Art of the Letter

Existential

2012-02-21T19:21:00.000-08:00

In the gracious words of my little sister that are posted on the fridge even as I write this...

Cancer

It takes just
six small letters
to make a hero of
a well functioning
Liver,
and the previously unknown
location of the
pancreas
becomes obvious:
It's in the back of the mind
near Hope,
just below "What's For Dinner",
and next to
"How Does One Say
Goodbye?".

~ G

This is the best explanation I can offer for my long and not exactly sporadic absence. The woman who can call down the hummingbirds to her welcoming fingers, who loves an exasperating man and raised six exasperating sons and one stubborn daughter, who taught me stillness and pies, who gave me dainty ankles and dimpled cheeks, her middle name, and hatboxes on my birthday, will be gone before long. I haven't a moment to lose.

Spring Tension

2012-02-15T09:28:00.000-08:00

Anyone have a suggestion on how to determine the proper spring tension for a replacement spring on a Silent Super? I keep trying to cannibalize springs from other sources, but can't get it to type more than half of a page before the problems start again.

Maybe I should write

2012-02-15T08:55:00.001-08:00

Maybe.

Just maybe.

ITAM already?

2012-02-01T07:29:00.000-08:00

it's here again?

hmmm.

special.

Bookprint

2012-01-26T08:45:00.000-08:00

I discovered this last night. Its an interesting thought; give it a read!

Book Matters: What is your bookprint? ksl.com

Chew on this

2012-01-26T07:03:00.000-08:00

Couple days ago, I pulled a post I'd written because honestly, you guys made me mad. All you could do was sit and bash on Vegas (justifiably, I'm sure), without making a case for the opposition. Sounds like a pretty poor defense to me. But, the again, that's how a lot of people work. Bash something but don't really defend the alternative--let it shine on its own, they say, but screw anyone who dares voice a protesting opinion--use your vehemence to shut them down before they even start.

I don't give a damn that Vegas is hot as hell--I'd be more likely to avoid the Pacific Northwest for 300 cloudy days a year. How the hell do you people deal with that? Heat is easy--clothes are meant to be taken off. But lack of sunshine? In the words of my coworker, "fuck, man." I'll be stuck in a building a lot of the time anyway... why would I want somewhere that I can't play when I do get the time to go outside?

I'm not going to ask my question again, because this whole deal made me realize that I don't really give a flying rat's ass. I'm sure one of you would chime in in defense of the desert, so sorry for pulling it, but it was better this way. I'm going to go where will be the best for me.

Cheers

The Truth?

2012-01-18T09:52:00.001-08:00

This would affect us too!!!

I'm just not feeling writing. Maybe it was December, but here I sit again, with assignments due and a blog wanting, and writing is one of my last choices of a diversion. Whoda thought that the person who posted 20+ pieces in a week would feel this way.

So I'm going to go back to staring at my computer screen and my notes... I'll be back, I promise. There were a few ideas that I'd thought about writing and they might not be totally dead yet.

until then...

Let's work to keep our blogs free, to allow us to post and share work and things we find cool or just plain handy.

I'm not a code wizard who could figure out how to black out (aside from the really cool elephant background) our site, but I can still take a stand.

Learn more:

http://americancensorship.org/infographic.html

We may be the ones that are all about the retrotech, but the high tech is what makes our community possible. Without it, we'd just be isolated enthusiasts, and the typopshere would be little more than a dream.

And Now...Back to Our Scheduled Programming

2012-01-10T15:42:00.000-08:00

Sorry folks...graduation hit, then Christmas, and then the virus to end all viruses which left me with an ancient desktop that couldn't summon the energy for anything remotely as complicated as Blogger. A blank white screen was the best it could muster. But my laptop has been de-bugged and I PROMISE...that life will be getting back to normal now. I missed you all...

Blip and a Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T06:23:00.000-08:00

We're still alive, don't worry. :)

We want to wish all of you a very Happy New Year, and thank you for sticking with us through some pretty crazy times.

And here's to 2012. It's going to be amazing.

Cheers!

Epic Journey XXV: The conclusion, and the letter

2011-12-23T11:10:00.000-08:00

This is it. The last part of this epic journey of 10,000 words of nonfiction. I survived.

Thank you for all standing by me as I gave my radio blips from the middle of the wilderness, letting you know I was still there, still alive.

As to my art tag references, the first was to Monte Python and the Holy Grail, the second to Douglass Adams.

And now, on to The Letter from two Fridays ago.

It's simple.

I got into med school. :D

EPIC JOURNEY XXIV!!!!!! THE SUMMIT!!!

2011-12-22T21:14:00.001-08:00

DONE DONE DONE DONE!!!
I MADE IT!

Yeah, I did it.

I sent the email that had the attachment that means I'M DONE!

The EPIC JOURNEY is complete.

Or nearly so, but whatever.

I'll post a wrapup tomorrow, of course, and I'll tell you about The Letter.

Clue 2: It was the best early Christmas present EVAR!

Epic Journey XXIII.5: Happy

2011-12-22T19:29:00.001-08:00

It's a really good feeling when you start realizing that things are actually coming together and this whole project might work.

