For a Lark

I've been drawing robins recently. I'm not sure why. For the past year or so I've been drawing this one particular robin, a character with a mask. Sometimes he's a superhero. Sometimes he's a villian. I think there is probably a graphic novel in here somewhere but I haven't taken the time yet to find it. But yesterday over lunch I sat down and created these images really quick on MS Paint. Nothing artistic. Nothing incredible. Just pure silliness. And I thought I'd share.

It's the devious General Robin with his second-in-command Archduke Cardinal.

On a different note, I'm getting the hell out of dodge this weekend and there won't be any postings for the rest of the week and probably Monday. I'll try to get something up Tuesday but it's a vacation day and I'm not making any promises. Have a safe and enjoyable Memorial Day weekend!

Sweet Scheduling

First of all I want you to know that I'm a freak when it comes to trips. I love to travel and the excitement of each trip often starts for me the moment I realize that I'm actually going to get to go. That's even before the trip is booked. I plan so far in advance that Jeff is usually tired of hearing about the place by the time we actually get there. I read guidebooks and fiction about the place, scour maps, read website reviews, do Google image searches, and generally about two months out I start a countdown to the beginning of the trip. Did I mention I'm a freak?

So yesterday on my lunch hour I worked out my countdown to this upcoming trip in July. I listed out all the days on an excel spreadsheet until we leave. I then counted the number of days. But that wasn't enough for this one. I highlighted all the days that were weekends for me, so then I counted the number of work days and made that its own column. Workdays tend to go slower than weekend days and practically count double in my book. Then, because I really am a geek, I figured out the workday/weekend day ratio for each of the days. That's when I looked at my schedule and realized something incredible.

I only have one weekend until the beginning of August that is a standard two day weekend. The rest are all three day weekends or more. In fact I only have two full five day weeks until the beginning of August as well. I'm going to forget what a normal schedule feels like, and I'm really excited about that. One of the only bonuses of these stupid furlough days is that I'm taking a lot more three day weekends. Add that to my already odd schedule where every other week I have a Monday off and you get a pretty sweet looking schedule. And all the days off in June and early July are without having to take a single day of vacation. It's a pretty sweet looking schedule.

So I may not actually need this trip to help me relax. I may have a relaxing enough summer without it. But I'm not reading all those guidebooks and plowing through Michener's Alaska for nothing.

Michael Paul Smith

As you all should know by now, I'm fascinated by art that's a little out of the ordinary. I love when an artist uses a new technique or medium to bring something completely new into the world. When it comes to Michael Paul Smith's imagery, it's all about technique. What looks like a simple photograph found in an old photo album or attic, suddenly becomes so much more.
Here are a couple of examples of Smith's photography. I love the nostalgic feel of the photos. They are exactly like images my parents had of their houses growing up. The 1950s cars and the old fashioned storefronts that we simply don't see anymore.
Each images is like a little piece of history. But it's a history that didn't exist. What you are looking at are models. Elaborate and beautiful little models. Smith has created little scenes that he then takes out into the real world to photograph.

The trees and the power lines behind the house above are real, everything else is just a model, as is shown below.

Below is a great example of how those models are built. Smith offers insight into how he creates his images on his Flickr page. He mixes the model world with the real one very effectively to create something of a distortion. There are a number of images on his Flickr page that somehow include live actors (usually himself) inside his model. It is a fantastic trick of the eye that makes me wish I spent more time taking pictures. Smith creates his own little worlds and I'm awfully glad he does. Interesting work.

As is typical lately I found this artist through Lines and Colors which has rapidly become my favorite site for art. I am constantly inspired by the artists that the blogger (Charley Parker) writes about. There was also a nice collection of Smith's work on Beautiful Life, a website that I'm going to have to check out further.

The artist with his models.

I Like for Things to be Story-Shaped

This fantastic first line comes from "The Flints of Memory Lane", a short story in Neil Gaiman's book Fragile Things. I get a chill listening to it on audio book. It's a line that rings true for me. I do like things to be story shaped. I like the way books make things so much clearer. There is character and plot and progress. But as Gaiman is quick to point out, reality is very rarely story shaped. Perhaps that is why I read so much. Perhaps that is why I tell stories.

I don't remember when I started telling myself stories. I don't remember anything before five so I'll say then. I know I was in middle school when the thought occurred to me that I should write them down. Sadly that only happens some of the time. But the stories keep coming. In the car I sit at stoplights and talk to myself. At home while folding laundry I create dialogue between characters. I move plots forward at breakneck speeds. All in my head. I've been doing this since I was young. It's not going away anytime soon.

