Collecting & Visual Lists

One of the cool things about collecting something is the whole picture that several objects can create. Taking pictures of something as simple as a pair of shoes can create an interesting image of my office and the inhabitants. I thought it would be easier to photograph shoes than the face of the people who wear them. It turns out that people feel very insecure about their shoes. One person in my office adamantly refused to have his shoes photographed, out of insecurity. About 75% of the people I asked were apologetic over the shoes they had worn. They didn't think they were the "right" shoes--they had better ones at home, if only they'd known I was taking pictures! Then there were the few that had several pairs of shoes hiding underneath their desks. "Which ones should I wear?" They asked. My point wasn't a fashion show or to look good--my point was to observe something normal and everyday, that also had an individual quality. I love the whole picture they create--it feels intimate and interesting!

I've been trying to think of other visual lists I could do. If I had more guts, I'd love to collect photographs of people reading on the subway. New Yorkers are readers and it's always interesting to see what people are consumed in during their commute. Or what about the coffee mugs in people's offices? Or how about a whole collection of people's hands?

Ever since I got a Mr. Bento lunchbox, I've been participating in the Mr. Bento Porn pool on flickr. What I like about this, is that I've been collecting my lunches. I've also been doing a collection of my favorite cups.

What do you collect?

More of my favorites from shoe collecting:

Dylan

Patricia

Ambika

Dorothy

Take Your Art to Work Day: People's Shoes

I am always trying to figure a way to bring my real life with me when I go into the office--it keeps me sane. I've written about this in many posts. There are a million things you can do to shake up the way you view your world--one way is to study one ordinary thing and collect it. Here's this week's collection: people's shoes.

What can you tell about the people you work with by looking only at their shoes? There's something that's engaging about asking co-workers on a cold Tuesday morning if you can photograph their shoes. Something in them PERKS UP. Something in me perks up too. We suddenly become CONSPIRATORS. And behold:

Kim's shiny boots

Evrod's Loafers

Adrienne's brown buckles

Ronnie's blue notes

Carmella's Black Points

Today...

...I started a new book and was so excited I could barely read the first sentence.

...I looked at the beauiful red faced GE building as I passed it. I thought about Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, and how they protested the destruction of Diego's mural inside this very building.

...I feel tender and strong like new skin.

...I feel ugly in my dull clothes.

...I want a haircut.

...I want to call all my friends and say thank you.

...I wrote a letter and sent it, because when it comes down to it, words are all we have, and why not use them?

...someone gave me wintergreen colored candy heart that read: u go girl.

...okay, I will.

Going Slow

I am not used to these four day "weekends" that I have recently acquired. I thought it was Sunday THREE DAYS IN A ROW. I have so much more time on my hands, I feel myself rebelling. I get things done quickly, and so I started procrastinating on other things to get done, so I am squeezing them into the metaphorical cracks. In any case, I liked coming into work today feeling ready to work. This balance of more me, less job is good, I think.

So last night I went to my first meditation class. This is something I've been meaning to do for about a year. My shrink recommended it, which made me think, if SHE thinks I need help, I better get it! Turns out meditation is REALLY HARD. It's a physical act and when you sit there, your mind becomes unvelied--or unraveled, as it happens, with me. I know that I can be a THINKER. I can THINK all the live long day. It's a hobby. That, and yearning. Once I settled into the position and began meditating, it was like my mind became a caged raccoon. Have you ever cornered a raccoon? They look so docile until they feel trapped--then they turn into writhing, raviged beasts. It was scary to sit there and watch as my mind did flips and panicked under so much quiet. It screamed at me: My back hurts! No time has passed at all! You're going to hyperventalate! Then it rolled movies at me, of scenerios that either have happened or I am afraid will happen. ANYTHING to stop the simple counting of my breath.

My friend Nate goes all the time and even just spent a retreat of meditation and silence. He asked before we went in if I wanted to stay through all three sessions. On the way up the elevator, I was like OH YEAH, OF COURSE. I might as well do it all! After the first session was spent getting instruction, I only made it through the second session--by the skin of my breath!
Afterwords, Howard, my instructor, asked me how it went. I said, "It's HARD!" To which he smiled and said, "Yes it is." Then he told me I was lucky--because some people find it easy right away and then feel SCREWED when it gets tough later.

