I dreamt my hair was much lighter and permed and I was applying gobs of magenta-purple lipgloss/lipstick. (I remember I had some lipgloss like that from the 70s or 80s--not as purple a color, though--it was applied with an applicator wand, and it didn't feel creamy like lipstick, but instead like an actual glazing material that covered your lips like vinyl.) Then I used a darker color of lip outliner and surrounded my lips, but I was drawing on my face, not my lips, so I must've looked like some bimbo clown. Stan found me attractive, though. Who knows why.

Labels: Dreams

I was in a living-room-like space, possibly my parent's living room, but that didn't seem quite right even though I think at least my mom was present. There was a Chihuahua* sitting in a small high chair, like where you put a baby. It started urinating, but not in the chair. It was straining really hard and produced a really strong, long pee stream, shooting it in a long, thick arc onto the carpet. (Must have taken one of those male urinary enhancement drugs...uh oh, here come the Google searches). Instead of grabbing the dog and putting it outside, I just let it urinate, and then told my mom about it because she didn't even see it, even though she was watching it. My mom couldn't see the wetness on the floor, so I showed her a trick (which only works in this dream) of putting down a towel in the general area and it would soak up the pee in yellow (not wet, but dry sulfur yellow) patches.

I was in the flat Stan and I lived in for a year when we first moved to Madison. I was getting ready to leave to go someplace with a large manilla envelope. As I went out the door, I noticed another large envelope in the mail box. It was raining, and I was afraid my envelope would get wet. I know this dream segment sounds mundane, but it was a bit eerie and surreal that can't translate well in its retelling.

Labels: Dreams

I had a few dreams Ann woke me up from the past few days, and I'm very thankful she did. The first one was Friday morning and I fell asleep after the alarm - so if Ann didn't wake me up I would have been late for work.

In the dream we were having a tornado warning here in Madison. I was getting ready to take the pets into the basement by moving some things out of the way. Strangely both of our cats came down into the basement with me. We always have to take them down when the waring siren goes off so I was surprised to see the cats. Then Ann woke me up - Thank you.

The next night I had a dream that Ann and I were at my parents house in Yuma with my sister and her husband and first daughter. My mom was cutting up some vegies for lunch and some of them were tomatoes. She told me these tomatoes were some I gave her two years ago then I woke up.

I don't understand how those tomatoes lasted two years.

Whoah, that was one of the most disturbing season finales I've ever seen, probably being beat out in disturbingness only by Twin Peaks 2nd season finale/series finale when an evil Bob-possessed Special Agent Dale Cooper is set loose on the world!

So many people think LOST's flashbacks are confusing to follow, but I've never had a problem with that. But last night's flashforwards were so unnerving. You think the "flashback" series of Jack's feral, oxycotin-addicted bearded and depressed self is a flashback up until the last moment when he sees Kate and is talking about the Airline's compensation with the Golden Pass and how he flies around on planes all the time, hoping it will crash again because he wants to go back.

Is this one of those 'alternate' realities, like what Desmond keeps seeing? Will they be rescued back into a hell world? I had the impression Kate is with Sawyer in this world, and that Jack's father is alive from the way he was referring to him in the present.

Now here's the puzzler...who was in the coffin? I say it was Ben. He's the only one I can think of that would be neither friend nor family of Jack's...I would think other crash survivors would be thought of as friends, if one of them were to die once "back in civilization."

I knew Locke wasn't dead. But will Charlie really become a dead rockstar? Can't he swim out the porthole? I usually don't scream at TV, but when I saw Eyepatch Man (Mikhail) looking in the porthole, now that's a terrifying sight.

I loved the Hurley part when he crashes into that Others camp with the Dharma van...that was good comic relief.

I don't think I can wait until fall. I couldn't sleep much last night after watching that!

Labels: LOST, TV

We went shopping yesterday and I noticed a young woman you looked very fake. She couldn't have been more than 18 years old and it looked like she had the biggest implants they could fit under her skin. I suppose young people do this to get noticed, but does anyone understand the concept of health and that our bodies are natural - as opposed to rooms to be redecorated and reconstructed. I'm support plastic surgery for people who have have problems that need to be fixed, but that's vastly different from altering ourselves for vanity.

