Here I Am

One exam tomorrow-- (I'm back to school) before we leave on a jet plane so to speak- New Years Day to the land where palm trees sway.

Excited to look my fears in the face and soar above clouds and eat cruise food, and walk on oceans and say short farewell to Canada, long farewell to book-studying.

Book Life

Image from FFFFOUND

It's been a pretty exhausting but good week at the bookstore--training someone new, and receiving a million new books for fall. Going out to Karaoke tonight with some friends. Time for a drink but no singing for me.

I just took some photos of my backyard raccoon friends with my film camera. I'm hoping they do justice to the cuteness of those little teddybear faces.

Happy weekend to everyone, and especially happy Friday! 

Ripley Lamp

ripleylamp, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Friday.

dandelion

dandelion, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Wrinkles.

Undersea

undersea, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Make up for Tuesday, Aug. 10th.

Kingheart

kingheart, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Monday.

Dandelion Cat.

mycat, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Sunday's

raccoonandboy, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Raccoon and Boy. Watercolour pencils, ink.

Christoph Niemann

niemanncover, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Got this week's New Yorker in the mail yesterday. I'm in love with the cover -- "Dropped Call," by Christoph Niemann. He also does an excellent blog on the NYTimes http://niemann.blogs.nytimes.com/ Ch-check it.

Watercolourgirl

watercolourgirl, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Happy Friday!

What I Wore Today

whatiworetoday2, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Aug. 4th, 2010

Becoming a Sketchblog

Hello peeps,

Over the last 3-4 days I've been blitzing my flickr with drawings from my sketchbook. I want to actually follow through and have a real SKETCHBLOG though, because I think it's a better format etc. I'm going to really try to follow through this time, and that will be cool.

From Today:



Also: If anyone knows how to fix the flickr display settings so my photos don't get off and can advise me that would be awesome! Never mind, a new layout did the trick!

Things About Today

1. Started dance classes. Felt good at first, then slowly worse. Felt like an elephant in a tutu, even though there was no tutu. Felt like the fat kid who doesn't get picked, the person no one wants on their team. Felt like a fool. Going to try to do it again.

2. Applied for a Marriage Certificate.

3. Had a weird, melty drink from Second Cup. The lid came off when I was riding home. The half empty drink was in my bike basket and I kept getting splashed with residual whipped cream mixed with ice water.

4. Tried to convince Andre to move to a new apartment. Was easily persuaded to move on from that plan.

5. Tried to explain the merits and cuteness of Peggle.

6. Bought my friend lunch at McDonald's. Ate McDonald's.

7. Ended the day by eating the bologna sandwich I had carried around with me all day. Feeling ambivalent over possible food poisoning.

Keri Smith has changed her blog layout. http://www.kerismith.com/blog I couldn't find her How to Feel Miserable As An Artist on her site anymore. I found it referenced elsewhere. i.e. here I printed it out and am applying it to life in general, artist and not.

Camel

camel, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Inspired by Sean and Todd; the lost then found camels destined for the Bowmanville zoo.

Sinclair Ross

Sinclair Ross, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Photo from Dad's Lawn

Dad's lawn., originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Flickr test.

Cottage in the City.

film4, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

One of the eight decent (read salvageable) photos from my first film attempt. I was trying to learn to manual focus, adjust aperture etc. and next time might try the whole roll on autofocus to see how that works out.

One week til camping!

Monday

Problem:

No one makes a desk tall
enough for her short legs
and long back.

Perhaps they do make them,
that wouldn't be hard to believe.

But what good is it if no one
uses such a desk?

In what classroom, office or
library can she find and use
such a thing?

Instead she'll sit hunchbacked,
over her work desk or
slouched down in her chair--
lower back concave,

trying to
concentrate.

Hi. It's Me.

I'll
bake your
bread.

Thinking 'bout

Routine v. Ritual

At the ROM

Watched the Free Palestine protest.
I stood and watched from atop my bicycle
and was surprised by the small and shrill female voice coming
through the amplifier.

There were flags waving and a rallying cry
but also this huge calm,
at least I felt it.

The loud voices caught something inside me.
I felt a sway and wondered what tragedies went
unnoticed today.

MAY

Summer here,
there was a bomb in her head.

The Artiste

She showed off what she'd done then
but she didn't want correction.
She didn't want to be corrected at all.

She pressed her fingers to the strings to make sounds
but she didn't want to hear it
and she didn't want a callous to form there.

She didn't want any mark to be made
permanent or impermanent.

Last Night a Bug Flew In

Image Paper Tiger by *contraomnes on deviantART via ffffound.com

Last night a bug flew in, a beetle
and it was buzzing around our window sounding
just like a kazoo.

The lights were off but we couldn't ignore it.
Andre got out of bed to have a look at the thing. "A June bug"
I said. But it was something else.

The unknown in an insect is never a good thing and Andre immediately identified teeth
and a stinger. The word stinger should never be uttered anywhere
near bed and blanket.

