Sock Watch Photo

This is the first photo I have uploaded. It took me way too long to figure it out. The blogging software was easy, I just couldn't find the photo in my iPhoto library. I hope it gets easier.

The words we choose

One of the things I've been doing this morning instead of getting up and on the road to see my beloved aunt is reading a magazine, "Artful Blogging," which highlights and excerpts several artists' blogs. These are artists who work primarily in mixed media, doing altered art and collage. (The magazine is published by Stampington, a vendor of rubber stamps and a publishing kingdom for altered art and collage.)

I'm fascinated by the altered art and collage, mixed media movement. Rubber stamps give access to art and images for those who can't draw, as does collage, which has unleashed a torrent of creativity. There is a wide range of styles, and I can't tell you how many hours I have dawdled away browsing online and print, absorbing images, techniques, and discussion of this art/craft trend. (See my del.icio.us links. Click on the tags for collage and artblogs. I'm still working on making the page easier to use; bear with me.)

As in any visual art, there are pioneers, visionaries, a great many people who do cool stuff, and some uninspired followers. One of the few things that annoy me are the words people choose to use in their art and collage. It probably relates to the rubber stamp words that are available. The ones that sell, and so are created and kept in stock, are the ones you can guess: "Dream." "Dream big." "Delight." "Believe." "Take flight." There is also a fascination with French words and images which charmed at first but now has become tedious. I do get tired of all these relentlessly cheerful words. Here are my modest proposals for additional art-appropriate words:

run
uh-oh
boo-boo
slightly cynical
impertinent
whatever
awkward
jettison
luna
tuna
nap
blues

in keeping with the French themes that are so popular, I offer the following phrases from French I:

C'est vrai, c'est aujourd'hui Mercredi! (That's right, it's Wednesday!)

donne moi une coup de telephone (call me)

cherchez une livre (look for a book)

c'est moi (it's me)

and my favorite fruit,

pamplemousse
(that can't possibly be right; I'll look it up tomorrow, it's past bedtime) -- grapefruit

Escaping the Gravitational Field

It's so hard for me to escape the gravitational field of the house. Today I am going to visit Aunt Lucille in Park Rapids. Though I know it will be good, I always have trouble breaking from my home and the familiar to go someplace new.

If I weren't traveling this weekend I would be working today. But in this moment when I haven't yet committed to the countdown sequence of launching myself, there is a free space. Knowing I will travel has kept me from making the usual lengthy list of things I should do, so I don't have any other plans for today. Into this small mental free space flood a dozen longings to read, do art, write, work on projects, walk . . . not weed, or do housework, or any of the things I would really do if I were to stay home. It's a small free space, a rarity for any of us. A duty-free zone.

In truth I also drag my heels because for each trip there is at least one unpleasant task that must be done before one leaves. Usually it is bill paying or doing the dishes. Today my paycheck has been deposited, the library books have been returned, and I even have something in the house to eat on Sunday night. There is plenty of book and paper clutter that could be cleaned up, and vacuuming to be done, but the real show stoppers are emptying the kitty litter box, which has been left a little longer than usual this week, and cleaning my suitcase, into which Potamus has peed. I left it out after my last weekend away, just two weeks ago, and perhaps he sees it as a sign he's going to be home alone, which, as a very social cat, he doesn't like. Whatever the reason, I absolutely am not interested in attacking two depositories of cat pee before I go--but I must. So here I am, procrastinating.

And if it weren't that it would be something else.