hidden treasure

Almost two years ago when I arrived for my first day on the job no one knew what to do with me.  The boss had not yet arrived.  I sat at my brand new desk (well, very used desk, but new to me).  The only things on it were a computer, a phone, some stamps I didn’t recognize, a legal pad and a pen.  So, what did I do at my fresh-from-college-with-an-English-degree data entry job?  I noticed some office supplies in a mug across the room and decided to write a little something about them.  

 

“The bright orange scissor lolled lazily and leaned against the lemon loving highlighter.  The highlighter laughed to a snort and chided the scissor for his lack of focus.

‘Look here, just because my work load is chopped in half, doesn’t mean my purpose isn’t as obvious as yours,” said the scissor.

‘Shush,’ spoke up the pencil, ‘you two are permenantly talking shop and complaining.’

‘You know what number two?’ sneered the highlighter, ‘if you can spell this one out…’

Scissor cut him off, and Highlighter was drained of his illuminating comment.

Pencil smiled to himself, convinced he had erased the situation.”

 

Not super well written, but it was certainly amusing to me when I wrote it and today when I found it hidden in my desk files.

thriller

In my head – I know the Thriller dance and look totally badass, and not at all dorky, doing it.

In reality – I know it involves my hands coming up near my face like claws.  That’s it.

I  wish I knew the Thriller dance for real.

My shopping list yesterday:

“cereal, yogurt, bear I mean beer”

yeah, it was one of those days.

time and art

I’ve been inundated of late with catchup work.  That’s what happens when you go out of town for a week and miss some intense classes.  Played some catch up and I’m back on track now.  However, after spending hours upon hours slicing up colored paper and mounting it with paper cement, I wonder if it’s supposed to be so time consuming.  Is it just me?

Granted, I’ve never studied art before and I work full time, but I feel like all my free time is filled with art projects.  I don’t remember homework ever being like this before.  It’s fun, but sometimes I’d like to have a couple hours to read a book or watch a movie without accepting such a decision will cut into my precious sleep later.

Despite this complaint, I think I’ve produced some surprisingly awesome projects.   I just wonder sometimes if my classmates go home after class and whip out great projects in addition to taking on twice as many courses.

harmony

Quick music praise.

Jason Mraz’s song “Beatiful Mess” with Raining Jane (I think it’s on a special disc, but whatever) is gorgeous.   The melody is lovely, and when it’s joined by a cello in the second chorus I get goosebumps.  The harmony vocals from Raining Jane that start somewhere in the middle are haunting in a wonderful way.  That boy has a pretty good range too, some men hit high notes and I cringe, but his are nice.

new music

The other day I bought some new music and rediscovered some good stuff on my computer.  I now have a mostly new playlist consisting of Gomez, Dispatch, and Kings of Leon among others.  One of my new favorites is “Wake Up” by The Arcade Fire which I heard on the Where the Wild Things Are trailer.  It’s amazing, if you haven’t heard this song you need to.

art supplies

Yesterday I was faced with the daunting task of buying art supplies for my classes this quarter.  This means that I walked into my neighborhood art store with a very long list and only a slight clue of what I was looking for.  I wasn’t looking forward to the errand which also had the added perk of me spending a large am0unt of money.

Then I had an epiphony.  I love office supply shopping (seriously, I have to be carefully watched in Staples), and art supplies are way cooler.  I reminded myself that I had an excuse to wander around looking at everything, and that my purchases were not only justified but neccesary.  It was a blast, and Ithey were having a buy one get one free sale.  Sweet.  Though, despite the browsing I did have to pretty much read off half my list to a woman whom I followed around as she piled things in my basket.  I also had to wrestle a GIANT piece of black mounting board into my car and then into my apartment.  

Now I just have to wait and see what my intructors intend for me to do with all this stuff.

le Comte de Monte Cristo

If you ever have any intention of reading the book The Count of Monte Cristo (which I highly recommend) or seeing the movie (which I don’t recommend at all) you probably shouldn’t read this.  

I just finished the book a couple of days ago.  Truly amazing story.  1200 pages, but never a dull moment.  There’s betrayal, intrigue and a million characters to follow.  When it was originally published, The Count of Monte Cristo was serialized, and I could definitely see readers craving each installment.  It’s kind of like how some people follow soap operas today, except a million times more intelligent and way less smutty.

I finished the book and was fortunate enough to have never seen any movie adaptation.  Silly me decided to watch the newer one with Guy Pearce in it.  I was just curious to see how they tackled it. Dumb idea.  

I know that in adapting a 1200 page piece of literature to a two hour film there are going to be changes.   Side stories are going to disappear.  Some events are just going to have to take less time.  Less characters are going to be involved.  I get it.  It’s not like I had high expectations. 

Apart from the opening few acts and a few character names (which weren’t all the same anyway), the movie was a completely different story.  Okay, so, the guy gets screwed over by three guys who have various motives, he’s named a traitor and is thrown in prison, he meets a priest who tells him where to find a hidden fortune, priest teaches him everything under the sun, priest dies, guy escapes…after that it just went steadily downhill.  For a while I could see a shadow of Dumas’ story, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was pretty much watching something completely off track.  It’s like they just gave up trying to stick to the story. I mean, seriously, Albert is really Edmond’s son!? That’s a pretty big plot twist to just throw in there.

However, I did like that movie Monte Cristo actually got a new start with his former fiancee instead of with his Greek slave/daughter-figure like book Monte Cristo did.

self-portrait

Today was a sunny day, the first one in a long while.  I ventured to the park, along with every other person in the vicinity, and despite the fact that residual dampness was creeping through my blanket I sat in the sun for over two hours.  It was glorious, and completely worth the sunburn that will emerge later.

In addition to the reading and the sitting, I brought my camera along in an attempt to document the new flowers and life emerging.  Most of the trees were still bare, however, and a lot of the ground was still chewed up and brown.  I did capture a couple of new blooms though.

During my quest for spring flora, I decided that today would be good day to start a photo project I’ve been mulling over.  This endeavor involves a self-portrait taken every day for a year.  I’m not looking for 364 shots of my face, though. I’m thinking that depending on the mood of each day I’d get a little something different.  If it’s a busy day, for instance, maybe I just get a blur. Perhaps a cup of tea is symbolic of a day full of relaxation.  Whatever strikes me as the days go by.  

Anyway, I thought I’d try to take a picture of myself outside in the sun.  Unfortunately, I’d decided to start my project after I’d already gone outside.  I didn’t have a tripod with me.  I had to improvise.  I propped the camera on a picnic table, set the self timer and sat on the bench hoping to capture an expression of enjoyment in the long-absent sun.  Instead the first image produced was my blurry boobs.  

It’s kind of fitting, I’m always complaining how they get in the way.  Self-portrait number one, check.

sunshine! whoa!

Here in the Northwest people have – for the most part – made their peace with the rain, it is an accepted part of life.  There are even those of us that welcome the rain and clouds with a smile.  When the sun comes out though, even the most avid rain lovers are drawn outside.  The pasty people of Portland converge on the parks with their dogs and frisbees eager to bask in the warm glow.

Now, I’ve been to places where this isn’t the case.  Places where they take the sun and it’s warmth for granted.  Places where, even after several days of wet and cold (during which they don’t stop complaining), they do not take some time to appreciate the reemergence of the sun.

This is why I think the sun likes visiting the Northwest.  We appreciate him.  It’s true though, by the end, we are fully ready to welcome the rain back.