I couldn't sleep last night. It was way too hot for sleep (over 80 all night). And as I lay there in bed I thought about my stories and my non-existent writing and I wondered where the disconnect was. I could have written dozens of novels with the stories I've created. I could have already been published. But I rarely write them down and I thought about why that's the case. And I came to a startling conclusion. I'm ashamed of my stories. I have been for years. For a while I would try to force myself to stop. Tell myself that if I stopped telling these silly stories then I could write those great works of fiction that I knew I had in me. Or I could write those wonderful children's stories that would make children happy. Or I could write anything worthwhile. Instead what I tell myself are silly romance stories, or relationship dramas. I created characters who went about their normal lives and had normal dreams. And those stories have never seemed worthwhile to me. Always more like fluff than good fiction. But I think I'm going to try an experiment. I'm going to try writing the stories that are inside me. Stop waiting for those great works of literature to come and just write my silly little tales and see what happens. See where it goes. "I like for things to be story-shaped". Let's see where that goes.

Poetry Friday

Tonight I'm heading out for the first baseball game of the season. I can't believe that more than a month of season has gone by before I've gotten to a game. I used to go all the time. So in honor of the ballpark and the great game of baseball, today's poem is the classic Casey at the Bat. It's a long poem but one of the ones that has been a favorite since childhood.

Casey At the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that--
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped--
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville--mighty Casey has struck out.

Glossophobia

No it's not the fear of shiny things. And it's not the feel of slick floors. It's a much more common fear and one that has kept me from posting for the last couple of days. Glossophobia is the fear of public speaking, something that I and most of the rest of the world shares. Fear of public speaking (or stage fright) is the most common fear in the world. It's more common than fear of spiders or the dark or clowns (and we all know how creepy those clowns can be).

So when a gentleman from a different agency called me last week and asked me whether I would be willing to speak at his group's annual meeting, I said...um...oh....you know how much of a terrible speaker I am...well...Okay...sure....I'd love to. I'm so eloquent huh? So all last week I fretted about this speech but didn't bother to sit down and actually write it. Over the weekend I fretted more, and slept a lot less, and still didn't write the damn thing. It was only when Sunday night came that I started writing. On Monday (my day off) I worked up a proper speech, created a powerpoint to go along with it, and practiced a couple of time. On Tuesday I was moody, stressed, cramped up, and still not sleeping. I went home that night and practiced a bunch more times. I still wasn't feeling ready but Wednesday morning rolled around anyway. And I went off to speak.

It's strange how when you're talking about something you know, you end up not needing any notes. I spoke for 35 minutes, never once stuttering too badly. I took questions, I made jokes, and overall I think it went really well. Of the three people presenting that day I felt that mine was the most on target. And afterwards I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd had fun. I'd gotten some compliments. And I'd managed to actually sound like I knew what I was talking about. This is the fourth speech I've given this year and so far it was the most relaxing. I might be getting better. Shedding a little of that phobia. At least until the next speaking opporturnity comes around. Then it will be...well...um...you know how much I hate speaking...well...Okay and a couple more sleepless nights.

Watching the Derby

Now I know that right at this moment my sports fanatic (and racing fanatic) friend Dan is chomping at the bit to tell me that that Preakness was this weekend, not the Derby. And he would be right. But hold your horses Dan. It isn't horse racing I'm talking about, it's Roller Derby.

I had a fantastic weekend filled with family. On Friday night my little sister, my parents, and Jeff and I went out to dinner at one of my favorite Thai places in town. It was incredibly tasty and my sister even agreed to split a mango and sticky rice dessert with me (a rare treat). Then we hung out and talked at my parent's house until late. While I was there the phone rang and it was my older sister. She wanted to know if we would go to the roller derby with her on Saturday. One of her coworkers was making her debut and she wanted to have a group there to support her. Of course we couldn't pass that up. I told her we'd pick up tickets and that we'd meet her there that night.

Saturday we had no where to be until 7 so Jeff and I bummed around town, shopped, ran errands, ate breakfast and dinner out. It was heavenly. During the day I had stopped in to see my older sister at her work, the beauty supply shop Ulta. While I was there she suggested that I get my eyebrows waxed (they needed it). And who should be doing my waxing but the same girl who would be in the derby that night. We talked about how nervous she was and I tried to reassure her. She looked like a roller derby girl.

