One down, eleven to go

I love not working on Fridays.  In fact, my favorite time of the week is Friday morning, when I know I can get up whenever I want.  But then the day invariably turns into some form of this:

So I'm trying to put a positive spin on it:

Roxie was right there with me, minus the cape.

Don't let the appearance of sunshine fool you -- the joy of having a thermometer that hangs in a sunny window is that we allowed ourselves to believe it was really over 50 degrees outside today, until we went to the grocery store and the jeep gave us the cold, hard truth:  7 degrees.  Ergo, the following did not actually happen:

Instead, we were more like this:

I told poodle I was NOT going to spend the entire day watching Ellen clips again (ahem) and my goal was to get to the end of the day and have something to show for it.  So I finished the next wreath installment, the one I have been wrestling with for over a week.

I've got a lot of brown to use up but I thought this needed a little something extra.  I also told myself I was going to paint something before the end of the month and although it may not be finished before midnight tonight (I've got an hour and a half), I am making progress:

I am, of course, at that crucial "I could wreck it at any time" phase, so I walked away for a bit.  STEP AWAY FROM THE PAINT!  Changing out of my favorite sweatshirt now and cracking open the black paint.  Fingers crossed.

I have graduated from Christmas music for my end-of-January soundtrack - yesterday and today have been primarily "In the Ever" by Mason Jennings, with bits of Mary-Chapin Carpenter mixed in.  However, I may or may not still have all three of my trees up - I'm not admitting to anything that may subject me to ridicule.  Actually, screw it.  Judge all you want.  I still have my trees up.  SO THERE!  I'm shooting for Valentine's Day.  Besides, I haven't had time.  I've been way too busy sitting quietly, wearing my cape, waiting for the grass to grow and wishing I were wrapped in bacon.

Incomprehensible

I have a confession to make.

There was a day last week when I spent an unquantifiable amount of time on the couch watching Ellen video clips.  All day and into the night.  It was absurd.  Roxie was banging her head against the wall in boredom.  I don't know what I was thinking.

There.  Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I've got this:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Indeed.

I've also got this:

Along those lines, I have yet to decide if my latest experiment is a keeper or just a mistake.  It is incomprehensible, for sure, yet not exactly full of deep significance.  Decide for yourself:

I like it, and yet I'm not sure if I like it.  It's good, yet it's bad.  Interesting, but also frightening.  And this is not my original attempt - I had to rip that one apart and start over - so keep in mind this is an improvement.

Fair warning - if I send this to you as a gift, it means I'm not sure if I like you or if I don't like you.  I'm conflicted.  Just sayin'

In conclusion:

Peace out.

Think Pink

For the past several years, for my birthday, Eletra has sent me a copy of something called "Year at a Glance for Gemini" from her We'Moon datebook.  This year for Christmas she sent me the whole darn book.  As I was flipping from Sunday, January 18th to Monday, January 19th, I skipped over a page with a long poem.  I told myself I would go back later and read it, but then thought, "Who am I kidding.  I won't remember to go back and read that."  So I stopped.  And I read.  And now you shall read too.

What Are We Waiting For?

I bet there are forests who miss me.  Who wish I were

a squirrel in their trees or a supposedly mythical mermaid

in their ponds.  I bet there are kisses who wish I were

in them too, because they like my technique.  I bet

there are sunrays looking for me even now, not yet knowing

I've gone indoors.  There may also be songs wishing I'd turn them

on, and others who wish I were already dancing to them.

I wonder if there are dresses that wish I were wearing them,

instead of someone else, or left hanging on a hanger.

I bet there are houses that wish I were living in them,

maybe houses that I'll one day move in and dance through,

but not yet, I haven't even yet visited their towns,

and the houses shift and groan their tree trunks and wonder,

Why do I have to wait?

Cuz they want me, see.  Cuz it'll be that good.

