Author: Shelly

Crankypantsing, Meta, Photography

Trying Harder to Suck Less

Shelly

My apologies for being lazy and letting multiple days go by without posting. I’ve been busy, though, you see. I finally managed to get all the text information from the old website moved to the new gallery. Wheee! And, I’ve deleted all the old files. Now the only things left are some miscellaneous photo directories, and the main index, gallery, blog, and writing page. Talk about a tedious pain in the behindermost. Of course, now that I’ve deleted everything, I’m sure to find that I’ve missed redirecting a whole bunch of image files, which will leave big, gaping holes wherever I’ve linked to them.

We’re suppose to go to a diversity workshop (more like a presentation, I’m betting, which I’m sure will involve the dreaded Power Point. Oh, how I loathe Power Point.). It came down from on-high that everyone is supposed to attend, which means it’ll be packed and hot and airless. I’m so not looking forward to it. Not to cast asparagus upon diversity awareness, mind you. I think the world could use a metric assload of it right now.

Speaking of work, there’s something immensely gratifying about pulling your hair out trying to assign subjects and a call number for a book that nearly defies categorization, then checking the shelf-list to find that you placed it in Just the Right Spot.

Have y’all seen this video?

Holy crap! I’m funny about my T-shirts. I like them folded into nice, small, rectangular parcels. It’s not that easy to get them uniform and tidy, though, so I’m going to have to give this trick a try.

And, while I’m sharing links, remember the rock star feet website? The one with photos of Nick Cave’s shoes? Well, brace yourselves, for Il Mustache lives and breathes. Lordy! I know I’ve said before that–Nocturama aside–Mr. Cave can do no wrong, but now I’m not so sure.

Okaythen!

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Here’s some more crepuscular ray action. This was taken on January 31, on Woodyard right after the Smith-Curry Pike intersection (for those playing along at home). The photo is pretty bad, but it illustrates another form crepuscular rays can take. I have a ~40 minute commute, and the entire ride home I kept being teased by gorgeous cloud-sun views. I was unable to get any good shots though. Either I was unable to find a good spot to pull over, or the clouds shifted and the picture-perfect moment was lost. Hmph.

Photography

Stop Grovelling!*

Shelly

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I took this photo last Wednesday. It’d been gross and cloudy, but the clouds started to break up right around sunset, producing some nice crepuscular ray action.

Also called Buddha’s Fingers, Sun Drawing Water, and Ropes of Maui, crepuscular rays occur when an object (building, cloud, tree, etc.) interrupts the sun’s light, casting shadows and creating rays. The same phenomenon can occur when something blocks a portion of a car’s headlights. If you’ve ever been in a forest and seen rays of light streaming through the trees, those, also, are crepuscular rays.

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*(Pardon me while I have a Monty Python moment. Crepuscular rays have that effect on me.)

Art, Bookarts, Journals, Photography

A New Book and a Happy Accident

Shelly

The ink and paper I ordered still haven’t been delivered (they should’ve been here on Friday), so I’m sort of stuck for journalling. I’ve got pens a-plenty, but I’m really preferring working with a dip pen. Hrmph. So, I worked on some backgrounds. The first one is just plain old stamping, using a carved eraser and a wine cork with cheap acrylic craft paint.\r\n\r\n

The second one was less involved, but I think more interesting. I started with diluted blue acrylic paint. After it dried, I sloshed on some super diluted gesso. Because I was working on a slanted surface, the gesso ran all over the place, including onto the carpet. Yikes! So I grabbed my roll of paper towels to blot the mess, and noticed that they left lovely basket-weave lines in the blotted gesso. I like the pattern, and it should provide guidelines for writing. I can’t write level to save my life, so I’m happy. Yay for serendipity!

Sweet

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I also bound another book this morning. It’s small and chunky and terribly cute: 3 x 3 3/4 inches and 48 pages (12 signatures of 4 pages each), Coptic bound with linen thread. The pages are Cartiera Magnani hot press watercolor paper, which is yummy.

