After the kids are no longer toddlers, seems to me that a lot of people credit a kids' success to their inherent greatness (natural parental pride) or due to their father or teacher's influence (arrogant credit) and the mom is dishes and carpet cleaning material. If the kid is troubled, then perhaps the mother is visible again. Exception here: Thomas Edison. Homeschooled genius boy whose teacher said he was "unteachable". Probably true if the teacher was like any of the typical ones in schools around here. Thomas Edison's mom yanked him out of the claws of an arrogant mediocre teacher and allowed her kid to become as great as he could be by teaching him at home. Homeschoolers like me love Thomas Edison's educational journey, as it is affirming to us that we aren't completely insane and overprotective. Anyway...
I thought of this just now because I was off reading a bio of Andy Goldsworthy who is a famous guy now, close in age to me and his work came to mind as I was mulling over John Pfahl's work. So many visions through the eyes of men. Anyway, I got on to that linked page there on Wikipedia and to say I felt like I had been pants'd and peeved at the entry there on that guy would be an understatement. It reads that he is "The son of F. Allin Goldsworthy (1929–2001), former professor of applied mathematics at the University of Leeds." Absent is the fact that F. Allin Goldsworthy has miraculously mastered the ability to bear children, kind of like one of those all-in-one printer/scanner/photocopier machines. Wow. Not only is he a mathematician with prestige and clout, he made a baby sans the assistance of a woman. Miraculous.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Just thinking.
Eons ago, when I was studying at the school of Art & Architecture in Chicago, I was lucky enough to attend a brown-bag seminar given by photographer John Pfahl. His work came to mind the other day when I'd been thinking about photography again and I was remembering an exercise we did in Photography in college doing paired pictures. John Pfahl had just finished his series called "altered landscapes." I loved it and what a privilege to find it online. See, just now I went to his site and found he's been busy all these years and still has plenty to offer a sideways mind like mine. I particularly like his series, "extreme horticulture" (oh what a heavy hand us humans can attempt to have!) and "missile/glyphs". "Power Places" is really good, too. Back when I did 35mm work, it was a two-pronged artistry. Still is, but different. There is the shooting, then there was the dark room dedication and a lot of sacrifice of time, paper and film, not to mention money to get things right and really work in a print. I loved it, staying in the darkroom until the wee hours, then riding the El back to Evanston, although those wee hours were a bit risky. I tried to mask my gait and look like a guy in the dark. I dunno. Just been thinking about pictures lately. Kind of refreshing not to have flashy things to say, huh. I think so.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
A night alone
Okay so it's been a bit of a tight week. What can I say. I'm a middle aged woman feeling the effects of her biology and circumstances. Wisely, my husband removed himself and my children for the weekend from our house, per my request. Good move. I find I need alone time in my own space to think and organize and get a few things done, but when there is constant companionship, it gets a bit... well... interpersonally claustrophobic.
I took advantage of the time alone to write up a juicy list of all I hoped to get done and I'm proud to say I got through most of the list. I finished my socks! See?
They aren't perfect, but they're DONE. And naturally, I wasted no time casting on another pair:
These will eventually become my version of the "Spring Forward" sock from Knitty. I MAY even dig around for my Addi Turbo sizes 8 and 9 and begin swatching for Martha, although I'm not sure if I'll get to it. There always seems to be more to do than I have energy for. I did get a ratty old desk Noah used to use out of here. Got it all cleaned up, carried it out to my car and everything, ready to donate to Goodwill but even they wouldn't take it. Now I have this beast in my car and I have to go to the dump and pay their fee. Dang that's a skein of yarn. Maybe I'll wait until my husband isn't home, a weekday when nobody is around & smash the thing up & stuff it into the trash bin, bit by bit, as though I'm hiding some kind of crime evidence.
I finally made it to the gym & found a female employee who would help me. I must say that Corey appeared to have his head in a very dark place. When I arrived he looked at me, stared off and behaved like some kind of whitey boy gang member wanna be, too cool to acknowledge his mama in the grocery store, me being that mama in this case. I told the young woman that the professionalism of the place really stunk especially since I just plunked down some dough and it promptly sat in their bank account with no accountability to me and previous to then nobody even had the decency to offer to show me around the place. The good part of it though is that everybody who can afford the nicer gym nearby that has a pool, which is also farther away from here, is already going there and they can crowd it all up and be proud of their status of getting to go there, congratulate each other on whatever it is they want to brag about. I will have a nice slate-tiled locker room with tons of room to myself for the most part. I can't imagine it's always that empty of females, but I have a hunch the numbers are pretty low, what with Corey at the helm. But there were 3 really overweight guys in there trying to work off their load and I really respect them for being there. It made me happy that the place wasn't filled with buff roosters everywhere, although maybe the lack of such was the cause of Corey's state of mind, I dunno.
