Flaked Wheat

Orange Peel

Full Leaf Hops

Hops are my favorite part of the brew process ... and, really, beer, in general. The aroma and taste is so strong and delicious. For those Tom's Deodorant users out there, you may already know that hops is the main ingredient, used as a natural deodorizer. Although, I wouldn't recommend eating your deodorant.

Chill your concoction, add live yeast, ferment in a jug (called a carboy) for a week, and bottle! One should wait at least a week before serving the beer. Michael and I have found that the longer we allow the beer to condition, or continue to ferment, in the bottles, the more complex (and better) it tastes! Mmm.

Carboy

If you haven't caught on, I am a beer enthusiast.

With the boyfriend to thank.

<3

Riding in DIY Style

2010-04-05T16:36:00.000-07:00

Today was my first bicycle ride of the season!

And it felt effing fantastic! Seriously, since the ride through my neighborhood this morning, I've been more energetic and happier times infinity plus one! The sun was shining, the wind was calm, and I fixed my bike up real pretty over the weekend (reference this post for a before shot). Riding around in style definitely makes me a more confident biker, something that is totally necessary on busy Chicago streets.

Originally, I had intended to repaint my bicycle. Realistically, I knew I'd never get around to the work involved in prepping a bike for new paint, like sanding, taking it apart, etc. Instead, I cut up an old dress that was in my fabric box and sewed some frame covers to match! As you can see, I've got a red chain, red grip tape, and red details on my tires, too!

Check out that backdrop!

The Pilsen neighborhood, where I live and thrive, is covered in murals. Pilsen is an exuberant Mexican community and absolutely amazing for so many reasons, but the art is one that is really apparent, even to mere passers-by. Now that the weather has improved, you should expect pictures of my favorite wall art from around the barrio. I'd actually like to do posts featuring many of the neighborhoods throughout Chicago, as they are all so different, and all so vibrant.

Pre-Columbian, Mesoamerican Calendar

<3

Reclaim the Apron

2010-03-29T19:09:00.001-07:00

For too long have such beautiful garments represented female oppression!

I made an apron this weekend.

Just so you know, I will not be wearing my apron to do any of the following (although, I will not hold it against you if you choose to do any of the following in your apron, as they actually are quite functional):

Dishes, sweeping and/or mopping, vacuuming, dusting, wiping anything down, scrubbing, spraying, sweating, feeding/playing with/burping/having a child, any role society expects me to perform simply because I am a woman.

If you consider it to be housework, I will probably not be doing it in my apron.

Just to clarify, I do not experience any of the following as housework (although, I will not hold it against you if you do experience any of the following as housework):

Sewing, cooking, decorating, weaving, nesting, organizing, rejecting any role society expects me to perform simply because I am a woman.

Aprons are just cute and fashionable, okay?

If when I wear my apron outside of my house you respond with a comment about where my gender should be, including, but not limited to, the kitchen and/or bedroom, I will probably intensely fantasize about your demise and kindly remind you that, historically, men wore aprons first.

Reclaim your apron!

<3

Reflect and Distract

2010-03-24T11:42:00.001-07:00

Like animals to shiny objects, I have always been attracted to reflections.

Michael and I distracted ourselves for at least fifteen minutes bouncing up and down on the kitchen floor to create ripples in the reflected image from a pot full of water.

I truly value those rare moments when I am entertained and amazed by the world as easily as I was when I was a child.

My crafting has been slow lately.

I've recently had a lot on my mind, so this project was perfect for directing my thoughts. The repetitive motion and pattern really helped to neutralize my negative thoughts.

Felt, embroidered embellishment to a skirt I made.

How do you distract yourself from sometimes incessant negative thinking?

<3

mORGAN

2010-03-19T12:01:00.000-07:00

My favorite human organ is the brain.

And considering that an organ is totally a thing (reference, The Anatomy of Things), I made a screen-printed plaque to honor the brain, with all of the major lobes labeled!

I am officially a nerd.

If you share my brain obsession, it would be very wrong if you have not heard VS Ramachandran speak about the brain's influence on civilization (mirror neurons) and his experience with various brain syndromes and what they teach us about the brain (Capgras Syndrome, phantom limbs, and synesthesia). So cool. Watch them at TED.com, a super sweet website full of lectures about all sorts of interesting topics.

What is your favorite organ, and why?
<3>

Little Bunny Stew Stew

2010-03-17T11:30:00.000-07:00

Occasionally, I would browse the animals for adoption on all of the local, no-kill shelter's websites, such as PAWS Chicago and The Red Door, just to overload myself with cute until I could not bear to look any longer. At some point, Michael picked up the habit, too.

And one day, he proposed to me, "What if we actually adopted a bunny? This one, maybe?"

There was this adorable, itty-bitty bunny named Smitty with which we fell in love over the internet. No wonder he was gone by the time we contacted the shelter, but I was relieved to hear that more bunnies had arrived that were not posted online. Michael and I drove to the far north side just to play with all of the rabbits.

We stayed at the shelter for hours.

There was Tawny, an attention-starved rabbit that we labeled a puppy-bunny because of its size. She would stretch up towards your fingers, to force contact with you like a cat. We were told that most people didn't like to adopt big bunnies and Michael and I honestly felt we didn't have the room to house such a giant.

Tawny - source

Then there was Pinto, a sweet, but hyper bunny that hopped around us in circles and made us too dizzy to take home.

Pinto - source

There was Avery, a bunny with the most beautiful coat and friendly affect. He followed us from one side of his pen to the other, even when we were outside of the boundaries, just to be near to us. Avery has a serious heart defect that had kept him from being adopted for two years! Michael and I were pleased to find out that he had finally been chosen, but was awaiting surgery to be neutered, a potentially fatal operation for Avery. We wished him luck and moved on!

Finally, we met Dandelion, a bunny I nicknamed Dandy. Dandy was high on pain-killers, as he had just been neutered. Michael and I were unsure if it was the drugs, but Dandy was so calm and loved the pets (as in, rubs)! I stood at Dandy's cage a lot, stroking his soft, sandy fur. Dandy was a gorgeous bunny, with big cheeks and a cute butt he stuck up in the air when he was being touched.

We took Dandy home one week later.

We drove with Dandy in a small, plastic pet carrier. I was a worried wreck on that drive home. Every single road bump felt like a mountain, every pot hole, the depth of the ocean. I talked to Dandy the entire time. He was totally chill, burrowing into an old sweater I used as a bed in the carrier. Considering that bunnies do not respond to their names, and despite the fact that I did like the name Dandy, Michael and I decided to change his name. Michael insisted on Bunny Stew (because he is punny) and I compromised with Stewart, to pay homage to Sir Patrick Stewart.

I introduce, Sir Bunny Stewart!
(applause)

Stewart's life since coming home with us has been very simple.

Stewart spends a lot of time in his litter box. I still find it strange that bunnies eat their hay and defecate in the same place. Ew.

Stewart has totally kicked his pain-killer addiction and still loves the pets.

And Stewart eats.

And eats and eats and eats and eats.
ALOT.
Om nom nom nom.

Stewart looks darn cute no matter what he does.

Wacky Weekend

2010-03-14T18:45:00.000-07:00

Saturday was bonkers.

[Too] early rising for a weekend, ex-boyfriend's wedding, jealous brides and envious glances, prom pictures, stained glass dome, "I want to eat from your buffet", rainy day, sea of green, drunken throngs, bunny rabbit name change, road bumps bigger than usual, happy hour with Three Floyds, questioning the newlywed about wading through rivers, forgiveness between foes, not my clap, cancelled flights, Just Married rickshaw, big inebriated mouth, blubbering in a bathroom, designated drivers do the job, and what we learned from House, everybody lies.