At that moment our cat Mowat piped in.
It was almost a chirp, the sound he made,
with his tail twitching like a windup toy.

Andre soon knocked the thing to the carpet,
and now both our cats were circling it. Patting it with their paws,
gently bludgeoning.

Mowat attempted eating it but spit it out in a hurry.
"It bit him!" yelled Andre
and he acted out the chomping of the insects' jaws.

I imagined now that some sort of mini-winged-rhinoceros
had made its way into our bedroom;
such a frightful thing.

And when Andre got the oven mitts I was glad.
Gladder still when he tossed it out the window
and explained consolingly to the cats they couldn't hunt it anymore,
it was gone.

Dish Debt

Image from ffffound

Doing the dishes is like paying my credit card bill;
I have to do it incrementally.

If I have breakfast this morning then
that's a debit.

One spoon, one bowl, one knife,
one cup.

I'd like to make a dent in debits owed so I'll wash
this morning's breakfast away and also the teapot
from Monday evening and just the lid from Tuesday's
spaghetti pot.

My debt is payed in lavender dish soap, time-served and the number of prune-like
wrinkles on my fingers.

geithner

geithner, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Drawing from a photo in the Globe and Mail Report on Business, Mar. 25th, 2009. I like to follow American politics and draw politicians, apparently.

elephant

elephant, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

I've been wanting to update my sketches for a while as an impetus for drawing daily and am starting with something really old for some reason. I really need to know how my sketch journal heros Jillian Tamaki and Lauren Nassef upload such pretty images with no smudge marks. Is it just the curse of lefthandedness that causes them? (I actually love being a lefty and in no way think it is a curse.)

Red Doll Illo

Red Doll Illo, originally uploaded by _stringsong.

Had fun doing something creative tonight. The first thing I could think to draw was a doll. I love drawing faces.

Was getting all inspired by Sonja Ahlers and now I want to collage up the world.

Cam Mera

A few weeks ago I took the time to open this old camera bag that we've moved to three apartments in the last two years, which contained- I thought; an old and broken camera. But instead voila! there was a fully working and pretty Canon 1000FN film camera. I am a know-nothing when it comes to photography, absolutely. And taking photos that are anything but point and click, digital and disposal causes mountains of anxiety in me. BUT - I went and bought film and battery and now am happily clicking away. I have no idea what will come if it, but maybe something presentable and even interesting. I'm excited for it. Stay tuned.

Rainy Ol' Saturday

Heading to TCAF a bit later, but first returning to Wychwood barns to buy sweet little tomato plants, all yellow-flower-covered, ready to be pollinated. We're doing our community garden plot again and need to re-experience the tomato-y glory of last summer.

Good day for cuddling cats.

World.

Beautiful Saturday with Andre, back to bike riding, his bike now being fixed.

Last night got to try new bikes at home: a Peugeot, way too tall. Strained back, leg. Woke up this morning thinking brunch, and meat. Caplansky's college street, Kensington Market. Tins that eat each other. Courage My Love. Good day for a Sunburn.

Free Comic Book Day, not so stellar. Not good for indies. Home up one-ways, back to birdfest at home. Shade and sun and cats on screen doors. Leaning and scratching.

glad.stone.

Kitchen Grilling

The other day I was in our kitchen grilling and had the screen door open to let the fumes out. And then I was kneeling to look out of the open screen part without the sun in my eyes, and I noticed the movement of a large grey racoon. He was lumbering like a red panda but also not unlike my cat, the one with the squirrel tail. I watched this fellow as he lumbered across the large garage roof and shimmied down the side of it to lift- I'd seen him do this before- to lift open the heavy lid of one of Toronto's standard issue garbage receptacles. I called Andre into the room, and we watched as he used his small white hands to lift the clamshell lid over himself and then sniffed at the white-bagged garbage within, but there was nothing delicious there. So then he moved on to the shorter, stouter green bin- the lid of which popped open like a present. It was full of delicious things; forgotten leftovers, food scraps and coffee grinds. We watched him do this, and pictured these things suddenly strewn across the asphalt, and Andre yelled "Hey!" so that the racoon stopped to look up. Then Andre stomped his feet so that it wandered over to the grass and reluctantly left us, behaving not unlike Lot's wife and looking over its shoulder.

The Reasons

When your neighbour does not say hi to you:

Why is that?

Maybe they are shy.

Maybe they are nervous.

Maybe they want to enjoy their cigarette.

Maybe they are watching you

and noticing the way you

do not lock the door to your belongings.

Maybe they are villainously unkind.

Maybe they were waiting

for you to say it first.

Two doors slam.

Wednesday Thursday

Red hair, green shirt day two.

Starting with egg, cheese, bread, meat.

The truth is:

There's no use in longing. Both ugliness and beauty mean nothing.

