Restoration projects

Restorer, paper & print

When I took the "self-directed search" for my career counseling class, there were two specific jobs that matched my background, skills, and interests the best: Philologist... and Restorer, paper and print.

Here's a bit of a project I've been working on lately.... Maybe SDS was right after all.
Before & After:

For Andy

After two dormant years, unsuccessful attempts to revitalize my sad, flowerless orchid... she finally blossoms again. Because...  I stopped watering her. I neglected her. I moved out.

First

from memory

final

just for fun

Mutant Strawberries

flow chart to my heart

inspired

Tawn inspired me to revitalize the old dead blog... there are lots of tough memories on here, but plenty of wonderful things have occurred in the blank space between 2007 and 2010. Here are a few highlights.

yes I went to India



Yes I rafted the Grand Canyon














Yes my dog is a slut puppy.

another vanishing moment

These days, most of the dearest vanishing moments in my life involve comical or adorable antics of the giant puppy. But lately, I have marveled at how winter shows its mood from day to day. One day the wet and wind encased everything in a nature-popsicle; The next day, perfectly formed snowflakes whipped in from the horizon and up my nose; By the weekend, snowdrifts threaten to bury my car; This week, we’ve been seeing good ole’ Mister sun. But today, as I was waking up with my coffee and nicotine in the frozen morning, nature (which logically cannot be the subject of this sentence, so let’s just agree on “God”) showed me something new.

My first instinct was to fetch my camera and capture the phenomenon before it melted. For some reason, I feel compelled to capture every curiosity, every memory, every joy. I have the pack-rat gene (although several cross-country relocations in my 2-door hatchback has taught me the virtues of low-maintenance living). I decided, instead, to sit, inspect, relish, marvel, and try to enjoy the loveliness of the moment and resist the compulsion to preserve it. Why look at everything through the lens of a camera, when the photo fails to capture the fullness of such a stunning sight? And I sat and contemplated my own need to cling to every beautiful thing. I think I am afraid that I will forget, once the skies turn grey. I need to remember that many more lovely things are ahead. Letting go requires optimism. Letting go requires faith. You have to remember that the sun comes up every morning, no matter how dark and scary and long the night. You must concede that “the best day of your life” is a guessing game until the day you die. I guess a rich existence requires you to live your life on the bad days, too. Life isn’t scrap-booking. Pictures are just reminders. So, just for the heck of it, I took of picture of my morning. I wanted to celebrate it.

(clicking on the picture gives a close-up)

In like a lion

March 1: everything coated by a sheet of ice, wind whipping everywhichway.

March 2: Snow flying vertically into your face, nose, eyes.

March 3: Snow drifts past my knees blocking the front porch, snow drifts up to my waist in the backyard.

backyard December morning

 

I made a friend!

 

 

coming to terms with michigan

 

I love you, public radio.

Morning Edition, October 31, 2006 · So you have a problem with bats. Naturally, you call Batman. George Perkins is a bat remover who dresses like Batman. And he was called in to save Americus, Ga., from bats infesting historic homes. Sometimes they bring disease. Sometimes they just cause people to wave their arms frantically around their heads. And on this Halloween, we have to report that the state must step in. The bats are so numerous they've overwhelmed even Batman.

October 31

 

october 30th

today i am a plastic crocodile. so don't ask me how i am. 

In the Belly of the Whale

You were my shade in the hot burning sun
And Fear was the worm that killed your love
Now I am scorched with the swelter of lies
And angry enough, at God, to die

Sleepy McWonderland the Slumberjack: 20 hours at a sleep clinic

Right now I feel like a full-time patient. I clocked in more than 26 hours this week at clinics, doctor’s offices, hospitals, and recovery groups.

On Monday, I checked into the Slumber McWonderland sleep disorder center (as I like to call it). It wasn’t the best night of sleep I’ve ever had. It was challenge getting comfortable in the windowless surveillance room. Maybe it’s because I knew they were watching me, but more likely it was due to the bedtime rituals of a sleep clinic. After I did my usual (well, let’s say “frequent”) washing-grooming-pajamas routine, the technician taped six electrodes to my face, seven to my head, two to my chest and another pair to my legs (that’s 17 so far). An air tube was attached to my nose, straps affixed around my waist and mine bosom, something was taped to my neck, and some contraption with a red light was wrapped around my left index finger. I think that was all, but I can’t really say for sure. Everything had its own wire and all the wires were plugged into this switchboard-gadget next to my bed. I admit I got a little tangled more than once. I kind of felt like a robot. Or maybe a terminal patient. Maybe a Cyborg. I don’t know. Anyway, it wasn’t the best sleep I’ve ever had but, lucky for me, the next day was my nap study! Hooray!

After taking ANOTHER shower in the morning (the nurse told me to, maybe as punishment for being such a pain in the ass to rouse), I had some breakfast and waited around for my next nap. Only two hours after I got up, it was naptime. Hooray! This time only my head and heart were monitored, a meager 14 wires protruding from my body and neatly bundled into gadget that I could wear as a necklace between naps (so I could walk around and be wakeful and crap like that). Anyway, I was given 20 minutes to snooze and it took me a while to fall asleep (performance anxiety being what it is), but I got there in the end. Twenty-minute naps. Whoever heard of such a thing? I can’t remember that last time I napped for less than two hours.

Well, 90 minutes later it was naptime again and nap number two was quickly slumberful, as was nap number three. My 20 minutes always expired right in the middle of a deep dreaming sleep, Roooaaarrr! so I would spend the next 90 minutes eagerly anticipating the next nap. Well, by the time my fourth naptime came, I had started fretting over my dead mobile phone and getting a ride home from the clinic, so nap number four didn’t go as well, but by that time it was 5:00 p.m., and my technician decided that I had napped enough and sent me home for the day. Er, for the night? I came home having done nothing all day but sleep, but not really sleeping much, and I kind of felt like shit. AND I had adhesive all over my face and hair, so, yes, I took another shower. I felt like I had been released from prison or maybe freed from the Matrix and since the sleep study, I’ve been taking walks instead of taking naps. I’m no Cyborg. But, gosh, I’m tired.

The junkiest jobs...

With hair and clothes full of glitter and feathers, I am finally finished working with the "junk artists" at my church art camp. Here is a sampling of some of my favorite works of art this week.