Photo updates coming soon.

<3

The Anatomy of Things

2010-03-11T14:50:00.000-08:00

Think of biology class dissections, minus the stink of formaldehyde and gore and flesh.

And that would represent perfectly my new craft direction. I'm not sure from where the inspiration came, probably looking through photographs of sewing machines for tattoo ideas, but all of a sudden, an overwhelming urge overcame me to see the innards of all of the mundane objects by which we're surrounded. To cut through plastic and metal; and to name the little bits and pieces inside.

I've been experimenting with screen printing a lot lately, so I figured this would give me another opportunity to hone my skills. And let me tell you, this was tough. Having to cut out the teensy-weensy sections of the sewing machine picture! Oi! My neck and back and fingers hurt by the end of it, from having to focus so intently and tense all of the muscles in my body to better control the Exacto knife. For my first try, and considering the detail it entailed, I am satisfied with the outcome.

Unfortunately, there are a couple parts where the paint bled under the paper and it looks sloppy. This can totally be solved in future prints by using a thicker piece of paper or another material. I had to fill several parts in by hand that were not adequately painted when I silk screened the image, as well. I used acrylic paint for the screen print, as well as to darken the outer edge of the plaque. It looks a lot like a nice wood stain, I was impressed.

To hang the plaque, I simply put push pins in the back and attached some string around them, leaving it a little loose so it could hang.

Although it will be awhile before its opening, I've decided to name my future Etsy The Anatomy of Things.

I intend to continue this style for a while, on plaques, bags, t-shirts, and notebooks, but I figure the title will apply no matter where I take my crafting.

Is there anything in particular that you'd like to see dissected?

<3

Craftivism

2010-03-08T23:18:00.001-08:00

"Finish what you start," she said.

At the screening of Handmade Nation, the film-maker Faythe Levine made me very aware of all the creative new things I've started. Enter my natural fear of it all slowing down to a stop. It has been five days since I last posted, and I am feeling terribly guilty about it.

source

The truth is that I am overwhelmed and distracted.

When at work, my focus should be on my clients, but instead I am thinking about crafting. When with my boyfriend, my focus should be on conversation, but instead I am thinking about crafting. If the internet is available in my presence, then I am probably using it to explore the blogosphere, including the online Indie Biz 2.0 class I am taking to prepare myself for opening an Etsy. I feel really disconnected from the direct world because of this obsession that has overcome me and it feels great. It's the first time in my life that I've actually felt creative and a part of something big. But, it's also becoming detrimental to my relationships at work and in my personal life.

How do you find balance?

Handmade Nation inspired me to the core.

I have been thinking more about my involvement in the DIY craft movement as a form of activism, or craftivism (a word coined by Betsy Greer). Activism against capitalism, against big business, against the mass production of goods, against sweat shops, against the pretentious world of gallery art, as way to express my dedication to the solution of the social problems around me.

Think of crafting as a more approachable way of raising consciousness.

Ms. Levine described crafting as, "making the mundane noticeable." If I can do that to spread ideas that I believe will transform society in positive ways, then I can sleep soundly at night.

<3

Creole Vegetable Soup-dee-doop

2010-03-03T17:56:00.000-08:00

Winter is almost over and I am going to miss soup weather.

To mourn the incoming heat, and the unbearable sweating that will ensue if I eat soup in said heat, here I will post a recipe for Creole Vegetable Soup.

Ingredients
(which can be adjusted as you please)

1 cup of split peas
3 large carrots
3 medium onions
1 large sweet potato
1 stalk celery with leaves
2 tablespoons of minced parsley
6 tablespoons of butter
2 quarts of water plus 1 cup
Pinch of cayenne pepper (I used way more)
2 teaspoons of salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup light cream (I used soy milk)
Croutons

Directions

1. Soak peas in water overnight and drain.

2. Peel and slice the vegetables, mince the celery and leaves, and place together in saucepan (there was so much, I used the soup pot) with parsley, butter, and 3/4 cup of water. Cook uncovered until the water evaporates.

3. Combine the cooked vegetables with the drained peas in the pot and add the rest of the water and seasonings to taste. Simmer for two hours.

4. When the concoction is done simmering, separate the vegetables from the broth using a strainer. Save the broth in a bowl.

5. Purée vegetables using a blender.

6. Combine the puréed vegetables and the broth in the kettle. Add the cream (or soy milk). Stir until completely mixed. At this point, I also added more cayenne to make it spicier.

7. Serve topped with croutons.

If you're not slurping it, you're not eating it right.

<3>

Tattoos of the Future

2010-03-02T18:59:00.000-08:00

There is so much skin on my body to be filled and I have so much to express.

I am addicted.
Don't bother to do an intervention.

I have some basic ideas brewing in my noggin for future tattoos, but no actual designs yet, which means it will probably be a long while before they take up some skin square footage. Not to mention, my ability to fork over the funds.

Oh, dear.

To celebrate the creative power within every woman and to exalt the beauty of femininity, I'd like to get the ten muses, including Sappho.

source

The style I am thinking about for this tattoo is best seen in Gustav Klimt's painting Fishblood. A lot of line work in black. I decided a long time ago that I was not going to get any color tattoos, besides maybe earth tones, such as brown and its variations.

source

To revel my own, personal creativity, as well as that of the women in my family, especially my grandmother, and her mother, too, I'd like to get a vintage sewing machine tattoo. By the time I was old enough to learn, my grandmother had the hardest time working with her sewing machine. It was always broken (even if it wasn't) and she could never get that darn thread in the needle and it frustrated her so. This tattoo is for her. For me, the sewing machine also represents self-sustainability and the ability to mend oneself, whether emotionally or physically.

source

What do you think of these ideas? Do you have any tattoos of the future?

<3

Tattoo Tuesday

2010-03-02T11:50:00.000-08:00

For those of you who follow Sometimes Sweet, you must be familiar with Tattoo Tuesdays!

As it is Tuesday (right?), and I have some tattoos of my own, I thought I'd share them with you, as well as plans I have in mind for future tattoos.

Hello, there.
Showing off my tattoos makes me a feel a little vulnerable, can you tell?

My newest addition is the separation of Pangaea. On one end, all of the continents are conjoined to form the land mass Pangaea. As you follow around the band on my arm, you'll watch Pangaea begin to separate until you find the continents in their present placement.

As our world becomes more and more globalized (in good ways and bad), we humans find ourselves further and further connected to each other (in good ways and bad). This tattoo represents that change. The distance and differences we perceive between people from around the world are only an illusion. Yes, we have experiences that are unique and we are socialized by distinct cultures, but really, to our core, we are the same. For me, Pangaea represents the link between us all.

My next tattoo, which I saw in a dream and planned for years before I actually inked it, is a lightbulb with a brain inside. Some of you are aware of my love affair with the human brain and neurology. This tattoo is a token of those affections and a tribute to the amazing and mysterious powers of the brain. To think that everything we see, hear, say, feel, touch, taste, think, perceive, and experience takes place in our brain totally astounds me. We have so much to learn about human experience and behavior. I believe these answers will come from the brain. As Fiona Apple said, "He said it's all in your head, and I said, so is everything, but he didn't get it."
I get it, Fiona, I totally get it.

This set of symbol tattoos is a doosy. I didn't get them at the same time and the meaning of the symbol I got first has changed significantly for me.

