"Good Taste, Bad Taste"
"Good Taste, Bad Taste"
Laura and I waited until the last customer came and got her pants, then we had an excursion, first to Fry's Electronic's, and later to Bookman's. My stomach was bloated something fierce. Was it the bad egg nog I'd eaten earlier. That size 20 skirt, which normally needs belted in, fit taut around the sore belly. Laura was feeling similarly miserable. She'd also had the egg nog. Or was it the fries?Go Forward...Our outing would have been more enjoyable without this. But we did our best to distract ourselves. I was looking at books of artistic photography at Bookman's. Some of the captured images were surprising. I didn't find them artistic. In fact, some were downright disturbing. But the photographer found art in them. The editor of the publishing house that printed the books found them worthy. Who is right? Mystified me, or them?
Or can art be judged? I've seen depictions of ugly garbage held up as art. I want to cry out that the 'artist' is insulting us and playing a bad joke. Is it indictive of a seriously sick society that such things are brought before us? Or am I merely being narrow minded?
With that in mind, I'll share a photo I captured today while sewing. I looked at the mess of bobbins piled up, with their threads entangled with pins, and found something artistic about it. The interplay of the repetition of circular forms contrasted with the various diagonal elements is visually pleasing to me. It's amusing as an record of amazing mess, as well. In my haste to get things done, I don't take the time to put the bobbins away once I'm finished with them. So the little collection grows, until I have a tangled up conglomeration of immense proportion. Is this picture 34K of web waste? Or art? You decide.
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Milk and crackers - That's my big New Year's celebration. We did stay up and watched TV. "Contact", the movie adapted from a Carl Sagan story about a young scientist who makes first contact with extra terrestrials, was on HBO. We saw it again. It provoked just as much conversation between Julia and Laura as it did last time. As they debated the possibility of other life forms in space, and whether that, too, is another form of belief akin to religion, I tackled the dishes.
As the last remaining hours of 1998 trickled away, we watched comedians. I howled with laughter, (more than Julia and Laura did), at Jerry Seinfield and Jeff Foxworthy. Laughter is fine celebration.
An early breakfast of 7-up, and more tummy medicine, as I sip 7-up and hope the tagamet will sooth the innards, I type thoughts of yesterday. May all of you few and precious readers have a great New Year! May you find beauty where ever you look, and have many wonderful memories to collect. While my mind's been pondering good taste, bad taste issues, here's a little photo of some tangerines:
I couldn't resist!
I did some serious art, for a change, adding to my bird pics by one more. The Western Tanager is joining a bluebird, a flicker, a hummingbird, and a cardinal. I linked it to A Tale Told With Time first. Later I'll get it in the art gallery. Besides the art, I've been watching movies. Oh, the movies we've seen this long weekend:
Species II - awful, unnecessary gory violence for the sake of gore. The plot was so little intriguing, I fell asleep. The only redeeming virtue is the female alien is quite cute. But cute you can get with almost any other movie.
Eye candy is found in Armageddon with Liv Taylor. (did I get her name right?) Anyhow, she's the daughter of the character Bruce Willis plays. Eye candy, combined with an edge of your seat plot, and a thrilling myth-making conclusion.
Later today, we watched Franky Starlight on the Independent Film Channel. It's a quiet movie about the true story of a dwarf named Frank Bois who wrote a book about his adventures, stargazing, and his mother. He finds true love, as well. Laura's son James found it too slow, as it didn't contain enough 'kickass' drama to suit him. But I liked it. It's a real story about a real man. 'Two thumbs up!"
6:30am - glass cranberry juice - not hungry
January 4, 1999
Another Day Of Eating Twice What The Average Small Female Eats...
8:00am - 'blue Monday', so much to do...
10:00am - two green corn tamales, mug 7-up
12:00pm - mug of water
1:00pm - two large dates
2:00pm - baked yam with small amount butter
3:00pm - TWO mugs of 7-up - thirsty!
4:30pm - Laura comes into the sewing room. "You've been at it for eleven hours. Time to quit! " I dragged my buggy eyed self out of there soon after. I'll have tomorrow to work on the big project, as James is going to go with Laura into Tucson. Relief! I got almost all the other stuff done, though.