I've been thinking a lot about what has been making me feel so miserable about my life and I have a little list going now, one of which is that I am fundamentally a creative person (not saying it's "good" to anyone, just that a drive to do it is inherent) and I haven't had much in the way of opportunity to exercise that for most of the past year. I stepped into a little local gallery a few days ago and it was wonderful to discuss a little art with the owner. I'm at a place too where my understanding of what the visual expression (in this instance) is about is not necessarily good or bad, just an expression and it can be valid however deep or shallow it may seem. I'm getting to love the non-verbal again and frankly, this past year of working for the lab in many ways in areas of office type work has been so dry it's actually help accentuate the contrast enough for me to see what's wrong. So........ Now I must put together a plan for a remedy. I must or my entire family will pay with misery, and that's no way to live if you don't have to. I also have too many needy creatures around and in response to that realization, I called my brother-in-law and begged him to take my cat Roscoe:
He's the one who was hit by a car a year and a half ago, the one who dragged himself back home soaking wet after 3 days and who I had to give subcutaneous fluids to to help him survive and mixed up food-soup for him FOR A MONTH while he healed. His pelvis was broken in 3 places and he's still quite gimpy, but he's become such a bucket of need, wiping himself all over my legs because he wants his food fluffed up or some such thing, standing on the roof over my window and yelling into my room as I work, that sort of thing. And it's not like I don't give him attention. But Zeke, Zeke needs a cat. He has no woman, has no kids around, doesn't work, lives in a trailer with no responsibilities except his pet goat, and he does like to dote over a cat. In my desperation, I called, begged and he accepted. They've bonded now, so I'm told, and it's been 24 hours. There is hope. Now I only have THREE cats, two Saint Bernards, two boys and five chickens and a husband.
I took advantage of the time alone to write up a juicy list of all I hoped to get done and I'm proud to say I got through most of the list. I finished my socks! See?
They aren't perfect, but they're DONE. And naturally, I wasted no time casting on another pair:
These will eventually become my version of the "Spring Forward" sock from Knitty. I MAY even dig around for my Addi Turbo sizes 8 and 9 and begin swatching for Martha, although I'm not sure if I'll get to it. There always seems to be more to do than I have energy for. I did get a ratty old desk Noah used to use out of here. Got it all cleaned up, carried it out to my car and everything, ready to donate to Goodwill but even they wouldn't take it. Now I have this beast in my car and I have to go to the dump and pay their fee. Dang that's a skein of yarn. Maybe I'll wait until my husband isn't home, a weekday when nobody is around & smash the thing up & stuff it into the trash bin, bit by bit, as though I'm hiding some kind of crime evidence.
I finally made it to the gym & found a female employee who would help me. I must say that Corey appeared to have his head in a very dark place. When I arrived he looked at me, stared off and behaved like some kind of whitey boy gang member wanna be, too cool to acknowledge his mama in the grocery store, me being that mama in this case. I told the young woman that the professionalism of the place really stunk especially since I just plunked down some dough and it promptly sat in their bank account with no accountability to me and previous to then nobody even had the decency to offer to show me around the place. The good part of it though is that everybody who can afford the nicer gym nearby that has a pool, which is also farther away from here, is already going there and they can crowd it all up and be proud of their status of getting to go there, congratulate each other on whatever it is they want to brag about. I will have a nice slate-tiled locker room with tons of room to myself for the most part. I can't imagine it's always that empty of females, but I have a hunch the numbers are pretty low, what with Corey at the helm. But there were 3 really overweight guys in there trying to work off their load and I really respect them for being there. It made me happy that the place wasn't filled with buff roosters everywhere, although maybe the lack of such was the cause of Corey's state of mind, I dunno.
