Poetry Friday

My poem for this week is taken from the amazingly funny book Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich by Adam Rex. I absolutely adore all of Adam Rex's work. And this book, along with its sequel Frankenstein Takes the Cake, are my favorite Halloween books. They are filled with silly monster pictures and poems in all different styles. There's the poor Phantom of the Opera who keeps getting popular songs in his head. There's the Creature from the Black Lagoon who goes swimming to quickly after eating. In Takes the Cake, there is the Headless Horseman blogging about his edibility woes. There's Medusa talking about her problems in school. All of them unique and all very funny. Plus Adam is constantly throwing in little jokes on every portion of the book. His books are the only ones where I regularly read the copyright information. And laugh. I don't often push books but if you haven't read these you must.

Count Dracula Doesn't Know He's Been Walking Around All Night With Spinach In His Teeth.
by Adam Rex

Will someone please just tell him? It looks so undignified.
The zombies almost mentioned it. The Headless Horseman tried.
But when he said, "Vhat are you staring at?" they lost their nerve and lied

It's been stuck in there for hours now. It's getting kind of sick.
I would offer him a toothpick, but he gets this nervous tic
if you ever come too close with any kind of pointed stick.

Well, really. Can you blame us if we don't know what to say?
His castle has no mirrors, so I guess it's there to stay.
What was a vampire doing eating spinach anyway?

Recycled Art

I love finding new artists, particularly ones who's work is a bit on the unusual side. When I was recently on Drawn.ca I came across an article on Ptolemy Eldrington, who's work I would definately say is unusual. It is also good for the planet and incredibly beautiful.

Ptolemy is a UK based sculptor who's primary medium is recycled material. And not just cans. One of his favorite media is used and discarded hubcaps. He bends them and cuts them to create some of the most beautiful and interesting animals I have seen. Below is a frilled lizard made entirely out of hubcaps.


Or an armadillo.

Ptolemy does not restrict himself to hubcaps though. He has created artwork out of old recycled shopping carts, kitchen appliances, and other large objects. His material is often installed in museums but some of them escape into the wild like this adorable penguin. Notice the Ford logo as an eye.

The ability to take something as solid and uninteresting as a hubcap and create beautiful creatures out of it is incredibly appealing to me. I'm fascinated by his figures and even more interested in his process. I will have to find out more about how he bends them. I'll see about finding a good interview with him and linking it. Fascinating work...and environmentally friendly.

Lightening the Mood

I'm having a sad day. It is one of those days where I'm going to be sad and angry all day. I'm researching the meat industry for work and that never fails to leave me in a bit of a bad mood. Whenever people ask my why I became a vegetarian, I simply say that I work a little too close to the meat industry for comfort. So in order to lighten my day I'm going to share a couple images that make me happy.

The first is my current desktop image. This is where I'm going to be in two weeks. If that thought doesn't make me happy, I don't know what will. This is a hotel in Playa Del Carmen Mexico. I'm heading down there in 14 days (not that I'm counting) for Jeff's brother's wedding.

The next image is fitting for Halloween. My first painting for painting class was of a jack-o-lantern (because I have a book in the works about one). I used this guy as my model. The painting turned out okay but the photo here is just perfect.

The next is a picture that a friend of mine at work gave me. This is one of the Shinkansen (bullet trains in Japan) passing in front of Mt. Fuji. It has decorated my desktop several times. I love the colors.


And lastly I would be remiss if I didn't post this image. I hope that Jen and Greg, and the rest of the family will forgive me for posting it. This is the couple who will be getting married in Mexico along with the rest of my inlaws. I'll have to actually post some images of my side of the family soon. Although I'm pretty sure my mother wouldn't be happy with that.

Again thanks for letting me share these. They brighten what looks to be an otherwise difficult day.

Yarn Harlot

This next statement may seem like an oxymoron but I swear to you that it is true. Last night I was reading a knitting book and laughing so hard I was crying. Over the weekend I picked up a copy of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee's Yarn Harlot: The Secret Life of a Knitter and breezed through it. I literally sat down on the couch at about seven and was almost finished by midnight. I devoured this book and with good reason...it's hilarious and oh so true.