When I left the zen center, I noticed immediately how tired I was, and how SLOW I felt like going. Outside, the New York streets were crazy with activity and rushing. Normally, I fling myself into it, cursing the slow pokes, as I rush by. Not this time. I moved slowly and carefully. I heard the train coming and instead of running to catch it, I let it go. My body had weight to it. When I got home, I got into bed, and I haven't slept so well in ages. I think this mind slowing thing might have something to it after all.

Do You See the Resemblence? Or Is It Just Me?

An Old Friend Who Is Better From Time and Distance

Graham got up at 5:30 this morning to go teach his first classes of the semester (Yay, professor!). I haven't been sleeping a ton lately--I've just felt SO AWAKE--that I ended up getting up with him. Usually, it's a slow morning with drinking coffee, three pages in my journal, and npr, but I had so much time on my hands that I decided to write three pages in my journal, take a picture for the cup of the day flickr group, make my lunch and take a picture of that for the Mr. Bento flickr group, play with my cat Kingsley (who Graham and I have decided looks like Will Ferrel), finish reading the novel I was reading, and then leave early and walk 35 blocks to work.

Writing this down, I am wondering if I am a little nuts. Wait, don't answer that...

People razz me (a.k.a. give me shit) about all the gushing I do about Graham here. It's true, I am a little smitten with the man (I sometime stalk him when we are at home), but here's something that not many people get: I also LIKE (a.k.a need) BEING ALONE. Sometimes the alone time happens and I don't think about it, because it happens naturally, and sometimes I consciously go out on my own.

A couple of months ago, I went to Boston to do a marathon traveling endeavor to record some new songs in Newburyport. Graham, being both a professor and a graduate student, could not go. At first, it took all my strength to leave, because I was already missing him and my cats. Then, when I got on the bus, I suddenly felt GIDDY. When was the last time I just stared out on the road and listened to music all by myself? Before Graham (B.G.) I used to do this ALL THE TIME. I didn't think about it. Now, this kind of being alone greeted me like an old friend who is better from time and distance.

It turned out to be a very important trip for me. Road trips are essential in my life. Period. Turns out, I really need to take the occasional road trip on my own. There was room to dream, to think, to do all the things that traveling--even to a place just 4 hours a way--can create for you.

On Monday, I took a day all to myself and went for a long walk, and treated myself to a cup of tea at my favorite place to write, The Algonquin. Then I went to the bookstore. I came home happy. This morning it was like that too--although not as conscious. It was of the natural, surprise variety. It's good to go for a walk in the morning, and feel at home in the world.

The Things I Carry

A few months ago, Graham and I were walking down a rainy 3rd Avenue, when we spotted a large pocketbook. It was filled to the brim with a young woman's life--not just her money, but all her identification and various paraphernalia. Here's a bit of advice: put your "if found, please return to..." information in your wallet! After her license proved fruitless for an address to mail it back to her, we were forced to dig deeper. It was very uncomfortable, because I wanted to be as respectful as I could, but I also wanted to get this thing back to her as soon as possible--as it obviously HER LIFE in there! I was amazed at how much the things she carried in her pocketbook painted a picture of who she was.*

I've been making lists the last couple of days for ideas of things to do when in need of a new way to look at the world. I was inspired to draw my lunch box yesterday and to note all the things I brought for lunch--which made me think, what else do I bring with me everyday? What story do they tell all on their own?

I carry a bag with me everywhere I go. I switch off sometimes, but my favorite bag is one my friend Jenny Sue made me for my birthday two years ago, out of a tablecloths she bought at the Santa Cruz flea market. I love the fabric and how it reminds me of her. It has ink stains on the bottom from when my pens come loose. I recently started carrying a smaller purse that my friend Meg gave me years ago inside the bag, because I got so sick of never being able to find my keys or wallet or phone. I love this purse because it's fuzzy like a stuffed animal, and it's a good size for the smaller things. Graham always asks me, "Why do you need all this stuff?"
"Just in case." I say.
"Just in case of WHAT?"
"If I get stranded anywhere."
"Are you really going to want your JOURNAL if you are STRANDED?"
"Absolutely."

What are the things you use every day and what are the stories they could tell? Your phone, or your keys or even your glasses. Where did you get your coat and where have you worn it--what streets has it seen and in what cities? The essential things that we carry with us, all live with us. What do they look like and what would they say, if they could speak?

