Desire Paths

Tea and Oranges. Wait, what?

2010-05-24T04:53:00.000-07:00

See! I found a way to have both a linky post and a drawy post ALL IN ONE. Because I am cool like that, with mad mouse skillz on MSPaint at work. Yo.

This toasty printer thingy is ridiculous, but it seems like it'd be fun. Also reminds me of "continental" breakfasts in the hostels I stayed at while backpacking in Ireland.

If you're anti-toast (Blasphemy!) then you can always just use toast-coasters which should be funner to say than it actually is.

How about some fancy shmancy toast if you're into that kind of thing?

Finally a way to combine your love of the Beatles with your love of tea, in a yellow submarine of your own.

A bunch of tea recipes, mostly added here because I really love that cup.

For the more "modern" people out there the Sorapot is a sleeker pomo teapot. Not my personal cup of tea (HA), but it is visually pleasing.

Blah blah blah blah, blah ooooooooh look at the purdy sugar! blah blah blah blah.

I must say, I really want to crank this storm in a teacup but I wouldn't pay that much for it.

My make-believe edgy yet fun, comfy yet rockin' (who says rockin' anymore? What am I, in the 90s?) tea shop and cafe will totally have this poster as some focal point in the shop.

You're my one eyed girl (Sha la la la la la la...)

2010-01-30T08:55:00.000-08:00

Something of a freakshow blow up doll, the one-eyed girl decorated the margins of all my notebooks in one version or another throughout my life. It's the type of thing you doodle while semi listening to the drone of the teacher (always bringing to mind Charlie Brown's 'Hwa hwa hwa hwa, hwa hwa, hwa.') sortof without thinking and sortof with hoping the girl sitting next to you will go "oh, wowee! That's some talent you got there!". Some.

My one eyed girl has morphed along the years - deserting her pseudo realism for the more willy nilly style of a comicsy nature, where a wonky eye doesn't deter from the artistic value of the drawing - it makes it. Beyond being simpler, it's also more me. I see the world through loony glasses, and taking things to the extreme seems to bring things into "normal" focus for me. I like trying to bend the lines and exaggerate the obvious in an attempt to make you see what I see.

(Remember that song? Do you seee what IIiiiiiii seeeeeeeee? Googling now shows me it's a christmas nativity song. Bad Jew! Bad Jew!)

In any case, I keep shying away from taking it to the next level. There are excuses (reasons!) that can easily be overcome if it weren't for the fear factor (Frank Herbert, where are you? Fear is the mind killer! Fear is the little death! Anyone? Hello?... ::crickets:: ), but somehow I can't bring myself to face it full on and get past the obstacles thrown in my way. This of course makes me feel losery and then grumpy at myself for not DOING something to get out of the losery feeling, and blah blah blah vicious cycle which goes on and on like the song that never ends.

(Some people STARTED singing it not knowing what it was, and they'll go on singing it FOREVER just because this is the song that never ends....).

Rambling.

Not drawing.

Not sketching.

At least I still got my health.

*cough*

Born Free

2009-09-11T03:47:00.000-07:00

Is it weird that while taking out a chicken from the freezer for a good Shabbes dinner, the first thing that came to my mind was this song?

Even worse than that is the fact that the internet hop scotch brought me to where I am right now as I'm writing this post - listening to a playlist of Tom Jones... Yes, that's right. I AM LISTENING TO THE SEX BOMB. Go ahead and take my name off the hip list for all of time. (Saying "hip list" sort of makes me an automatic write-off anyhow, huh?) *quickly youtubes Ladytron and bops head in nonchalant yet utterly hip manner* Nothin to see here. Move along..

Actually, speaking of Ladytron, walking down the street the other day I heard a beat coming from some kiosk that reminded me of one of their songs that I used to listen to constantly on my Discman (who even uses a discman these days??) walking around the slummish neighbourhoods I lived in during University. I gotta tell you that it made my bowels go all crunchy with the memories of the ghosts of Uni past. Fuck if I didn't do a whole lot of things best forgotten back in the day...

But I digress (as usual. Can anyone spell ADD?) - I was actually thinking about freedom, and flying fowl. Or something. *blinks* Ok, sue me, I have no idea what I was thinking about.

I wonder sometimes if everyone's mind is like this - a crazy swirly black hole filled with bouncy rubber balls and disjointed ideas. I always envied those people who seemed to have such a strong grip on their minds - knowing exactly what they wanted from life - a goal always shining at the end of the tunnel to light their paths. Making steps in a direction that had always been a "goal" of my own for so long brings up the inevitable question of, will this be IT? The elusive IT we're all looking for (ok, this is IT. I've found IT. IT is where I want to be...).