The infinity symbol came first. A now ex-boyfriend and I got the infinity symbol on our wrists together, to represent the length of time our love would last. How foolish and naive were we? Our relationship ended not long after we got the tattoos, but I can say that I will care about him deeply forever. The kind of love I have for him has changed a lot.

Hence, the delta, or the triangle, the symbol for change. I got this tattoo next, paired with the infinity symbol, to represent the idea that the only thing that lasts forever is change. Reminding myself of this has helped me through a lot of tough times.

The last two symbols have fairly simple explanations, as they represent my belief in and struggle for the equality of all humans, no matter their gender, sex, sexuality, race, ethnicity, religion, class, etc. Also, my rejection of the dichotomies of sex (male-female), gender (masculine-feminine), and sexuality (heterosexual-homosexual) is represented here.

The last and oldest tattoo, located between my shoulder blades, I got spontaneously when it was finally legal for me to do so. Embarrassingly enough, this tattoo design can be found in White Fluffy Clouds, a collection artwork and writings by Brandon Boyd. That's right. The same Brandon Boyd of the band Incubus. I was a total fan girl throughout high school. I still love the design, but nowadays I usually explain it away by my trip to India. Shh, don't tell. What I did learn from getting this tattoo, is that I will probably never get another that I didn't design myself. There you have it.

I wanna see and read about your tattoos, too! Send me a link to a picture or write a blog post to share!

<3

Casimir Pulaski Day

2010-03-01T20:25:00.000-08:00

HAPPY CASIMIR PULASKI DAY!

Pulaski aided the American Revolution, despite being from Poland, and despite not speaking a lick of English (or so the story goes). We celebrate his birthday (which actually isn't until the 6th) in Chicago because we have one of the the largest Polish populations in the world, second only to Warsaw.

I am not Polish, nor did I truly celebrate this holiday.
But, it gave me an excuse to post the video of a song that has been stuck in my head all day long. Maybe you've heard it?

Handmade Nation

2010-02-28T15:34:00.001-08:00

I am totally going to see a screening of this at Columbia on Thursday.

So excited.

DETAILS

March 4 - 3:30 pm (Please note earlier time)

Faythe Levine & Betsy Greer

"Craftivism" Documentary Film Screening of Handmade Nation with Lecture/Discussion

Faythe Levine is an artist, photographer, filmmaker and curator based in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She is the director of the film Handmade Nation and co-author of the book Handmade Nation: The Rise of DIY, Art, Craft & Design (Princeton Architectural Press, 2008). In 2004, Levine founded the alternative craft fair Art vs. Craft and in 2005 opened Paper Boat Boutique & Gallery which closed in 2009. Her work has been shown in internationally and reviewed in many publications including the New York Times Magazine, Adorn, Venus and American Craft Magazine. She is currently in production with her new documentary about sign painters and opening a new gallery in Milwaukee in 2010.

Betsy Greer is a writer, researcher and maker from North Carolina and author of Knitting for Good (Trumpeter, 2008). After developing a fascination with the relationship between craft and activism, in 2003, she started craftivism.com as a sociology experiment wondering, What happens when you unleash a new term on the Internet? After years of studying the indie craft movement predominantly in the English speaking world, she is branching out into a broader range of histories, cultures and customs. Now working around themes of war, craft and creativity, she hopes to keep uncovering the connections between these constructs to further unpack why and how they have shaped our lives.

<3

Stay Cool

2010-02-28T08:31:00.000-08:00

I had one of those nothing-can-go-my-way weekends.

And I surprised myself by staying totally calm, cool, and collected. Most of you don't know that I am the sensitive type, my days easily ruined by the silliest, mundane reason. But, I've been working on it. And all I could do was giggle at the ridiculous nature of my misfortune.

It all started with a boot.
A yellow immobilizer I found on my car late Friday night.
Not unlike this one here:
Now, you have to understand, it's mostly my fault. Yes, Chicago is one of the worst cities for parking tickets, as they've completely privatized parking, but I could have dealt with my pile before it came to the boot. Anyway, I won't state the exact sum I had to pay to get the boot off of my car, but just know, it's up there, like, way up there.

Then, my craft project failed.
Actually, it started out really strong. I was impressed at how well I was doing for my first intricately layered screen print. I got a little over zealous, and when I added the last layer, which should have been a lighter color than the rest, I added a dark green, because it was the only paint I owned that I hadn't yet used. I was excited, okay? I just wanted to finish it!

So, it's not TERRIBLE, but the color scheme was all thrown off because of that damn green. Plus, I forgot his teeth. You really can't get a sense of how good I was doing before the green because, in this picture, it sticks out like a ... sore (green) thumb? Eventually, when I open an Etsy, I want to include customizable, screen-printed portraits. This WILL NOT suffice as an example. Try, try again.

If anyone is interested in letting me use a photograph of someone special to them to create more of these for practice, I will totally do it, FOR FREE (for a limited time, only), and send it to you as a gift!

Hooray!

<3

Snail Mail

2010-02-25T18:41:00.001-08:00

I love snail mail (when it's not bills I'm receiving).

I miss the good old days, when I'd exchange letters and pictures with my cousins in Minnesota and friends who had moved. And how lovely it was to be given pen pals in school, to learn about far away people and places through an envelope. To peek in the mailbox everyday, anticipating, imagining its magical contents.

I received a postcard last week, from a friend only a few miles away.
And it totally made my day.

Last summer, a couch surfer left me a postcard he made (titled Unic-horn) and a cute note in thanks! I saw him again when I visited Portland at the end of the summer. What a wonderful character. Bem.

I decided that these fellows deserve snail mail in return.
Really, who doesn't?

And so, I created a postcard to send into the wild.
It's so gaudy, but still, I love it.

This picture makes the colors look a little funny.
It's a bit darker in real life.

Furthermore, what is this man doing selling cotton candy with snow on the ground?

<3

Time Travel

2010-02-24T18:46:00.000-08:00

Chicago has been my home for three years.

And I was desperate to leave yesterday (and by yesterday, I mean, a year ago).

In this regard, I am like my mother, who couldn't sit still until she was well into middle age. Truly, it feels like a sickness to me, a complete inability to be happy and stable in one place for very long. Luckily, there's a treatment.

My First Round of Treatment

In 2007, I visited India and Nepal.

Since feminist activism and social work are my passions, I could not be merely a tourist. While I was in India, I volunteered for an organization called Udayan Care and lived in a girl's home for two months serving as a mentor, tutor, and librarian. I always say, I went from being an only child, to having forty sisters. Oh, I miss these girls so much it hurts.

That's me on the left, with Kajal. <3

Being there, with such resilient, young girls and women, completely changed my life. I took hundreds of pictures while I was in India, but unfortunately, lost nearly all of them when my computer crashed back in the States. These are some of my favorites from those that were saved. No matter, I review my experience in India all of the time, in my mind, and in my dreams.

My Second Round of Treatment

I've been thinking about it a lot lately, since I've started to stir, and ache to work abroad again. My lease is up this August and I've already started searching for another organization with which I can volunteer for at least six months.

In South America.

<3

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Bible!

2010-02-23T17:59:00.001-08:00

For those of you that don't know me, I am an atheist.

(Please don't run away!)

I've been this way for as long as I can remember. Like many people are influenced into Christianity by their family, surely I was influenced into non-belief by mine. Of course, they gave me the freedom to attend church and develop spiritually, and I tried. But, those experiences only pushed me further into atheism.

