Shelly

Spring?

March 21, 2006October 13, 2015 Shelly

The solstice was yesterday. Forsythia is in bloom, my baby walnut trees have swellings on their branches, the peepers have been peeping, and birds have been returning. So, of course, it snowed last night. Welcome to spring in Indiana.

So, I thought I’d share some photos of crepuscular rays I took last week.

I’ve been working on Letters to Esther. I’ve got nearly everything from the old blog format moved to the new website. Now, I’m in the process of scanning the original letters and adding them to the transcriptions. It’s slow going, because many of the image files need a lot of tweaking to make them legible.

I’m not even bothering to scan the rough drafts of Esther’s replies to Richard, because they’re written on pages from her exercise book, which have seriously degraded. I don’t want to handle them too much, because the paper is brittle and brown. And, because she wrote in pencil, the text is faded. In order to make scans legible, I’d have to do some serious Photoshopping acrobatics. Maybe, at a later date, I’ll scan them, but for now, I’m leaving them be.

Once I get all the currently transcribed letters scanned and images added, I’ll start transcribing new letters. Right now, I’m about half-way finished with scanning the transcribed letters. Just to give an idea of scope, that’s taken me about 50 hours of solid work, not counting time it took to do the original transcriptions.

Tangent Alert!

I’m watching bad daytime court teevee (Judge Alex) while working on the computer. I haven’t been paying close attention, but the defendant–whose off-lead Dalmatian attacked and killed the plaintiff’s on-lead Dachshund puppy–seems to be arguing that she shouldn’t be responsible for the full amount of damages because the plaintiff’s dog isn’t a purebred “Datsun.” I nearly choked on my toast. Lady, if you’re gonna try to mount that sort of defense, you really ought to get the breed name correct. Claiming that the dead puppy didn’t “look” like a purebred “Datsun” does not make you look like any kind of authority on the breed. I’m just sayin’.

Now, I’m debating the merits of digging out my car so that I can drive down to the mailbox to pick up the mail. There ought to be Netflix waiting for me. It would be nice to have something to watch besides daytime teevee, and it would be a good idea to get the car cleaned off, so I’m trying to talk myself into it.

Letters to Esther

What is Letters to Esther?

March 18, 2006October 13, 2015 Shelly

Joyce asked in comments about the story behind Letters to Esther, so I thought I’d answer her here, in case others were wondering.

Several years ago, I found a large wooden crate jumbled full of letters at a flea market. The stall owner was selling them piecemeal. I started digging through the mess and noticed that they all seemed to be addressed to the same person. I wondered how many had already been sold; it seemed criminal to me that someone’s life was being divvied up and meted out in little parcels, so I offered the stall owner $20 for the whole lot. He accepted, and I lugged the crate out to the car and took it home with me. I had no idea at that point what I’d end up doing with the letters, if anything. I just knew that they were in need of a guardian.

I knew I wanted to read the letters, but beyond that, I didn’t have any plan for what to do with them. However, it quickly became clear to me that I needed to find out more about Esther. Obviously, original documents are the best place to start researching a person. The problem was that these were letters to Esther, not from her. Sure, there is a lot of information about Esther’s life contained within those letters, but her voice is missing. Or so it appeared to be. What I found was that she had saved rough drafts of many of her replies. Those drafts were written on the backs of homework assignments, in faded pencil on badly deteriorated pulpy paper, often on time stolen from her school day. I became even more certain that I should do something to preserve and share these letters. Surely someone who cared enough not just to save a lifetime of correspondence, but to also keep rough drafts of her replies, would approve.

I started transcribing the letters a few years ago. It’s a tedious but satisfying process. I had in mind putting them online, but at that point, I had no idea how I wanted to go about it. Last year, I decided to start uploading them to a blog, so that I could get a feel for whether or not people even wanted to read them. It wasn’t a perfect solution, and soon got bogged down for several reasons. I decided to hold off on uploading any more letters until I had the time and energy to create a website for them. So, that’s what I’m doing now.