I prefer to let nature have her way. My teeth have a natural color and I have no interest in making them white - for society - white teeth are sinister anyway. My hair will fall out and turn grey and I'm fine with these processes. I love mother nature and I say forget trying to impress the shallow and stupid social standards... we should strive to let ourselves be our natural selves as much as we can.

No... I did not find the young woman the least bit attractive ... because I don't like fake fake.

We wanted one of these and tried to buy it this spring, but the company was out. We forgot we planted one last year and it wanted us to know it was here with us by making a flower even while the vine is still very small.

Labels: This Boring Life

About 10-12 years ago, I thought the Onion was funny...how could I not? It was one of Madison's own. But I soon got very tired of the humour. It seemed way too obvious. Smile-worthy, but not laughable. Then they relocated to New York City, got better known, and they're even less funny. I don't know, I read their stuff, and think, 'Yeah, intellectually I see where this is supposed to be funny, but I can't get an honest laugh out of it.' Don't get me wrong...I love satire, I love dry wit, and I can understand how extremely difficult it would be to consistently come up with and write this way, day after day. That doesn't mean I can't say I don't think it's funny. And it's not that I don't get it. I get it. But it's like a been there done that sort of get it. Let's move on to something that will really make me blow coffee on my monitor.

They have a recent story on recalled Pugs; several posts have been made to a Pug group I subscribe to. Again, I should think it's funny, but I don't. In fact, when I saw one pug on the slide show in the right hand corner who "suffers from internal and external bleeding", it immediately made me think of our poor Hieronymus and how he died.

In case you're interested, the URL is www.theonion.com/content/news/dog_breeders_issue_massive_recall. Cut and paste it in your browsers, but there'll be no links from me here.

Labels: Animals, This Boring Life

DREAM 1, before Stan left: I was at the home (looked like a bungalow from California...lots of yellow color on the walls) of some guy who was in a washed-up hair farmer band from the 80s. I have no idea who it was, probably just invented for the dream. Other people were at the house as well, including his (former) bandmates. I think this guy was the vocalist. He had long wavy brown hair, maybe about 5'9" and pretty non-descript. A few of his other bandmates had bleached blond hair. I HATE 80s HAIRFARMER BANDS. Why the hell was I dreaming about this? The odd thing was, is that most hair bands from the 80s are probably around my age now, but this guy seemed younger, like he was in his 30s. Despite the fact he was a lead singer for a hairfarmer band, he seemed like a pretty nice guy without the usual pretensions I would expect out of someone like that. Call me prejudiced. These guys wives were there too, but they were off doing wife things, like chatting in another room away from the rest of us. They seemed like plastic professional offices types, not what I would expect to be married to hairband rockstars (OK, here I go with the prejudice again). We all went into a very large dark room with a large screen on the wall. We sat around in a circle while images were projected on the screen. The images were rather artfully done, digitally produced with lots of blacks, greys, whites and maroon-toned colors. It's hard to explain, but one person discussed something from one of the images, and then chose another person in the room to continue along the same lines. This game went back and forth between the people in the room, but I didn't understand the concept of this game, so I was hoping I never got a turn at this.

DREAM 2, after Stan left: I dreamt I went up to Canada with Stan. We were standing around in a very dark public area, like a bar at a restaurant. One of Stan's current coworkers, a young guy who is also an artist, was there, except it didn't look like him. The guy in the dream was shorter, wore glasses, had a weird crew cut with dark hair and grey hair that was balding on the top, and just generally looked goofy. A waitress/hostess/bartender started talking to us about marijuana and said that it's legal here in Canada. I thought it would be fun to get some and take it back to our hotel. I can't remember if we actually acquired some or not. Then I started thinking, "that can't be right...it can't be legal for recreational use." And then I started thinking that if we got caught with it, I'd tell them I have some sort of medical condition. Then I was freaking out about thinking what would happen to an American getting caught with drugs in a foreign country. I can't remember what else happened, other than I started feeling really strange, but I think it was just that feeling you sometimes get when you're trying to wake up.