Of course I know that it's not that simple, that happiness is something one has to work on constantly. Sort of like finding Mr. Right -- one doesn't tumble into love and that's IT, bring on the babiez and the picket fences, because dude, I am in LURVE!!!1 - I'm with who I am pretty sure is my own Mr. Right, and damn if we don't constantly have to work on finding the perfect rhythm for us.

But this afternoon, cooking non-born-free-range chickens for a shared friday dinner amongst many, and doodling on the laptop with a minimum of clothing and an acute case of bed-head -- I reckon I'll enjoy the journey for now. At least until the next bouncy ball bangs against my cortex just so.

no picture this time, just links of other people being cool

2009-06-19T00:40:00.000-07:00

Art

Ara Peterson makes optical illusions in person! Kinda makes my eyes swim, in a cool coloury sort of way.

Adam Ziskie makes some groovy art - especially digging "the glass fiddle", not to mention the Willy Wonka quote. Pure imagination indeed.

More mega cool art this time by Nick Cave (not-that-one-the-other-one), named soundsuits, which are basically explosions of YAY. *nods sagely*

This was my wallpaper at work until my boss, The Professor (that's what we call him, seriously) asked what it was - I said it relaxes me and he snorted (he never snorts - very odd) and said he thought it was more exciting than relaxing. *blinks* Ew. Ok. Still, Melissa Haslam has some gorgeous stuff, and I just want the kitties.

Trees. I love em. And I love Bryan Nash Gill's tree relief prints.

Sweet simple art by Blanca Gomez, especially like the monsieur ones.

I love the 3D art here - especially the elephant who can move his legs with the knobby things on the side

Various designs and art about love/sex. Love the hide-away sex toy in the lamp.

A cool collection of art made from obsolete technology.

Microsoft becoming cool? Check out these brilliant wallpapers that are rumoured to be part of Microsoft 7.

Hee, knit your own Mr. Peen.

I love Gallery 1988 - and this show Beyond The Page re-looking at classic texts from our youth is full of wonderful stuff.

Stuff for Tea

These tea towels are pretty and make me feel studenty again. I kinda miss being studenty dammit.

Apparently these beautiful kettles are called Lady Cadogen teapots, and I want, allthough I secretly know they'd get all mucky with sediment in like, 5 minutes. Still purdy.

Yet another tea kettle - the all in one - of course, what I like most about it is how the graphics appear only when it's hot. Me and my love for hyper-color changing things. I'm such an 80's child.

Furniture-ish Art

I love these chairs - I can just imagine curling up in a chair of flowers - seems so relaxing.

I think these crochet lamps would make such pretty light. Of course, my tel aviv apartment would ruin the whole clean-white thing. But still.

Love these chairs, although I have no idea what they're made of since I can't understand a word on that site. But still it's a pretty chair.

This cloud shelf is wonderful, as well as the stuff on it. Yay ugly dolls.

More pretty light fixtures - this one from paper maiche.

Various Other Stuff

There are 3 things I love about this thing - the magentability (*insists on word existance* ) of the box it comes with, and of course the flexy nature of it, and that it's a magnet. Who doesn't love playing with magnets?

I really want these mosaic fridge magnets - I'm imagining hours of fun, alongside hours of frustration for not getting it *exactly right* :)

Feeling sorely without a *home* these days, maybe that's why this concept of mobile houses on wheels appeal to me.

Bunny jewlery with various weapons of destruction. Yeeesss, bunnies = equal mass destruction. *blink*

I don't know what to call this, other than "weird plant thingo"

A dark depressing first dictionary.

A nice paper card with a popup flower.

fancy meeting you 'ere

2009-05-01T01:43:00.000-07:00

A while back I met a friend for beers for "old times sake" - the original plan being some sort of re-creation of the recreation (you can SO tell I'm a linguist, huh? HUH?) of yesteryear. Plans being the wobbly things they are, the end result was a bit different than the expected rampage and bacchanalian frenzy.

Not that I didn't enjoy myself, but that bzzz feeling I used to get at the end of the first drink, the one that told me moremoremorefunfunfunmoremoremore just isn't there these days. I remember the slightly desperate tingle -similar somehow to the tingle of insomnia - that would always put me right on the edge, only to throw myself gleefully over it - Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Oblivion! Life of the party! Cowabunga!! (*is child of the 80's*). Bejesus, did I have me some great times there in mid air; but to stretch this rotten metaphor a bit longer, in the end I always hit the ground.