When I was in middle school, a good friend invited me to a church lock-in. The name alone sounds terrifyingly like a grounding by your parents, but really, I had no idea into what I had gotten myself.

Fright Fest 1999.

Children were breaking down, their arms lifted up towards the spit-balled ceiling, faces beet red and stained with tears, begging for forgiveness. Think Jesus Camp. And I was effing scared. And I didn't know for what I had to be sorry.

We joined hands in a circle and the preacher asked, "Have you been saved?", like it was a threat. I thought to myself, "Saved? Saved from what?" He went on to explain, fire and brimstone, the sins of men, yadda yadda, blah blah. The preacher encouraged everyone who had been saved to leave the circle. I froze, too scared to leave the circle, too afraid to be caught in a lie.
That night, I was saved.

And I haven't gone back.

I realize that this doesn't happen everywhere. Although, nowadays, my reasons for being a non-believer/anti-religion are based on more than an emotional reaction. They're based on science, rationality, and a human rights perspective.

So, I recently decided I was going to read the Bible, just for fun.
Say what? What jew say, girl?

Yup, lately I've been studyin' good ol' Genesis. You know, Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Noah and the Ark, the Tower of Babel, all of the classics!

For those of you who find the Bible to be as dry and repetitive as I do, I would recommend reading Ladies and Gentlemen, The Bible! by Jonathan Goldstein in conjunction, as I am. Pure hilarity!

Here are some of my favorite quotes from the Goldstein's retelling of the classics listed above. If you don't know these Bible stories, it won't be as funny. Each title is a link to the story's Wiki page, if you're interested.

Adam and Eve

Looking down at Adam, God must have felt a bit weird about the whole thing. It must have been something like eating at a cafeteria table all by yourself when a stranger suddenly sits down opposite of you, but it is a stranger you have created, and he is eating macaroni salad that you have also created, and you have been sitting at the table all by yourself for over a hundred billion years; and yet still, you have nothing to talk about (p. 13-14).

Cain and Abel

Back in those first days, things changed very quickly. A new person being born meant there was a giant spike in the population. For Cain, it made the planet feel lopsided. He watched Eve bounce the newborn [Abel] in her lap and as she cooed it, he felt the Earth's gravity tilt in their direction. It pulled at the insides of his stomach and made him seasick (p. 29).

Noah and the Ark

From what Ham had heard about God, He was a lot like his father [Noah]--tough, stubborn, and prone to yelling right in your face for pretty much no reason. A flood didn't seem that out of the question, and God would have chosen his father because his father felt just like He did: he hated his kids and was to teach them the meaning of righteousness by killing them dead. If there was going to be someone God was going to get in touch with, to Ham, Noah seemed like an obvious choice (p. 54).

The Tower of Babel

"Ut-whay e-thay ell-hay is-way oing-gay on-way?" he cried. It was as though there was a hand in his mouth, bending and curving his tongue against his will. For a long while, none of the men dared speak. For Mibzar, it was the first time in his life that his mouth felt like an enemy. The men all stood staring at one another, not knowing what to do. Finally, Mibzar broke the silence. Looking into the heavens, he said in a very quiet voice, "Od-Gay, ou-yay in-way." (p. 76-77)

If you would prefer to hear Adam and Eve read by the author, Jonathan Goldstein, listen to this episode of This American Life called Starting from Scratch.

What a joy!
<3

Fused Plastic Grocery Bags Grocery Bag

2010-02-22T19:14:00.000-08:00

Uh-huh, the title sounds redundant, but for real, I made a grocery bag out of fused plastic grocery bags!

Perhaps, you follow Freckled Nest? Well, I used the same technique to fuse the plastic as LA! Unfortunately, I did not have bags of different colors. My bag is less fashion, more function. I will no longer need to use a plastic bag from the grocery store again! Hoorah for being green!

After fusing a bunch of plastic bags, I trimmed the edges of each rectangular piece so they were straight and saved the trimmings (including the handles and bottoms of the bags I cut off in the beginning), which I will use for a future craft project. Don't you throw them away! Think of all the things they can stuff (hint, hint)!

After trimming all of the pieces to near the same size, I started sewing them together using a zig-zag stitch (just cause I like it). This was really a wing-it kind of project. Once I had sewed together enough pieces to form one bag-sized side, I sewed more pieces to create the other side, which I measured against the first side for length and width. They turned out relatively the same. Heh.

To create the straps, I cut strips from plastic I had already fused, doubled it over for strength, and sewed the edges together.

With two sides and straps, all that's left is to sew those sections together to create the tote!

Oh, dear. I apologize for the pictureless tutorial! And I am a visual learner, too! I will make up for it next time, lovelies! Forgive?

<3

Stampland

2010-02-19T23:17:00.000-08:00

Attended my friend Joshua's Fluxus art show this weekend.

I know very little about Fluxus (1962 - 1978, or 1962 - Present, depending on who you talk to), but from what I gather, it's an art movement influenced by the spirit of dada. The same anti-art, DIY attitude that pokes fun at the pretentious world of art. This attitude, I dig.

I was late for the main performance (common to Fluxus) , but it appeared to be a blast as I searched for a parking spot. I was able to witness Fluxus boxes, an art form closely associated to the movement. The fluxus boxes at the gallery were small, wooden boxes filled with word clippings from magazines and newspapers. The idea is that you would put the words together to build your own sentences, in this case, your own obituaries. Traditional fluxus boxes often include games, cards, and ideas.

source

Really, I was most impressed by the gallery space.
A stamp museum/manufacturer called Stampland!

Tables and walls lined with gorgeous, in-store made stamps! Wowee, some of these stamps were amazingly detailed. The line work flabbergasted me so totally that I, of course, needed to receive an explanation of the process of making stamps! William "Picasso" Gaglione, the owner of Stampland, made it sound so simple.

The process, from top (the beginning) to bottom (the product).

Basically and without technical terms, Picasso uses the metal plate on the left, which is made with the image elsewhere, but requested by Picasso, to print the image on the brown, linoleum-like plate in the middle using the machine (heat source) you see below (which is made with a car jack?!). Next, Picasso uses recycled rubber pressed against the brown, linoleum-like plate to create the stamp you see on the right. Afterwards, Picasso cuts away the excess rubber, stamps the top of a wood block and allows it to dry for near twenty-four hours. And finally, using a double-sided, adhesive material, Picasso attaches the rubber stamp to the wooden block.

Michael and I wandered around, with our jaws on the floor, browsing stamps the entire time we were there. There were so many, it's overwhelming!

Can you blame us?
Fluxus who, what?

o <--- Pluto

2010-02-18T19:36:00.000-08:00

HAPPY DISCOVERY DAY PLUTO!

source

<3

Winter Blues

2010-02-18T18:52:00.000-08:00

Winter crampin' your style?

Mine, too.

View of last week's Chicago blizzard from my front door. Did you know that there was snow in every state at the same time this year?

What do you miss?
I miss bicycle rides that require no more than my epidermis.
I miss strolling down slush-free side walks whistling a tune.
I miss laying in the grass cross-legged, squinting with the sun in my eyes.
I miss when I could walk into a building and still see through my glasses.
I miss curb sitting in front of my favorite cafe with a coffee.
I miss craft projects best (and most easily) done outdoors.
I miss sweating so hard you feel purified.
I miss summer festivals.
I miss exposed toes.
I miss vitamin D.

My poor bike that I neglected to bring in before the storm. The damage is done. How sad. I call it my bikecicle.

Don't get me wrong.
I also totally adore winter.