Small Denim Book, spine

Small Denim Book, top

The covers are made from denim from an old pair of my jeans, cut twice as wide as the width of the pages and a little taller. I ran them through the wash cycle a couple of times so the edges would fray. I was careful to keep the original seams at the centers of the fabric pieces, so that when I folded them in half around the boards, the seams would be along the spine edges. I then glued them to the boards (actually, two pieces of watercolor paper, because I wanted flexible covers), weighted them, and let them dry overnight.

Art

Making your savior behavior look evil*

Shelly

I started watching the SotU address, but just couldn’t stomach it. Like a good horror movie, I think it’s best to watch our fearless leader speechify in the company of others, so I’m going to do so Friday. I’ve already had enough bad and bizarre dreams lately. There’s no reason to deliberately ask for trouble.

About those postcards Dawn mentioned in comments. I need to pick up some ink at Wal-mark**. I hate shopping there, but sometimes it’s necessary. Hopefully, they’ll have what I need. One word of caution (well, two, actually). First, there is a huge difference between how images look in print and on screen. The luminosity won’t be the same in the printed versions, so I’ll have to do some test printing to see if it’s even worth pursuing. They may end up looking like total crap. Second, I suck at getting things mailed out, so I won’t guarantee to get anything in the mail in a timely fashion. I’m just sayin’…

So, Dawn (or anyone else–here or abroad, as I don’t mind mailing overseas–who would like a postcard depicting rural Indiana), if I can make decent prints, which images are you interested in? I also might also be persuaded to do some postcards of artwork (same caveats apply).

Oh, and Denise, if you’re out there… That silly voice you do? The little voice in my head has adopted it, which is equally entertaining and disconcerting. Yesterday, in a staff meeting, it kept talking to me, and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. Make it stoooooop!!!

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* My current stack of car CDs includes a large sampling of questionable ’80s music (as opposed to the unquestionable kind, of which I have yet to see any evidence indicating the existence). My apologies if this has given anyone big hair and skinny tie flash backs. Just be thankful I wasn’t a Wham! fan, or you might really be sorry.

** The local patois is truly a marvelous thing. I think, culturally and dialectically, southern Indiana is not entirely unlike Appalachia. That sounds like a stretch, until you consider how close we are geographically to northern Kentucky.

Crankypantsing, News & Politics

And, About that Alito Guy

Shelly

It occurs to me that one might not be all that very surprised that Alito was confirmed. While lots of folks are a-froth about it (and I am, too, because it just plain sucks for women and for those who give half a damn about our country and our constitution), I’m not at all surprised that Democrats capitulated on this one. The problem isn’t so much a partisan one, as a lack of partisanship. Yes, we can point our fingers (remember, it’s the middle one that counts!) at Democrats, complaining that they don’t have backbones. That’s likely true. What is also true is that they are capital P Politicians first and foremost, and in that sense, they live cheek-by-jowl with their Republican brothers and sisters–cut from the same cloth, as it were.

Crankypantsing

The End is Nigh

Shelly

I have a thing about using up the dregs of stuff. Shampoo, conditioner, tissues, mayonnaise, paper, tooth paste, soy sauce, gas (well, no one wants to use up the very end of their gas, but if my tank gets below half full, I get nervous), and ink are all objects of my particular “cannot use it up” obsession. Don’t ask me why, because I have no explanation for it. It’s not like not finishing it–whatever it may be on any given occasion–off is gaining me anything, because it might as well be completely gone for all the good it does me.

Right now, it’s ink, in particular, that is giving me fits. The black cartridge for my Epson printer is nearly kaput, thanks to Pandora, who keeps stepping on the on switch whenever she walks over the top of it. Which she does about eighty times each day. Every time she turns it on, it goes through a self-cleaning cycle, which wastes ink. One of these days I’ll get around to moving and/or covering it, to keep the cat from walking on it. In the meantime, I have to go buy a new black cartridge.

I’m also almost out of India ink, as well. I’ve been using my dip pen a lot lately, and have managed to burn through most of a 2oz bottle of brown. Lord only knows where my bottle of black is, but it’s of no use to me, as I cannot locate it. Hrmph. So, I ordered a bottle of black, two of brown, and a bottle of cleaner, which I’m also nearly out of.

