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| She is not a-mused. |
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Living Room Muse
She is perched on top of a heap of books varying in topic from home decorating and art to autobiography and mythology. It is an appropriate resting place. I get the impression she likes it.
She doesn't like her neighbors, however - both of which reside atop the furniture to the right. Not her right (she doesn't have hands), your right. Mr. Television and his bride, Wii, are obnoxious, loud, often uncouth, and play their music late into the night. As a result, Muse is considering a move to a more peaceful neighborhood. Fortunately, she has casters.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Mr. Toast's Creative Tuesday 1.18.11
Here is this week's doodle. The theme was "scarf".
Check out all the Creative Tuesday fun first-hand at Hot Toast and Tea.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Holly House Diaries 1/11- 1/16/11
1/11/11
I am officially a home owner
.?.?.
I'm still not sure how I feel about it
...
My Gypsy itches.
1/12/11
Is it weird that I have numerous pieces of furniture with wheels on?
That my first thought before purchase is "Can I add casters?"
Like I am going to ride a coffee table to town?
Where is the furniture going to go?
I should have built a vardo.
1/13/11
Guy with a lisp came to measure for a fence
Even if the quote is outrageous, I will feel bad if I don't buy from him
Stupid speech impediment
1/15/11
Bought a medicine cabinet
Dad said he could install. No problem. Fifteen minutes.
He couldn't. It was. An hour.
Torn all to hell and hanging by a thread.
I wanted to scream.
I have to start over.
1/16/11
I love my little house. It isn't finished.
It may never be. That's okay.
I am a work-in-progress, too.
The bathtub is one of the best things about the house. It's as deep as a swimming pool (no diving!) and the edge is curved to cradle your back and neck like the palm of a hand. Filled with aqua-blue, endlessly hot and steaming, slightly earth-scented well water, it's the most relaxing place on the planet. One hour long soak in it is better than twenty trips to a therapist.
I am officially a home owner
.?.?.
I'm still not sure how I feel about it
...
My Gypsy itches.
1/12/11
Is it weird that I have numerous pieces of furniture with wheels on?
That my first thought before purchase is "Can I add casters?"
Like I am going to ride a coffee table to town?
Where is the furniture going to go?
I should have built a vardo.
1/13/11
Guy with a lisp came to measure for a fence
Even if the quote is outrageous, I will feel bad if I don't buy from him
Stupid speech impediment
1/15/11
Bought a medicine cabinet
Dad said he could install. No problem. Fifteen minutes.
He couldn't. It was. An hour.
Torn all to hell and hanging by a thread.
I wanted to scream.
I have to start over.
1/16/11
I love my little house. It isn't finished.
It may never be. That's okay.
I am a work-in-progress, too.
The bathtub is one of the best things about the house. It's as deep as a swimming pool (no diving!) and the edge is curved to cradle your back and neck like the palm of a hand. Filled with aqua-blue, endlessly hot and steaming, slightly earth-scented well water, it's the most relaxing place on the planet. One hour long soak in it is better than twenty trips to a therapist.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Book Blogger Hop 1/14
This looked like a fun way to wile away a few minutes...
Though some of the BookBabes selections have forced me to read outside of my typical literary comfort-zone, Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Mystery are my genres of choice. I like my books to have distinct good guys and bad guys and I like the good guys to win - whether they are swing a sword, a light saber, or a scalpel used for autopsies. Good vs. Evil, Knight vs. Dragon, Skywalker vs. Vader, or Detective vs. Serial Killer, I enjoy a book that involves a quest to end the Evil. There's comfort in knowing in the end the bad guy pays for his evil deeds, especially since in real life it doesn't always wrap up that way.
With the Fantasy and Sci-Fi -- and the occasional mystery -- you also get the additional benefit of traveling a foreign country and visiting distant (light years, in some cases) lands. I luurve me some exotic locales. Not to mention the exotic locals. Bring on the elves and aliens, dude.
Hosted at Crazy For Books
The question comes from Barb at Sugarbeats Books.
"Why do you read the genre you do? What draws you to it?"
Though some of the BookBabes selections have forced me to read outside of my typical literary comfort-zone, Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Mystery are my genres of choice. I like my books to have distinct good guys and bad guys and I like the good guys to win - whether they are swing a sword, a light saber, or a scalpel used for autopsies. Good vs. Evil, Knight vs. Dragon, Skywalker vs. Vader, or Detective vs. Serial Killer, I enjoy a book that involves a quest to end the Evil. There's comfort in knowing in the end the bad guy pays for his evil deeds, especially since in real life it doesn't always wrap up that way.
With the Fantasy and Sci-Fi -- and the occasional mystery -- you also get the additional benefit of traveling a foreign country and visiting distant (light years, in some cases) lands. I luurve me some exotic locales. Not to mention the exotic locals. Bring on the elves and aliens, dude.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The End is Near
In orientation on Tuesday, a new employee made a statement about how the world was going to end in 2012.
She was having a discussion with a fellow attendee during a break and I walked in to hear her say, "It doesn't matter because the world is going to end drowning in fire on Dec. 25th, 2012, anyway. So enjoy your last couple of year on earth, buddy."