About Esther herself, I’ve been able to find out quite a bit. She fell in love, I think, with a young man from her hometown of Geneva, Indiana. The letters between Esther and Richard began when she was still in high school and Richard in college. Esther later attended Indiana University, and continued to write to Richard for a couple more years. At some point, and for some reason I’ve been unable to determine, the relationship–and the letters to and from Richard–ended. It may be that those letters were destroyed by Esther herself, or by a family member after her death in the 1997, or maybe they were sold before I bought the crate of letters. I know that after she finished college, she taught grade school. She later married a man named Robert H. Cooper. Dr. Cooper was a lover of nature, a conservationist, and a professor of science at Ball State University (my alma mater). The Cooper Science Building was named after him. I’ve spent many hours in that building, so it was a very strange feeling to see that circle closed, and to know that Esther was part of my life long before I’d ever “met” her.

It’s funny that this subject should come up today. I just got off the phone with my mom. At one point, I mentioned the fact that when I was small, we would drive around in the country and look at old, abandoned houses. We’d park the car, then everyone would get out and go their separate ways, exploring the things that interested them. The grown-ups seemed more interested in the crumbling bones of the buildings, but I was always fascinated by the detritus left behind. Pieces of yellowed newspaper stuck under torn bits of linoleum, marbles or the arm from a doll that must have belonged to long-gone children, calendars left on damp and peeling walls, a spoon lying in a door-less cupboard; then as now, it was the small artifacts that commanded my attention.

Letters to Esther, Meta

Letters to Esther Update

March 17, 2006January 16, 2016 Shelly

I spent the better part of last night creating a header graphic and playing around with formats. I think I’ve finally got something that I’m reasonably happy with. I decided to go with hand coding, because I couldn’t find an automated way to get what I wanted. Yippee, more work. But, I think it’ll work out okay. For now, I’m dumping everything into a sub-directory of the mother site, but that may change at a later date. If it does, at that point, I can also re-visit the issue of content management systems that might (or might not) do what I want automagically.

Esther Munro

Anyway, if you want to take a look at a rough conceptual draft: Letters to Esther. There are only a few letters at this point, and Home is the only nav link in the header area that goes anywhere. I’m trying to make sure that the letters themselves are legible but not huge. At this point, the thumbnails are around 10k each and the full-size images are 30-40k for half sheets and 80k for full-sheets (many of the letters were written on a folded sheet of paper that opens like a book, with two small pages and an interior centerfold page).

I also scanned some photos that were included with the letters. One set is a mass-produced group of photos of the University of Chicago’s buildings, c.1920. I’ve uploaded them to a Flickr set. The others are of the Indiana University Cosmopolitan Club’s 1923 International Banquet. One of the photos shows Esther herself. I’ve created a Flickr group for those, as well.

Ladybusiness

But the next post such stories I will tell

March 16, 2006October 13, 2015 Shelly

I trust everyone made it through the Ides okay? No knives in the back? I apologize in advance for the lack of Deep Thoughts and for the to-ing and fro-ing. Some posts are just like that. Tomorrow’s might be better, but I wouldn’t want to bet on it. But, hey, 4 out of 6 paragraphs have to do with animals, so that’s some sort of theme, isn’t it?

I had a most pleasant surprise this morning when I got to my car. The lovely Ms. Lea had stopped by on her way home last night and installed a clip on my seatbelt to keep it from strangling, or, hopefully, decapitating me. I’m so short that even with the seatbelt adjusted down as far as it’ll go, it still lies across my neck. Not a good thing for either comfort or safety.

And, further proof that this will be a good day, I saw a gray fox. It was hard to tell because he was a little unkempt and the brightness of my headlights washed out his color, but his coat looked to be light greyish and his tail had a black tip. It was too small for a coyote, too large for a cat, and not shambly enough for a ‘possum. It was definitely a slinky little fox.

I also had a cute encounter with a mouse when I stopped for gas. I went in to buy a pop, and as I walked back to my car, I saw what I thought was a leaf scuttling along the ground between the front tires. When I got closer, I saw it was a little mouse. He ran into my rear wheel and poked his head out between the alloy spokes and stared and stared and stared at me with his shiny black eyes. I told him he ought to move along, because it would be a long and unpleasant ride to Bloomington. I hope he took my advice.

