Head on keyboard

Rule: Write in the morning. Or failing that, because we all have day jobs and not everybody's a morning person, get adequate amounts of sleep. It's different for everybody. Most importantly, don't spend half your night doing one type of creative thing that expect to conjure enough brain power to write properly.

WHYYYYYYYYYYy am I so tired? WHYYYYYYYYYY?? I'm beginning to think I have some sort of thyroid issue. But it isn't swollen, so I don't know what's going on. Did you know your thyroid is in your neck? I don't really feel like there's a lot in my neck. A tube for food and drink, a tube for air, a tube for demons. Turns out there's other junk like glands.

So in other news, I'm having breakfast for dinner because I'm lazy and sleepy. Tomorrow, however, I believe I'm going to make a pecan pie.



BAM that's what I'm gonna eat. Eggs over easy on Muenster on toast. I'm going to eat it like this: pick up like a pizza. Eat all the white and cheese and toast portion. Nibble around yolk portion to get as close as possible without breaking the yolk. Do a couple rounds of nervous nibbling. Shove the yolk and cheese and toast portion completely into mouth (now you understand the nibbles). Enjoy the runny and creamy yolk, combining with the buttery cheese, on top of the crunchy toast. All the flavors completely conserved in the mouth. Yes, it is as grostesque and ridiculous as it appears.

On top of it all, I've been reading a lot of Failbooking.com and it turns out, my feeds are not as interesting or offensive. You win some, you lose some. Off to bed or else this will get our of control.

Time to revise old writing.

A bit of lighthearted fun in considering everyday objects.

Highlighter
Spends its days making some ideas more important than others. It is the color of citrus fruits sent in from joyful, sunny places. Eye-attractant, it pulls your attention like a burly sailor pulls a man who's gone overboard. Something this powerful shouldn't cost under a dollar. But you're not going to tell the corporates that. It's an interpreter of text, a summarizer, a distiller of meaning. It's a cylinder of controlled liquid epiphany. It is your cue to say, "Aha!"


Ballad of the TP
Toilet paper rolls
Sit soft and white
Like unhatched eggs in a nest.
They wait in the dark cabinet
Only to have their lives
Unraveled
In the light.

Rule: Make yourself look at your old writing. Cry a little bit. Then try to make it better.

Ugh inky augh augh orp.

I joined Twitter a while back, and lots of people tweet about what they're thinking, who they're with, what they're doing, and where they are. I've noticed in the "where" tweets, that humans, even with all these maps, navigation technology, general technology, and hell, language, still refer to places by natural landmarks and topography. Every city seems to have a "hill" that they're on, or people mention what mountain they're facing, what valley they're in. It's nice to know that deep down inside, we're still cavemen navigating locally by the land, and that we connect to it by communicating our location to others. It feels both instinctual and tribal.

I'm here, on this landmark. When I'm gone, this landmark will still be here. And somebody will be standing there, announcing his presence to somebody in our community. They will hear him, and they will know where he is by sight, or by memory. They'll be able to feel the strength that it takes to climb a hill in their legs, or remember the feeling of wind through their garments as they enter a valley. They might hear the lapping of a lake and know the curve of the shoreline: it reminds them of the line of a woman's body, as she walks away. They'll know in their minds and their bodies exactly where he is.

Or they'll look it up on Google Maps.

Rule: Be a caveman sometimes. Memorize places with your body.

Speaking of...

So I had taken a few photos of a present that I DID complete, but forgot to post them. WHOOPSIE. I had gotten my boy a fancy wine-tasting class, but just printing out an email and giving it to him would've been fine, but I wanted slightly more panache. Thought it might be fun to have a bit of a steampunk feel to it instead of going for a more obvious motif. All lettering and embellishment done by hand.






Rule: look up all components of your project before you start using scissors. or measure twice cut once or something. I forgot to look up what real clock/watch movements looked like and one of my gears is a little funny-looking.

January, where did you go?

So I've been working on this Christmas present for an awesome friend of mine for a couple of months now. January is here, so uh, the first part of my present is kind of useless. So I figured there'd be no harm in sharing it online.



I suppose I should really have set little mini-deadlines for myself, but sometimes, art just doesn't work that way. In this case, it's because the numbering of months is really tedious. *sigh* oh well. back to work.

Rule: Get all the tedious parts of a project out of the way first, when you're super excited about, then the fun stuff might keep you motivated enough to keep up the pace.

One letter at a time.

If you are having troubles with the "tights are not pants" concept

Here is the rule:

If the top you are wearing could be mistaken for a mini-dress WHILE ON YOUR BODY, tights = ok as emergency ass-cover.

If the top you are wearing can not be in any way construed as a mini-dress and is mostly a long top WHILE ON YOUR BODY, tights = unacceptible.

I don't care if you borrowed your friend's tunic and it is plenty long on her, if you feel like you would have to take the tiniest steps in an enclosed, windless space in order for nobody to see your business in only the top, you should really put some pants on. If you could take long strides and maybe flash side-thigh action, but not really any butt cheek and definitely no cooter, tights or pants will do.

I promise I'm working on a better post. It's about handwriting. Get ready!