Labels: Dreams, WTF

As I was trying to wake up this morning (and failing miserably as I fell back to sleep), the radio had on a program about the current gas prices. Somewhere into the show, I heard something mentioned about the decline of the minivan, and how American car companies are not developing them as hybrid vehicles, or somesuch. Not that we personally could afford a new hybrid vehicle, not that we could even afford a used one in a few years. But why not make hybrid minivans?

More importantly, why are they so detested? Is it the soccer mom image? Yes, the van-o-sprogs with the mom catering to Princess and Junior's every whim and overscheduled and micromanaged extracurricular activity is one of the more hideous abominations of parenthood in this postmodern era. Walking or biking to the local park, pond or open field is an absurdist notion from a bygone era (yeah, mine!), and parents who would allow Precious to play by themselves or with friends in an unorganized fashion without the aid of an automobile to take them to the proper sports activity spot are just, well, bad parents (not according to me, but I don't count since I'm not a parent). But isn't this an attitudinal problem based on a larger societal problem? Why blame the vehicle? It's like shooting the messenger.

I am the furthest thing from a soccer mom...don't have kids, don't want 'em. My husband and I drive a minivan. I am a visual artist, and with seats removed, it allows me to haul lots of large paintings for shows. We garden a lot and are always loading lots of plants, big bags of peat moss and tons of rocks. It also has enough room for two dog kennels, which we take with us on a yearly vacation to see friends and family (that we might not take this year due to those gas prices, but that's for another entry). When we travel, we also bring back loads of cactii for Stan's side-business. This cannot be done with a sedan...there would be no room.

Our van gets high 20s (MPG) on the highway, which is infinitely better than the oh-so-loved SUVs. We only drive it during the weekday if we need to run errands, which usually includes a trip to the post office several times a week as part of my and Stan's business. Hey, I'd walk to a local post office if there was one in my neighborhood, but there isn't, however that's another topic entirely (contract stations with illegible receipts and crack addict employees don't count). Stan takes a bus to his current job. Since I'm self-employed, I do not commute anywhere. As far as our current employment commuting conditions, we're probably some of the greenest DINKs in Madison. But it's not a contest. I'm not competing with anyone. I do what works for me. If that means not driving to a job, or using a vehicle to go to the post office as part of my self employment, that's what I do.

And the comfort! Now this is just a personal thing and your mileage may vary, but the comfort of a minivan (compared to any kind of car including a station wagon) is incomparable. I can breathe in a minivan, but the times we've been forced into various kinds of loaner cars when our van has been in the shop has been an exercise in claustrophobia. I feel my knees are up by my chin, I can't move my legs and feet, and I feel the dashboard wants to headbang me. I'm a relatively small person...I can't imagine what it would be like for a linebacker.

A while ago I saw some young hip urban types driving a small import car with a bumpersticker that said "Minivans Suck." I wanted to yell out, "You suck, idiot," but I silenced my inner angry punk. What totally misguided hostility toward a vehicle that has such an unwarranted bad rap. If they really want to chastise an auto, shouldn't it be the SUV? I'd like to see one of those get mileage in the high 20s (I think we even got 30 MPG once, when the wind was on our side). I'd also like to see an SUV actually HAULING stuff or passengers. Usually there's just one driver--usually a very INCONSIDERATE driver. I've often found Minivan drivers, be they what I would guess would be a soccer mom, or not, to be more considerate on the whole than SUV drivers on the whole. Plus, it's common knowledge that an SUV is a male growth enhancement substitute. I've never heard of someone getting a minivan as a breast enlargement substitute. I think people get them because they're, um...practical. Oooh, did I say a dirty word? Practical? How uncool. No, no one wants to be practical. You either have to get an enormous gas guzzling SUV that proves your manhood or a PC soy-sipping sub-sub-sub compact econo vehicle that proves your greenhood. Not that the latter wouldn't be desirable for some of our uses, however, not everyone can afford a 2nd car or the insurance. And that's one thing that bothers me about the Left is that they think everyone is in the financial situation to get a vegetable-burner or a hybrid or some other non-fossil fuel consumer, and those who don't switch are poor Earthizens. Yet I digress.

