Thursday, December 4, 2008

safety pinned to patchwork walls

Oh, the busy- it burns. It's becoming apparent that I really don't have time for my blog, but I refuse to concede defeat. The forces of laundry and work and artistic expression cannot erode my fortress of digital blankets. I imagine it a patchwork of hastily safety-pinned scraps, each scrawled with quick journal entries and glue-stick posted photos.

It's a safe place to broadcast a mosaic of unfiltered musing. I know that when I leave, other seekers and thinkers crawl in and make a nest of leftover zines and thrift-store sweaters, and they hunker down and read the latest entries. When I'm very lucky, they make post-it sized notes then fold them into tiny paper airplanes that sail in through an open window in a storybook house.

Here, I tear some small pieces, and grab a few color sharpies. I start scratching, and you find these, tucked under a coffee urn, a cracked mirror, and a box with a star cut-out. Because these are things that live in my blanket fort.

  • My hair is a mess, but I really like it. I have to fuss with it, and, sculpt it, but the length is fun.
  • Molly is fascinating. I study her like a cultural anthropologist. Her word for dangerous is "dange-wix" and I'm in love with that. She's also learned to lie- "I ceen oweddy, Mama. I oweddy had bath!" This amuses me and pleases me, for to make art or create is to craft a lie. To make stories, like her windy, tinkling tales of our adventures. She is Jack very often, or Mowgli. Beanstalks & jungles. Daddy is always a giant, pronounced with a dz.
  • I'm sleeping lately like heavenly opium angels are drugging me, and so is the baby.
  • I'm struggling with weird, twisty social anxiety that people are insisting will be cured by venturing more often into the world of people- who live outside of my computer. *shudder.*
  • Goldie's sick, and I'm secretly loving driving the fancy car, The Bean even though my commute got insane with taking the Bu to work and retrieving him. But, my ass is heated through leather (bought used, though. 'S OK) and I can control everything! With buttons! Even windows! And locks!
  • And I could choose from 7 CDs, but why? I has iPod now, a first generation Nano I think.
  • The Raconteurs' song Blue Veins? Oh. Gods: YES!
Image is a paper sample from E.B.B. Creations. Please do not tell my educated art friends that I have a weakness for scrapbooking. I don't actually do it, but I really like to fondle all the precious accessories.


  1. Good update! My brother is huge into the Raconteurs. Gotta give them another listen.

  2. Oh, I know of what you speak. And why are there not enough hours in the day, days in the week, weeks in the month?

  3. Um, you know by now about my unhealthy Jack White obsession. Hence, I second the last bullet point.

    I can't wait to see you. Maybe we can cut each other's hair in the kitchen after a nice day at the range. I'll be wearing all the clothes from my mom's house that I've been thinking of lately. Big fake fur coat, snakeskin Doc Martens....I can't believe the late 90s were TEN YEARS AGO.

  4. It's true!
    I too was in a "mommy cave" for years after the baby
    Although I have ventured out to socialize I long to go back quite often
    Take your time
    Venture out at your own speed
    Don't force it just because of a social pressure of what one is suppose to do--
    They can't understand until they've been there

    enjoy this time as it can never come back
    before you know it, 15 years will pass
    and you'll be teaching someone how to drive (and use the buttons)


  5. Someday you will be ready to move to Seattle, and then we can be bestest fwends (and Molly and Ciaran can be buddies!) because, you know, I think we've got matching souls (just dented in different spots).

    Scrapbooking is one of those things I dare not venture into, for I would be overwhelmed - I spent far too much on the hobby when I first discovered it, and since have had a no-supply purchase policy, and tell myself that if I'm going to do it, I'll do it classy rather than cutesy.

    Of course, that means actually PRINTING all those photos of Ciaran that I've had on the computer for the last two and a half years.

  6. Oh, I can't wait to hear Claudia utter the word dange-wix (aka dangerous to adults). I am sad I went to Buswater on Saturday and not Friday. We just didn't have a sitter and I knew better than to take freak-out mama to a huge crowd with hundreds of hipster art enthusiasts. Thanks for the update. I was wondering where my opium angels went. Now I know.