That night we headed down to the events center and found a pretty decent crowd at the derby. I've never been before (heck I've never seen roller derby before) so I had little idea what to expect. With a beer in hand I settled in to watch. Roller derby for those who haven't gone has got to be one of the best places to people watch ever. I loved the costumes which went from risque to downright weird. The girls are often wearing very short shorts and fishnet stockings. I saw furry leg warmers, tutus, and one woman with feathers glued to her eyelashes. Then the match started. A roller derby match is broken up into jams, where a jammer tries to score by getting past the pack once and then making it through them again for points. Our girls racked up massive points quickly against an inexperienced team but it was pretty exciting. There were girls falling all over the place. My sister's coworker ended up being the first person in the penalty box but had a ball. There were body checks and fast skating and skimpy costumes everywhere. Even the participants names were hilarious. A great time.

After the derby we headed out for drinks with my sister, her fiance, one of her friends (along with her son), and my sister's coworker who was beaming from ear to ear. We stayed out way too late and I was exhausted by the time I finally stumbled into bed. Sunday I met some family for brunch and then Jeff and I headed home. I've been working on a presentation that I have to give on Wednesday which is why this is so late. But it was a wonderful weekend and I'm sure I'll be heading back to the roller derby again. I probably won't go every week but it's nice to know that we have a team, and that they're a lot of fun to watch.

Animation Evening

It's not often that I have to work a ton of overtime at my job but last night was one of those days. I had an incredibly stressful project that needed to be finished that night for the governor's office so I ended up staying at the office much later than usual. Mentally I was drained by the time I got into the car so I called Jeff and told him I was picking up Taco John's (my nearly obsessive guilty pleasure) and did he want anything. A bagful of cheesy, fried, and greasy food later, I settled into the couch to enjoy one of my other favorite activity, watching animated films.

The last time Jeff and I were in Target I noticed a copy of Wallace and Gromit's The Wrong Trousers for a decent price. I love Wallace and Gromit so I did a little persuading (okay I begged) to be able to buy it. Last night I sat down and popped it into my computer. Jeff was working on his last paper for the semester and I didn't want to bother him. The Wrong Trousers was the second Wallace and Gromit film done and I still think it is their best. If you haven't seen it yet, I would recommend finding a copy. It has the duo playing foil to a very crafty penguin. I won't tell you more because I don't want to spoil it. Thirty minutes of pure enjoyment.

After the film itself was done, I watched the Making Of special with Nick Park and Aardman Studios. I got to watch how Nick moved the characters, what a typical shot was like, and a bit about his history as an animator. It was fun but in the back of my mind all I could think about was the fire that Aardman Studios had in 2005 destroying over 30 years of props. It was really tough to think of all of those sets, all of those clay figures, all that art simply gone.

After Wallace and Gromit, I headed over to one of my favorite places to spend time, Animation Blog. This blog, which posts regularly, provides commentary and links on animated films from all over the internet. It focuses more on short films than on the full length features that hit the theaters. And almost all of the films that it offers are wonderful. Some are sweet and sad, others are comical, and still others simply make you think. Most of the great animation being produced right now is simply beautiful. Often the mix of digital and hand-drawn can have some amazing effects. I watched a couple different films off of Animation Blog but then ended up getting sucked onto the YouTube for Gobelins and that's where I stayed.

Gobelins is an art school in France that seems to have one of the best animation programs in the world. The films that these kids are putting out are well above anything that the major studios can put out. So many of them are thoughtful, funny, and sweet, sometimes all at once. I know that when I start a Gobelins film that I'll see something unique and beautiful. Of all the animation that I've watched, these tend to be the films that draw me. I watched probably 15 to 20 of those films last night. The school has just released their film introductions for the upcoming animation festival, Annecy International Film Festival. With only a minute or two these film intros made me practically beg to see the rest. Beautiful, powerful, and exhilarating. This is animation at its finest.

Image from last year's Annecy offering Mostera Deliciosa. In fact this link will lead you to a youtube video for all four of Gobelins film introductions for 2009. You need to click on it. Seriously.

Any Vacancies?