Here's an article I found by a musician who used (and loved) his minivan that would haul his band's gear. I'm glad I'm not the only unsoccer mom that lauds the praises of the Minivan. I just wish Detroit would understand.

Labels: Politically Incorrect, This Boring Life

Sometimes the urge to say "Re-check your records, you senile old bat" is overwhelming.

Labels: This Boring Life, WTF

I was at some sort of seated event outside, like a small concert. I was with Stan, possibly some other people (men--I was the only woman) and Anthony Bourdain! He was sitting with us and talking to us like we were old friends. I was feeling really happy knowing that Tony was a friend. I think we were also walking around a downtown area of someplace like Boulder or State Street in Madison. I remember lots of shops...I also remember some sort of Hindu shop with Indian things.

Here's the odd part, later Stan and I go off to eat, but Tony's not with us. How ironic is that? Stan and I are having a helluva time finding a place to eat. We were partly driving/partly walking (you can do that in dreams) around a downtown area of a small western town. We finally found a place to eat, outside of a small coffee shop/cafe that was very expensive. We sat at a table and the waitress brought us out menus. Then there was a woman who put her stuff down on our table as if she was going to sit there too, as if we didn't even exist.

Labels: Dreams

Ever have a dream that you can't remember, but then you'll come across something during the day that'll either cause you to remember the dream in great detail, or just allow you to recognize you had a dream about a certain subject, but not remember a thing about it? I can't remember the setting or circumstances, but I think I had a dream about Billy Mumphrey. Or at least about the manuscript.

"You see Elaine, Billy was a simple country boy. You might say a cockeyed optimist, who got himself mixed up in the high stakes game of world diplomacy and international intrigue."

Labels: Dreams

I was with Stan, who was driving, and possibly someone else. Stan was trying to park our van in front of a tall house across the street that doesn't exist IRL. In fact, there were several tall houses that appeared to be over three stories tall. They were an old Victorian style, similar to some that I've seen in Chicago, with high ceilings and long, thin windows. Stan was edging the van very close to the house until he actually hit the house. He looked worried that he caused damage to it, but I don't think the impact was that hard. We went inside, and sat down in a "lobby" area. I noticed that the house had elevators, and that it went up either the 19th or 26th floor. That's not a house, that's a high-rise condominium.

----

What sucks about this is that I fear this is a promonition of horrors to come, not next year, not even a few years from now, but maybe a decade? Two decades? Our street is split down the middle politically, between "blighted" and "unblighted." We live on the "safe" side, the "unblighted" side. Across the street is defined as blighted. I say the city of Madison has a very odd definition of blight. They wouldn't know urban blight if it bit them on their well-developped suburban ass. And that's really what it's all about. They see a certain area of town, which happens to include the area across our street, as ripe for big development, big condos, tall yuppie, pricey buildings that take over modest, yet nice areas. There is nothing wrong with the homes across the street--with the exception of the house immediately across from ours, I'm sure they're in better shape and more updated than our house. It's just that it would be easy pickings, politically, to signify it as blighted, signify it as a TIF district (which I honestly don't understand the complexities of). I swear that the only reason our side of the street isn't included is because we are on a hill and it would be very difficult to excavate and construct large condo buildings here.

Labels: Dreams, Politically Incorrect

I had a dream about a small pond with frogs. The frogs were climbing up a muddy bank and jumping back into the water. I was pointing them out to Ann, who was with me and we watched them for a while.

Labels: Dreams

I dreamt two of our newts, two different species, were breeding.