I had picked up McPhee's At Knits End a couple years ago and had been reading periodically through it. That book is mostly little snippets (less than a page) about one aspect of knitting along with some great quotes. Yarn Harlot is a series of personal essays about projects McPhee has worked, letters to fictitous designers, and yarn stash related stories. One letter to a designer was so hilarious that I had tears rolling down my cheeks. When finished with the letter, I handed the book over to Jeff who laughed as well (non-knitter that he is). It was a fake apology to the designer for all the names she had called her the previous night while trying to knit a sock. Things like "colossal waste of time," "out of your everloving mind", and my favorite "a few jalapenos short of a zippy salsa". The whole letter was hilarious and I could easily see myself cursing a bad design in far less hilarious, but more colorful words.

Any knitters in the group will know the pull of a good yarn store and the practically standard purchasing of yarn you don't need. I myself own an entire cabinet full of yarn, some of which I freely admit will never be knit into anything. And remember I've only been knitting for a little over three years. McPhee talks about all of this, telling us with humor and a bit of horror the stories of her knitting life. One of my favorite essays is one on how to properly stash your yarn when it fills you closets. She suggests freezers (mothfree even), rarely used baking pans, sleeves of coats and suits, and tucked into the couch cushions. She talks about her family's response to her obsessive knitting and yarn collecting. Then again, this is a woman who buys yarn with cash so she won't leave a paper trail.

I loved the stories in the book and I still have two or three essays that I couldn't finish last night. I pushed until midnight to finish but finally had to go to bed. I would have been done sooner but when I was about half way through the book I had to set it down (hilarious as it is) and pick up my needles. I suddenly just wanted to knit. I consider a book about a hobby successful when I can't even get through it and already want to be working on that hobby. I did the same thing with Writing Down the Bones. I was writing even before the middle of the book. Yarn Harlot just made me laugh, made me appreciate the beautiful (and sometimes frustrating) hobby that is knitting, and more importantly it made me want to knit. A must have book for any knitter in your life.

Poetry Friday

I wanted to post yesterday, I really did. Work was insane and I had no time to really breathe much less think or write. So no post yesterday. And of course today is Friday and I feel compelled to post poetry.

My friend Lon mentioned in one of his comments that I need to post either The Raven (which I thought I had already posted about but my previous one was just about Poe) or The Cremation of Sam McGee. I had always planned to post The Cremation since it has to be one of my family's favorite poems (I posted another Robert Service here). All of us kids know that poem. Most of us can recite portions of it. Jeff and I use it as a standing joke whenever the weather turns cold. My worry is that it is too long for a post. But...not one to be daunted, here you go. Read to the end...seriously. Read all the way until the end. It's worth it.

The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead—it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Tuneless

It's official. I've lost my iPod. I'm tuneless.

I'm actually surprised by how much this simple loss affects me. I've lost tons of things before. Ask Jeff how often I lose my keys. In fact, I've been missing my keys for two days now without worry. I'm sure they are somewhere in the house and it is just a matter of finding them. I lost them coming home from knitting on Monday.

But losing my iPod has left me in something of a lurch. I'm shocked at how much I love that little piece of metal that holds a majority of my music collection. Everything is backed up on my computer but it has suddenly become less portable. Jeff is not always a fan of my music, which tends to run towards indie folk lately, so I tend to not play a lot of music at home over the speakers. Because of this, I keep my iPod with me almost constantly. It is my only source of music in the car other than the radio (which drives me crazy).

I know this is a bit of a shallow whine. I lived for years without an iPod. I have plenty of other things to keep me entertained. But for some reason this loss bothers me more than most. Sorry all. Just a shallow little whine. I'm over it. Now if you don't mind I'll be at the Apple store, drooling over the new Nanos.

Questionable Content

I needed another webcomic like I needed a hole in the head. Particularly a webcomic with over five years of back story. So when Jeff mentioned that he was reading Questionable Content and that I should check it out, I put it off for a little while. But everytime he started laughing while on the computer, it was because of this comic, and I knew I had to start reading.

Questionable Content follows the dramas and issues of Marten, an indie rock guy who happens to live with a woman who he has a crush on but who has too many issues to date him. He owns an AnthroPC named Pintsize who is constantly turning his life upside-down. He's dating his roommate's boss Dora, who owns Coffee of Doom coffeehouse. He's surrounded by neurotic friends, interesting parents, and constant dramatics. Throw in some great music references for fun, and you have a very enjoyable webcomic.

