the globs. cd releasing. in all their glory

glowing lollipops! giant, inflatable balls! duct tape dresses and suits! giant puppets! it's not a night at the circus, but The Globs' cd release gig at Harper's Ferry October 14. spectacular, spectacular, indeed.

happy to be alive. by marie.

reflections in the bar casino tv thing at harper's ferry in brighton. if you look verrrry carefully you'll see me next to the pool table. by marie.

unraveling

i've noticed something... whenever i write down a goal, project, something-i'd-like-to-try thingamajig in here, i tend to get it done... or at least attempt to get it done.

i've had a sew/craft/art idea rummaging around in my head for weeks now, and i'm hoping this theory will work. because it sucks not being in a creative rut, but being in a doing rut. procrastination, once again.

last night, m and i spent a significant amount of time boning up on our flash expertise. sitting in front of a computer for hours, playing with all the tools, we started to vegetable-ize. it became necessary to put in the witches of eastwick. halloween is coming, after all.

speaking of which, what am i going to be for halloween? creative juices, start working. now. do it.

the photo above is of a sweater that i borrowed from my mom's discard pile. the hearts are unraveling, but i still love it.

delicious samosas, horrid photo

well, since i'm about to eat this ridiculously tasty treat, i figured i'd photograph it for posterity... however, my computer sucks photography-wise. it just wasn't meant to go there, for quality, i mean.

anyway, i made samosas this weekend for a party, and decided to recreate the magic last night for m. and i to indulge in for ourselves. (plus I had leftover ingredients...).

Anyway, here's my wanky samosa recipe directions. I tend to eyeball it a lot, but I'll try my best:

fillo dough (keep refrigerated until ready to use)
1 cup peas (I used frozen organic ones)
1 carrot, chopped finely
2 small potatoes, boiled until soft
1/2 onion (or more, depending on how onion-y you like it)
1 section of garlic, minced (is it a clove?)
1 cup chopped cilantro
a little fresh ginger, chopped
juice of half of a lime
spices to dash in: paprika, cumin, pepper, salt, curry, cinnamon

boil the potatoes until soft, meanwhile sauté the onions and garlic on a medium heat (add some water to not burn the garlic). add the carrots, peas, cilantro, and ginger. add the potatoes. put into a bowl, and let cool while you ready your "fillo dough filling station."

pre-heat oven to 425.
put some olive oil in a bowl, and ready a brush, or a teaspoon (I use the back of the spoon to spread the olive oil onto the fillo dough). ready a nonstick baking pan, or grease.
open the fillo dough package, and select two sheets together. (you can cut them in half, length wise, or fold in half to get the right size. I'm definitely not an expert, it's just my way of getting that really delicate fillo dough to stay together).
Put a tablespoons-worth of filling on one end, then fold the dough back and forth, into a triangle. (like folding a flag for all you boyscouts out there). seal the end with some olive oil.
put on the pan, and repeat with the rest of the filling.

bake the samosas for 15 minutes, or until brown.
then eat.

at work, rest, or play

for those hearty woodsmen (or, ehem, women), don't forget to pick up your milky way bar! oh, the good old days, when after a long day of white water rafting you build a fire and sink your teeth into a nice candy bar. delish!

** check out the covert use of a (gasp!) real milky way used as a prop... the extra tug needed to extract both sides, with that nougat and caramel center.

from the art

William Cordova, "Wholesellers, Retailers & Bullshitters" (detail), 2005. Ink, graphite, gold leaf on paper.

It's been a while since I last mentioned the ICA, and how much fun I have there, but here's another great time to broach the subject once again: Street Level presents recent work by three promising artists whose works draw directly from street culture: Mark Bradford (Los Angeles), William Cordova (Lima, Miami, New York) and Robin Rhode (Cape Town, Johannesburg, Berlin). And it's up through October 19. Guess what? It's still May. But don't think, well hey, I have time, because I always do that, and then frick, it's November and you've wasted a perfectly good art exhibit. Again.

Robin Rhode, Still from "Untitled, Harvest," 2005. Digital animation.

So, you heard it here first. I've made a solemn vow (ooh, I might regret this!) to go to the ICA. so there. and have a great tuesday.


Mark Bradford, "Spinning Man" (detail), 2007. Mixed media collage on canvas.

only a few more days

to see the BU mfa art exhibit. and it's free. plus there are paintings of naked women, which supposedly is revolutionary. I guess the TV reporters never heard of this work of art. i heard it also caused quite a stir in its day...