Labels: Animals, Dreams

I was going up Door County with my parents. Don't know why, but Stan wasn't in the picture--usually he is. I think we all took separate cars (my mom doesn't drive IRL) and in the process we all got separated, so I was trying to call them on my cell phone (my parents don't have cells) so we could all meet someplace. I was worried that my dad forgot to bring his cellphone with him. I remember getting to Door County and seeing a beach that seemed more like an ocean than a great lake. There were large waves and people playing in the water (a bit too cold for that right now!). I know it was also more involved and convoluted, but because it was so confusing it was very hard to remember all of it.

Labels: Dreams

Haven't felt good the past few days or so. Ate some Ramen with a bad spice and it gave me bad heartburn. Haven't been able to sleep much at night, tired during the day. No time for anything.

Had a dream the other night that I was talking to a man with the same last name as mine. I was trying to find out if he lived in England (which is most likely where any relative on that side would be, but I'd have to go back many generations since my granddad's brother didn't have kids), but I must have woken up before I got an answer.

I uploaded a video Stan took of our amazing blooming orchid cactus to YouTube. I posted it over at Stan's blog. Now that I know how YouTube works, I'll have to start making movies of our animals to bore everyone with, like in the old days when people showed you slide shows after dinner of their trips out west.

Labels: Dreams, Plants, This Boring Life

The Good: Although I wasn't anticipating finding anything at Artist and Display other than some Pearl-Ex dry pigments, I found the holy grail: SENNELIER OIL PASTELS INTERFERENCE COLORS! They looked like they had been there a long time, beating around, mingling with other pastels, getting dingy, tested, used up. They weren't the cleanest, newest looking pastels, but they were what I wanted, and I was desperate. I didn't exactly buy them out, but I bought at least three of the ones I could find, some 4 each, maybe even more of some colors. Let's just say if you plan on buying Blue and Green Interference Sennelier Oil Pastels at Milwaukee's Artist and Display, you're out of luck now. There might be some Reds left.

The Bad: Some store called Art Supply Products or something similar. Found it through a Google Search, complete with address, Google map put us in the middle of suburbia. Tried to call them. Got an answer phone. Guy probably runs it out of his basement. Oh well. Yet another miss: Sax Arts and Crafts used to be a good store when it was close to downtown in the lower level of an old building. Now they've moved out to suburbia in an office building, are closed Saturdays and of course Sundays with 8-4:30 hours during the week. Boo Hiss.

The Ugly: I thought when Boerner Gardens got a makeover earlier this milennium, it was a nice improvement...newer restrooms and a nice cafe/cafeteria where one could get a yummy bite before setting off to see the gardens. Since we'd driven all around the greater Milwaukee area in search of art supplies before going to the gardens today, I knew I would need that snack because we were both famished. But the girls at the front desk said it's been gone for two years. No, now if you want to eat at the gardens, you have to be part of a catered wedding party. I could go on about the benefits of Public Spaces and Services and Social Programs and the benefit to Humanity and the evils of privatization and the privatizing of once former Public areas and services and the evils of increasing user fees and lowering of taxes (that is only noticeable if you're wealthy anyway) that fund organizations and parks and recreation, but Stan's already heard my rant over a late lunch today, and, well, you probably get my drift and where I stand politically anyway.

We decided not to see the gardens. Their fee was high, there was no place to eat, so we went to a restaurant instead before heading back home. We almost ran over a wedding party on our way out. The outside gardens at Olbrich here in Madison are still free. The Arboretum is still free. The Rotary Gardens in Janesville is free. I don't want to pay large prices only to get sideswiped by a bunch of pompous giggling women in froofy wedding garb who think they have the right of way. I find it really cool that there's no room in the Tucson Botanical Gardens for wedding parties (and they had a wonderfully delicious little cafe there), although I do get a perverse pleasure of imagining someone's over-the-top wedding dress getting caught on cactus spines.

Labels: Art, This Boring Life

Here's an article in the Wisconsin State Journal about the Sundance 608 Cinema. There's a small picture on the right, click it to see it larger. On the left hand side are people in front of my paintings. There were only room for three of mine, unfortunately, being that these works are fairly large.