It is gorgeous, for about .2 seconds in the city, before the cars and pollution and people turn the snow brown.
I can comfortably wear color-coordinating cardigans and tights with everything.
I get to make puns like "abominable snow van" when vehicles become buried.
I get to throw things at people without offending them much.
I can hibernate in my living room under a blanket, drinking herbal tea and reading, for hours without feeling a bit of guilt for being a hermit.

Really, winter is quite magical.

<3

Gifts from Gramps

2010-02-17T16:35:00.000-08:00

Visited my gee-pah a couple of weekends ago.

Michael joined me for the first time. We drank wine all night and talked history and politics in the sun room. I felt so warm and comfortable and happy to be with them. My grandpa is full of stories that I'd like to remember forever, even when he's gone (as a child, I always thought he was invincible and that he'd outlive us all). He's the clingy type, too, saving odds and ends, magazine clippings, vintage art, and photographs (about which I will be writing a completely separate post), and I love him for it.

The sun room.

Sometimes it takes some coaxing, but my grandfather is very generous despite his attachment to his possessions. While I was there, Michael and I explored the house and found some beautiful items my grandfather had stored away unused. Of course, with a couple of pokes, he handed them over to moi. I am very excited to share these gifts here, as well as to have them at all!

Stained glass, antique lamp. AHHH!, isn't it gorgeous? I absolutely could not believe he gave this up. The base weighs an effin' ton and the shade is really fragile! Actually, one of the stained glass panes broke awhile back, but my grandfather saved all of the (itty-bitty) broken pieces to be glued together. This is my project.

What kind of glue do you think I should use?

In high school, I decided my favorite word was cacophony. This poster is the source.

My grandpa had it sitting on his bathroom counter, silly man! I had to have it, it being a bit of my linguistic history. Toad Hollow is a brand of wine and this is a poster of the label for Cacophony, it's Zinfandel. Pretty jazzy, too. I am a wine and jazz sort of gal. It reminds me of The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, an animated film featuring Bing Crosby as the narrator that I adored as a child.

And, the finale!

Ooooooo, aaaaahhhh.
A Canon AE-1 SLR in mint(ish) condition! An old I-don't-know-what-kind-of flash! A nameless, cloudy zoom lens! To be frank, I don't know very much about cameras, but I like taking pictures, so I am truly looking forward to exploring the city to experiment! So exciting! Michael challenged me to a pitcha-takin' contest and I've totally got it won.

Sharing is caring.
<3

The Dangers of an Unattended Laundry Bin

2010-02-16T16:27:00.000-08:00

I have better things to do than laundry, thank you very much!
But, what a disaster. My clothes are piling high in my closet nowadays and I am doing the sniff test on everything just to get by this week. Seriously, dirty clothing avalanches, dirty clothing tornadoes, dirty clothing flooding my house. What's a girl to do?

MAKE MORE.

Michael and I went on a bit of a shopping spree this past weekend, at which point I picked up some interesting fabric from Jo-Ann's:

And with the recent clothing crisis I'm experiencing, I decided to make a skirt. The first piece of clothing I have ever made in my entire life, mind you, no kidding!

I am new to the whole self-timer, self-portrait process, and terribly uncomfortable in front of cameras, so don't mind the slightly blasé look on my face. The skirt looks uneven, it isn't, I'm just standing with one of my knees bent. Just your standard knee-length A-line, with some felt pocket embellishments in the front. Honestly, I would have liked to embellish the skirt more, but I needed to wear it to work today! What do you think? The only issue I have is the way it lays on my tummy and lower back. Because I used elastic for the waistband, it has just a bit of unflattering poofiness in those areas, which I will manage to avoid once I learn how to sew a damn zipper (Vogue Fabric sewing classes starting March 7th, yay).

I will leave you with something I bought at SalvArmy during our shopping spree, as well. Framed pressed flowers for two dolla, dolla bills, ya'll.

Pretty, pretty.

<3

I do lub.

2010-02-14T19:34:00.001-08:00

Truly, I find Valentine's Day to be overrated and disgustingly commercial and I am still unsure about why we're celebrating St. Valentine at all, but I can't deny that I find myself quite in love these days, with this one:

Michael is the most intelligent boy I ever did meet. His mind is always moving, towards philosophy and poetry, and I am fortunate to be with him, to witness the ebb and flow of his everyday thoughts. Our bodies are always touching and our limbs always entangling. I do all I can to abate the incessant urge to enter his body. We have the bitter-sweet sort of love, one with a foreseeable end, one during a time of great flux and change for us both. With Michael's support for the past year and a half, I've progressed as a lover and as a human being.

WUB.
<3

Anti-valentinism

2010-02-14T17:13:00.000-08:00

Sick Days

2010-02-10T15:59:00.000-08:00

Right, so. I got sick.

And my blogging plans for this week were blown into a kleenex and thrown away along with my brains. So, you know the theme I had designated? Scratch that. Although something as broad as THE PAST almost always applies, and it will here, I did have something specific in mind, and it didn't include mucus and body aches.

But, to celebrate the last two days, which I spent at home from work, I want to discuss SICK DAYS, in all their glory and gore!

With my face plastered to my pillow with drool and snot, I realized that not much has changed since I was a child. Sick days are relatively the same now as they were then, the exception being that it's my own hands and feet which do the waiting (at least, while the boyfriend is at work). Other than that, they're pretty much the same, and nearly always include:

1. Science Fiction Marathons, which I doze in and out of all day long. When I was a child, I preferred the original Star Wars trilogy because I owned it on VHS and I couldn't get enough of Hans Solo's sexy sarcasm. Oh, to be young and dumb again. With age, I've come to appreciate Jean Luc Picard's wisdom and the moral dilemmas of Star Trek.
source

2. Cold Medicine Daze, all I had stocked in my medicine cabinet this time was Nyquil. When I woke up in the early morning hours and saw the orange sunrise reflecting off the snow covered rooftops, I was sure I was tripping. When I was a kid, it was all innocence and "A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down...". With age, I've come to equate the experience with recreational drugs.

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3. Grilled Cheese and Soup to Dip, and that's it. Maybe some juice, some water, you know, keep the fluids going, some tea. Other than that, bread, cheese, and spicy soup to clear those sinuses. Even though I can't taste a damn thing, there's something totally delicious and comforting about this combination when you're sick and nearly nothing else sounds the least bit appetizing.

4. Daytime Sleeps Too Long to Be Called Naps, because it's not a nap if it's six hours long. Totally necessary for the getting-well process. If you didn't have aches and pains in your back and/or neck going into the illness, you will by the end of it, just from laying in bed.

5. An Excuse to Miss Work or School, uh-huh, oh-yeah. I used to fake sick as a kid all of the time, to evade a teacher or an in-class assignment, usually a speech. I'd come up with creative ways to feign a temperature and I'd put on a quite a performance. Self-fulfilling Prophecy Syndrome? You know, when you will yourself into a state of sickness. A week ago, I was joking with Michael about acquiring his illness, just so I could take the week off of work. When you imagine a week like that, your ability to be productive at home is not obstructed. Of course, it never turns out that way. Ugh.

source

And finally,

6. Sympathy, give a little whine and moan and you're bound to attract the attention of someone. A co-worker, a friend, a significant other. I unintentionally managed to dupe my boyfriend into a baby-talking, what-can-I-get-you-dear frenzy. It's not pretty (but, I love him for it!).

By the way, I did make it back to work today.
And, for me, it's not so unlike this situation:

source

And that part about sympathy from co-workers... pfft. Everyone is treating me like I have the bubonic plague. Seriously, do I have QUARANTINE written on my back?

