Thursday, 23. April 2009, 01:41:08
Happy Earth Day, Earthlings. Here's my little contribution--if you haven't seen it yet, check it out:
Morsbags. I know plastic shopping bags pile up around my house like snowdrifts until I take them to be recycled (and as a filthy secret, I used to THROW THEM AWAY). But I don't anymore. I don't always use a bag when I go shopping--sometimes I forget to take one with me--but with bags in the car, it's tougher to forget.
People whine and cry about all sorts of things, but I think if they could REALLY understand the sheer weight and volume of garbage we produce, well--I hope they would whine and cry chiefly about that. And I'm no saint, by a long shot. But here's my bit. I might even break out the sewing machine and make a few of these bags, just for giggles.
And lordy, let me tell you, I HATE SEWING.
Their blurb:
let’s do something positive to reduce the hideous number of plastic bags being used - 1 million are consumed per minute globally - of which hundreds of thousands end up in the oceans.
the idea is to get together with people in your local community, drink wine and make reusable cloth bags (from old duvet covers, curtains from charity shops etc) and hand them out to the unsuspecting public for free on specified dates outside different supermarkets.
meet new people, do something marvellous for the planet and beat other pods (groups) of baggers with your morsbag tally.
go to www.morsbags.com to be a part of a wonderful thing!
p.s. non-commercial/ non-profitable - just full of beneficial things for everyone, especially whales!
Normally, I'm not that fond of these feely-good movements. This one, however, I can see working.
NO MORE PLASTIC BAGS!
Wednesday, 22. April 2009, 15:51:24
It's what I'm doing today, despite a spring cold and being at work. Today I signed a contract for a story that will appear in the September issue of
Cabinet des Fees; I'm listening to Stephane Grapelli on Pandora; and finally, I've decided what I want to do with the rest of my life, without hesitation or guilt. It's no revelation, really; it's what I've been working towards all along--writing, drawing, beekeeping (as much as possible--more on that later), gardening, and just generally being happy with who I am.
On beekeeping--two of our hives are in trouble. They have a heavy mite load and we've seen many worker bees exhibiting Deformed Wing Virus. So the games have begun, apparently. It's discouraging, but par for the course, if what I've been reading is common across the country. We very well could lose the two hives from last year--but that's the worst-case scenario. Right now, the mandate is to get the mites under control--if such a thing is possible.
Friday, 17. April 2009, 03:19:08
I am in love with Amanda Palmer and her latest album, Who Killed Amanda Palmer, AND I'm in love with the Dresden Dolls. I never get these things until it's almost too late.
*sigh*
Thursday, 16. April 2009, 23:30:34
Haircutty time. I got tired of the lion's mane. Warned Greg. When he saw it, he said "Ah well, at least it'll grow out." *weeps*
It's not THAT short!
Read more...
Thursday, 16. April 2009, 15:51:53
I don't know if stuff is really happening, or if it's all in mah head these days. I sledgehammered my way through a sticky chapter (still don't know if it's going to make the cut, though.) The three first chapters that had been screwing with my head got axed.
Bought that Moleskine notebook. Check it. I have PLANS.
Been looking at submission guidlelines to a couple online mags. Excited, but so far that's it.
Also,
Dr. Sketchy's Anti Art School is now in my humble home town, AND I AM SO HITTING THAT. I can't wait for May 11th. Drinks. Drawing. Dames. What more could a girl want?
So what else? Bees. I've got tomato plants up the yingyang. *ouch* More ideas than my tiny skull can handle. If I didn't need to eat, or require shelter, I wouldn't bother going to work. I've got so much stuff to keep me busy as it is, how could I ever get bored?
Clones. I need one or two to do the heavy lifting...
Tuesday, 14. April 2009, 02:27:16
Well, unless you count chevre as hurting the goats. Dinner salad: mixed greens, cranberries, walnuts, Granny Smith apples and low-fat ranch dressing. With lashings of cheap rose and accompanied by wholegrain bread.
OM NOM NOM
Sunday, 12. April 2009, 19:50:02
Second drawing completed this year. 8 X 10 unmatted giclee prints available, $20.00 including postage. More (hopefully) to come.
Sunday, 12. April 2009, 18:49:20
I never liked bonging vibraphone jazz until now. Stephon Harris is the man.
I feel like an old fart, now.
Friday, 10. April 2009, 01:47:46
I'm sitting here hiding from my manuscript, getting ready to go to a special Thursday-night movie quiz at the Irish pub, and getting an ever-so slight buzz from the pint-sized can of Oranjeboom lager I bought down at Trader Joe's. I have white paint on both my hands from the two deep supers I just nailed together and painted (no one explained to me that OIL paint is simply a heathen bitch to get off of things).
I'm thinking about a million different things at once. I'm considering what all I want my novel to be about. I feel as though this thing I started in October (but which has elements from many earlier efforts) is beginning to flesh out now like a swelling bud (sorry; I told you I had a slight buzz on). I'm thinking about Northwest Coast Native art; the masks of the Haida and Bella Coola, specifically, of mysteries I can't hope to understand, and how the thing or experience imagined is often so different from the object in reality. The divergence of being. The multifarious nature of Nature, of insect life, and how my new bees will do when they get here--the packages are supposed to arrive tomorrow or Saturday. The plum tree outside my window is in full, pink bloom; the sky beyond it is deep, dark gray, and the earth below is filled with golden evening light, as if my world was painted by Jan Vermeer.
I'm done ( I think) trying to figure out what it is I want to write, because what I want to write is about everything. Memory, being, forgetfulness, love, art, death, violence of loss, grief, desire, life. I'm doubtful I'm up to the task, but I'm stupid enough to keep trying. I have no idea where this thing is taking me and I'm far too busy doing stuff to really worry about whether or not I'm doing it the way I ought--am I writing enough, drawing enough, selling enough--I don't care--or at least not right now, heh.
Life is many things, not just one thing. The same can be said for art.
I'm having a hell of a time--and I mean that in the best of ways.
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