I also found a link to another photo of the Cinema which shows my work here which is a little larger than the previous link. (Please note that although the Flicker gallery is by DrStarbuck, this is no relation to Stan.) I also do not know any of the people in the photos.

Labels: Art

Hoo boy, am I depressed. For the last few days I have literally been searching the entire world (online) and Madison (in person), and planned to search Milwaukee this weekend, for Sennelier Iridescent (Interference) oil pastels. Nothing, except for one online seller through Amazon. It was the only place I found that had them in stock, so I decided to get 3 of each of the 6 colors, you know, to stock up. I was happy to have located them because I feared they were not being made anymore. I was able to get just the regular "iridescent" (metallic) pastel set through Sennelier, but it did not include the interference colors. It did, however, include a catalog with a complete list of all their colors, interference nowhere to be found.

So I placed the order through Amazon last night, but they refunded it just a few minutes ago, due to them being out of stock. They didn't realize they still had the inventory listed online.

I want to cry.

I guess it's time to figure out how to make my own pastels. I have plenty of raw interference pigment--or powder, thanks to Daniel Smith or Pearl Ex or even the very-difficult-to-order-from Sepp Leaf (because they have a thing for Fax Machines and do not do the online thing...polar opposite of me). Interference Powder is abundant. Interference Paint is abundant too. But the only ones who made Interference pastels, Sennelier, has discontinued them. They had a corner on the market...or was the market so insignificant? Did I put them out of business when I stopped buying them (when I went through a hiatus of using pastels)? Doubtful. It's just depressing. I found an online recipe for pastel-making at About.com, but it's for soft pastels, not oil. I could give it a try. No one that I've heard of has ever made Interference soft pastels, including Sennelier.

I am so bummed about this.

Sennelier, why did you do this?

Labels: Art

I dreamt I was still in graduate school, or at least I was at the dreaded InHumanities Building in the 7th Floor Gallery. I was in an exhibition with other grad students, but I felt a bit funny about it because I felt out of it (like, 'cause I graduated already 14 years ago?). My paintings were similar to the way I painted 20 years ago, very figurative. Some of them felt unfinished, incomplete, yet I hung them anyway. There was a woman there who had created a large painting (maybe 5x6 feet) comprised of dried corncobs. It was very interesting--unique media, unique idea, good execution. I liked it, but being organic like that it wouldn't have much of a shelf-life, especially if she stored it in a barn.

Labels: Art, Dreams

I dreamt I was in a house with a couple other people, women, but we all seemed like young girls. For some reason, we, or they, had arranged for a creepy Freddy Kreuger-like guy to come to the house to scare us. Now I assume this guy was an actor-for-hire, but I was still scared. I did not want to be part of this, but I knew if I hid, he'd fine me anyway. I was thinking I could hide in a bathroom in a tub and close the shower curtain around me, but then if he found me there anyway, I'd be super scared and trapped. I felt that no matter where I hid in the house, he would find me, as if he had heat-seaking sensors like a snake. I distinctly remember part of the dream where I was in a bedroom, like my bedroom at my parent's house, except it was on the second floor, and I was looking out the window while this guy pulled up in the driveway. He got out of the car already dressed as Freddy Kreuger. At this point, I woke up. It's as if my self-defense mechanism would not allow such a scary thing to happen even in a dream.

Labels: Dreams

Everyone might want to have Morel Mushrooms growing in their own back yards, and we have it. There are only three of them to be found, and perhaps there may be a few more hiding in the flowers too. If there are more we may not find them easily, and with the dry spring morels may be harder to find anyway.

For a few years going back about five years we tried to plant some morel spores on the weed elm tree. We thought this tree would be cut down soon and it was two years ago, so if morels are showing up this year the root system of this tree must have finally died. We used the same process on our apple tree a few years before it died and had only two morel mushrooms grow after that tree died.

The method was to rinse off morel mushrooms we bought to eat and save the water from the washing. The water containing spores was then dumped out at the base of these trees while the trees were still alive. Then when the trees die the morels show up in the shaded areas where the tree roots were running.

There's not much to eat but it makes for a great photo.

Labels: Plants