Wednesday, May 31, 2006
"I'll steal that banana from you."
Three screens and a dozen cryptic discussions ranging from fruit to flowers. Set to playoff commercials and punctuated by the odd yowl of disappointment.
Makes for some strange nighttime drawing and the powerful compulsion to sneak around with a pen.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
A: "You've been drinking a lot of water lately."
J: "I've been in the sun a lot lately."
A: "My little sihaya."
J: "Oh hells no. Did you just call me 'water fat'???"
A: "No, no! I called you 'desert flower'."
J: "...well, my Fremen isn't what it once was."
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Considering the systematic way the film industry seems to be munching through the sci-fi/fantasy classics (library cards out, list of Hugo winners in hand), they should get to L'Engle in no time. That's where the real fun begins.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
1. Can I say artist four times?
2. Something offloading trucks
3. Something with tacos
4. Something with a headset
Four movies I could watch over and over:
1. The Last Unicorn
2. Any X-Men
3. Sense and Sensibility
4. Superman (the original, fingers crossed for the upcoming)
Four places I have lived:
1. El Paso, Texas
2. Olympia, Washington
3. Stuttgardt, Germany
4. Fayetteville, North Carolina
Four tv shows I love to watch:
3. Gilmore Girls
4. repeats of Invader Zim
Four places I've been on vacation:
1. the Cascades ("oooh, Lake Chelan!")
2. White Sands
3. Oktoberfest in Munich
4. Vancouver, BC (Expo '86)
Four websites I visit daily:
2. Rackham sites
Four of my favorite foods:
1. mac n cheese
2. mashed potatoes
3. Grape Nuts
4. my ma's spaghetti and meatballs
Four places I would rather be right now:
1. in my mom's kitchen
2. on a run
3. sitting at the dining room table (get a move on, you)
4. at Mighty
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
The black trunk with silver CrystalCaste scrolling was too much for my itchy fingers last night, and while the boys were out I hazarded a peek. Between giggles and layers of exacto- cut foam my plan took form. There would be two armies. The painted figures (Paintees) would have the easychair high ground and the obvious advantage. The unpainted (Pewtees) would be camped on the carpet savannas--worn from walking, but silent and grim.
At the sound of silver trumpets there would be a wild surge downward. First a shriek and slide as tiny hooves caught the nap, then the clattering of miniature swords by the landing near the Japanese balls, now a fierce sortie by a company of dwarves, perhaps some surprise reinforcements from behind our collection of Oz. And the Paintees would fall with the day while victory was crowed by fleets of eagles, and bats, and impossibly small flying squirrels in breastplates....
All to be caught on film. Perhaps narrated.
But brother and box are gone, and our camera never was up to the task. Which is for the best--since what would have started as mockery would undoubtedly have turned into plain fun.
* or 'Figs' as we were solemnly informed
Monday, May 22, 2006
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
I can't say that I'm pleased with the first attempt. Neither could someone else, which made for a sullen evening. I can offer some excuses. Like my fingers were twitching the entire time--some sort of dark sympathy for the character. Or that art doesn't lend itself well to murder--but that's just ridiculous. Or that I didn't give the subject its due--which hits nearer the mark.
In fact, that last has me regretting a week spent sketching outside in the irresistable weather. My legs are burned, my feet are dirty, and my ideas are all bleached out. Nothing looks good in the full light of day anyway. Or, for that matter, illuminated onscreen. So, I'm going to search out denser methods, more robust colors--maybe dabble in layers of ink. And slip away for a while until I think I can stand the glare.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Nor did I mention my inherent distrust of The Clutch. That any gathering of three of more women becomes a disturbing example of hive mentality and that outsiders must either sue for entry or cross their fingers and pray they aren't found. Now, we live spare, innocuous lives, but detection is fairly certain, if long in coming. It's a matter of elimination. After evenings of deconstructing the neighborhood personalities--the stoned gardener accross the street, the bikini bacchanites next door--they will have to move to lighter fare. Eventually, there will come a day of No News. And on that day, they will turn their bloody beaks around and find something dreadfully intriguing about that quiet couple with their books and their laptops and their glasses of iced tea.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Nothing much. Just braying about my foot and the crappy new Gomez cd. Booh.
Also, yippee skippee to sarah for finding this.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
March winds and April showers bring May flowers.
They're all anthropomorphized, see?
Little March winds. Carrying pipes that they never bother to play properly. Blackhaired and surly and roving like wild things. Terrorizing the pets.
Blue-shawled April with her copper watering can. Listless and moody--pale but for the running eyeliner. Muddying the rugs and wringing her skirts onto the floor before she goes upstairs to sulk.
Biddable May. Fair and rosy. Always shocked by the mess. Probably armed with a paintbrush and a mop. Accountable to Summer for the state of things.
Monday, May 01, 2006
A combination of a lack of grace, the poorly paved Buffalo streets, and an insistence on passing older runners. I can't pretend I didn't deserve it. Though I did give the neighborhood a much needed lesson in profanity. I will also admit I looked like a mighty fool.