The strip is created by Jeph Jacques and publishes Monday through Friday. I spent the last two weekends reading all 1500 parts of the archive and now am a little sad that I have to wait for my daily dose of laughter. The characters are really a lot of fun. Hannelore, the OCD girl living upstairs, has to be my favorite. She's constantly cleaning and is a serious germaphobe. Yet she has some of the best lines in the comic. If I had to chose which of the characters I most resemble it would be Penelope, right down to the unemployed boyfriend (Just kidding, Jeff). But the best part about this strip for me, is that all the characters may be neurotic and odd but they are very realistic. I know people like these characters. The dialogue is realistic even if the situations are a bit odd. Plus I just love a good story and this supplies it. Best laughs I've had in a while. Check it out if you get the chance.

Still Not Back in Reality

I'm still on vacation today so I've been a little slow posting anything. The day has been wasted reading webcomics and playing with the cat. Mostly this is because the weekend was just so wonderful. I'm not yet in the mood to do anything productive. So instead I'm sitting out on the front patio, enjoying the gorgeous weather and a good cup of coffee and remembering.

I took Friday off and Jeff and decided that we would do some shopping on the way down to St. Louis. There was no hurry. So we packed that morning and headed out about noon. We stopped in Williamsburg at the outlet mall and did some serious shopping for work clothes. I got a ton of cute clothing and had an enjoyable day. I was working to finish my knitted shawl (which didn't get done) and the miles were flying by. About Hannibal (an hour and a half outside of St. Louis) Jeff realized that we had forgotten our dress clothes at home. My dress and his suit for the wedding were hanging on the bedroom door. There were many bad words said and then we both collapsed into giggles. It just seemed so much like us to forget.

So when we arrived in St. Louis, Jeff dropped me off at the mall and headed to Mens Warehouse. He found a really nice suit and then went to the mall. I'd been searching all over and couldn't find anything I like. He took me to one store and picked out a great black dress. I'm still impressed with his sense of fashion. I tried it on and we both agreed that it was perfect. So at 9 we finally arrived at the hotel to see two busloads of high schoolers heading in. Jeff and I just looked at each other and groaned. It was a high school band. Luckily for us their parents were there as well and we didn't hear them at night. That night we hung out with Jeff's brother and the soon to be bride (along with some of their friends) at the hotel bar playing cards. At midnight there was the required Steak n Shake run but then we all headed to bed.

The day of the wedding was a great mix of sunny and cloudy but cold. I had bought a back-up shawl in Williamsburg which worked out perfectly. I had abandoned my knitted one after realizing that I didn't even have the dress. The wedding took place in the afternoon outdoors in a pretty little park. It was a small service but very sweet. Jeff's brother got choked up on the vows and couldn't speak. My nephew (he's 2) spent the whole service running around the park and trying to get into every picture he could. The bride wore this beautiful strapless dress but ended up with a shawl. It was freezing in the shade. After the wedding service, we headed back to the bride and groom's house so they could change and then to the restaurant for dinner. After dinner (which was wonderful) we headed out to a bar to watch football and play more cards. We stayed for a little while but neither of us was used to the smoke and it started bothering both of us. We were home by 11 and I was asleep by 11:30.

The next morning I was up really early and sat down in the lobby writing and watching the high schoolers leave. I was impressed by how little I had heard them. At 10 we had breakfast with his parents and the bride and groom and then headed out. I drove most of the drive home since Jeff was so tired and the time just flew. I don't remember the last time a trip in total went that quick. We had a wonderful time. We spent tons of time with his brother and (now) wife. We met some very nice friends of theirs. We hung out with my in-laws and got to be part of a very sweet wedding. Next they get married in Mexico which I'm looking forward to. Warm weather, sandy beaches, wonderful people. That weekend will be even better than this last one. But I'm still pretty relaxed.

With Apologies

I have literally no time left this week. My work schedule and my social life have conspired against me to make sure that I have no free time. Tomorrow I'm heading down to St. Louis for the weekend and won't have any chance to post until at least Monday. And even this...this little post...doesn't really say anything other than to apologize. If you came here for new ideas or just updates on what going on with me, you're out of luck this week. I'll be better next week.

See you then. Until then enjoy this absolutely beautiful library in Chennai, India.

Knitting Challenge

I've joked that I'm the world's slowest knitter. When I first started knitting with my sister, almost three years ago, it took me almost nine months to finish my first scarf. I was so worried about messing up and having to start over. Now I've learned how to fix my work so that is less of a worry but I'm still slow. It took me almost two weeks of intermittent work to complete my first mitten. I won't even begin to estimate how long my first hat took me.

