Sunday, June 3, 2007

Oh good, rain is coming



I say that not because I am a native Pacific Northwesterner, or because I'm tired of the beautiful early summer weather we've been having, but because the garden needs a really good rainwater soak, and I need to stay indoors and really get some work done.

There were these 15' high walls of windows at my middle school, mostly 7th & 8th grade, and they looked out over these rows of big maples, elms, a playground (before the parking lot went in) and rolling spots of sun-dappled grass to sit and have intense conversations with your best friend. It was in those classrooms that I realized what a window-gazer I am, perched two or three stories above the ground and looking out and away into the blue sky and canopy...I'm out of my body and hovering there in mid-air myself.
The rotation of the earth has its way with me and I have to be outside, that's all there is to it.

There's that feeling like I have piles of neglected algebra or geometry homework to do and Mr. Rolf is going to get all tight-lipped and stern with me.

Pa-shaw, it's only some laundry to fold, paperwork to finish, some dishes and vacuuming, the usual suspects. How can you toss your satin black cat off a pile of pink sheets fresh from the dryer when he looks so adorable nested in them? He always picks the pink ones, and all my sheets are cotton, so that's not it. Another photo op.

Update on the Noro Betty sweater: finished the front piece this morning, now just two short sleeves to whip up, then piece it together. My left index knuckles are going wonky with all of this tiny intense knitting, and moving that huge bookcase on Friday with 90lb Edina, the House of Vintage owner, sent my knuckles into walnut-sized. But. Must. Finish. Sweater. Then---I will allow the knitting to go on a summer hiatus, while I work on the button carding, jewelry making, sewing projects, sweater embellishing, and over-all turbo charged production of all things Groovy Rhubarb. and also painting. And writing. And more photography. Which reminds me---

Check out this new 'zine, called LAB. Many of the talent and references are Portland-PNW oriented, is it here in PDX? Not sure, but one of the contributors is an intern at Wieden-Kennedy ad agency, did work for Nike, and some logo work familiar to folks up this way. Doug Fir, for instance. I downloaded both released copies of this new 'zine and spent some time reading, marveling, and seeing into the future of print/web-based art. Guess that makes me a wanna-be, but I'm getting it started, and am certainly in the right town for this kinda thing. If you want to be amused and baffled and inspired, link to LAB. I found a page from Keri Smith's book, The Artist's Survival Guide, that radically cheered me up on a blue day and reminded me why you should never tell anyone what you're doing unless they also tend to bubble over and tell you all sorts of project ideas. Or your tractor will be up to your head gasket in swamp. Surely a metaphor everyone can understand.

Must press on, end in sight, stay strong.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love your blog Laura. LOVE IT!
Steven

Anonymous said...

oh that tractor and swamp thing...love that!