*By the way, we got the pocketbook to her at last, completely in tact. She called us and asked, "How did you find me?" In your pocketbook.

My favorite Christmas Present

A gift from Graham

Offbeat Bride

Among all the other nuttiness in California, Graham and I also had to plan wedding stuff. We actually found a very beautiful place, that we feel comfortable at, and what’s more is: WE HAVE A DATE! It feels REAL now. There’s a destination we can plan towards now. Hooray for August 5!

As everyone probably knows, deciding on and planning a wedding is a LOADED endeavor. There is a lot of SHIZZLE that comes with planning a wedding, what with the emotions and expectations and the opinions and societal ideologies. Once Graham and I actually started talking about it, I was surprised at the INTENSE FEELINGS we BOTH had about it. Also, I felt a little BLIND leading into thinking about a wedding, because a) we don’t have money and my parents aren’t paying for it, b) I just didn’t want to buy into the whole INDUSTRY of weddings that tell you that you HAVE TO have certain things, even though they don’t have any meaning to you and c) I wanted something that reflected US and not some picture.

Enter: Offbeat Bride by Ariel Meadow Stallings (thank you Marilyn!).

Have you ever looked at a wedding planning book or a bridezilla magazine? Maybe they make sense to you, but I had yet to find one that felt RELEVENT AT ALL to Graham and I. Most of them are pretty sexist, in that they assume the groom has NO PLACE in the planning or in wanting to plan. They also just assume that everyone wants the cookie-cutter wedding—which some people and do and that is totally cool, but what if you’re, well, OFFBEAT, and you have a slightly different vision or perhaps NO CLUE AT ALL, because the usual formula doesn’t fit, but you don’t know what does (that would be me).

THIS IS THE BOOK. I knew somehow this book was for me, because the author’s name was Ariel Meadow, and being a Summer Sparrow, I thought, just MAYBE we might have a similar sense of the world.

Yep.

Ariel is a very funny and gutsy writer. This book is part memoir, part wedding planning guide. Her own wedding story is great and I felt at last that I could somehow RELATE. Also, the suggestions in it are just filled with common sense and good ideas. I read her book and felt relieved and excited.

Two friends of mine are also getting married and I am buying it for them. I can’t recommend this book enough for people who are looking for a wedding of their own making.

Check out the Offbeat Bride Site!

Buy the Book!

Judy IS the Good Stuff

Gather 'round ladies and gents and feast your eyes upon the ENCHANTED and MOST EXCELLENT Judy Lawrence, who turns 35 today. I've known Judy since we were wee lassies in the second grade. My earliest memory of Judy was when she brought her unclothed babydoll to school and it had two things going for it: It was seriously anotomically correct and it was seriously A BOY. This was a babydoll with a little something ELSE going on, and therefor, Judy was suddenly someone to me who had a little something going on. She has remained to me as someone VERY WORLDLY indeed.

She always has had a FUNNY ASS sense of humor that has kept us all in stitches. I remember once, during a slumber party, she used my Snoopy bathingsuit to display what projectile vomiting looked like, by wadding it into her mouth and PROJECTILING it. We all laughed our asses off, but I could never bring myself to dress my Snoopy in that bathingsuit again.

Whenever I see her I am always afraid that I am going to come off like a STALKER because, I can't stop asking her where she bought some hot item of clothing. 98% of the time the answer will be Target, but Judy, I've been to Target and while they have some good deals, NONE OF THEM make me look as COOL as YOU. DANG!

She's always played the sort of SAGE roll in our group of friends. I have a completely made up image of Judy in my mind, sitting very zen like on a wall, while we all go to her for answers to the universe. It shouldn't have been a surprise when she drove across the country a number of years ago, and started to write about her experiences, that we discovered that she was a writer of considerable gifts. It was like seeing this whole new view of someone you've known for 20 years. They speak, and out comes beautiful beautiful music. Judy's writing is like her, very smart, very funny, and sometimes so shockingly creative, it takes your breath away.

Have I also mentioned that she is amazingly loyal and loving? She has five nieces and nephews who are all blessed by her care, her abilities as a teacher, and her humor.

