my beautiful people and a lot of great links

my beautiful people, i haven't shared them with you for awhile.

sabin's fancy hair colors even look cool when they're up in a bun.

and husband, despite needing a haircut (he's had one since), just gets cuter all the time.

how come the same isn't true for me?

that's kinda not fair.

* * *

the entrant from denmark won the eurovision song contest the other night.

happily, i wasn't watching, even tho' i do enjoy me a bit of kitsch on occasion.

it was best to learn of it through facebook updates.

and i did read a bit of the guardian's live blog of the proceedings.
that was pretty hilarious.

best quote from that came during the waiting for the votes bit:

"I'm not saying that this bit is long, but I think I just saw time detach from itself and form a spiral and slowly disappear into the universe."

i kinda like when time does that.

* * *

*sigh* - 1913 was just really my year.

i can't even imagine an intellectual avant garde art scandal happening today, can you?

* * *

still enjoying that article about whether you have to like the characters in a novel. 

mostly because of quotes like this:

I hate the concept of likeability—it gave us two terms of George Bush, whom a plurality of voters wanted to have a beer with, and Facebook. You’d unfriend a lot of people if you knew them as intimately and unsparingly as a good novel would. But not the ones you actually love. 
--Jonathan Franzen

* * *

this makes me want to draw some maps. maps of me. maps of things i love. maps of life.

* * *

ever wonder where those bloody swear words come from?

personally, i think we should bring nackle-ass back into fashion.

topography of a life

i'm fascinated by maps. on pinterest, i have a board called topographies, that's full of interesting and inspiring art people have made of maps. but maps are art in and of themselves. they are a representation of a place, not a duplication - a map can never truly capture all that is about a place (borges knew this). they remain but an incomplete illusion. i think it's what makes art featuring maps so fascinating.

just as it's impossible for a map to truly represent a place, it's completely impossible to fully blog a life. for one, no one would want to read it, for another, it's simply impossible to put words to it all. that, of course, doesn't stop people from trying. there are those who blog their breakfast or nightly dinners and then publish books of the photos, in case you missed one of those prosaic shots. there are people who take a photo at the same time every day (or was that just a plot device in a midsomer murder?). or people who simply take a photo every day (i read about a guy who did that for like 30 years).

me, my life and my blog, are all over the place - sometimes it's a craft blog, sometimes a travelogue, sometimes it's about perfume, or raising a child, or living in self-chosen exile, occasionally it's even about politics. but mostly, i blog to think things through, work them out and make sense of the world around me. and it feels pretty real to me. but you can never truly convey what it's all like (especially not the bits inside your head). you can only sketch the outlines. map the topographies of a life, if you will.

i don't share everything, but i do think that because of the immediate kind of person that i am, how i'm feeling is pretty obvious - good and bad. of course there are things i don't blog "out loud" - because they might hurt someone or burn a bridge or get someone (usually me) in trouble (the tales i could tell you of several big corporations would make your toes curl). i also don't blog every worry i have, because to an extent, i want this to be a mostly positive space. but i do blog about those things on my secret blog, because blogging is how i think. or rather, writing is how i think, and blogging is my medium of choice. there's something about that little blogger compose window that just gets the words flowing. and the impossible mapping of a life continues.

what if...

...someone made an IQ atlas of the world?

would we like the results? would we want to know? would our fears be confirmed? or would we be amazed? is ignorance really bliss?

i'm imagining one in my brain and it actually looks quite beautiful.

daily art journal: march

this month, the details are on flickr, so click each picture below if you want to know more.