But last night I set up a challenge for myself. I'm heading down to St. Louis this weekend for Jeff's brother's wedding. The dress I'm planning to wear is short sleeved and St. Louis isn't expected to be balmy. So last night I started looking at shawl projects. I found one that estimates as taking 12 hours. I'm going to put that to the test. This afternoon I am running out to the yarn store to find my yarn. And then I'm going to try to finish this thing by Saturday. You would think that this would be plenty of time but remember, I am the world's slowest knitter. My knitting group was very positive so I'm enthused about it. Plus sometimes it's good to challenge yourself. And I'm hedging my bets with a lacier shawl pattern. We'll see if I finish.

Joy in the Process

When I was sixteen, I set up an old desk downstairs in my parent's basement. I had an old manual typewriter down there that clicked and clacked as I pounded the keys. You really had to work to hit them since it was so old. I set up an old hardside suitcase as a chair since none of the chairs down there were high enough. And I would spend hours down in the basement (0ne of my least favorite places) crafting a story. I wrote over 150 pages of a novel attempt while sitting cramped on a suitcase handle. But I couldn't stop.

In college I filled notebook after notebook with stories and personal notes. I graduated to a portable manual typewriter that I would sit on the floor with, nestling it in my lap as I sat indian style. I probably drove my neighbors crazy with the constant clack of the keys. I know I drove my roommate crazy. But I was obsessed. I loved writing. And I was completely fearless when it came to it. I would write anything.

Over the last ten years I have barely filled three notebooks. I have written four children's stories that I'm still revising, even though I wrote the first one over eight years ago. I've hardly touched a typewriter and can't even find my old portable. These past couple months I've been trying hard to restart my writing. I've been reading writing manuals. I've been carrying journals. And I've set up my own desk again. My office and library is upstairs in the second bedroom. And all I can show for the last year or so of effort is one and a half notebooks. And last night I started wondering if I was ever cut out to be a writer.

To say that I was a bit down last night is an understatement. Two people came to my rescue, Jeff and Kate Dicamillo. For the last year or so I've been listening to writer interviews wherever I can find them. One of my ones I listened to yesterday was one with Kate Dicamillo done for Barnes and Noble. It's a great interview but I was particularly interested in a poem that Kate mentioned having tacked to her writing desk. It is by Marge Piercy and has these lines: "The real writer is one who really writes. Talent is an invention like phlogiston after the fact of fire. Work is its own cure. You have to like it better than being loved." And reading those words I am reminded that lately I've been focused on getting published. I've been focusing on being loved, on being read. Not on the craft. Not on the process. Not on the journey. And that's why I've been afraid to write. I write with an editor already in my head telling me that it is not publishable. I forget that writing is its own reward. Sometimes just crafting the story is more fun than having it read. And the crafting portion is what I used to love. I never showed my work to anyone then. I just wanted to see where the characters would go.

And secondly Jeff helped me. I was upset and unsure and Jeff reminded me of something. He reminded me that work is great, but I don't have to be productive all of the time. Sometimes I can take the night off. Sometimes instead of staring at a blank piece of paper and cursing myself I can drink a glass of wine and read comics all evening. Sometimes I can do nothing more than watch a football game and no one will think the less of me. And sometimes I can remember that life is to short to be serious about. In the immortal words of the Indigo Girls "and the best thing you ever done for me, was to help me take my life less seriously. It's only life after all." And I remembered that it's only writing. I'm not curing cancer. No one will die if I don't write. And suddenly I feel a bit more free. A bit more playful. And much more like a writer. Joy is in the process. Work is its own cure.

Snow!!!

The earliest snowfall I remember was a week before Halloween. And even then it only left a dusting and was not even enough to accumulate. I remember driving up to fencing class in Ames in a blizzard on Beggars Night. But I don't remember ever having a year where we had a good deal of snow before Halloween. Yet this is what I woke up to this morning.

This is not just a dusting of snow but almost an inch settled on top of my air-conditioner. The cat keeps wondering why I won't open the door for her. It is cold out there. And snowy. I'm hoping it's not a sign of what the winter will be like.

And for no other reason than that I liked this picture which Jeff took of the cat, I'm posting it.

I can almost imagine her saying, "I'm not coming out until cold snowy-ness is gone."

Poetry Friday

Last night I got to go hear the phenomenal poet Maya Angelou speak at Drake University. This is my second time seeing Maya and I'm always awed and inspired by her words. Her poem Phenomenal Woman was one of the ones I read over and over in college. I've loved her poetry and I've found her to be an inspiring teacher.