Somebody call the waaaaambulance!

<3

Melancholia

2010-02-07T15:55:00.000-08:00

Where-oh-where did my weekend go? Oh-where-oh-where can it be?

Once upon a time, before modern medicine, physicians believed in humorism, a theory that claimed personality changes and physical ailments in a person to be related to an excess, deficit, or imbalance of the four humors, or body fluids, including blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. According to classical medicine, an excess of black bile in my body would easily explain my current state of melancholy. The solution usually involved blood-letting or vomitting in order to purge the surplus humor from the body. If only it were so simple.

source

I do not cope well with weekends that move at a faster rate than I do. Though, I did manage to conjure up a couple of posts for this week.
This weeks theme - THE PAST.

<3

Biodegradeable Plastic

2010-02-04T17:33:00.000-08:00

We all know plastic is bad for the environment.

(I do not pretend to be an expert on the matter.)

The statistics say that three billion pounds of plastic are used in the United States annually and that most of it goes to landfills to sit for near an eternity. Clearly, this plastic does not always stay in landfills, and has negative effects on our environment and the animal/plant life within it. Ever heard of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, scientifically known as the "Gyre"? Basically, it's a giant trash island in the Pacific Ocean two times the size of Texas. Can I get a woah? If you haven't seen it already, there's a documentary called Toxic Garbage Island about this floating mass of trash. Watch it!

How disturbing.

It's especially disturbing when you consider that biodegradable plastic exists.
Recently, I found a company called Green Genius (from which some of the information in this post comes). Through Green Genius, I found biodegradable trash bags and immediately requested a sample through their website. I became interested in learning more about the process of making plastic biodegradable.

From what I gather, in simplest terms, it goes like this:
Green Genius bonds organic nutrients to the molecular structure of plastic using a proprietary substance (I guess this means they won't be giving out the recipe, and that kind of bothers me). This combination attracts the appetite of the microbes found in landfills, microbes that find standard plastic abhorrent. While the microbes feed on the organic nutrients of the bag, the plastic is also broken down into simpler organic matter, such as sugars, fatty acids, and amino acids. The microbes continue to feed until all that is left of the bag is water, bio-gas (carbon dioxide and methane), and bio-mass (humus, not to be confused with the delicious chick pea spread). Pretty cool, huh? If only I were a chemist.

Being the sceptic that I am, I looked into the standards of biodegradability, determined by the American Society for Testing and Materials (ASTM). The test the Green Genius bags passed is called ATSM D5511, a test which examines the bags ability to degrade in anaerobic (without air), dry disposal, digestion (microbal) conditions. Supposedly, these conditions are typical of most landfills. The only problem I've really been able to find is that there is no test that has determined the conditions of an average landfill. I've also read that most biodegradable plastics do not decompose well in conditions that lack air and moisture (typical in the depths of landfills) and that few have passed the ATSM D5511 testing conditions. Hoorah for Green Genius? Other than that, there's some worry about the greenhouse gases, carbon dioxide and methane, that are released into the atmosphere when the bags biodegrade, as well as the energy used to produce the bags in the first place, which is slightly higher than that of polypropylene (plastic). Honestly, I'm not sure these costs outweigh the benefits. I don't think the scientists know yet either. The research and development of alternative technologies are relatively infantile.

The bags are kinda pretty, don't you think? My feet think so.

Anyway, with my free sample finally filled with trash, I took it out to the dumpster today and started considering if I was going to buy into it all (literally). These things are not cheap, folks (1 box of large bags, 28 bags each, is fourteen dollars), and unless more people start using them, batches of organic waste in landfills will continue to be contaminated by regular plastic. What I like about Green Genius goes beyond their sale of biodegradable plastic, though. Apparently, a portion of their profits go to organizations invested in the removal of plastic waste from our environment. Am I decided whole-heartedly on biodegradable plastic ? Definitely not, I still don't know enough to say. But, I believe the research and the organizations dedicated to finding alternatives is a cause worthy of investment.

<3

Salsa of the Green Persuasion

2010-02-02T19:38:00.000-08:00

Salsa Verde attempt number two.

The first attempt, I must divulge, was splattered all over my floor by my life-threateningly (no joke, long story) graceless boyfriend. The man hadn't quite mastered the screwing in and unscrewing of our new blender in the process. How many people does it take to unscrew a blender (without destroying its contents)? I kid, I kid! (Love you, dear) Stop me before the cost of writing this post outweighs the benefits. Of course, he made up for his folly by concocting this delicious batch. Mmm.

Necessary Ingredients:
Seven tomatillos
Two jalapeños
Two cloves of garlic
Juice of one half lime
Half of one small-medium sized onion
One and a half tbsp. of fresh cilantro
Salt and pepper to taste

Necessary Supplies:
Knife to chippity-chop
Baking sheet
(Fool proof) Blender
Container for salsa

Step Uno - Cut the tomatillos in half and put them on a baking sheet. Preheat oven to 450 degrees and roast for approximately fifteen minutes (or until soft(or until your kitchen smells yummy)).

Step Dos, Tres, Cuatro, Cinco - Chop all fruits, vegetables and herbs, including the jalapeños, lime, cilantro, garlic, and onion. Slice the lime into pieces that can be easily squeezed. All other ingredients should be chopped into very small pieces.

Step Seis - Play with your food. Always. I <3 cephalopods!

Step Siete - Blend all ingredients together, including the tomatillos, jalapeños, cilantro, garlic, and onion. Squeeze the lime juice into the blender, as well. Watch for seeds! Add salt and pepper to taste. Blend into a salsa consistency that you like.

Step Final - Jar the salsa and refrigerate! I recycled an old salsa jar for this purpose.

El Final
(Mmm, muy bueno!)

<3

Not a Trace of Empty ___ Space

2010-02-01T16:43:00.000-08:00

So, I've had an unsightly blank wall above my book shelves for long enough. The gorgeous green I painted it (months ago) could no longer suffice on its own. I considered a slew of various DIY wall art projects that would cost little to nothing, especially if I used supplies already in my possession. This pretty much takes the cake ... and eats it, too? Abstract, anyone?

Supplies:
black yarn
push pins
a ladder helps
patience does, too

This is the most frightening ladder I have ever stood on in my entire life, no lie. The skinny legged end slides about the floor, the rungs wobble to-and-fro under your feet, it's covered with splattered paint older than me, and it's quite a game of tetanus. I said TETANUS, not TETRIS. Nails, rusty ones, everywhere, itching to get in your foot and/or hands.

TRIUMPH!

Whuddayasaythinkfeel?
The orderliness of the books juxtaposed to the chaos of the...
Kidding.
But, it was simple and it turned out a little stunning, no?

<3

Weeeee!kend Productivity

2010-01-31T16:36:00.000-08:00

Wowzers, I had a really successful weekend. I guess I've started taking my TO DO LISTs seriously. This is how my blogging will go, I suppose. I'll do a trillion +1 things on the weekend, and then I will post my activity throughout the week. Anyway, I am one of those behind-the-times freaks that doesn't have the internet at home. It's actually really refreshing. You should try it. With that, throw your television out the window, says the person who watched nearly half the first season of House in a day.

