Singing on Sunday

Some days I sound just like Natalie Merchant.
Promise.
Sing tells me I do all the time.

P.S. In case you didn't know, "Sing" is the orange puddle of kitty trying to sleep his way through the afternoon.

Some Randoms Thoughts

Have you ever danced so much that when you woke the next morning, the balls of your feet were swollen? We're not talking just a little sore, we're talking "feels like puffy clouds" and I will most definitely NOT be taking a run this afternoon.

Instead I am sitting inside, sipping tea and popping ripe blackberries, being pleased at how much it was worth it.


While I'm at it, I thought I would share a list with you, inspired by my lovely Devon and her crazy list making skills.

Loveliness:
The sound of waves
Strawberries with brown sugar and sour cream
Horse riding at dusk
Tasting snow
Solitary hikes
Finding bones
Going out to breakfast
Rain on my nose
Squeezing snapdragons
Laughing until my cheeks ache
Afternoon cappuccinos
Kayaking on the river
Lauryn Hill
Hearing ravens knock
Sipping Bailey's at a campfire
White dresses
Snuggly kitty boys
Pristine kitchens
Finding money in pockets
Buying new brushes
Pedicures
Design magazines
Fresh picked tomatoes
Moss

Not so Lovely:
Cleaning the shower
Pork
Graffiti on trees
Smell of eggs cooking
Paying for parking
Temperatures in the 100 degrees
Ill-fitting undergarments
Broken nails
Dead houseplants
Buzzer alarms
Sofa art
Fussy sewing machines
Sticky fingers
Mushrooms
The stair machine
Dry sharpie pens
Crispy cookies
Coldplay
Hearing the word "hecka"
Corn syrup
Unwashed sheets
Going to the bank
Smokers outside my bedroom window
Dull razors
Running out of water while sitting in traffic
Spotty cell phone service

Seller's Remorse

Well, that may have been a bit over-dramatized. I know that I promised (and asked to be held accountable) in my mission to make pillows for myself in rich reds and teals just a few short posts back but this one, this one is oh so adorable! When it flies away I may be a bit sad, but will rest easy knowing that a good home awaits this little sweetie.


I really debated about keeping it, but BC reminded me of my current mission which will have to kept be a secret for now. (but I will tell you, it has to do with SOMEONE making SOMETHING absolutely stunning-that-I-can't-stop-thinking-about which I will be gleefully purchasing as soon as I come up with a little funding from my own art sales - hence the crazed pillow-making-madness that was this past weekend)

And while we are on the subject of pillow-making-madness I am so pleased to present some silliness called "Saturday Afternoon Projecting." If you click here, you will be treated to an eye-feast of small-scale power tools, deadly hot irons, gin, more gin, and a snappy sound track all created by my talented man.



Clinksies friends, enjoy your new week.

Thursday

It has been a fabulous day. Long (oh so long when you get up at 5:30 to drive your neighbors to the airport), prosperous and productive.
Today I:
1) Took myself out to breakfast - it's been way too long (and breakfast is so my favorite meal)
2) Wrote my New and Improved artist statement (for the website - I promise I'm working on it!)
3) Spent several hours painting in the studio (red birds upon red birds, just wait, you'll see it)
4) Whipped up two new pillows and listed them in the shop (these two, I tell you, they Are Some Pillows!)
5) Ran my new favorite three mile loop in the early sunset (I am growing to love "the stairs", seriously!)
6) Sipped a tasty beverage while sitting on the back stairs in the waning light of the sun (the most perfect temperature)
7) Ate a HUGE salad and watched some Family Guy (solo night = big salad, no meat, hooray!)
8) Made granola (ok, that's actually what I will be doing as soon as I post this, but if I write it down then it will get done. See how that works?)


August 7th 2008
Evening Discoveries

The sticky growl of tires on asphalt
(three hundred feet away)
Drowns out the evening song of the gnats
(three feet away)
Every vein in the maple leaves sharply illuminated
(too far to touch)
Glinting off remnants of a party on the stairs
(below my feet)
I sit awaiting the pigeons
(they're not here yet)
In the watery haze of sunset
(all eyes to the west)

The First Harvest

When long summer days hang musty in the golden air, when the afternoon's warmth lingers into the night, when the spiders have all spun their crystalline webs, it is blackberry picking time. There is no season I look forward to each year as much as blackberry season, no food I am so greedy with while harvesting (one for the bucket, two for me) as blackberries. And last night, it was finally time.




In the lilting evening breeze, BC and I harvested our first cache of the year, flirting with nature, garden spiders and gopher snakes along the bus stop for the Number 19 (something I love about this city: Our most urban practices weave through wild and overgrown stretches, making you forget, for just one moment, that you are still city-bound).


A Story-Title for "Mokelumne" 2005

Blackberries fall like thorned curtains, staining fingers.
Beaver tails slap
cows bray
oars gently splash
All sounds competing for my unconscious notice.
One silver tree, caught by the sun’s falling rays
Stands like a blessing for all the wonder there is yet to see on the river.