Drawing a Blank

The exhibit selectors came and chose the pieces they want to include in Re:fine in Wellington; I have a little bit of paperwork to do, but I'm finished with this project. And for the first time in about a year, I have no pressing deadlines. I feel a bit light-headed and stupid; I'm pacing the house, not thinking, not looking, just pacing. My voice is loud and hollow.

I know I have half a dozen To Do lists, and I've neglected so many thing around the house for this time, but I can't settle down to do anything.

I think I'll go make a cuppa. Have a great weekend, everybody.

Don't Remind Me of Professsional Wresling

I've been working really hard this morning staring at screens like this. A few minutes ago, I saw three tigers staring right back at me. In fact, it reminded me of this professional wrester named Tiger Mask, (my brother had a long and passionate mad pro wrestling fan phase), and now I can't stop laughing. I have to go do something else before I can continue. Darn, the design was just starting to look a little interesting; shall I weave this in black and yellow?

I shouldn't have dwelled on it; now i see another set of eyes that look like the tiki; and here's tiki on Wiki. OK, somebody shoot me.

Prevaricate?

Why is everybody using this word suddenly? I'm seeing it and hearing it everywhere. And it doesn't make the action any right just because you use a fancier word. Why can't they just say, "lie"?

Bartnapped

Yesterday morning, I was brushing my teeth when I had this funny sensation; at first I thought the brush came off of my electric tooth brush; wrong, it was a bridgework that had come off. So instead of spending a leisurely (that's tongue-in-cheek!) day designing my second warp, I had to go into town. Fair enough, at least it was painless. Then I found out a mini festival on architecture-related documentaries was about to close, so instead of going home immediately on the 1PM bus, I caught two terrific shorties.

One was a hilarious documentary on Philip Johnson and his "homes" on his New Canaan estate; the second was on New Zealander Bill Toomath adding a study (or more like a desk) based on Antonello de Messina's "St Jerome in his Study". I wished there were more relating to the painting and the renovation in the second one, but as one who wanted to be an architect, among many other things, until she found out she needed to be able to draw, it was exhilarating. And I really needed to clear my head of the images of this last warp, so it was time well-spent.

I've assumed Johnson's estate would have its own web site, but I haven't found it yet; if you do, can you please let me know?

As I walked out the cinema, I saw the above. Back to real life, eh?

Eclipsed

Hee hee, hah hah. This was taken with my tiny Panasonic DMC-FX01 Lumix, maximum zoom 28mm 3.6x. Once it was completely shadowed, my tiny camera couldn't cope; I tried 15 and 30 seconds on a tripod, but they still came out very blurred.

Don't bother enlarging; it's really nothing to write home about. But it was great fun standing in the southerly (that's cold down here) blast looking at the moon with my husband. And here's his effort.

To see the progressions, go see Keith's awesome time-lapse shot.

Happy Birthday, Dear Camera

One year and 16 days ago, Ben bought me this spiffy new camera, and since then, I go everywhere with it. It's always in my backpack, and if not, I carry my camera and cell phone in pockets of whichever outer garment, even though I don't always carry my keys or wallet if I'm with Ben. It's been one of the best toys I've ever had, and for the small size, it's produced some surprisingly satisfying results for me.

I know lots of people like high-end SLR cameras with swappable lenses and all the fancy options, but for me, I like the portability and the point-and-shoot-ability; it's become a recorder of my life; I can always record the places, the things and the people I see and I like the functionality of it.

I started out way back in the 70's with a school SLR and used to develop B/Ws in the school darkroom, which was under a stairway and friends used to jump up and down the stairs when they knew we were working underneath. The darkroom didn't have a window nor good ventilation.

The first thing I bought when I finally got a respectable job was Olympus OM-2 Spot Program, with a 50mm macro lens; back then my passion was macro shots of flowers because my mother has two very green thumbs. I added a pretty big zoom (can't remember what it was but I foolishly traded that in for an inferior zoom later) before I travelled to China in '86, and a 200mm before I went to Australia in '88. Ben bought me a very light 50mm lens, and I still have all those. It's a compact setup, and I remember checking the weight of everything before I bought each item, because I don't like heavy cameras.

So, I shall see what I can do with my tiny Lumix and this Lunar Eclipse thing that's happening just now; the only weakness of my Lumix is the zoom, but we'll see. Ben's rushing around with his tripod, the telephoto, the shutter extension thingie, all the gadgets.

About 20 Minutes Ago

I just found out that if I stick my arm all the way out of the window on the west side, the roof doesn't interfere with the view, even at the widest angle. Learn something new every day.