Our group of friends is very rare, in that we've all stayed friends for nearly thirty years. She once signed a group e-mail to her wide range of friends, "If it were up to me, you would all get all the good stuff."

Judy, you ARE the good stuff.

Happy Birthday.

My Future In-Laws

A Dream Come True

Journal Entry before I left San Francisco

I got back on Friday morning, after a TWO HOUR delay, which made the red eye go to star spangled banner eye. After two days of serious effed up jet lag and two days of debilitating migraine, I feel like today is the day I just got back into town. HOORAY!

I took the subway into work--my new assignment at the same place I've been working for a year--where I only work for THREE DAYS A WEEK (thank you very much). I am SO HAPPY about this new development. For the first time in my life, I have made a conscious effort to make more time for my art. The idea that I have FOUR DAYS outside an office, is just so new to me I can't even imagine what that paradigm shift will feel like.

Like a lot of people, I have had fantasies for years about quitting the working week cold turkey to do my art. I've been angry at spending so much of my life pent up in an environment that is not my natural habitat, doing things that I am good at, but totally bored with. I kept trying to make plans or have ideas how one MAGICAL day I could get to a MAGICAL place and have EVERYTHING FIGURED OUT, so that I could give notice to that world, and fly away on a magic carpet ride to BEING AN ARTIST full-time.

But here are the things that this plan or idea ignores:

*the fact that it's hard to make that plan succinctly, when you are working 40 hours a week at one job, and 20 hours (or more) at another job (your art). After 10 years of this dynamic, burn out is totally natural and yet terrifying.
*the fact that I don't do well without STRUCTURE. Give me everyday all to myself and I panic and slip into a sort of ice age, where I FREEZE.
*The fact that all or nothing thinking has gotten me into TROUBLE in the past.

The truth is I need a job right now, not only to make sure I have the basics covered, but to make me have SOMETHING that gets me into the world a little. I need people, I need a reason to go outside, I need a predetermined schedule. Knowing that, I can still make my art a priority. It's a good start.

Financially, it's of course a shift that will be interesting to see (ahem) how it works, but it's actually finacially EXACTLY what I dreamed of when I left California 18 months ago. I was at a crappy job that paid me rediculously low. I remember saying to my friend Jen at the time, "My fantasy is to find a job in New York that is half the time, at twice the pay." VOILA!

This is a great thing to remind myself who gets so jealous of other people's apprent ability to manifest dreams into realities. Apparently, I can do it too. DANG!

This is a great start to the New Year. I have LOTS OF PLANS. It will be interesting to see what will ACTUALLY happen (it never looks like you think--for better or for worse), but I am excited to finally give myself time to the things that matter most. This is a dream come true. Truly.

The Equation

So, this is how my tavel home to California is starting to have its own shapes and rituals: As last year, I travel too much, have too much family stress, eat too much food, don't see enough friends, get burned out and exhuasted, and get sick. All the above has happened before and all this happened this trip. I'm currently nursing a cold that came hurdling down on me New Year's Day. I feel weak and exhausted.

After having some guilt over greeting another group of people I love with TILT flashing in my eye sockets, I realized that it isn't that often that I RELATE so INTENSELY and CONSTANTLY the way you do when you VISIT people. Try visiting 5 households, in 5 cities, with a gaggle of loose friends flung from here to there, peppering also family relations and phone calls GALORE, and you have the equation that is making me really want my own bed, just some quiet time to not RELATE and DO and VISIT.

Graham and I are currently holed up and in my friends' Sara & Brian's beautiful pad in San Francisco (hi guys!). After dinner last night, they showed us the maps and book guides and Brian suggested we go see the new museum, and I said thank you, but inside the thought of punding the pavement for anything other than a burrito made me want to PASS OUT. I felt like saying, is it okay, if we do nothing at all, but sit in silence?

I love every single person that we've visited and had planned to visit, but didn't get to (Hi Juju! Hi Vitali!), but if I don't get some alone time soon, I may start resembling something akin to the Wolfman with a bad RASH. I won't know whether to thrash at someone else or my own HORRIFIC SKIN.

For the icing on the cake, we are taking a RED EYE home tomorrow night, just because we haven't done ENOUGH exhausting travel. By the time we land in New York, I expect to be mute, pink eyed, and bald. I think we'll try something different next year.