Truth is, I'm getting old. There. I said it!

*pulls out rocker*

*piles up cats*

*develops stink eye*

*tells damn kids to get off my lawn*

*cackles gleefully*

Ok, perhaps I'm not quite there yet, but the reality is that I just don't have the patience and energy for the shenanigans of yesteryear. It's such a cliche to be in a relationship and suddenly have your tolerance for alcohol drop by cubic tons ("oh, I'll have a glass of red wine, thanks"), to develop a burning interest in cooking sites and recipes (and having them delivered to your door courtesy of the nearest feed) instead of madly jumping between the stepping stones of the interwebz, searching for the latest, most hardcore, underground art movement ("if only I lived in XXX, I'd totally be OUT THERE instead of here, in this cultural vacuum!"). So, yes - perhaps I am a living breathing cliche. But damn if I'm not enjoying it.

So why did it cross the road, really?

2008-08-10T14:59:00.000-07:00

My life has always been touched with a hint of the absurd. As a child I found great pleasure in lying on my back, legs and arms pointing stiff into the air - explaining to anyone who cared to stop and wonder that I was a dead horse, of course.

Give me an inch and I'll run with a scenario - seeing it unfold in technicolor in my imagination, full text and sound effects added in little bubbles in the perimeters. More often than not I start explaining these scenes - hands waving, eyes sparkling in a feverish insanity of creation only to come down to earth to a view of glazed blinking and nervous giggles. The few who follow me through these manic journeys tend to become my bosom buddies - cartoony insanity is a rare, yet lovely, commodity.

In any case, I do find it amusing to read a really badly written book detailing, amongst other things, the vampiric pregnancy and subsequent bloody delivery via Daddy-Vampire biting through the womb of Mommy to release magical Baby-Vampire (OMGspoiler! They live happily ever after!!!1 lolz! ! !). It's not so much the irony of reading it when I did that draws me in, but the lure of the absurd. The ability to look at myself from the outside and snort. Ha!

So yeah. Nothing much of importance to say here. Just wanted to explain why I drew a strange drunken chicken who showed up in the midst of purple puppy-saur land on a sunny afternoon, wondering cluckingly to itself about the time space continuum.

*nods*

I'm glad you understand now.

sing a song for me

2008-07-25T16:10:00.000-07:00

There are quite a lot of things on my mind at the moment - a few might have beens, a few more what will bees, and the general state of what is now(s). The thoughts build up there in the strange place between heart and brain, rolling around in the dust, gathering bits and pieces from older leftover thoughts and growing in proportion - way beyond their intended state.

Sometimes I feel like the thoughts are like marbles, hard and round and rolling around loudly as I shake my head - eventually becoming lost under the fridge forever. (I wonder what a mind fridge looks like... Either I'm totally lost in my pseudo metaphor or I'm on to something. Something about cooling units and... stuff. *waves all-encompassing hand*). But not tonight - tonight the thoughts are amorphous things that gather energy from every added thought until my mind burns, even sizzles, with the heat of them right there beneath the surface.

A main thought at the moment is "but I was so fucking happy!" or other variants of "it's not fair dammit." But really, new developments don't necessarily mean the end of happiness. It's just that when I'm in this state of mind I tend to get stuck on the process, rather than the eventual outcome.

It will be alright though, in the end. Another entry in the lifebook and all that jazz. This too shall pass (pass the salt, I have an open wound that needs a-treatin'). It's just that I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to. And so the thoughts gather heat.

SMX

2008-07-09T14:27:00.001-07:00

So there's a guy. Well, let's capitalize him - A Guy, because it's not really the specific dude who matters, but rather the idea of him. A Guy changes in identity every once in a while, depending on circumstances (usually involving copious amounts of alcohol) and coincidence -- the planets align themselves in such a manner (a manner of alcohol!) and events run a predestined course which ends in the bedroom. Or maybe in the public bathroom... *shifty eyes*. Whatever floats your boat.

Now, the dilemma is of course the determiner, because if we were speaking of The Guy, everything would be different (except the alcohol - that's a constant.). A Guy is much more fluid and changing, and has a whole different set of "rules" to him, which are hard to keep track of. In this case, A Guy walks into a bar one late night, and perhaps this is the second such night, and invites you back to his love nest. Things progress in the expected manner, and much fun is had, weehee!