At that point the discussion bled over and began to get rather heated amongst the rest of the newbies, who exhibited attitudes ranging from scoffs ("Puh-leeze. That Aztec calendar's ended, like, fifteen times already.") to a more meeting the challenge head-on approach ("Bring it. I've got my commando gear waiting in the foyer and ten years of canned goods and rations in my lead-lined basement.) I listened for a few moments wondering how much any of them actually believed what they were saying.
Finally, I broke in with a comment, "Around here there are three topic you should probably avoid chatting with your co-workers about: religion, politics, and college football team alliances." Then I said, "George Bush is the Devil. Now on that note, lets get back to the handbook..."
That pretty much brought the conversation to a screeching halt.
Later I was wondering how many people believe the end of the Aztec calendar in 2012 was literally going to mean the end of human existence. Probably about the same number who thought the stroke of midnight on Jan. 1, 2000, cell phones would implode, planes would fall out of the sky, and our planet would revert back to the technological Stone Age. Each group has their reasons for believing the way they do. Who am I to judge someone else's doomsday prophecy?
Not that I'm nihilistic, but, given the destructive capability at the fingertips of crazy people, the world as we know it could end any minute and most of us (adults) would probably deserve it. Why freak out about it ending two years from now? You're only going to get all worked up about a situation that you can't control anyway. Instead, do your best to make your corner of the world a bright spot in the darkness, help where you can, and attempt to make the world better for your having existed in it.
I don't know if the world is going to end in 2012. What I do know is that even the small positive things that we do can still change the world.
The important thing is to retain your sense of humor. That way when you are surfing the most recent round of postcards on PostSecret and you see that someone's secret is they hope for the zombie apocolypse so that they don't have to pay their bills you can still get a giggle.
She was having a discussion with a fellow attendee during a break and I walked in to hear her say, "It doesn't matter because the world is going to end drowning in fire on Dec. 25th, 2012, anyway. So enjoy your last couple of year on earth, buddy."
At that point the discussion bled over and began to get rather heated amongst the rest of the newbies, who exhibited attitudes ranging from scoffs ("Puh-leeze. That Aztec calendar's ended, like, fifteen times already.") to a more meeting the challenge head-on approach ("Bring it. I've got my commando gear waiting in the foyer and ten years of canned goods and rations in my lead-lined basement.) I listened for a few moments wondering how much any of them actually believed what they were saying.
Finally, I broke in with a comment, "Around here there are three topic you should probably avoid chatting with your co-workers about: religion, politics, and college football team alliances." Then I said, "George Bush is the Devil. Now on that note, lets get back to the handbook..."
That pretty much brought the conversation to a screeching halt.
Later I was wondering how many people believe the end of the Aztec calendar in 2012 was literally going to mean the end of human existence. Probably about the same number who thought the stroke of midnight on Jan. 1, 2000, cell phones would implode, planes would fall out of the sky, and our planet would revert back to the technological Stone Age. Each group has their reasons for believing the way they do. Who am I to judge someone else's doomsday prophecy?
Not that I'm nihilistic, but, given the destructive capability at the fingertips of crazy people, the world as we know it could end any minute and most of us (adults) would probably deserve it. Why freak out about it ending two years from now? You're only going to get all worked up about a situation that you can't control anyway. Instead, do your best to make your corner of the world a bright spot in the darkness, help where you can, and attempt to make the world better for your having existed in it.
I don't know if the world is going to end in 2012. What I do know is that even the small positive things that we do can still change the world.
The important thing is to retain your sense of humor. That way when you are surfing the most recent round of postcards on PostSecret and you see that someone's secret is they hope for the zombie apocolypse so that they don't have to pay their bills you can still get a giggle.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Time To Go Oooom
I got accepted to the Vipassana meditation retreat again this year. In the spring, I will be skipping off to the Dhamma Siri center for ten days of Noble Silence, meditation sessions from 4am-9pm, no sex, no TV, no phone, no books, all vegetarian meals, and sleeping on a tiny bed that feels like it has a piece of plywood for a mattress.
It's gonna be GREAT!
Okay... so it's not everyone's idea of a vacation, but I will tell you that it is life-altering in a way that no cruise to the Bahamas ever will be. Life-altering in a good way. Not in a purple-kool-aid-drinking, aliens-coming-down-to-take-us-to-heaven-so-get-your-navy-running-suit-on sort of way. Even though this will be my third year to attend, my father is still convinced that I am being brainwashed by a cult. The whole ten days I'm there, he has the black helicopters and extraction team on stand-by just in case he sees the bat signal. I'm only going to say this one more time, IT'S NOT A CULT.
Yeesh.
Besides, I wouldn't be part of any cult that would accept me as a member.
Not to mention I'm not exactly ideal cult material. There's too much dissident in my blood - which you think my father would understand by now, having been the target of much of my insubordinate behaviour over the years. I'd almost feel sorry for any cult who tried to actively recruit me. Talk about catching a tiger by the tail.