Last night she talked about the people who have been inspiring for her. Her rainbow in the clouds. She talked about how we can be that inspiration for others. How we need to connect with others and not be timid and that will allow our light to shine. It was an inspiring message but one that Maya mixed with humor. She really has a great sense of humor. As always I was stunned to be in her presence. And I think the rest of the over 7000 people felt the same way. When she walked into the room we all rose to our feet instantly, cheering and clapping. She is just an amazing woman.

I liked her message of hope and thought I would post one of my favorite poems of hers about hope, and about power.

Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Pascal Campion

The first thing that crossed my mind when I saw the covers for Oogeley Boogeley 4 and 5 by Pascal Campion, is that here is an artist that reaffirms my faith in humanity. I know that's an awful lot to put onto an artist and illustrator that only a couple days before I hadn't even heard of. But something about Pascal's work just makes me so incredibly happy. His mix of bright colors, clean lines, and often cute subjects continually remind me that there are so many great things in life. And I will freely say that since I first saw those covers on a random post on Parka Blog, I have been actively seeking out his work. After my birthday (and our trip) in November, I'm going to pick up Oogeley Boogeley, whichever versions I can get my hands on.

Pascal offers plenty of work for me to find. He posts a new image pretty much daily on his regular blog and then another set of images on a joint blog with Matthieu Forichon called Scribilings. So each day I'm treated to not one but two new images. That kind of prolific work is impressive but only that much more impressive when you look at the regular quality of the work. I read a interview with him that was done back in 2007 (I'm a bit behind) and he mentioned how he tricks the inner critic that I'm going to try. He says that when he sits down to create he makes a quick mark on the page. That way it is no longer a blank page and he can avoid that "Blank sheet of paper fear." I'm going to have to try that since it is one of my issues.

Pascal is a San Francisco based artist who grew up in France. He has done illustration and animation work, along with his regularly done sketches. He sometimes draws images from his life, or goes the exact opposite way, creating new and interesting animal characters. And if I didn't already love the cute animals and wonderful people that Pascal creates, I would be excited by the bright colors and shades that he uses. Like this image below which is one of his new ones on his blog that feels moody but also warm and inviting.

Or this cute little loves story told in one picture. I am in awe of how he uses color in this one. We see one half of the story with moody blues and darkness. And the other with its purples and pinks and brightness. Just beautiful. Aptly titled Romeo and Juliet.

I am shocked by the variety of styles that he uses. His animal images have such a feeling of unreality. Very bright often exaggerated lines and colors. Whereas some of his family images tend to be very realistic although with a more stylized line. He's been recently doing a number of train images that have a dark, sketchy sort of feel to them. Always varied. And I constantly am delighted by some of the wild and wonderful characters that he brings to life. What can I say, his work just makes me happy.

Playing With Skype

When I was raiding regularly with the guild, one of my favorite parts was the ability to talk over VOIP system Ventrillo. I enjoyed raiding before Vent but after we got the chance to talk to each other I was hooked. Not only did raiding become quicker but it offered a more personal opportunity to get to know my guildmates. We would crack jokes that we would never had written out. We quoted movie lines. And we generally had a ton of fun.

I've been missing raiding with the guild although strangely I don't miss playing WoW at all. More than anything I miss the people. Raiding for me was always about handing out with my friends in the guild and less about actually killing anything. I've been hesitant to go back though. I know how much time the game involves.

But the experience with Ventrillo got me interested in other VOIP systems. So when a friend and I started writing emails that took a couple hours to actually write (that long), we moved our conversations over to the phone. But I don't have a ton of minutes and neither does he so we decided a couple weeks ago that I would get a Skype account. For those of you who don't know Skype is a Voice Over Internet Protocol system (VOIP). Basically it is a phone service through your computer. If I am logged on and you know my account name you can call me. And here's the best part. It's free. I'm actually more surprised that people aren't using this system in droves. It's great for free marathon phone conversations. Well I had signed up weeks ago and then didn't do anything with it. I just haven't had time at night to talk. These past couple weeks I'm hardly ever home. And last night we decided, after an hour on the phone, to see how the system worked.

I have to say that compared to Ventrillo, Skype is so much easier and cheaper (Ventrillo charges a small monthly fee). There was no push to talk. There was no loss of connection or log offs. We just got a chance to talk. I used my headset but a built in microphone worked just fne. I could sit on the computer and work on drawing while I talked or sit on the floor and play with the cat. With the headset my hands were free. And one of these nights (when a major baseball game isn't on) I'll unplug the headset and just use the computers mic. Then I can wander throughout the living room and talk. For a free service, this is just incredible. Free phone service! Now I just have to get the rest of my family to get an account.