Fast forward a few days and boredom, insomnia, horniness, tingly bones, excitement etc all coalesce in the form of a deep insistent desire to send a text message. An sms, or rather an smX (Gettit? See what I did there? With the X???) which wouldn't necessarily be a booty call per se, but rather some form of primitive flirting, and attention grabbing. The smx would of course be pondered over and thought through, and would emerge perfectly formed from the thigh of Zeus - "So..... Sup? *insert eyebrow waggle here*"

Then what? Ah! That is the question of course. You never can tell what the smx will bring, but in most cases it won't be exactly what you want and need at that late hour of the night and then you're left with a slight bitter taste in your mouth. "Well, wasn't that a waste of time and energy. Meh." Because of course you need him to answer all the bazillion layers of subtext you put into that text, and really - there aren't many that can drop into your subconscious like that and dig you right away. And if they could - well, then perhaps there would be a question of determiner once again.

So instead of writing to A Guy, I write to You, oh non-existent-yet-perhaps-future-reader. Whaddaya say? Wanna take a bath?

Hold still so I can count you, dammit!

2008-06-18T15:51:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I dunno either.

Insomnia is a funny thing with me -- well, not exactly "funny ha ha" really, more along the lines of "funny, buggeringmothershitdamn."

Every once in a while, for no real rhyme nor reason - I just can't fall asleep. Or rather won't. I suppose if I actually would make the impossibly long 2 second trip from this here seat into my bed, I'd eventually lose consciousness. But the trouble is that some strong part of me just doesn't wanna. I wander around pondering metaphysical questions like: If I open the fridge one more time, will something desirable suddenly materialize? Not to mention introspective ponderings such as: What would I look like if I shaved off all the hair on my body? and waxing poetic about the state of the world around us; Damn, it's hot tonight.

Important and life altering thoughts to be sure.

In any case, I often spend half the night poking into thoughts and things better left un-poked, until finally collapsing into bed in a disgruntled heap, muttering under my breath about various deprivations and their destructive outcomes.

Then I roll my eyes at myself for using so many Big Girl words when I'm supposed to be feeling veeeerrrry sleeeeeeepy.

Although at the moment my right eyeball burns like a mother when I roll it since I stupidly blinked while soaping my face in the shower, and got the evil facial soap suds (which MUST be made of pure acid) in my eye. Note to self --> wash face with eyes closed next time, kthnx.

So, I shall bid you ("you") good night, with a definite lack of eye rolling.

And remember - panda sheep is watching you over his shoulder. I'd be careful if I were you. (you!)

I always identified best with Grumpy.

2008-05-28T14:08:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the only thing one can do is bang ones head repeatedly upon ones desk.

One can also overabuse the use of "one".

Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

It opened with a phone call that woke me up at the ungodly hour of half past noon -- not just any phone call, but an IRATE phone call (second in annoyance level only to the Sudden Death phone call) accusing me of something that did not happen. Spent the rest of the day having Stern Conversations with the people involved in order to clear the air (smelly misunderstandings are plentiful at the workplace) and feeling alternately smug (for being in the right) and grumpy (for being caught in the situation in the first place).

Harrumph, I say. Harrumph!

It continued with boring work matters (I'm a supersecretary of sorts - an unsung hero of the masses) that will most definitely come back to haunt me with their unfinished edges in the next few days, not to mention the constant worrying if I'm "alright" from co workers who seemed surprised at my mumbling and grumbling under my breath. (Unseen stabbing motions with scissors towards the backs of said co workers helped immeasurably).

Also to make matters worse I didn't consume any alcohol today (!) AND I heard from a voice from the past; (sooo, uhh. Heya pretty lady. Sup?) Voices from the past also tend to make me grumpy -- my days as Lady Shagsalot make for interesting stories perhaps, but weren't necessarily my best.

I might just blame it on the moon phase. Or maybe on the Boogie.

An introduction of sorts

2008-03-31T21:07:00.000-07:00

Once again I find myself introducing myself to the void.

So, uhh. Hi!!

*waves manically*

*notices no one is there*

*scratches head in a nonchalant manner as if manic waving was somehow something you imagined because hey, look how scratchy my head is, I must have just been stretching... yeah... stretching... and well, maybe there was a bee, or something. OMFG, LOOK, A BEE!!*

I lost the whole 3rd person thing there, huh? I knew that damn degree in English was worthless.

In any case, hey. Sup? I'm me. If you've arrived here you probably know of this "me" already, and if you stick around you'll probably learn more.

Not exactly sure yet what this blog will contain - most likely many links to weird and wonderful things (more weird than wonderful since that's just the way I roll), hopefully some of my comic-like drawings (which is my real agenda here, but I know I tend to digress) and a shit load of run-on sentences (with a blatant overuse of brackets).

I'll explain about the name next time. (Ooh, the suspense!)