The MFA Student Exhibitions 2008 runs through May 4. The MFA Graphic Design Exhibition is at the BU Art Gallery at the Stone Gallery, 855 Commonwealth Ave, Boston, MA. The MFA Painting and Sculpture Exhibition is at the 808 Gallery, 808 Commonwealth Ave. The MFA/BFA Art Education and Studio Teaching Exhibition is at the Commonwealth Gallery, 855 Commonwealth Ave.

the globs

take a listen to the globs, here at their good old MySpace page. My favorite is "I Hate the 21st Century," but Marie is partial to "Happy 2 B Alive." They have this poppy keyboarding flair, but seeing them at the Middle East last night definitely solidified their rock-a-bility (not to be confused with rockabilly. *sigh).

this was the second trip to the M.E. within three days, since we met up with Marie's friend Mandy there on Friday night, ate some middle eastern food, and drank sam adams summer ale (I liked it, but Marie is a dark-beer kinda girl). there were swarms of lesbians there (ehem, kristin) otherwise known as 'faaamleee' thanks to my former coworker ms. tammy.

last night's trip was a bit unexpected, since we haven't been out to see a friend's band in a while... our friend, linda, is the bassist and she was fabulous — but of course, she didn't think so, which is an annoying musician thing they do (I'm allowed to say that since I've done it many a time... a minor temper tantrum in the choir room after a particularly heinous cello performance at church in sixth grade will bring a slight cringe to my dad's face every time... all he said was, "you did a great job," poor man).

anyway, two thumbs up from the peanut gallery.

jump

flexibility. the tool of youthfulness... sitting on trains for hours this week made me realize that without flexibility stiff joints, and pain made me feel older than I am. And perhaps being flexible wasn't just about physical age. I think it's something that I struggle with mentally/emotionally is adjusting fluidly to change. Not falling into a stagnant (un)growing time. But, being flexible doesn't mean being unfeeling, or glossing over emotions haphazardly. It's a form of adaptation -- opening your arms, stretching your toes, feeling the tendons, muscles, nerves react. It's not painless, but it seemed to me it was more painful coming out of stasis than continually stretching.

see through

::Surrounded by Water at BUAG ::

down down down to the tips of my toes you'll find... paint! frickin' everywhere. it has slithered like some slithy tove under my fingernails, on my elbows and atop me head. marie believes my hair looks quite nice the color of "spa." I can't wait until we turn on venture violet, or jardin. someday, i'll be a paint namer... much the same training as crayola crayon color namer. anyway, we're attacking the spackled past recognition walls (?) and ceilings in our new apartment. we decided this was the best thing to do after a long luscious weekend in providence with friends.

it's decidedly domestic, considering the rest of the time was spent viewing burlesque, persepolis, a play on sally mann, and a sex workers art show. love it.

square

Uniform Studio Journal...
:: I started making these little swatch cards to keep track of the fabrics I have. Each one is marked on the back with tape listing the quantity and width of the bolt. I’ll use these at the show to keep track of how many items can be ordered from each fabric. I really like seeing all of the different colors and textures together.::

re: kristin's writers strike post-tv addiction

::not my house. duh::

somehow i feel inspired by kristin's blog, yesterday, "The Strike Rocks My World," wherein she finds she can now tear herself away from the small screen and enjoy the other fruits of living...

here are mine:
1. going out to dinner any time of night you want
2. laundry at the spanish laundromat, complete with awesome music to fold by
3. sewing/painting/getting my artsy side on
4. talking on the phone to friends far and wide
5. playing games
6. i second the movie outing
7. walking the pupster
8. planning out our new apartment

new apartment? well, really it's just the two floors above the one we're living in now. yes, you heard right. somehow our little hideway got sectioned off by the apartment gods into a studio (?!) and a two-floor taj mahal. so we're moving on up in a couple of months and the thought of a) actually having room to breath/work/relax and b) not having to rent a u-haul are making me ecstatic! oh and you can probably cross off number 2 up there because we'll actually have a frickin' washer and dryer. oh happy day.

time to figure out paint colors. i love it.