In ancient art news, wouldn’t you just hate to be the person who trips, falls, and destroys three–three!–Qing vases? That must engender the sort of shame one never, ever, lives down. I mean never. My question is, why on earth were the vases in such a vulnerable position? Protecting its objects from harm is a museum’s first priority, so displaying them in such a way that someone can trip and take out three of them at once seems a bit careless to me.

Art, Journals

Soul Mapping: Chapter 4 Finished

Shelly

Chapter 4 was much shorter and less involved than the previous chapters, so it went really quickly. I finished it this evening, along with the visual exercise. The chapter’s theme was re-creation, in the context of rebirth and synthesis. Most of the exercises dealt with exploring the things that feed the soul and recharge the body and mind.

Many of the exercises seemed to be geared more toward people who have trouble discovering what to do with their free time–something that has never been a problem for me! I don’t know the meaning of the word boredom. I can thank my mom for that. When we were kids, if we complained that we were bored–or even if we just looked at loose ends–she’d find us something to do. Something usually involved cleaning, so we learned at a young age to occupy and entertain ourselves. That sounds like such a simple thing, but I’ve been surprised at the number of adults I’ve known who’ve had no concept of how to make use of and enjoy their free time.

Soul Mapping: Chapter 4
Soul Map, Chapter 4
acrylic, anatomical illustration, dictionary page, ticket stubs, and magazine clippings

The symbolism of the elements in this piece is tenuous. The book suggested perusing a bunch of magazines for imagery related to our responses to the written exercises. I had a hell of a time finding anything useful, and what I did find, I really had to massage to turn it into what I wanted it to be. Because of that, most of the elements are doing double, or even triple, duty.

Now, on to Chapter 5!

Crankypantsing, Meta

Mutant Roommates

Shelly

In a mad fit of obsessive compulsiveness, I cleaned the microwave last night. This morning, when I went to heat up water for tea, I nearly dropped my mug. The whiteness of the clean microwave was blinding! So that’s what it looks like under all the gunk? Who knew?!

Today’s daytime teevee observation (really, I do have a job, only today is MLK Day, so I’m off work): I wish Delta Burke would get a hobby. She’s hawking some sort of medication delivery service. Apparently, she’s been “living with diabetes” and is really excited about having her syringes, etc. delivered to her door. And, who wouldn’t be? It’s just that I object to that phrase, “living with X.” It makes X sound like some sort of mutant roommate. “Hi, I’m Delta Burke, and this is my platonic life partner, Diabetes.”

I finally finished moving all my image files from Blogger to my domain. Boy, was that ever a pain in the behindermost! I would recommend to any Blogger users that, if you think it’s possible that you might ever, in your wildest dreams, want to skip town, have your images hosted at your own domain or by some disinterested third party (I unreservedly recommend Flickr). Otherwise, you will regret it.

I also added categories to all my posts. That was a time consuming pain in the arse, as well. One thing I learned is that I do in inordinate amount of crankypantsing. It’s by far the largest category, though that’s partly due to it being a bit of a catch-all.

That’s all for now. I think I may have a wee cocktail[1]. And, perhaps, do some arting.

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[1] If that’s not an obscene word, I’m the Pope.

Pets, Photography

A cap of lead across the sky

Shelly

I woke up this morning to the sound of some sort of unholy wind keening through the trees. And hail. Lots and lots of hail. Only, when I looked out my front door, I couldn’t see any hail. Hmmm. I thought maybe I was imagining it, but then, when I looked out one of the back windows, there was a layer of white covering the ground. It was hailing on one side of the house, but not the other. Very weird. It’s been gross and rainy and windy all day, so I haven’t wanted to do much of anything but curl up on the couch with a book.

The sun tried to make an appearance, bless his heart, but the clouds were just too heavy.

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Because it was such a horrid day, I didn’t think there would be much in the way of a sunset. It wasn’t as spectacular as it could’ve been, but I managed to catch one of my neighbor’s horses grazing on the crest of the hill, silhouetted against the golden sky.

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This is why I had to velcro my computer speakers to the top of my monitor. Some old cats think they should be allowed to sleep wherever they want, and who am I to argue? I love the way her little paw is folded under.

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