[Rough] Weekend To Do List:

Besides, I can't seem to accomplish anything, but blog posts during my work week. Even my blog posts leave me feeling guilty about the way I spend my time at work. According to some of my (ex)superiors, I should have my nose up the asses of every Participant onsite at all times. And this is supposed to be their transition into reality? If I had someone's nose up my ass 24-7, I'd probably lose my mind ... and my lunch. Thus, I have sufficiently rationalized spending my lunch (plus some) on my writing. I am the model of productivity and supporter of all things creative! I am comfortable with this role, even at work. Last week, I helped one of the guys write a song ... about God ... being the truth. Okay, so, the subject matter of the song is really not my forté, but I helped him find the perfect Bible verse and write a basic outline for the song. It was pretty amazing.

Posts to which you can look forward i.e. TEASER:

Recipe involving tomatillos
source

Wall art with yarn
source

Biodegradable Plastic...?
source

Finally and unrelatedly, I must express that I am terribly and unbearably missing some people who live in far away places, including, but not limited to Caitlin and Amanda. I think about these two daily. The night before they left for Las Cruces, New Mexico, my friends and I had a "Favorite Caitlin and Amanda Moments" walk to our favorite local bar. You can bet that I've had those memories on repeat in my head ever since. Furthermore, I am the worst long distance friend in the universe.

<3

Dalí Box

2010-01-25T21:17:00.001-08:00

You've been acquainted with Pandora, no? You know, the one with the box of nastiness? Really, it was a jar of nastiness, but the word was lost when the story was translated from Greek to Latin. Anyway, in case you haven't heard the story, here's the general idea: Some dude pisses off Zeus by stealing the secret of fire and Zeus orders some other jackass to create the first woman to get his revenge. So, of course, a bunch of gifts are showered on Ms. Pandora, as she's just come into the world, including the gift of curiosity and the infamous jar. What a pair of gifts! Surprise, surprise, Pandora opens the damn thing because she just can't help herself and out comes the worst kinds of evils, ills, and diseases you can think of. Oh, but to sugar coat it, hope was at the bottom of the jar. Yes, Pandora managed to close the jar before hope escaped. Hope? Gee, thanks, Zeus, at least I can hope to erase all the terror and suffering from the world. Does the misogyny sound a little familiar to you? Think Garden of Eden. Hesoid's just another man writing a story about a woman who ruins the world. How original.

Really, I was just using this myth to segway into the topic of my post today. About a box. A box that is not at all like Pandora's Jar. A box full of wonders and magic! A box that contains all sorts of new and old craft supplies! Hooray! As I am fairly new to crafting, I've recently had to invest in a ton of supplies. Not all of which can be contained in my box. Creates quite an empty pocket feeling. I digress, back to the box! I've noticed that many-a-craft-blogger truly enjoy removing the contents of various containers for show-and-tell. I will continue the tradition because it's just fun. I call it my
Dalí Box.

It's kind of purdy, right?  I cut up a 2006 Dalí calandar I'd stored away and Mod Podged the pieces on the box.  I'm still working on the sides.  I want the insides to remain a secret to all outside observers.  I don't mean to imply that there could possibly be any observers from the inside.  You know, like the Indian in the Cupboard?

From top left to bottom right:

- one circle template for rosette making

- one rotary cutter, not be be confused with pizza roller

- collection of embroidery floss of a different color, like the horse from Emerald City

- old pair of all purpose scissors, you don't want to know where they've been

- new pair of fabric scissors, to make pretty dresses

- new pair of embroirdery scissors, to snip, snip

From top left to bottom right:

- six fabric markers, to write "Kick Me" on the back of all your shirts
- one crochet hook I used to finish the woven scarf
- one pair of needle nose plyers that I recently used to remove the bottle of Fix-A-Flat from my car tire
- two exacto knives with extra blades, for at home emergency surgery, you know, cheaper than scalpels
- seven baby blue paintbrushes, different strokes for different folks
- ten Crayola markers, for doodlin'
- seven hand needles called sock darners that I will probably never use on actual socks
- two lengths of elastic for a soon-to-be-realized project
- Bindis! I bought them on a volunteer trip to India a few years ago and actually have no idea what they're doing in my craft box
- one tube of super glue with which I am inevitably forced to make the okay sign with my hand
- three erasers that I never use, but tell myself I will
- hectagon template to make beehive embellishments

Well, kiddies. Stay out of trouble(not)!

<3

2010-01-24T16:03:00.000-08:00

Fantastical Goal of 2010 #1:

Buy enough books to construct indoor fort. Example:
source

Realistic Goal of 2010 #1:
Read all unread books from my personal library totalling 100+.

Probable Reason for Not Reaching Realistic Goal of 2010 #1:
Addiction to purchasing new and used books, as well as unbearable urge to enter all book stores in path.

My obsession with neurological case studies wins again! While browsing the Bargain Books section of Border's this weekend, I found a copy of The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales by Oliver Sacks for a mere $5.99 (cheap, cheap goes the bird eating the book worm).
Unfortunately, this is not the dust cover of the book I purchased. Instead, I am posting this one because it oh-so cleverly represents the first case study from which the title comes. Clearly a take on Magritte's painting, "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" (This is not a pipe), this cover uses a hat also common in Magritte's art to make the point "Ceci est ma femme" (This is my wife). The case study of Dr. P tells the story of a zealous musician with visual agnosia. The general definition of visual agnosia goes like this: the inability of the brain to make sense of or make use of some part of otherwise normal visual stimulus. In particular, Dr. P is unable to recognize faces, including the familiar faces of his students, family, and even his own. Dr. Sacks includes anecdotes from his experience with Dr. P, which are simultaneously saddenning and hilarious.

I must have looked aghast, but he seemed to think he had done rather well. There was a hint of a smile on his face. He also appeared to have decided that the examination was over and started to look around for his hat. He reached out his hand and took hold of his wife's head, tried to lift it off, and put it on. He had apparently mistaken his wife for a hat! His wife looked as if she was used to such things (p. 11).

I take well to morbidly comical stories, how about you? Actually, I have an anecdote of my own about my post-stroke grandmother. At the time it was quite unsettling, but before her death, she and I were able to giggle about it together. After my grandmother had her stroke, she suffered most obviously from apraxia (the loss of the ability to execute or carry out learned purposeful movements, despite having the desire and the physical ability to perform the movements) and visual agnosia. As a result, my grandfather became excessively protective of any movement my grandmother made, following her around the house and the yard, where she spent most of her time. There was one instance when my grandmother managed to get out of the house undetected, to walk the path that led to the garage where she intended to meet me. I witnessed, in slow motion, my grandmother go clumsily flying off the sidewalk into a flower bed. While struggling to get up, my grandmother's only wailing response was, "Don't tell your grandfather!" Besides a few bruises, she was fine, but neither of us could resist telling my grandfather (much later, of course). I think it's laughing at the things which hurt us that makes us most resilient. It was my grandmother who taught me this the most.

Mary Christina Brown

<3

Girl, where'd you get your weave?

2010-01-19T21:19:00.000-08:00

PROJECT: WEAVE BLACK SCARF FOR COLD (COLOR-COORDINATING) BOYFRIEND ON DIY CARDBOARD LOOM

RESULTS: POSED ON DECORATIVE TABLE NEXT TO VINTAGE PHOTO OF MOTHER AND AUNT AND FLOWERS TO GIVE THE IMPRESSION OF BEAUTY AND SUCCESS
(DRUM ROLL)
..........

I'd like to think that the scarf conjures up thoughts of beauty and success with or without the props. But, they are so lovely, are they not? Check out that baby blue polyester. Check out those 1970's collars. The twinkle in their eyes. My mother is the older and wiser one on the right. Interesting how this fact has remained true throughout their lives (my now long lost aunt was rather daft the last time we met). I do not feign familial love and connection.