busy bee

waking up, I feel like I'm hit with the unending lists of things to do/see/be hovering in the recesses of my brain. that's why I love the bubble-y chart that won craziest list on www.todolistblog.com. in order to properly function, i need to make lists... organize those jumbled bits of thought into a coherent pattern that can be crossed off, and added to. i think it's inherited from the doodle genes that came from my mom... but if it's not written down, it probably won't get taken care of, especially if my brain is focused elsewhere (is it ever NOT focused elsewhere?) and if the task is especially harsh (mailing bills or something).

anyway, here's a to-do list for today:
1. do interview
2. write story (asap!)
3. pick photos for slideshow
4. put away laundry
5. decide on dinner... yum
6. make sure web site works. really works. not kidding.
7. check others' stories
8. decide where to go when i can finally take a vacation.
9. edit audio
10. play with puppy (note: move to top)

that's not it (it never is) but it's a start! have a splendid day...

by any other name?

Poverty Jet Set: (page 6)

A group of people given to chronic traveling at the expense of long-term job stability or a permanent residence. Tend to have doomed and extremely expensive phone call relationships with people names Serge or Ilyana. Tend to discuss frequent-flyer programs at parties.


—Douglas Coupland's Generation X

Even though I'm not technically in the realm of generation x-ers, I think this is still pretty pertinent... thought I'd share the meaning behind my choice of url. AND because today is my friend Natalie's birthday and she read this awesome tome with me in college during our even awesome post-apocalyptic literature course. Where we also watched, coincidentally, Red Dawn.

laisse tombe les filles

some sixties vibes from France Gall to get you over humpday...

p.s. don't let the Munster-like intro turn you off... on the other hand, if you're as big of a fan of the Munsters as I am, go ahead, compare away!

one more reason...

::Lucy In the Field With Flowers::
Oil on canvas by Unknown
24" x 30"
Acquired from trash in Boston

...to love Boston. MOBA — the Museum of Bad Art. This place is on my wish list of visitations here in the greater beantown area. And the whole idea of the museum reminds me of a documentary we saw a month ago — My Kid Could Paint That — about the debacle surrounding 4-year-old Marla Olmsted. The doc not only addressed whether or not Marla could actually paint the works displayed under her name, but if what she was said to have created was actually ART. love it. love it. Personally, I'm not here to judge Marla (she's got enough to worry about) or art (plenty of awesome books/magazines/critics to do that). But it is interesting to jump into the whole debate and throw some opinions around.

For example, I recently got into a heated debate about when someone can be defined as an 'artist.' We had to actually call up a third party to ask their thoughts. This third party put in her two cents on putting it at, 'when a person creates art, they are an artist.' This same third party just told me two weekends ago that (and I quote), "Painting is dead." Which leads me to believe getting your MFA in New York is potentially hazardous to your health. Proceed with caution.
(*disclaimer: I've also known several others to get their mfa's in new york who've turned out fairly normal... of course it took a moment or two for them to snap out of their pretentious fog... it happens, I guess).

bambino

and here he is, sent all the way from baltimore, evey's baby boy.
what a doll! can't wait to meet him.

blurring the lines

::dancers::

I enjoy watching a project unfold/develop. Seeing a mismatched bunch of steps become a collaboration of movement. Trying to think of my own projects and find the ultimate unblocker: motivation.

pillow

it's a little lumpy, but here's a pillow I made for marie this summer. It includes two of her favorite things -- purple and circles. Oh and believe me, the symbolic reasons behind both are deep and long winded. Actually, I loved the colors together, and had fun with fabric paint. This was during the summer when I had more downtime than I needed... now, of course, I wish I had more!

Here's a detail:

mismatch

before moving back north, I had big bouts of downtime at my last job... hence hand sewing this pillow together at my desk during breaks. I have to say, initially I wanted things to line up (maybe to justify some sort of quilting law...) but then I decided I didn't want to have straight lines and angles. I don't generally enjoy my sewing to be too 'perfect,' which may be why I've balked from the quilt marie's grandmother assigned. sewing homework=ridiculous.

this is one of a few things I've sewn and not immediately given away. which reminds me, christmas is coming...

bed

::Athens:: From Bed Series, 2003 by Jessica Levey

"... When we journey alone together through the wild country
of the soul, and I envy your greater courage, which looks solid
as mahogany, or your agile heart, softly flaming like pearl,
remind me of the child too small to peer over snowbanks,
who sailed mythic seas, and hand-crafted worlds..."

From "How the Poet Got Her Stripes," by Diane Ackerman