morning brain...

I woke this morning to the sound of Paul Simon and thought "that's odd... I love this song".

I fought with my arm falling asleep while I was half asleep and finally a loud song by the Ting-Tings startled me again.  I realized that I was Supposed to be awake. All that music had been planted... by me!

I've engineered my early morning alarm so that about an hour before I should wake up a thunderstorm starts my playlist... not enough to wake me up but enough to push my dreams forward, then slowly the list cycles through quiet "please wake up" songs like Oliver Mtukudzi's 'Wake Up' and Paul Simon's 'Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes'.  Eventually the list turns loud with Prince and U2, hopefully by this point I'm feeling the need to get up, if that all fails the lists gets worse and worse until I am listening to Miley Cyrus and Band Aid.


I know it sounds complicated, but a normal alarm is so easy to just turn off (or throw across the room) while still in a dream state, rendering it totally ineffectual.  Every time it goes off I forget that there is a reason to be awake.

There is a fog that takes over my brain and it just doesn't burn off until about 10am.  My brain is the Pacific coast.

Yawn

There are times when the life of an artist is excessively boring. To the outside observer it looks like every day is non-stop craft time that must be endlessly exciting and fulfilling... There are moments where I stop and think "holy crap I love my work!" but then I am reminded of the 15 pairs of white polyester pants that need to be hemmed and the stinky dance bodices that I must clean again in hopes of reducing the years of body odor that have become an integral part of the arm pits. I stop and think about invoices to send and clients who continue to be late in paying... There is the continuous job hustle. There are long stretches of time where the creative work gets put on hold for the organization and alteration jobs.

I would never ever give this up for a desk job but mostly these days I lack things to blog about because seven days a week have been this;

get up,
eat breakfast,
go to work,
go to more work,
dinner,
gym?
work,
screw around on the computer,
read?
sleep.

Holiday work will eventually give way to more exciting things and a quick vacation in SoCal later on should be a good thing, but until then, forgive the quietude of the blog.

Happy Thanksgiving...

I believe in creative lattice work. Sure, I could follow the Joy of Cooking recipie, I could make a perfect Martha Stewart lattice top for my pie, but it has no soul. My pie is different every time. I add at least one new secret ingredient to the pie each time... these have no less than three secret ingredients and a few not so secret (a 1/4 cup of Laphroiag whiskey... yum!)

Some families have the exact same Thanksgiving year after year and they are happy with the perfectly honed orchestra of food. I salute them, but I prefer variety. I prefer exploration.

Either way, pie is amazing!

P.s. Family and friends trying to call me; I forgot to charge my phone... it will be on soonish. Love You!

Cold

I have been reduced to wearing socks indoors.  This practice distresses and confuses the dog.  He knows that I do not put things on my feet unless I am going out.  'Why oh why is the human putting things on her feet and not taking the dog out? '
Why indeed.

Recovery and Slacking...

I've spent most of this month, and this past week in particular working long hours without days off. I don't really notice until finally there is a point where productivity drops off or when I have a half day. This was my half day. I had about two hours of work to get done that didn't happen until this evening. This morning was spent catching up with The Daily Show in my pajamas... this afternoon was spent at the Berkeley Marina reading my Alastair Reynold's novel... I love this place.


Hopefully a half day will get me through another week... life in the arts is so glamorous.

Old Windows

Artifacts find a life of their own as time takes its toll,

layers of paint, wear from light, and wear from use

make that which was once mundane beautiful and unique.

New Blog...

I've added a new blog to the call list on the side... I when I was reading this last night I was laugh/crying because I had to laugh quietly at 1am but wasn't doing a very good job at it. Oh my sides, the pain, the hilarious pain... Click HERE to read "Hate spiral" and then explore the rest of this fantastic blog...

Berkeley Love

Some days my little city has some awesome people in it... This guy just decided to hang out here for an hour waving at everybody on the street. No fliers, no schpiel, just this sign.

Breaking up is hard to do.

(paraphrased somewhat)

IC: Oh I'm so sorry to hear you're leaving us. This month was our 8 year anniversary!
A: Uh-huh
IC: Can I ask Why you're leaving?
A: I just found someone who can give me more
IC: You mean for the same price?
A: less actually
IC: Well maybe we can rethink this, make it better
A: No I just don't think so. Every time I need you I just can't depend on you
IC: We just got together with someone else... maybe we can ask them to make you a deal
A: I've already asked for a new quote. Just cancel my damn auto-insurance policy and stop calling me.


Why is it auto insurance wants to make you feel like you're a jerk breaking up with them? I'm sorry; What have you done for me lately? Nothing! You take my money and when I need help I can't afford it. Buh-Bye!

--Meh!

More evidence of my Mom's awesomeness

I confess, I keep every letter I ever receive. I've kept notes passed to me in high school. I've kept misspelled Valentines from 2nd grade... so sue me. I also keep other random papers if I really like them, like this;

In college I got very sick and my mom flew out to take care of me, while recuperating we played hangman... only that stick figure guy is just too predictable... these are the more creative ways of killing stick figures with words.

I think this explains a good deal about me. Thanks for indulging me Mom.

Random internet stumble...

Traffic was slow this Sunday evening. Between the Folsom street fair, a Giants game and the usual Sunday tourism it took a long slow crawl to get to the bay bridge... but I tell you it is impossible to get road rage when the road looks like this;



I love San Francisco.