I've become a huge fan of Neatorama recently. It posts several times a day with bizarre, unique, and interesting news stories/articles from around the Internet. It will summarize the actual article, offer a picture, and then links directly to the source. I tend to prefer it over other sites because it doesn't just recycle others material as its own. The only problem I've found with the site, is that once I start clicking, the interesting stories seem to lead to more interesting stories. I can lose whole days just following their links.

A couple of days ago they had a link for some of the more unique hotels in the world. The story included information on a wine cask hotel in the Netherlands, a hotel in Costa Rica built out of plane, an undersea lodge in Puerto Rico, and the one I fixated on, Propeller Island City Lodge in Berlin, Germany. The image the site chose for an example wasn't the best but I was intrigued by the idea of a hotel where every room has a theme. Now you'll say that you've heard of these theme hotels before. Where one room is a fairy land with castle included, the next has a western theme, one has an undersea motif, and so on. This isn't like that. These are not motifs and they are certainly not cheesy.

All of the rooms are pretty tastefully appointed although some of them may not sit well with the more puritanical American ideas. Many of them are very simple rooms, a single bed in a spartan room with pictures of the ocean on either side, an interesting forest room where the bed is outlined with tree stumps. These are fun and unique. But many of the rooms have a bit of an edge to them. One room offers a stage along one of the walls with curtain and single chair set up in front. Another (pictured below) had a platform with a cage on it with a bit of a dungeon look.

My favorite room was a hammock type room where the bed was suspended well off the floor. The industrial look appealed to me although with all the wires and boards holding the bed up there was little room for anything else. Others have a more classic look. Or these was a prison cell complete with drop down bed and stand alone toilet. This is humorously named The Freedom Room.


One room was filled with mirrors tilted at every angle with a single bed in the middle. Another offered just a queen sized white bed lit entirely with blue lights. Others were a bit on the creepy side. This more interesting design offers a split bed that doesn't encourage cuddling. A gigantic guillotine rests right in the middle.

This is clearly a destination hotel and I would think would only be comfortable for a night or two. But I can easily see myself booking a night or two there. The only problems would be figuring out which room to choose. Too many choices!

Images pulled from Unique Hotels of the World. Click the hotel name above to see the rest of the rooms.

Learning to Love the Accordion

There is a phrase I never thought I would write. But life is funny and after spending a couple hours last night with an Irish band that included two accordions (one piano, one button) I've developed a greater appreciation for the most maligned of instruments. I'm still not a fan of the polka (the music most often associated with an accordion) but in Irish music the sound can be awfully sweet.

I'm being offered a slow musical education. One of my knitting friends, Lee, has a husband who plays in an Irish band. We've had our knitting nights correspond with their jam sessions a couple of times but last night was one of the few times where it's really been just Lee and I (and her husband and Jeff). We knit for an hour or two at the coffee shop before the musicians arrived and then settled in to knit and listen to some music. Lee sat next to me and pointed out all the instruments. I learned how different tippers make different sounds on a bodhran. I learned how an accordion can sound exactly like a harmonica. I learned how there are accordions with make different noises on expansion or contraction. And I learned that the sound of a lone fiddle can produce one of the sweetest, saddest sounds known to man. In short, I had a fantastic time.

The group is made up of whoever wants to come. Last night there were two fiddle players, a guitar player, two accordion players (one who's a local politician), a dulcimer/harmonica player, a bodhran/whistle player, and Lee's husband Connor who is a mandolin player. I got introduced to most of the musician and then just sat back and listened while Lee and the other wife there explained the pieces played and how the instruments worked. Most of the time one player would just start a tune while the rest quickly joined in. Lee's husband was the only one reading music, while the rest played by ear. It was clear that they were having a good time and playing for the sheer enjoyment of it. One of the fiddle players is just learning the songs and spent most of the night either kidding or being kidded about her slower playing. She seemed to have a blast. At the end of the night she wowed all of us with a rendition of Niel Gow's Lament For the Death of His Second Wife (a very nice rendition here with some wonderful images of Scotland) which left the musicians and the listeners speechless.

My plan had been to leave at 9:30 after about an hour of playing. Jeff headed off about that time and I thought about it. I haven't been to bed before 11 in well over a week. But I stayed. I simply couldn't pull myself away. I stayed until the musicians began to put away their instruments and I still wasn't tired. Home by 11 and in bed shortly afterwards. I'm a bit tired today but it was worth it. I'll be heading back for the next jam session. I've always loved Irish music and I'm slowly learning to love the accordion.