I finished fringing two pieces today, so I get to wash and press them tomorrow. And then another warp; I hope to work on two more pieces for the exhibit, though I'm not sure if I have enough time, and if I can't, it's not catastrophe any more.

Life's looking better now, though the house and the garden are looking horribler and horribler... Ha ha, gotta laugh...

Real Kiwi Life

Not that we're showing fake Kiwi life, but Daniel Jenkins, who apparently lives down in Christchurch or nearby, has many photos in one of his blogs showing what we consider to be quintessentially Kiwi; the man reparing his roof is my favorite.

He also got me thinking how life in Nelson, (and more so in the larger cities) has become far less gritty and home-made, but cleaner and more "retail" (in the sense that it's the same all over, and you can purchase a lot more goods and services) in the last decade, to a point even we feel nostalgic about this Kiwi life that we never lived.

Millicent Ford

Occasionally I need to go in to my Gmail junk mail folder to make sure they're all junk. For some reason, some of the Arts Marketing emails and occasionally some from friends end up there; strangely, always important emails. Otherwise, it's "Select All/Delete Forever".

Lately, however, I've come to enjoy the various names attached to junk mail; I'm not sure if those folks/accounts really exist, but compared to the early days of SPAM, they look legit. And it's a goldmine for possible names/characters for stories/plays.

Today's find: Milicent Ford. I see crotched doilies, tea cosies and silver, three-tiered cake/cookie stands, along with pale, slender hands.

What a Mess!!

This is my mess. I'd like to say it's uncharacteristic of me, but I don't think it is any more.

I used to be a neat freak and got physically sick if something was even left on my desk. Then 17.5 years ago I married Ben. Then, about six years ago, I told myself I could clean the house to my heart's content, or weave. It took me about a year of daring myself not to tidy up and clean every day, but the last three years or so, I've been able to walk away and engage in weaving-related activities.

I still can't stand it, but I can now walk away from it. But not when it gets this bad. I think today is a clean up day.

Feeling Gray

Ben's usually pretty good about sharing toys, but I hadn't seen this at the bottom of his Sketchbook until this morning. I have a hard time working with values in my weaving, so I've come to love the sight of these gray scale bars/charts. In fact, I'm accumulating a wee collection of paper and plastic versions of these.

Just Testing

Experimenting with Picasa, folks.

Would You Believe....

Of course you would.

I just spent a couple of precious morning hours trying to revamp the look of this blog by bringing in spring colors and sprucing it up... And I just couldn't make it look the way I'm feeling; "springy"!! So I reverted to template default. I even checked most of the available templates and still like this the best. Then, me being me, I just had to go and tamper with the colors again. And then I tried about 20 different colors for the text of this post alone. No go.

Sometimes it just doesn't work. Pathetic.

So True!

Reminds me of when I was 14 or 15. I used to carry a paperback version of Jean Webster's "Daddy Long Legs"; my friends were so impressed I was reading a book in English. Of course, I knew the story better than the back of my hand from having read the Japanese translation so many times. Snob!!

When I was 16 and went to US, though, this was the first book I read, outside the required school reading. It was just as good as the translation!!

Ginger Cake and Industrial Espionage

On Friday, while having lunch at the Red, I found a handsome English architecture-and-interior type magazine, with some great shots to inspire future project. I quickly engaged in some industrial espionage... Of course I can't post the images I got from the magazine here, you understand.

Behind the counter Jay and Karen are conspiring to add awesome biscotti to the menu.

Well, to be honest, there were too many people talking loudly in "my office" I had to make a hastier-than-usual exit; this place is getting too popular!!!

Politics, Group Dynamics, Child Abuse

The strangest thing happened during Toastmasters today, and I'm still trying to gauge my reaction; strange, not in the supernatural or extraordinary sense, but because I acted in an unexpected way.

In New Zealand, there's a lot of child abuse. Earlier this week, yet another wee girl died as a result, and all the talking heads are talking loudly once again. One woman (herself a controversial national figure) suggested that today we stand in silence for three minutes in tribute to Baby Nia, the latest casualty. Those who opposed claimed silence was the biggest obstacle in fighting abuse, that this was a counterproductive tribute. In the news, they said the North Island cities participated more than the South Island, (possibly because it's warmer up there?)

At today's meeting, I was to be the time-keeper for the first time; I dreaded this as much as I dread having to evaluate others; it meant I couldn't listen to anybody, but just had to stare at the stop watch and record. What's the fun of that? But you know, you've got to do these roles every now and then, so I was ready.