Via Boing Boing, Garfield is finally funny. Really, really funny. The best part is that you can play along at home. Just remove Garfield’s thought bubbles, et voila, instant improvement!

I’ve added Carol J. Adams’ The Pornography of Meat to my Amazon wish list. Dear lord, there is a lot of bizarre advertising out there, and the worst of it seems to be that which involves the pimping of meat. The reviews of this and Adams’ earlier book are a mixed bag, but I’m curious about what she has to say on the subject, and about where she falls on the animal welfare-animal rights spectrum. I don’t have a lot of patience–precisely zero, in fact–with PeTA and those who knowingly or ignorantly buy their flavor of Kool-Aid. I do think that there is a lot that can and should be done to ensure that animals are treated more humanely and respectfully in the US, but I think PeTA (remember, small e for ethical!) has gotten it spectacularly wrong.

Pets, Photography

Ides of March Photoblogging

March 15, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

Sunset

Miss Harriet Brown knows that real ladies cross their legs.

Art, Crankypantsing

Happy Ides of March!

March 15, 2006October 13, 2015 Shelly

Beware, this post contains crankypantsing.

First, certain people I work with speak far too often and far too loudly. I wish they would either shut the hell up or use their indoor voices. One of these days, I’m going to snap, and yell, “Shhh! This is a library!”

Second, I pulled a muscle in my neck and it’s killing me. I’m praying that little movement and much ibuprofen will be of help.

Instant Review: Creating Sketchbooks for Embroiderers and Textile Artists by Kay Greenlees

According to Amazon.com, it hasn’t been released yet. It came through my coworker’s cataloging queue, today, so I got a chance to check it out.

Eye candy galore
Chock-a-block with color plates
Hardback with sewn binding
Amazon.com has it listed for $15.72, but the US price listed on the cover is $24.95, which is still damned good value for money

The book is geared toward the use of sketchbooks for fiber artists, but I think there is plenty of information and inspiration for those who, like me, are fiber-challenged. It’s not really a journaling resource, as it focuses more on the relationship sketchbooks play in the creation of finished artworks. Not that journalers wouldn’t get their money’s worth out of it; I think they would. It’s just not a journaling-specific resource, so it deals less with personal exploration than it does with the process of creating visual concepts. Anyway, I’ve added it to my Amazon wish list and will be purchasing it when it comes out. I’ve definitely spent more money on lesser books.

Oh, hey! My neck/shoulder cramp is nearly gone. Hallelujah!

Art

What to Paint

March 14, 2006October 13, 2015 Shelly

Via What’s in Rebecca’s Pocket, some, um, interesting ideas for paintings from the New Yorker.

Stampede of Nudes: … What has frightened these nudes? Is it the lightning in the background? Or did one of the nudes just spook? You don’t know, and this creates tension.

The Repentant Cameron Diaz: Cameron Diaz, her tear-streaked face lit by a candle, gazes wistfully at a photograph of me.

Still-Life with Rabbit: A wooden table is chockablock with fruit, cheese, and a glass of wine. To one side is a dead rabbit, a dead pheasant, and a dead eel. And you’re thinking, Thanks for the fruit, but, man, take better care of your pets.

So, if you’re ever suffering from painter’s block, you obviously need look no further for inspiration.

Crankypantsing, Pets

Over It

March 14, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

Okay, that little taste of spring was quite nice, but I’ve suddenly reached my limit. You see, I found a wee baby tick last night. There is no creature on God’s green earth that is more loathsome than the tick. Ticks are repulsive, disgusting vectors of disease and they have no business bringing themselves within a country mile of me. I want a restraining order.

So, I broke out the Frontline and have place an order for a Preventic collar. Just the one. And, wow, did that ever feel weird. I’m used to stocking up by ordering 4-6 tick collars at a time. There’s no need to do that now, though, since I’m down to one nekkid dog. A tick collar will last Harriet a full three months, instead of the usual 30 days for the Chowy dog.