And so I ask my future and all my possibilities and all

my impossible perfect fantastical dreams to call for me LOUD,

light road flares, use spot lights, catch me with a stage hook

and reel me in, bring me close.  Because if I want you

and you want me, I tell my future, what are we waiting for?

It's only ellipsis dividing us.

Let us blow them away like breadcrumbs. . .

I love to long for my future, and I love when

my future longs for me.  It feels as good as dancing

to the most kickass song, when my body predicts beats and breaks

and rhythm changes, when it's all tight and suave, like all I've

been waiting for is right here, and I'm drinkin' it down easy.

And really, when life's like that, when I'm drunk on dreams

and slippery with time, nothing can hold me back, not rules or

logic, and beauty breaks all boundaries.  I burst through the seams,

racing my bike down the streets, free in the world:

this wildly improbable.

-- Dawn Sperber

"Cuz they want me, see.  Cuz it'll be that good."  Awesome.  "Because if I want you and you want me, I tell my future, what are we waiting for?"  Double awesome.  "Drunk on dreams."  That's it right there.  I'm going to paint that one.

Speaking of none of that, here's number two:

It is impossible to photograph these buggers without getting a zillion reflections of me.

I had the idea today to take some of these wreath photos and turn them into Christmas cards.  Just not sure a zillion reflections of me would add a festive air to a holiday card.  Oh but dang it, the light bulb just went off:  I should have taken these pictures while wearing my pink and white santa hat.  At least that reflection would have fit the color scheme.

Since the wall the wreath is hanging on is white, that last picture is the most accurate depiction of its true colors.  But I like the look of the warmer ones.  Especially the middle one.

I haven't even begun to make a dent in the ball stash, so next up is ... hmmm ... maybe the brown and red wreath I wanted to make two years ago.  But first -- we paint.  Drunk on dreams.

Bathroom Selfies

The other day poodle and I were over next door.  I was putting all the balls away, and she was playing with one of her babies.  We were live streaming the Turntable Review, which EVERYBODY should do whenever Joe and Terry are on air.  You can find the link right here.

Yeah that's an action shot.

She traded in the baby for santa.

Next thing I know, and I kid you not, Joe and Terry are covering Peaceful Easy Feeling, and JUST EXACTLY when they are singing, "... already standing on the ground" I looked over and saw this:

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Roxie did that.  Am I the only one who thinks it's funny?  I made her pose next to standing santa.

Good golly that cracks me up.

Anyway.  Moving on.  We went for a walk today wearing our new boots - mom got a good laugh out of it - and when we got home we did this:

And by "we" I mean not me.  What a dork.

And by "what a dork" I mean not me.

Anyway.  Moving on.  Mom wanted to see the creative genius involved in making an ornament wreath.  That's not exactly the way she worded it, but hey -- it's my blog.  I had to explain that a good part of the time involved is really me just staring at the thing, then walking away.  Gluing down one ball, then checking facebook.  It's truly an artform.  Here's the end result - the first wreath from the post-holiday on-sale-ornament-purchasing frenzy:

This is significantly smaller than the ones I made for Ann and Kathy; those were constructed on 16" forms, and this one is a 10" form.  I was testing to see if this smaller size would work.  And when I was taking my usual artsy photos --

-- I accidentally took a selfie:

Then I took a better one:

I look bald.  Bald in a ball.  A bald ball.

Have you ever wondered why so many people take selfies in the bathroom?  I wonder about that all the time.  And then I did it myself.  Damn, I'm so unoriginal....

Christmas explosion

So first we had this:

That was before I went to bed.  And when I got up the next morning:

I think I'd rather be in Montana shoveling three feet of snow.

But that was a couple of days ago.  Today, ...

Whoa.  Do you want to see what that looks like in my living room, added to what was already in there?  Of course you do.

Holy crudballs.  Looks like we are in the wreath business.  Let's see that from another angle:

One more time, because twice just wasn't enough:

In conclusion, this is how Roxie feels about the whole thing:

I agree, baby dog.  I have no words.