I'm a Follower

First and foremost you need to know that I'm a web-junkie. The internet is a bit like crack to me. I'm completely hooked. I jump from website to website, often losing track of my original path as I fall further and further down the rabbit hole. It's really a wonder that I get anything done. One discovery leads to another and then another until hours have gone by and I have no idea where the time has gone. I read at least 30 webcomics daily and my list of blogs that I read grows by the day.

It used to take me way too long to keep track of all those, particularly since so many blogs only update occasionally. But I would check each daily to see whether they had posted anything new. That is until I discovered the magic button that took away all that lost time. Of course I'm talking about the Follow button. If you aren't following the blogs you read, you're really wasting tons of time. For those of you with Gmail/Google accounts, this is as simple as logging into to Google and going to your dashboard. That has your RSS feed that will allow you to see which blogs have updated and when. No more checking needlessly.

I started by following the blogspot websites. They were easy. I would just click the follow button and add them to my list. But I was so frustrated that I couldn't follow other blogs. That I still had to manually check them. That is until I discovered the add feature. As long as a blog offers an RSS feed, it can be followed. It doesn't matter which platform it falls under. You simply need to go to your dashboard, click on the add button by the blogs you follow, and insert the URL. Done. Now I only have one or two sites (those without feeds) that I have to check manually.

I can't even begin to tell you how much time this simple tool has saved me. No more hunting to see when people update. No more going to websites needlessly. Instead just one click on the blog name (or the post name for those only interested in the one listing) and you're there. So what can I say, I'm a follower. But it makes my web addiction just a little more tolerable.

Why Build Square Buildings?

I'm in the mood for something fun and silly. I had an amazing weekend filled with friends and family and then promptly spoiled it by going back to work. Today's not been my greatest day ever. I'm spending too much of my time at work thinking. I've been a little fragile about both my physical therapy (yes I'm somehow still going) and my work situation so I figure that I need to distract myself. If I distract myself long enough, the problems go away right?

And what better way to distract myself than to look at pictures of interesting buildings online? Or am I the only one who does that? Actually what got this post started was a building that was featured on Neatorama. The image below is Waldspirale (or Forest Spiral) an apartment building in Darmstadt, Germany. The building has no straight wall, forms a gigantic U shape, and has a forest planted on the roof. So it's pretty much my dream apartment building.

It's not only the lack of straight walls that fascinates me, check out those windows. I love that each one is unique and the difference adds something of a Seussian quality to the structure.

Looking for pictures of the Waldspirale led me to this building, Krzywy Domek or The Crooked House in Sopot, Poland (pictured below). I'm not sure what is housed in this building but I love the crazy whimsy of the place. Be careful when looking up images of this one, after about ten or so pictures I started feeling a bit sick. Apparently this one crosses the boundary between fascinating architecture and too much for my little brain to spatially organize. Still an incredible structure.

I realized that in all the time I've been writing this blog I haven't discussed my fascination (bordering on obsession) with Antoni Gaudi's buildings in Barcelona. How can you not love a building that looks like it was designed for hobbits? The Casa Batllo, which used to be an apartment building in Barcelona, includes such unique characteristics as a dragon-scale roof, round doors, mosaic tile walls, and spiral ceilings. It is the place of dreams. I would recommend checking out the full photo gallery on the building's website.

Gaudi created a number of buildings and parks throughout Barcelona, Spain. His style is focused on rounded walls, whimsical additions, stained glass, and plenty of oddness. I've been dreaming of going to Barcelona for years in order to see Casa Batllo, Park Guell, Casa Mila (pictured below), and perhaps Gaudi most famous work, Sagrada Familia.

An image of Sagrada Familia. This church was unfinished at the time of Gaudi's death in 1926 and is still under construction since his full design for the building was not known at his death. Consider it the longest construction project ever.

Poetry Friday

My little sister Emilie told me last weekend that she loves being one of the few family members who reads this blog because she gets quite a few shout-outs. And while that's not the main reason I mention her frequently (that's mostly because I love her and love spending time with her), she is correct that she's one of my only family members who reads this. My dad will check in occasionally but a lot of my family is simply not that computer literate or perhaps not that interested (for my own ego I'm going with the computer literate one :-) ).

So today's post is for my older sister who won't get a chance to read this. And no worries on that. I'm actually just happy that she reminded me of this poem that I can share. We are both Pablo Neruda fans, particularly his love poems, and this is her favorite. So without further ado.

