the crux

There is a conundrum here at the heart of this new-found (re-found?) urge to write and keep up a blog and try to convince you all that I am interesting, clever, crafty and talented (how’s that working, by the way?). I have hinted at it already, but haven’t yet been able to really let go and just fucking say it. But I think I am there now, so here goes.

My hands were meant for making.

Other conundrums include what dress I will make to wear on that very special day when I take home my new, lovely, we-will-be-bestest-friends-forever bike.


♥

Oh, possibilities. But more on this later. Because I need to get back to the point of this digression, which is just to warn that I am prone to exaggeration.

But the hands conundrum is, I think, actually big. And maybe less for what it is, but more for what it means. This conundrum gets at the core of fittingness, and raises the scariest question of all: can I pull it off? Because, last time I checked, there are not a lot of financially viable options for a person (I will say woman throughout, because I happen to be) who wakes up one morning – or over the course of several mornings – and realizes that what she really wants to do is make things. You know, with her hands. Oh, and she wants to take pretty pictures of the process. Um, on film.

What’s that headhunters? You are not about ready to burst through my door and offer your unique brand of corporate security in exchange for me living out my dreams? Well…you know what you can do? You can just eff---

Crap! Wait. Scratch that. I need you. Because I pay rent and eat food and enjoy cocktails, and – good lord! – I go to fabric stores and yarn shops and let loose. Whew! Girl gone wild!!! So I need your money. Though I am shameless enough to also try this:

How about I stay home and fiddle with the sewing machine (or the Kitchen Aid, or whatever else catches my fancy) and you rig some kind of unfortunate oversight that allows me to still cash the checks? Um, email me for information on how to make this happen.

(heh, heh. What do you think, readers? Snowball’s chance?)

But seriously, don’t let this opportunity pass you by. Email me and we can work something out.

Short of that, though, I will need to find a balance. It’s just that the nine-to-five takes up so much time. Eight hours spent subjecting my hands to pecking at keyboards and shoveling chips, pretzels, cookies, donuts, or what have you into my mouth (to make the time go by faster), and by the end of it all they have lost any lingering memory of what they are supposed to do. Or maybe it’s just that my internal sloth drive kicks in and I am completely unable to shake off the sugar coma and just get to doing everything that I have dreamed of doing all day long. Great things like making quilts, kneading bread, knitting the great, simple cardigan that will be perfect with everything, or sewing an entire wardrobe (oh yes, the dreams get awfully big around here). And then by the time the weekend comes, I get so focused on the reality that I am not required to be doing anything that I simply don’t. Both days.

You can see where this is going: my own special brand of circular logic.

Ok. But stop. Really. The going round and round in circles is dizzying. Anyway, it makes me a cranky (and probably also exceptionally boring) person.

So this new (and by new, I mean reinvented) internet place is one I am dreaming up as I go. But if there is a singular vision or purpose here, I think that’s pretty much it: forward motion.

Go progress! Sis-boom-bah!

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And here are some completely unrelated happy things for you. You know, before you click away forever.

perfect strawberries
and all the colors of summer
a list for the ages
an irresistible challenge
and a chance to speak your mind


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Happy weekend, folks! It's a good, long one.

so this is the goal

via Keri Smith

What a noble aim this is. My feelers are out for the perfect sewing/knitting/picture taking/writing/bicycling gig. (What.)

I am hoping for a miracle.

July: not to put too much pressure on you, but let’s get started on this. Shall we? (I am so glad you are here.)

what he sees

[I never think to take pictures of myself unless I am all dolled up. Which is (regrettably) not an everyday thing.]

Taking preventive steps against our inevitable summer doldrums, Rick and I got a start on queuing up our to-do lists for the next few months. For mine, I have ordered every baking notion conceivable: a pastry mat, hand-held blender, cookie sheet, silpat, and even a mixing bowl complete with handle and spout. Because, you know, nothing says summer like slaving away in close proximity to a hot oven.

In an exciting twist, Rick acquired a sort of how-to book for photography. Or – let me be precise – a how-to book for digital photography. (The excellent three-part collection by Scott Kelby, if you’re interested.)

My first job, of course, was to make fun of him a bit (ok, or maybe more than a bit – sorry, Rick) for ordering what is essentially the digital cameras for dummies series. Then I got down to the inevitable task of greedily perusing every page of volume 1 before he could get his hands on it.

Neat tricks I discovered include:

• Adjusting the white balance to compensate for ambient light (a revelation!)
• And I was inspired to bravely explore other cool settings on Rick’s Canon ELPH: vivid color and sepia, zoom blur, portrait mode

(Yes, for those of you keeping score, not only did I deign to look through his new books but, because of the over-abundance of magnanimity inside me, I also condescended to practice these techniques on his digital camera. No wonder he keeps me.)

These things alone would have kept me happily snapping digital photos for weeks, all besotted with a new sense of wonder. And then – behold! – I stumbled upon this sage advice:

One theme you'll see again and again throughout this book is to shoot from angles we don't see every day...If you want to create mountain shots that have real interest, give people a view they don't normally see -- shoot from up high...(This is the same theory as not shooting down on flowers. We don't shoot down on flowers because that's the view we normally have of them. In turn, we don't shoot up at mountains, because we always see them from that same view. It's boring, regular, and doesn't show your viewer something they haven't seen a hundred times before.)

[Scott Kelby's Digital Photography, Volume 1]

Now, let me clarify: I am not necessarily convinced of this theory when applied strictly as suggested. I have seen many a fine mountain shot taken from below, and have favorited (in flickr speak) several lovely flower shots taken from above. Though Mr. Kelby’s argument has its merits, it seems fairly useless to me as a hard-and-fast rule. It is pure genius, however, as a philosophy.

Taken as a general theory for life, this seeing from uncommon vantage points has real possibility. Occasionally I have moments where the possibility of my own appeal is lost on me — moments when I feel hopelessly fat, hopelessly unsexy, hopelessly uncreative and untalented. And it strikes me as such an extraordinary thing that there is even one person who is deluded enough to think otherwise. Remarkably, Rick does.

Whenever I am hormonally or emotionally tempted to completely underestimate my abilities or value, or when I succumb to an attack of unreasonably excessive humility, this is what I should remember. This is when I should take a minute to drop the magnifying glass I use to uncover every last weakness and fault, and look at myself through his rose-colored glasses instead.

(It feels like such a brave step, but really it is the only one that makes sense.)

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P.S. Welcome to the grand re-opening of odd pear. Now with more writing!

fridays are for photobooths

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And there is this. Which I know has nothing at all do with him and me; nonetheless, parts of it feel strangely biographical.

I am so ready to be the footloose half of this duo.