Anyhow, anywho, anyway, it was my first go at weaving anything so I didn't create a picture tutorial throughout the process, as I was unsure if it would turn out the way I imagined. I didn't want to combine several small woven pieces of fabric so I warped the loom front and back to create one long piece of fabric. This was just a test. I did not read any tutorials about using this technique, but I did use this tutorial for the basics: http://www.craftstylish.com/item/2546/how-to-weave-on-a-cardboard-loom
Once I finished weaving, I crocheted the ends of the scarf closed and added tassels. Some sections of the weave could be tighter, but I am quite proud of how it turned out! Hoorah!

THE LOOM AFTER I FINISHED THE SCARF:

As you can see, I cut the slits off of one end to release the fabric from the loom when I finished. I must say, weaving around the edge of the loom was a pain in my ass, but I managed to keep my patience and perseverance in tact!

THE WARM (COLOR-COORDINATED) BOYFRIEND WITH WOVEN BLACK SCARF AND TRILBY HAT IN A BLACK AND WHITE PHOTO TAKEN TO GIVE THE AIR OF MYSTERY CHARACTERISTIC OF FILM NOIR:

"Here's lookin' at you, kid."

<3

Mi Casa en el Barrio Pilsen

2010-01-19T20:18:00.000-08:00

Hola!  Bienvenidos!  I am happy to share my cozy commorancy with you!  Actually, I am down a roommate, if you're interested... but that's a longer and saddening story that I will tell you later.  Perhaps, we'll have a seat and chat awhile?  The tour, you say?  Of course!  But, first, let me introduce you to my pet.

Say cuckoo to mi pájaro Cú. From what I've gathered, the Mexican folktale of Cú tells the story of a bird with no feathers and a serious inferiority complex.  Luckily for Cú, a generous member of the bird council, the barn owl, convinced each bird board member to offer Cú one of their feathers in exchange for Cú's services as a messenger.  With plumage from the bird council, Cú was gorgeously transformed.  Like Narcissus, Cú became so entranced in the reflection of itself that it could not perform its duties as messenger, which caused an outrage within the bird council.  The bird council promised to teach both Cú and barn owl a lesson, thus both went into hiding.    

Cú has acquired a bit of an attitude since its exile.  Watch out!  Unless you're always aware of Cú ... unless you give Cú (and its plumage) your full attention ... it will fly into your hair and peck your head!  My terribly clumsy boyfriend has fallen victim to Cú's wrath more times than I can count!  Keep your eye on Cú when you walk through my kitchen!

How about that ceiling?  Isn't it beautiful?

View from my front door.  I quite like my checkered tile, but it's a little excessive in the middle, wouldn't you say?  A table and chairs is in order, I think.  One on which to craft, eat, (have sex), etc.?  Mmm, yes.  Are you hungry?  Do you want a snack?  You'll find mostly produce in my refrigerator, maybe some hummus, soyrizo, tortillas, popsicles.  In my cabinets, grains of all sorts, rice, quinoa, cous cous.  Granola bar?  Vegetable herb crackers?  A drip of soy sauce?  A dab of Sriracha?  No?  Well, at least have some tea?  I have quite a collection.  NO?!  Juice?  I have all sorts.  Well, okay, if you're absolutely content, we'll move on.

Are you house broken?  Whenever necessary, do use the bathroom to relieve yourself.  It's just awful cleaning up the waste of others.  But, please, if it's yellow (reference bathroom color in case you're unsure), let it mellow, if it's brown, flush it down.

Oh, the grief of being unable to jump on the bed.  One hard knee into the mattress and the planks are bound to break.  Believe me, I know from experience.  But, I've got a number of stories due to my loft bed.  Once, it taught two cats how to climb a ladder on lonely nights.  And, ha!  To have witnessed my boyfriend and I assembling the damn thing!  We were bonking each other on the head with pieces one minute, strangling each other the next, quitting after that, and coming back giggling.  Surely, we slept well that night.

Ahhh, where I spend most of my time: the living room.  There have been some changes, so you know.  It must be hard on you to have traveled from the future, huh?  Oh, hmm, you're wondering how I know the future?  Family secret, don't be offended.  Anyway, that wall on the right is painted green now.  My couch is a little bit dented in the middle, I'm sure, on account of my Star Trek (and X-Files) addiction.  And nearly every available surface is covered in craft supplies.  How about a little nap?  Yaawwwn.  Do you see how dark it is outside?  Let's get horizontal.

Buenos días!  Before you leave, take a look out of my bay windows.  The sky is bluer than on a typical Chicago winter day!  Wait, close your eyes, I'll lead you to the window.  Think of the Mary Poppins roof scene with the chimney sweeps.  Okay now, open your eyes!  It's only an illusion!  We're not actually on the roof, although that might be pleasant?  I have a fire escape if you want to go out.  Too cold for you?  Fine, then.  Do you see that building looming in the distance?  Yes, that's the Sears ... I mean, Willis Tower, a name with which I will never become comfortable.

Well, it was a lovely sleepover, no?  But, alas, it is time for us to part.  You're not nearly out the door and I already miss you.  What is that you ask?  What a silly question!  Of course you can return!  You're apart of this place now.  Just think, you've left skin cells behind.  I will think of them when I am alone.

<3

Flower Bed

2008-10-01T08:19:00.000-07:00

You picked me from a garden of weeds. If you can remember that far back, I was the only one who wasn't a weed in that particular garden. That's why you chose me, remember? At first, you just looked at me in a vase on your windowsill. Then you used me as a link in the garland of flowers in your hair. That's when you began to love me. But, winter came and the wind blew me out of your locks. I hadn't blown far yet, but you neglected to find beauty in me anymore. You plucked me up only to leave me without roots to stand on or even weeds to keep me company. I started to wilt. Another lover sent for me and I mailed myself in a box that flew to Chicago, the origin of my seeds. I thought of you there. You missed me despite my fragility and dying leaves. You were the only gardener that saw and understood the way my colors shone in the sun and light of the moon. The sun didn't shine much in Chicago. I was replanted, but never grew there, and you knew that, too. You followed me there only to find a weed prettier than me. This weed grew off the sidewalk of your beaten bicycle path and you couldn't control him. But, I was there in your backyard's garden when you needed me. There were times when you'd pull me out of the soil and we'd share a moment together. You'd delicately run my petals along the edge of your lips while you fingered my stem, but it was only to drop me back into my flower bed again.

Kalpana

2008-09-25T02:30:00.001-07:00

She wanted to learn and she wanted me to teach her. She wanted to learn when the sun wasn't so hot and her stomach wasn't so full. "I'm coming, didi," she said when really she was leaving. I sat at our desk. She craved attention. She'd exit your presence for it. She knew I'd chase her if she waited long enough. She begged for the touch of another. Like a cat, she couldn't help but press her head upon your hands and feet when she wanted you. She escaped to the bathroom and never came back. I left our desk to find her because she waited long enough entranced in thoughts of possible seekers. Not so unlike me, myself, and I watched her in the kitchen from across the tiled courtyard. Her right and then left brain were burning from the touch she desperately received from her surrogate mother. These senile, surrogate role models molding her face with their hands. Attempting to forcibly beautify her to make up for their own ugliness. And my hands were forgotten. Those that preferred to show her how to sculpt herself instead. Although she yearned for our hands, they all looked the same to her that close. I had to accept that despite the innocence of my hands, they'd been seen as other hands, those hands in motion to aggressively control her. My real hands were amputated and she and I were powerless together.