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Notebook Heaven

I can sometimes think of myself as a technologically savvy person. Many of my coworkers ask me for technical help and I figure I know enough to be somewhat dangerous. But in comparison to most of the people I know, I'm pretty low on the tech scale. I can't build my own computer, I can't write code, and I'm still trying to master simple things like html. So for others I'm considered tech wise, and for others I'm still very much learning. So it's strange to say that when it comes to writing, I'm something of a luddite. I've been writing in paper journals for decades now and am not planning to give up the practice anytime soon. My mother was trying to talk me into buying a iPad for my journaling (strange since she doesn't ever use the computer or really know how to turn it on). But I'm stubborn on this point. If I'm not handwriting my journal I'm typing it on an old manual typewriter. It's just how I roll. :-)

This morning I picked up my purse to head out the door and realized that I probably have at least 10 pounds of stuff in it. No wonder my neck hurts lately. And I did an inventory before I left the house. I carry a notebook for journaling. It's nothing fancy, in fact I bought it at Target. It has owls on it and I feel okay writing any crap I can think of into it. I don't feel like my writing has to be good to live up to a beautiful journal. Next to that journal I have my food journal. This is where I write down what I eat and how many calories it has. Next to that is my day planner. I have the Sierra club, weekly calendar that I've been using to track my personal appointments. And when I've been good at keeping my calories down I add a sticker for the day. So for those of you keeping track at home, that's three notebooks. But I'm sadly not done yet.

I also have started carrying a sketchbook. I'd been doodling in my journaling notebook but the lines and the thinness of the paper annoys me. So I happened to be at Walgreens and grabbed an inexpensive sketchbook. I have my pencil and click eraser tucked into the spiral binding so everything is ready when I want it. And lastly I have a tiny little notebook, not much larger than the palm of my hand, that I use to write down things I want to remember. Quotes I've heard, book and movie recommendations, artists I like, pretty much anything that comes to mind that isn't long enough for a journal article. This one is a tiny little spiral bound notebook with a penguin on it (did I mention I'm a small child at heart?). And of course the rest of my purse is dedicated to those things that I actually need to carry around with me: keys, phone, wallet.

So if I've been wondering why my purse is so heavy lately, that is the reason. I have five different notebooks that I carry with me. I should consolidate them down. I should journal in my sketchbook or write my notes in the planner. I should use the food journal as my day planner. Than I would only have two journals. But the sad part is that I like having all these things. I like having different journals for different things. I know that an iPhone or Blackberry would take care of most of these for me. But I can't come around to that mentality. Writing-wise I'm a luddite. Plus if I moved to an electronic gadget, what would I do with all those fun and pretty journals I keep buying? And I can't stop buying those, can I? :-)

Bring Out Your Dead!

Growing up as the daughter of a pathologist has its benefits. I'm far more familiar with some of the medical terminology than I would have been otherwise. Most of us kids have a much stronger stomach than most of the people we know since dinner conversations often started around what Dad had cut up that day. Take your children to work day was a lot more fun (What's that Dad? Oh that's an appendix. Cool!!!). And one of the biggest benefits is that most of us kids have picked up my father's occasionally morbid sense of humor. I love dark humor and a good death joke.

So Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers was right up my alley. Mary Roach's brilliant book is both informative and entertaining. The book is about death and what can happen to our bodies after death. As Mary is quick to point out, this is not a book about dying. There is nothing funny or interesting about dying. This is about what happens to those bodies that get donated to science. Or what could happen. The most common usage for cadavers is of course the Gross Anatomy labs. I remember listening to my brother talk about his time spent with his body. Mary talks about the respect and dignity that is most often showed to these bodies. But it is not the only place that a cadaver can end up.

The book discusses how some cadavers are used for plastic surgery practice, how some can be used to study forensic science (most notably the University of Tennessee's Body Farm), and some are used as crash test dummies. Mary discusses a new group that are attempting to get people to compost their bodies after death. She talks about the standard embalming practices, cremation, and even a new practice that would liquefy bodies. She talks with respect about beating-heart donors, whose organs to on to save multiple lives at a time. This of course is alongside a chapter on the uses of human body parts as medicine in olden days. The book mixes current practices with the history of cadaver usage. She even discusses the areas where bodies could be used but most often are not, like munitions research. That chapter was very hard for me since most of those jobs sadly fall to living animals.