Crankypantsing

Linky Monday

March 13, 2006October 13, 2015 Shelly

First, I bring you these fun filled time wasters:

Cats in Sinks. Yes, that’s right, pictures of Cats! In! Sinks! Rory would approve, I think.
Stuff on My Cat. Have you ever felt the need to pile stuff on top of your cat? Well, you are not alone.
My Cat Hates You. Some cats are bad seeds. Other cats are really bad seeds.

Happy Monday! It was a pretty useless weekend, so I didn’t bother to bore y’all with the details. Some highlights, though: I went to see The Libertine on Saturday. Johnny Depp does not disappoint. And, who knew he’d look so good with ’80s heavy aluminum hair? Then, I spent most of yesterday on the couch, watching fil-ums: The Road to God Knows Where (Nick Cave, like Mr. Depp, rarely disappoints), House of 1000 Corpses (revolting), and The Craft (I finally got around to watching it; not bad. At least I now know why Charmed insists on ruining The Smith’s How Soon is Now.).

At one point yesterday, the cat and the dog–who were lazing on the couch with me–started to yawn at the same time that I did. Now, that’s when you know you’ve achieved ultimate uselessness. I’m blaming it on the weather. I always get sleepy when it rains for days on end.

There’s not much to report from the Department of Arting. I didn’t finish anything over the weekend, but I did some preliminary work. I coffee-stained three pairs of toddler’s tights and a baby’s dress, which means my hands smell like coffee. I’d bought them–the tights and dress, not the hands–ages ago for a series of paintings, but they were so starkly white that I didn’t end up using them. I also primed several largish sheets of paper, which means I have a layer of gesso perm-a-bonded to my coffee scented cuticles. Because, you know, I apparently can’t apply anything even vaguely paint-like without using my hands.

While watching movies, I went through a pile of magazines, cutting out junk to use for collage work. Which reminded me of a tip from Andy. You can erase the clay-coat printing from magazine pages. A regular old eraser will work (but is a bit tedious). I found that a foam sanding block or super fine grit sand paper works great, too. Here’s the fun part, though: you can place objects, like coins, keys, or buttons, under the magazine page, then erase/sand over them, leaving a reverse rubbing of the object. Pretty cool, eh? You can do the same thing with larger patterns. The planking on my deck is old and weathered, with a raised grain that would lend itself well to this sort of thing. Many old buildings have interesting wrought iron grille work that might make nice reverse rubbings, as well. I don’t recommend doing any sort of rubbings of grave markers, though, because no matter how gentle you are, it deteriorates the stone. Sad but true. The kindest thing to do with grave markers is to take photos instead of doing rubbings.

And now, the inevitable crankypantsing: While upgrading some of the software on my computer, I decided to give iTunes a try. Boy, was that ever a mistake! For some reason, it doesn’t work on my system. I don’t know why, and I really don’t care enough to figure it out. I tried uninstalling it, redownloading it, and reinstalling it, and that’s as much effort as I’m willing to invest in it. The problem is that the audio is garbled. I assume it’s a compatibility issue. I can play music just fine with other programs, so I know my sound card is not faulty. I think I’ll stick to my old copy of MusicMatch Jukebox, thankyouverymuch. It’s not perfect, but it works well enough.

Crankypantsing, Photography

Aftermath

March 11, 2006October 13, 2015 Shelly

I went for a walk this afternoon, to survey the state of the driveway, and also because it was a gorgeous day for a walk.

The main areas of damage are definitely the result of SBC laying cable down the center of the drive. They moved it a year or two ago, but the old cable is now completely exposed in several places, because the earth has washed away where the trench was cut. What a spectacularly stupid thing to do. There is no way to repair the damage, short of digging out the entire driveway and starting over from scratch, because the earth in that trench will always be softer than the earth around it. It’s the path of least resistance for flowing water, which means it gets washed out during heavy rain.

A rut that is a lake

Yes, those are goddamn CINDER BLOCKS IN ALL CAPS.

I also took some prettier photos.

A dead tree along the fence behind my house. I decreased the saturation, then increased the reds and yellows. I also fiddled with the contrast and darkness.

Beheaded trees along gas easement

Tree along fence behind my house

Machined piece of stone found in driveway.

My neighbor’s house, at the top of the hill. I took these photos from ground level at the bottom of her driveway. The photos turned out kind of creepy, I think.