Silly Ol' Poems

Mean-spirited millet maker in
the kitchen stirring
the pot, spitting fire
spitting fits
of rage over events
of ten years ago
feeding her family on
ten years worth of grief and bad
left over feelings
she can't quite come to grips with.
In her mean spiritedness
Millie millet maker
gripes over the short falls of others
and how she's done
them wrong.

The Possessed

Since my husband Andre is taking Russian Literature and Russian Language (I'll call it 101) right now, I have a not quite insider's but sort of inner outsider's view of the crazy and marvelous world of "Russian books and the people who read them;" that being the subtitle of the excellent book "The Possessed" by Elif Batuman named for the story by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

One of the essays included in this collection was first printed in Harpers Magazine and Andre read it then; drawn in by the provocative question posed by the title "Who Killed Tolstoy?" The fact that one of his former Russian lit profs was a character in the essay only compounded his interest. For whatever reason, at the time I had ZERO interest in reading this essay.

When it was published in this collection and arrived at our bookstore though, I was immediately drawn in by the cartoon cover. (What? I like cartoon anything apparently.) And then within seconds of turning the page became completely captivated (captured) by the writing. This book is often hilarious, tongue-in cheek, and full of many interesting factoids, asides and straight-up gossip about the Russian writers we know and love and the surprisingly zany people devoted to studying them.

The following is an excerpt recounting an exchange between Isaac Babel's daughter Nathalie and Janet Lind; one of the organizers of a conference centred on her father's works:

"JANET," Nathalie said finally, in her fathomless voice. "IS IT TRUE THAT YOU DESPISE ME?"

Janet Lind turned to her calmly. "I beg your pardon?"

"IS IT TRUE THAT YOU DESPISE ME?"

"I can't imagine what makes you say that."

"I say it because I would like to know if it is true THAT YOU DESPISE ME."

"That is an extremely odd question. What gives you an idea like that?"

"I just think you were told that I'm a NASTY OLD WITCH."

"This is really extremely odd. Did someone say something to you?" Lind frowned slightly. "You and I have barely had any interactions."

"Even so, I had the impression- that you DESPISE ME."

This conversation continued for longer than one would have thought possible , given how clear it was that Janet Lind, for whatever reason, was just not going to tell Nathalie Babel that she did not despise her. Looking from Lind to Babel, I was struck by the nontrivial truth behind the Smiths song "Some girls are bigger than others."

After reading this book I've become obsessed with checking for updates on Elif Batuman's blog because I need a constant fix of her prose from now on.

Little Mac

They lived in a glass house lit up from inside with the filaments burning. Window coverings were flimsy and insubstantial; the light always got out in spite of them. It was carpeted in mauve in what looked like popcorn, and one could hear crunching under foot with every step taken towards the threshold of the first doorway, down the stairs of which one could find a large room this time carpeted in electric puddles; it was quite intricate really. Not what you would expect actually, from the outside looking in. The main problem in the glass house was that somehow all the light was constantly escaping, and the interior burned like a furnace and buzzed like a bee. It became difficult for living, was actually not life-supporting at all. It was like a planet too close to its own sun. The inhabitants would often need to flee out of doors. The glass was quite high up- suspended, and descent was facilitated only by holding onto and sliding down one of several ropes and ribbons which hung from it, giving the appearance of an airborne jellyfish.

She would often imagine a life set somewhere else. In something called Little Mac the name of a house her grandparents had lived in. It may have been the name of the house or the name of the street, regardless it sat in her mind quite solidly. It had no questions of itself, Little Mac. It was cute and small and made of bricks, planted firmly in earth with an even number of rooms; 4 or 6 or 8. It didn't matter which. Little Mac would have gardens and sensible window coverings. If she could get there, then Little Mac would be real and the glass house would be fantasy.

Depths

Let's be someone and try to figure it out.

Opera Like That

On Sunday, we went to see Otello performed by the Canadian Opera Company. And then someone died, and then someone else died. I think they call that a tragedy.

Insects fly, read.

The first books I can remember hearing true buzz about- The way I selected books to read back then was chiefly the pitch of their buzz.

1. Catcher in the rye,
   
2. Life of pi

My older and cooler cousin recommended Catcher in the Rye. I remember being unmoved by it, and shocked by all the swears! Number and severity of swears in literature was only going to increase exponentially the more I read and the older I got. C'est la vie. I liked it, because I thought I should like it. Nevertheless I was happy to be introduced to J.D. Salinger then, because I went on to read Franny and Zooey which I actually connected with at the time and still do.

Life of Pi; a former teacher was reading with her book club. I didn't pick up on any media hype, didn't know about the Booker Prize etc. Just a word of mouth pick - I also really liked the cover; bright red with a tiger's face. Then I liked that it was partially set in Toronto (Scarborough), then the questions it tackled, then the narration etc. etc. Yann Martel finally has a follow-up coming out; Beatrice and Virgil. Despite publishers' attempts to market it as "shocking" I'm really looking forward to it. I'm excited to see what he's been up to.