I've been thinking a lot about what has been making me feel so miserable about my life and I have a little list going now, one of which is that I am fundamentally a creative person (not saying it's "good" to anyone, just that a drive to do it is inherent) and I haven't had much in the way of opportunity to exercise that for most of the past year. I stepped into a little local gallery a few days ago and it was wonderful to discuss a little art with the owner. I'm at a place too where my understanding of what the visual expression (in this instance) is about is not necessarily good or bad, just an expression and it can be valid however deep or shallow it may seem. I'm getting to love the non-verbal again and frankly, this past year of working for the lab in many ways in areas of office type work has been so dry it's actually help accentuate the contrast enough for me to see what's wrong. So........ Now I must put together a plan for a remedy. I must or my entire family will pay with misery, and that's no way to live if you don't have to. I also have too many needy creatures around and in response to that realization, I called my brother-in-law and begged him to take my cat Roscoe:
He's the one who was hit by a car a year and a half ago, the one who dragged himself back home soaking wet after 3 days and who I had to give subcutaneous fluids to to help him survive and mixed up food-soup for him FOR A MONTH while he healed. His pelvis was broken in 3 places and he's still quite gimpy, but he's become such a bucket of need, wiping himself all over my legs because he wants his food fluffed up or some such thing, standing on the roof over my window and yelling into my room as I work, that sort of thing. And it's not like I don't give him attention. But Zeke, Zeke needs a cat. He has no woman, has no kids around, doesn't work, lives in a trailer with no responsibilities except his pet goat, and he does like to dote over a cat. In my desperation, I called, begged and he accepted. They've bonded now, so I'm told, and it's been 24 hours. There is hope. Now I only have THREE cats, two Saint Bernards, two boys and five chickens and a husband.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
These are my confessions...
That Weird Al Yancovic song is really going around in my head.
a) I've been bitter and angry.
b) I'm PMS'ing in a big way.
c) Instead of working like a dog I'm working like a cat - pouncing and then lounging around in the grass (okay knitting).
d) Corey my "personal trainer" (yeah right) called an hour and a half before our appointed first meeting and rescheduled to Friday.
e) I bought another rug. That makes two rug purchases in two weeks. I did get a deal though. The first one is a really nice wool rug on sale at Crate & Barrel. I'm supposed to pick it up tonight. The second I spotted on Craigslist. It's impeccable and a nice 6x9 Karastan traditional. Now I have hope for the room I've designated "The Library" to come to fruition. Unfortunately the room still stinks from when my dad was living in there. Where that's coming from, I don't know. Both the carpet and mattress have been taken to the dump. My friend Judy buys couches. Used to buy pans. I buy rugs now. Rugs and yarn.
f) My yard is a major pit.
g) I haven't even started my Martha sweater. Oh but I want to.
h) I can't stand it that the Marina sweater isn't done.
i) My house is in complete shambles.
I've repainted two rooms and am trading rooms with one of my sons, so my youngest and I will share a room. Noah gets a blue room with electric green accents.
I'm so grateful to get the larger room. Noah had it when the boys shared a room, but then my younger son moved to the living room with me, took over the couch and I've been sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Oy it will be so nice to not have to move that every day or pay with a Saint Bernard lying all over it or guests staring at my bed or somebody leaving their dinner plate where my pillow would be. Not a great situation. The bigger room can also accommodate my work stuff. That other room is so small, I can't believe I had all my stuff (except my bed) crammed in there. No wonder it was a hopeless mess. Of course that which is defined as "my stuff" includes all the boys' artwork, family paper work, half my dad's care correspondence, all mending and everything that my husband would normally have out in the garage on his workbench. You know, like hobby things including MY YARN STASH and a boat load of books, all my woodblock printing supplies, also my computer and work surface for my job. Meanwhile, I am leaving town for the day to haul my older son up to his programming class in the Portland metro area and to stop by the lab I work for. I sure wish there were 48 hours to each day.
On a happy note, when I'm waiting in the parking lot while my son takes his class for 3 hours this evening, I have hope to maybe get to the toe of my 2nd Child's First Sock. I'm on the heel now of the 2nd sock, so there's that:
If I get tired of that, I'll fire up my laptop and work on my web development skills. I hate being middle aged sometimes. Nailed with a lot of responsibilities, material demands and expectations of living in the 21st century which includes learning tons, more than a brain can accommodate. So I'll listen to a few podcasts to increase my Japanese skills during my hour drive up and back.
あくせんくとうする (in my clumsy American way, I'm trying to say that I am struggling with my mental challenges...)
a) I've been bitter and angry.
b) I'm PMS'ing in a big way.
c) Instead of working like a dog I'm working like a cat - pouncing and then lounging around in the grass (okay knitting).
d) Corey my "personal trainer" (yeah right) called an hour and a half before our appointed first meeting and rescheduled to Friday.
e) I bought another rug. That makes two rug purchases in two weeks. I did get a deal though. The first one is a really nice wool rug on sale at Crate & Barrel. I'm supposed to pick it up tonight. The second I spotted on Craigslist. It's impeccable and a nice 6x9 Karastan traditional. Now I have hope for the room I've designated "The Library" to come to fruition. Unfortunately the room still stinks from when my dad was living in there. Where that's coming from, I don't know. Both the carpet and mattress have been taken to the dump. My friend Judy buys couches. Used to buy pans. I buy rugs now. Rugs and yarn.
f) My yard is a major pit.
g) I haven't even started my Martha sweater. Oh but I want to.
h) I can't stand it that the Marina sweater isn't done.
i) My house is in complete shambles.