1. daily art journal for march, 2. march 1-2, 3. curiosity bird detail, 4. march 3-4, 5. march 5-6, 6. march 7-8, 7. march 9-10, 8. march 11-12, 9. march 13-14, 10. march 15-16, 11. march 17-18, 12. march 19-20, 13. march 21-22, 14. detail - march 22, 15. march 23-24, 16. march 25-26, 17. march 27-28, 18. march 29-30, 19. march 31, 20. daily art journal for march

i'll admit the project grew more difficult in march and i fell behind, sometimes by a week at a time. i could definitely feel the effects of house- and job-hunting this month. it ended up both good and bad. good in that i had room for more two-page spreads, which i felt gave me greater flexibility on some of the pieces and some of the thinking it helped me do. bad in that i didn't get the daily creative practice that i embarked on this project to have. but april is a another month and i'm back on track. well. almost anyway. but i blame husband because he said yesterday was only the 2nd and it was actually the 3rd.

recurring themes - maps and eyes continue to crop up again and again. i'm beginning to see that come out when i look back at previous months. in any case, it's an interesting project and i'm starting to see a glimmer of where it's taking me.

when i can't sleep

i'm thinking of topographies. maps. cosmologies. is it possible to map a life? to create a topography? is that what blogging is? or is becoming? a topography of a life? is it even possible to come close to even a faint outline of a life? can you preserve the topography of a life in cloth? felt? stitches? fibers? are we able to read the map of that life even if the person who created it and left it behind is gone? do the memories and even more so, the meaning remain and can it be read? do they penetrate the fibers and can we access them? can i make a topography of sabin's baby and toddler life using the clothes she wore then? and will it retain its meaning for years to come? these are the things i'm pondering when i can't sleep at 4 a.m.

what do you ponder when you can't sleep?

today's story people story of the day is so appropriate for this post.

too cool not to share

found a great site called radical cartography (it was pointed out in a weekly newsletter by the fabulous people at apartment therapy). if you love maps of all kinds even a little bit, you've got to go check it out.

here's a teaser...with north america superimposed on europe, just to give you an idea of relative size:

thinking and hyperlinks

as we've seen already this week, my mind works very strangely. i can go from a simple teapot to early soviet film in one post. and even (more or less) explain how i got there. and because i just finished malcolm gladwell's blink, i've been pondering thought processes in general.

consider the following series of pictures:

our brains are processing stuff in the background all the time. as an example: i tried to consciously note all of the things that went through my mind as i just went downstairs to pour another cup of tea--a simple and rather automatic act. along the way, i noted that one of the pictures in the stairway was a bit crooked and thought about how they get that way all the time because they're in such a high traffic area. i flashed also for a moment on the ruin of pergamon that was IN the picture and smiled as i remembered the heat and sunshine and how i was wearing white linen and sabin a sundress that day. as i stirred my tea, i looked at the skinny laminx cloth napkin that was sitting on the countertop with a sprig of evergreen still laying on it and one of my precious resurrection fern crocheted stones. which led me to think of the set of my own stones that i sent to margie yesterday. that in turn made me think of some of the stones upstairs in a dark corner of the bookshelves and i wondered if i should have included any of them. i went up, cup of tea in hand and looked at the stones and saw a shard of ceramic with numbers on it that i found on the old base in subic and i remembered the little bottle of sea glass gathered on a beach near there in the philippines. which made me think about how the treasured and revered sea glass is really trash that some jerk has thrown into the ocean in the form of glass bottles which then break and tumble in the waves until they are smooth, pretty pieces of tumbled glass that wash up on shore and which people actually sell on etsy. which made me think of my list and how i need to just get my eyeball pillows up on etsy already.

it has taken me nearly an hour to write and gather pictures for the above (while doing laundry and lighting two fireplaces and a dozen other tasks), but the whole chain of thoughts probably took under 30 seconds in reality. because our minds are fast. they link things and make connections. i've been thinking for awhile about hyperlinks and whether they map this thought process and reflect it. and that's part of why i set all the hyperlinks above.

of course the whole concept of hyperlinks is manmade, so it no doubt reflects something of a human thought process, since it is born of it. (why am i always getting myself into chicken and egg circles?) but is it an example of that sense i get of the internet as taking on kind of life of its own--evolving us (and perhaps itself) to the next level? or is it just a topography of thought insofar as thought can at all be mapped? how many thoughts did i actually have along the way during those 30 seconds that i didn't catch hold of, that couldn't be mapped? would my topography simply have blanks, or would i be able to fill them in if i could tune in to that unconscious level?

that's some heavy pondering for a thursday and i'm definitely not done thinking about it. how about you?