something to do with my hands

I’ve begun learning how to embroider.

Lately I haven’t been feeling well, so I needed something to do while resting. And while not sleeping at night. For the time being, it’s mostly experimentation and practice. I like that I have to sit with a line for a while, yet it feels loose and unassuming. Writing and drawing has been too intimidating lately. It has to mean too much, and I just can’t deal with that right now. Stitching. Stitching feels appropriate.

these days

… We’re moving.
… The rabbit died in his sleep.
… It seems that I talk a lot in my sleep.
… Very little painting or drawing. Despite dead bird in freezer.
… Feeling disconnected from people (again).
… Can’t wait for my hair to get longer.
Cooking often.
… Wet. And chillier than you’d expect.
… The Farmer’s Market (fingers crossed for + vegan doughnuts & – store bought produce).
… Found a good cheap wine that I like.
… Wanting to go camping. All the time.
Warrior Dash.
… Looking forward to picking up old starts, like building screens for screenprinting, carving stamps and small prints, book-making, and the website.
… Really feeling Monica Canilao‘s work. I might be able to approach mixed media collage again.
… Also happily introduced to Unica Zurn.
… Strong idea for a show. Work to follow.


In order to photograph my work and for whatever other purposes it ends up serving, Husband bought a camera for me. A Very Nice Camera. The kind of camera you hold like a child, that you need to be aware of at all times. For those who understand camera language, it is a Nikon D3000 with 18-55 mm f/3.5-5.8G VR lens. I am learning what all of that means.

Although I’ve only taken a handful of photography classes, mostly in high school, photography has always been really important to my process. I take a lot of pictures. I also save pictures that I find online, take film stills, and surround myself with these images. So this is really exciting to me. In case you don’t believe me, here’s a shit load of test shots:

Meanwhile, I am also working on my website. And making messes I can’t clean up.

He says I look like a ninja now

Last night I moved like a ninja while someone chased me, I think it was a man. The woman who was supposed to kill me decided not to kill me after all, and we faked my death. But this man discovered that I was still alive and started hunting me again.

I was afraid of the water, as always, but I would climb out of windows and safely maneuver down to the ground. During waking hours, I am not so certain of my balance and strength. It’s tempting, though.

One of these days, I will take pictures of the work in my sketchbook and developing in my paintings. In the meantime, here are some things I have found somehow or other:


sparkle tight toot-toot

Images from Tumblr that are sadly not credited. (Not my doing. They came to me that way.) If you know who I should attribute these images to, please let me know.

I am still really interested in gems, diamonds, stones, and sparkly things. My last batch of work did not curb stomp the little buggers out of me. I just replaced my eyeballs with rubies and my jaw with a gold necklace of emerald and diamonds and pearls and tiger eyes and amethyst. It’s an odd look, I must admit.

I’ve always been interested in prostitutes, so that should be no surprise at all.

Flickr & insomnia

More trouble sleeping.

So I found some things.

Sig. Usignolo mi ha detto che sarei una madre cattiva
Wounded Dove, Brussels 2010
Bridesmaid and two flowergirls enter the church, St. Marks, Darling Point, c. 1930s by Sam Hood
they adore each other

Three Sisters VI
Three Sisters IV

self portraits

This wasn’t a terrible way to spend my time, but I think next time I will force myself into the studio. I have so many things waiting to be finished. Or waiting to be started.

Hiroshi Sugimoto

I had a dream not too long ago that I was performing on a stage for a handful of men and one woman. Over the course of my performance, I became more and more changed – seaweed, barnacles, shells, crabs, octopus. They were all over me. Most of the men didn’t seem to see it. Or I assumed they didn’t because they were still interested, giving me That Look. (But maybe they did. And maybe that’s why?) One of the men tried to intervene. I stood on stage after the performance, dripping sea water onto the hardwood stage, spot lite still on me. I watched him argue with the others.

I’m not off the hook either.