In fact it was interesting that by the time I finished this book, even knowing all the places that my body could end up, I was ready to donate my remains to science. I've long been an organ donor but this just showed me all the wonderful ways in which a body can be useful after death. The book was fascinating and oftentimes funny. The historical perspective gave me a glimpse at how cadavers have provided some of the greatest advances in medicine and safety. A wonderful read and I'm looking forward to picking up Mary's other books, Spook (about science and the afterlife) and Bonk (about the mixing of science and sex). A little less morbid but I'm sure just as interesting.

College Memories and Braceless Walking

This is a quick post tonight. I planned to write something earlier but the library was calling and after picking up over a dozen children's books, I no longer had any real desire for writing. Instead I sat on the couch and drank endless cups of coffee and read children's books. It was a good day.

I figured I had a nice quiet evening to work up some children's book posts for the other blog, when Jeff came down the stairs and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. He had his final in night class tonight and asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him. Like I'm ever going to turn down dinner out. Ha! The catch was that we would either have to drive separately or I would have to go down to Drake with him and sit down there for a half hour or so while he took his exam. I opted to go with. I haven't been down to Drake in years and wanted to show him a secret section of the library that I'd discovered (ah the privileges of a librarian).

So after a tasty fast food Chinese dinner we headed down to Drake. He headed to the exam and I found myself a quiet table up by the library to sit and write. At first it seemed like any other place I sit and write but after a while I began to remember things. It's been over ten years since I graduated from Drake. And the memories just came flooding back. It was odd to sit there on campus and think about how young the women and men (and I use those terms loosely) were who walked by. I could almost be their mother. And I thought about how things had changed for me since I was a young college student. I've lost days, weeks, years that I know are not coming back. I've lost a bit of my innocence from that time and I've definitely become a bit more cynical. But I've gained a lot too. I have a new perspective on life and love and work. I've grown to understand a bit more about how the world works and what my place within it is. I've gained experience and knowledge and a bit more calm. And all this came to me as I sat at a table at my alma mater watching the college kids walk past.

It was a good experience and although I felt old sitting there, I was still a bit disappointed when it was time to go. I miss college (I'm an academic at heart) but I think more than anything I miss the freedom and innocence I had back then.

On a completely different note I'm on my second day of brace-free walking and am so incredibly happy that I'm glowing. I spent all yesterday with bare feet enjoying the sensation of carpet under my toes. It's something that has been missing from my life for the last four months. I went to therapy this morning (yes I apparently wasn't finished) and am finally starting to feel normal again. I don't have a lot of pain and so far my walking doesn't seem much different. I've even been walking on grass quite a bit today. So far no issue. I don't think I'll miss this brace.

A Taste of Childhood

When I was young my mother would make the most wonderful sugar cookies from a children's cookbook that we owned. I remember these being a special treat and raved about them to everyone who I would talk about cookies with. So about a year or two ago, when I happened to find the cookbook in a second hand bookstore, I knew I had to buy it. And I knew that I had to make the cookies again. Just to see.

Well it took me a year or so to get around to it but today was the day. I stopped by the store this evening and picked up all the ingredients I needed. At home I was reminded of my mother as I started mixing the Crisco and the sugar together. Somehow that act makes me think of my mother baking. Then adding the rest of the ingredients. Rather than two dozen or so teaspoon sized cookies, I went with a baker dozen of tablespoon sized ones. After twenty minutes or so they came out and I waited impatiently for them to cool. Jeff didn't care for his terribly, but I thought they had the same melt in your mouth sweetness to them that I remember. What I didn't remember was that they were so crisp. After a couple more (just to make sure they were good) I realized why I didn't remember the crispiness. We never really let her bake them. We were always too busy eating the dough to get that far. Ah live and learn. It will make wonderful cookie dough.

The cookies were just a sweet end to a perfect day. It was just beautiful outside: warm, sunny, with a bit of a breeze. Jeff and I headed out to breakfast and then ran some errands around town. After that we headed home to clean up the porch and put up the screen on the front door. I'm so excited to be able to have the door open and have a breeze blow through. We wasted a day watching the birds, reading, and juggling out on the front porch. One odd thing was that we had a number of turkey vultures circling in the area. We normally see them near the creek but today they got really low near our complex, below the roof lines even. We think they were looking for our kitty who had wisely decided to go in a bit before. Sadly by the time I grabbed the camera to take some video they had moved on. A quiet day, a peaceful day, and I would dare say a perfect day.