Vipassana meditation is an entirely non-sectarian technique, though most of the practitioners and teachers are Buddhist. At last year's session it was pretty evenly divided between men and women, about 100 people total, from all walks of life and religious affiliations. There are no mantras to chant, no visualizations of cloudless skies or sunlit meadows - nothing that would distract you from the inner workings. You definitely have a lot of opportunity to take a good hard look at the state of yourself when you don't have any distractions - plenty of time to clear out the inner sludge that's built up. I'm ready for a spring cleaning.
It's gonna be GREAT!
Okay... so it's not everyone's idea of a vacation, but I will tell you that it is life-altering in a way that no cruise to the Bahamas ever will be. Life-altering in a good way. Not in a purple-kool-aid-drinking, aliens-coming-down-to-take-us-to-heaven-so-get-your-navy-running-suit-on sort of way. Even though this will be my third year to attend, my father is still convinced that I am being brainwashed by a cult. The whole ten days I'm there, he has the black helicopters and extraction team on stand-by just in case he sees the bat signal. I'm only going to say this one more time, IT'S NOT A CULT.
Yeesh.
Besides, I wouldn't be part of any cult that would accept me as a member.
Not to mention I'm not exactly ideal cult material. There's too much dissident in my blood - which you think my father would understand by now, having been the target of much of my insubordinate behaviour over the years. I'd almost feel sorry for any cult who tried to actively recruit me. Talk about catching a tiger by the tail.
Vipassana meditation is an entirely non-sectarian technique, though most of the practitioners and teachers are Buddhist. At last year's session it was pretty evenly divided between men and women, about 100 people total, from all walks of life and religious affiliations. There are no mantras to chant, no visualizations of cloudless skies or sunlit meadows - nothing that would distract you from the inner workings. You definitely have a lot of opportunity to take a good hard look at the state of yourself when you don't have any distractions - plenty of time to clear out the inner sludge that's built up. I'm ready for a spring cleaning.
Friday, January 7, 2011
The New Year's Barely Started...
... and I'm already behind.
At the mo', most of my effort is going toward The Sketchbook Project - Status: Incomplete - Due: Postmarked Jan. 15th. I still have pages to glue, paper to insert, collage to complete, and mini portraits to include, not to mention that I wanted to scan it all in before I send it off. Yes, they are going to scan it on their end, but I want the option to be able to post my own PDFs or use my work later.
I also want to work on a mail art piece for Exploding Doughnut. I have a few ideas, but nothing down on paper yet.
And those are only No.1 and No.2 on a long, long list.
Unfortunately, all I want to do after work is go home, change into my sock monkey jimjams, and curl up with a book. I think it has something to do with coming to work in the dark and leaving work in the dark. The only sunshine I've seen the past four days has been through my narrow office window. I'm beginning to feel like a prisoner in the tower of London - only without all the fun of the torture and the rats and the watery gruel.
For about two weeks I've felt like a creative black hole - sparkling, light-filled, stars of ideas go in never to be seen again. Hopefully Carla Sonheim's class, Silly3, will help bust me out of my funk. The lessons might be the kick in the pants I need to get some momentum built up.
My office and desk at home is a wreck - probably a good reflection of my creative mind. It's piled to overflowing with crap. I've moved in to the new place (sorta), but have no storage space for anything yet. My creative space, the office/studio that I've always longed for, has become a receptacle for every displaced item I own. I don't have any more space to create than I did before.
This weekend I am mounting a major expedition to excavate some surface area on the desk. Or maybe I'll "HULK MAD!!" and pick it up by one leg and throw it across the room, effectively clearing it off in a shower of paper, pens, paints, brushes, books, and rage. That option has a strange appeal.
At the mo', most of my effort is going toward The Sketchbook Project - Status: Incomplete - Due: Postmarked Jan. 15th. I still have pages to glue, paper to insert, collage to complete, and mini portraits to include, not to mention that I wanted to scan it all in before I send it off. Yes, they are going to scan it on their end, but I want the option to be able to post my own PDFs or use my work later.
I also want to work on a mail art piece for Exploding Doughnut. I have a few ideas, but nothing down on paper yet.
And those are only No.1 and No.2 on a long, long list.
Unfortunately, all I want to do after work is go home, change into my sock monkey jimjams, and curl up with a book. I think it has something to do with coming to work in the dark and leaving work in the dark. The only sunshine I've seen the past four days has been through my narrow office window. I'm beginning to feel like a prisoner in the tower of London - only without all the fun of the torture and the rats and the watery gruel.
For about two weeks I've felt like a creative black hole - sparkling, light-filled, stars of ideas go in never to be seen again. Hopefully Carla Sonheim's class, Silly3, will help bust me out of my funk. The lessons might be the kick in the pants I need to get some momentum built up.
My office and desk at home is a wreck - probably a good reflection of my creative mind. It's piled to overflowing with crap. I've moved in to the new place (sorta), but have no storage space for anything yet. My creative space, the office/studio that I've always longed for, has become a receptacle for every displaced item I own. I don't have any more space to create than I did before.
This weekend I am mounting a major expedition to excavate some surface area on the desk. Or maybe I'll "HULK MAD!!" and pick it up by one leg and throw it across the room, effectively clearing it off in a shower of paper, pens, paints, brushes, books, and rage. That option has a strange appeal.
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