I've repainted two rooms and am trading rooms with one of my sons, so my youngest and I will share a room. Noah gets a blue room with electric green accents.
I'm so grateful to get the larger room. Noah had it when the boys shared a room, but then my younger son moved to the living room with me, took over the couch and I've been sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Oy it will be so nice to not have to move that every day or pay with a Saint Bernard lying all over it or guests staring at my bed or somebody leaving their dinner plate where my pillow would be. Not a great situation. The bigger room can also accommodate my work stuff. That other room is so small, I can't believe I had all my stuff (except my bed) crammed in there. No wonder it was a hopeless mess. Of course that which is defined as "my stuff" includes all the boys' artwork, family paper work, half my dad's care correspondence, all mending and everything that my husband would normally have out in the garage on his workbench. You know, like hobby things including MY YARN STASH and a boat load of books, all my woodblock printing supplies, also my computer and work surface for my job. Meanwhile, I am leaving town for the day to haul my older son up to his programming class in the Portland metro area and to stop by the lab I work for. I sure wish there were 48 hours to each day.
On a happy note, when I'm waiting in the parking lot while my son takes his class for 3 hours this evening, I have hope to maybe get to the toe of my 2nd Child's First Sock. I'm on the heel now of the 2nd sock, so there's that:
If I get tired of that, I'll fire up my laptop and work on my web development skills. I hate being middle aged sometimes. Nailed with a lot of responsibilities, material demands and expectations of living in the 21st century which includes learning tons, more than a brain can accommodate. So I'll listen to a few podcasts to increase my Japanese skills during my hour drive up and back.
あくせんくとうする (in my clumsy American way, I'm trying to say that I am struggling with my mental challenges...)
Friday, July 11, 2008
Garden eye candy.
Also, the boys had some fun with fireworks. I used to love fireworks but these days I'm too old, afraid and sensitive to enjoy much of it. I do like these though:
Saturday, July 5, 2008
She doesn't like orange.
Isn't that a great happy party-like color? I mean how could a person not feel like an energized chunk of goodness and happiness when they see that skein? Okay maybe my niece will not. I bought two skeins of this lovely yarn from Knit/Purl fully thinking that she would love it but four inches into the leg and I find out her LEAST FAVORITE color on the planet is orange. Okay okay. I can take it. The redeeming thing here is that I like orange and peach and burgundy and my gauge always seems to be big. In other words, this sock is going to fit me and would probably have been too big for my 10-year-old niece anyway. I even reduced the pattern by 8 stitches around, thinking it would accommodate her petite self. Oy I am a loose knitter.
On a different note, we drove down to my FIL's yesterday. I snapped a few pictures for fun and stuck my head in my knit sticks. Lots of male energy and endless chatter on the part of them all. I finally made my BIL look at my newest book acquisition, Knitting Vintage Socks. He said the mouse problem they're having would make any hand-knit woolen a pretty vulnerable item. He's wanting to adopt a cat. I told him I have four and he could take his pick...
Here are a few photos from the trip:
Grandpa Don's truck bed:
Uncle Zeke's cabin:
Some daisies on the roadside I spotted when I was driving home:
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Whew!
I misplaced my camera and it was missing for several days. Today my alarm regarding this problem reached a fevered pitch. Combined with a LOT of driving and traffic congestion and time issues, I was a bit stressed out BUT... the good news of the recovery of my camera came rushing into my psyche as I discovered the smooth black bag wedged between the wall and my hall seat. Nice and cool, safe as a cuke in the fridge. No freaky person stepped into my house and stole it. Nobody opened the back of my car and took it unbeknownst to me because somehow I might have forgotten it and left it in my car and Dave must have not locked it on some outing.
I did some knitting today. Made it up to Knit/Purl in Portland twice now and purchased some really nice Koigu yarn color #602 specifically for my precious niece who just turned 10. I KNOW I promised myself not to pick up any new projects but when things are the craziest, I pick up new projects. It soothes me. So sue me.
Now that my camera is found, I'm going to start snapping some pictures. It's been a long time since I've felt compelled to photograph much of anything other than documenting oddball things around the house but I'm feeling inspired in the texture department again. I do love texture.
I did some knitting today. Made it up to Knit/Purl in Portland twice now and purchased some really nice Koigu yarn color #602 specifically for my precious niece who just turned 10. I KNOW I promised myself not to pick up any new projects but when things are the craziest, I pick up new projects. It soothes me. So sue me.
Now that my camera is found, I'm going to start snapping some pictures. It's been a long time since I've felt compelled to photograph much of anything other than documenting oddball things around the house but I'm feeling inspired in the texture department again. I do love texture.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