5:00pm - mug of water
5:30pm - another yam
6:00pm - huge plate of spaghetti - one of Laura's tastiest
8:00pm - mug of water - Thus ends another day of eating twice what the average small female eats. I need not wonder why my weight has settled in at 182 and refuges to budge. Oh well . . .tomorrow is another day.
Random White light, night,
afraid of heights
afraid of depths,
afraid of falling,
calling home,
home alone,
no alone,
no, no,
not, knotted,
knotted tangle we weave,
we believe,
we percieve,
we theive,
we theive the stolen hours,
hours of power,
pow - her,
powder,
all is powder,
dust, vanity,
vanity dripping,
vanity dripping from holes
of unconcealed waste
waist, what waist?
Too much haste,
these rushed days,
time to make our plays,
things always stay
just the way they are,
the way they are,
the way they were,
the way they never were.
These are the days
of the white light,
night falling
day after night
after day.
Say there is no end.
The end.JAL, 1-5-99
What did I say here? Was this a poem? Similar to the "Is this art" pic I had here a bit ago. Anyway I started with the first word that popped into my head. And the next. And the next . . . Is this a poem? You decide.
Anyway, it was a fun ramble.
Randomly yours,
The big sewing project is done. I made a covering for a bullet proof vest, so the man can wear it outside, using a uniform shirt. My design turned out rather well. I'll likely see more of these. But now that the actual design has been figured out, it won't be so hard. The plates that go inside the vest are quite heavy. But then they must be if they are to stop a bullet. After the sewing, we went to Wal -Mart. I headed directly to their CD dept., and sampled various albums. The "Prince of Egypt" soundtrack intrigued me, as I'd just read earlier today that the famous online journalist "Kymm" saw the film and bought it. I do this with all these Disney type cartoon shows. By the time the movie comes out in video, it is an odd sensation to hear all the music I know so well, superimposed on an unfamiliar plot. It's now playing as I type. Several choral songs, including a lovely acapella song by 'Boys II Men' help satisy my craving for choral music.
I had a huge piece pumpkin pie around 6:30pm. From 9:00pm on, I took a pepcid every half hour or so until I took four. Just because Laura had cut that pie into three big pieces didn't mean I had to eat ALL my share in one sitting. The acid which kept rising up and lodging in my throat told me how stupid I was.
6:40am - TWO of my favorite online journalists are packing it up and calling it quits. The hours they spent on the computer caused problems with their spouses. I'll miss Scrawls and My Life: An Ongoing Reinterpretation, but I understand their difficulties. I wish them wisdom. With that said, I'll end this for the moment, and get back to work. Necessary sewing is done for the day, but I have this irritating mystery of a lost ledger book to solve. 11:10am - SUCCESS! I've uncovered the ledger underneath a pile of old mail order catalogs. Now I can begin the sticky mess of figuring out just how much I actually made last year. MATH! I do despise it!
But at least the book's been found. The EARRING hasn't turned up, however.
6:00pm - numbers are met and queued, organized and re-organized. As soon as all the other papers are in from the bank, etc, I'll be ready for the tax man. Whew!
Lunch at "Chevy's" - I was feeling out of sorts, and Laura was needing a few things, so we took the day off and went into the big city. (Well, outskirts of the big city) At Border's, I found "Street Songs" by the King's Singers, and Laura got a book on technical pen drawing. Then we went to "Chevy's", which is nearby. Two glasses of pink lemonade quenched my thirst. I ate delicately of the chips and salsa, instead of shoving them in with both hands. 'Twas good, for the amount of food was immense! I tore into a tasty chicken taco with great gusto. By the time I was one quarter into the beef enchilada, I was slowing down. And there still remained rice, chicken enchilada, chicken tamale, pinto beans and a muffin!!! I ate the sweet corn meal, took two bites of the muffin, finished the beef enchilada, and asked for a container for the rest. I couldn't bear to imagine the stomach stretching agony if I actually tried to eat all that!
I must be having some success with the diet, because in the past, I remember eating there, and finishing nearly all. Needing to be rolled out afterwards, but cleaning the plate fairly much.