Today's toastmaster was a woman I met very early on in my weaving career, and encouraged me; I'm not sure if she remembers what she said, but it's the kind of thing one never forgets. She's active in, and works for, the political party I support (The Greens, who else?) and I admire her.

Anyway, Madam Toastmaster started the meeting, and then mentioned she received an email from another Nelson Toastmasters club (or a member of that club) outlining this tribute, and asked if we, as a group, would like to participate. Some discussion ensued, and it was decided we would interrupt the meeting, and whoever wanted would go outside and participate; others could wait in the room.

When the time came, I stayed in the room, and I must say I was surprised by my action. Foremost on my mind was the role of the time-keeper, and it would have been too confusing to walk out and come back and resume my role. I'm an uncoordinated simpleton; I had the stop watch in my left hand, a pen in the right, and I was more or less frozen in that position for the entire meeting; I don't remember looking at anyone's face. It was unthinkable to walk away from that.

I hate child/domestic abuse, and I've signed petitions which might help, and we donate money every year to an organization helping children. It's the kind of issue that can get me riled up. But today, I was seriously offended that, at a Toastmasters meeting, supposedly a politics-free zone, (or so I thought), I was asked to take a political, rather than a moral, position and act on it.

I was furious. I never thought I'd have a problem protesting against child abuse, but in this context I did, and still do; under the same circumstances, I'd probably do the same. And what surprised me the most is the complexity of my feeling: the world is black-and-white for me, usually, and I don't often see layers. That we were called to protest against child abuse should have been enough; yet I was quite angry to have had this sprung on me, in what seemed to be an inappropriate place, (is there ever an inappropriate place to protest against child abuse?)

Madam Toastmaster concluded the meeting saying something to the extent that taking no action is also an action, and that infuriated me. But I still like her.

*****

If you are interested in finding out more, use the baby's name "Nia" to google; there's plenty from all sides regarding just this tribute alone.

Can you hear Julie Andrews?

That's right; "These are a few of my favorite things..." All taken in my friend Agnes's studio/loom room/workshop/future living room.

Drawing a Blank

Today is the first birthday of Not a Woman of Few Words. (Thank you, thank you, thank you, dear friends!) But I can't think of a smart, interesting, entertaining, or happy subject to mull over.

It's not like I've been having an angry week, but I've been wrecking my brains wondering how to weave more interesting scarves, and my mind draws a blank. I fell on wet grass while I was away, so I've been seeing the physio, and on Sunday I'm going to this Bowen Technique lady to rectify my overcompensating for the said knee.

I could write about the lameness of female computer rage, but that's not a suitable subject for a birthday post, so I'll defer it; trust me, it's coming.

So I'm thinking two things.

One: for a person who jumps right into projects, classes or groups, and immediately gets bored, having posted for one year is a milestone. So good for me! And it's been great fun posting some of my photos, letting some steam off, or musing out loud, and "talking" to you good people. I appreciate your sharing your thoughts and commenting and just letting me know you're there. In some ways, I've tried to be a bit more conscience and not so long-winded in my writing, but heck if I were too clever and understated, it wouldn't be me, really.

It's also influenced my work in an incomprehensible but unmistakable way; whereas until two years ago I just gave up and kept postponing participating in exhibits, even though I still need three, five or ten times as much time and about as much encouragement to get anything finished, finish I do, and somehow I've been able to send work to exhibits I sign up for. Albeit sometimes sliding into offices at 4:45PM on the days the work is due, but there's no extra points in submitting early, so I'm submitting and participating. And I can't explain it now, but I know that it has something to do with working incrementally and getting satisfaction out of each step I complete. It's like posting bits and pieces, and voila, a while later, we have a series of interesting thoughts posted and shared.

The other thing I've been thinking is how I hate changes, and I really hate small changes. I do OK with big changes, like moving countries or quitting jobs; it's the little things, like the receptionist for my plumber quitting, or the supermarket rearranging the shelves that really upset me. In the last two months or so, the president of my Toastmasters Club left, and, shock, horror, Martin Rodgers, the guardian angel of Nelson artists, resigned from Arts Marketing for a bigger and brighter job in Wellington. This one really got me down, as I was just getting started, and I remember asking him about a year ago if he was here for the long haul, and he said he was. It's a great opportunity for him and well-deserved, and he's going to do a superb job, but still, I do feel devastated, and I'm not exaggerating. I don't want to get out of bed figuratively.

And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I received an email tonight saying A is the interim Arts Marketing guy (oh, yeah, she's a guy, ok) until a new one is appointed. Lordy.

So you must excuse me if this has been an uninspired birthday post. I think I'm going to bed now, and read something pleasant. At least you know where you won't find me for the next few months.

Lordy.