Disney Weekend

I spent this weekend on the couch. Other than breakfast on Saturday and dinner that night with my parents I never left the house and hardly left the couch. I was feeling fine, I just wasn't particularly ambitious. It was a thoroughly relaxing weekend although this morning I could have done with a couple more hours of sleep.

Friday's weather left quite a bit to be desired so I decided that we would stay in and order pizza. A nice thick pan pizza sounded wonderful on a day when it had been drizzling all day and the temperature had barely topped fifty. I was cold and ready to relax. So we ordered pizza and I decided that I needed to watch a movie. I've had Wall-E sitting on my shelf for months now. I'd borrowed the movie from my mom and although I'd really wanted to see it, I just hadn't made the time. I giggled and ahhhed through the entire film. It was just so funny and cute and poignent. Jeff thought it was okay but I think it might be my favorite Pixar so far. I tend to like books and movies with a bit of a message this one had it in spades. I was impressed by Pixar's guts in putting out a film that challenges our consumer lifestyle. That is a bold move and one that I haven't seen from a film company in a while. Not that Disney didn't do its standard merchandising mania when the movie first came out. But the story was wonderful, the characters were cute, and I loved the humor. A great movie with a big heart. Pixar films beat modern Disney films anyday.

Jeff and I went to breakfast the next morning and then did a bit of shopping. When I got back home I was in a painting mood. I broke out some new colors and worked on my picture for class. I'm almost done but I don't think I'll be posting my first attempt. A little too rough still. But I love the gouache. I love the bright colors and the thickness and how easy it feels to work with. Time flies when I'm painting and I look up at the clock after what feels like 20 minutes to find that an hour has past. It will be a hobby I continue to play with.

We had dinner with my parents on Saturday night at the restaurant my sister works at. It was nice to get a chance to see her. We had been talking about going to the zoo on Sunday but she had an 18 hour work day the day before and understandably begged off. Which actually worked out okay for me. A couple weeks ago, my little sister asked me for a biography of Walt Disney. Now I'm a die-hard Disney fanatic. I've been to the parks a ton of times and still would love to go back. I'd go yearly if I could. I adore most of the Disney films and have had a huge interest in Disney himself for as long as I could remember. I had brought her a couple biographies and realized that one of the ones I had, I'd never read. It's a massive book. Well over 900 pages and with dense type. I've been reading it whenever I get the chance over this past week and am completely hooked. I actually plan my lunches alone recently so that I can read. So Sunday I grabbed breakfast and my book and read ALL day. I started reading at 8:30 in the morning and stopped at 10:30 at night.

If I bad mouth the Disney Studios occassionally it is because I know where they came from. Walt Disney himself had very little interest in making money. Money for him was a means to an end. The more money a film brought in the better his next movie could be. He pumped all his profits back into the company. For many years he didn't even collect a salary so that there would be mroe for film-making. He was an idealist in some ways. I have been fascinated with his early career, when he was still making the Alice pictures (before Mickey). He would beg and borrow to make his pictures. They hardly ever made him any money but he just kept working.

And he was incredibly anti-sequel. After his Silly Symphony, The Three Little Pigs, came out, people were clamoring for him to make more pig films. They wanted a pig sequel. Disney famously said, "You can't top pigs with pigs" and went on to make other movies. He was always interested in pushing the envelope to make his films better or more innovative. He was not a man to rest on his laurels. Which is why I have become somewhat ashamed at the Disney Company in the last 20 years or so. As they pump out Cinderella 2 and Peter Pan 3, all to make a fast buck, I realize what the company is in business for. And I think back to where the company started and just shake my head. Walt would never have stood for it.

Epicute

It's not often that I find a website that combines two of my very favorite things in the world. In this case, food and cuteness. I've been slowly gathering blogs that make me incredibly happy. This particular one is a favorite. I'm not sure how I found it. It was mentioned on one of the blogs I read but when I went back I couldn't find the reference.

Epicute is a blog created by a young woman named Sonya who searches the web to find some of the most amazingly creative and cute food items that people are making out there. There are cupcakes, candies, cakes, bento boxes, and more. She posts almost twice daily and each image is just a bit of sweetness.

If that image didn't hook you, how about this one. Yep, those little adorable bears are made out of sugar.

And I have to throw in one of Sakurako Kitsa's Bento Boxes. I had seen these before but they are way too amazing not to share.

One warning though, if you don't crave sweets after reading this blog, there is seriously something wrong with you.