Epic Journey XXIII: Denial

2011-12-22T18:52:00.000-08:00

M said it. The reason we seek distraction in the crunch time is denial. Trying to deny that we really need to do this.

Oh procrastination. How I love thee.

Just get me through the next four hours, mind, and we can spend the next week writing gibberish and frivolous stuff like stories about hipster aliens who are trying to take over the world.

And tomorrow marks 2 weeks after The Letter. I'll be telling more about it then...

But the first hint? I've mentioned the process before on AdC...

Epic Journey XXII: Seeevvveeeeennn Hooooouuuurrrrssss

2011-12-22T16:04:00.000-08:00

UNTIL FREEDOM!

Midnight is the deadline.

It's one deadline that I will most definitely love the sound when it whooshes by.

Since no one got the reference made in Epic Journey XX, bonus points if anyone gets what I referenced in this post, and double bonus points if you catch the first one.

Epic Journey XXI: At least the first two pages are good...

2011-12-21T15:08:00.001-08:00

Doncha just dread the break? You're working, you're writing, and all of a sudden, you stop. You can't figure out how to transition from the idea you just finished into the next one, and suddenly, you lose all motivation...

Yup. I know how it feels... And it happened just as I hit the 25% mark. Still got 6 pages (at least) to write!

Epic Journey XX: 'm not dead yet!

2011-12-21T14:21:00.001-08:00

Just cuz it's been a while since I've sent out one of those radio blips that I'm still alive.

Bonus points to anyone who figures out why I've tagged this post with "art."

Epic Journey XIX: Positivity

2011-12-20T11:59:00.000-08:00

So my question to you all today is thus:

How do you end a paper in which you talk about all the things that are wrong on a positive note?

Maybe I should explain: I'm writing a paper about water rights in my state, and it turns out, there are a lot of things that aren't that good. I give solutions, of course, in my paper, but how do I end it on a positive note when most of the solutions aren't that practical and aren't that tangible?

Epic Journey XVIII: This post has no title

2011-12-19T15:32:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm not exactly passionate an excited about this project, but it's definitely turning out to be fascinating. I've learned a lot about topics that are actually relevant to my own life.

It's very interesting...

Epic Journey XVII: Disinterest

2011-12-19T09:30:00.000-08:00

Every been on one of those quests, those project, where you're all excited about it at first, and then yu actually go to get started, and it isn't as cool?

Oh yeah. We've all done NaNoWriMo. Should have remembered. We've all been there.

Well this time, there is No Way Out. Damn figuring out how to commit to projects.

Epic Journey XVI: The next stage

2011-12-19T06:33:00.000-08:00

There has been a secret trail discovered! One of the papers isn't due until after Christmas!

But that still leaves the mountain to climb. Time to set out. This weekend was a great rest break, and now, it's time for the slog to the end.

Epic Journey XV: Kermit Like Spaz

2011-12-17T07:24:00.000-08:00

Watch the first ten seconds of this video and you'll see what I'm talking about.

And one of my favorites, just to get it stuck in your head:

Epic Journey XIV: 19 minutes to spare

2011-12-16T15:42:00.001-08:00

I DID IT! I MADE IT!

*does a kermit-like spaz*

And now, a rest break before heading on to the highest peak: A Review of Water Rights in the West.

Epic Journey XII: One hour

2011-12-16T14:49:00.001-08:00

One hour to the summit, and the best thing that I can think of doing is posting here? I know they've entertained M, but is anyone else even reading this? Or is it just annoying?

Epic Journey I forgot which number: In which one throws up hands

2011-12-16T13:55:00.000-08:00

And wishes that a prof would actually reply to emails.
I"m not going to say I'm in trouble yet.
But that's the general consensus.

Epic Journey XI: Three hours

2011-12-16T12:51:00.001-08:00

This time frame makes me thankful I've done National Novel Writing Month so many times and know how many words I can crank out in a short amount of time. I have three hours to reach the summit before darkness.

Epic Journey X: Realization 3

2011-12-16T09:38:00.001-08:00

I should have started this project a long time ago... And found the one book that details what I'm working on, and read it.

Epic Journey IX: Waking up

2011-12-16T05:45:00.000-08:00

Every had one of those days when you wake up and realize that nothing got done what needed to be done? Then you know what Day 3 of the Epic Journey feels like. The clock is ticking at 10 hours until I'm due at the next summit, and there are things that must be done before then, like prepare my pack animal for the journey and take care of business here. I didn't get much past the way point, but I made it to a herder's yurt, and spent the night on the floor there. It was warm, that was the best part. I've grown very fond of being warm.

Epic Journey VIII: Just one

2011-12-15T12:22:00.000-08:00

Just need a paragraph.

<3 PHD comics. Such a great way to procrastinate!

Epic Journey VII: In which I realize I am crazy(er) [than previously thought.]

2011-12-15T08:42:00.000-08:00

Mainly for my choice of chosen sport. Watching other climbers crush outside a. makes me want to go and climb outside and not do homework. and b. makes me realize that we're um only slightly crazy. We climb big things with only 4 inches of foam between us and the ground if we fall. Right. Very brilliant.

Epic Journey VI: The Summit 1

2011-12-15T08:09:00.000-08:00

I did it! The first summit. The Exam is finished and emailed off to the prof, and now, it's on to the next hill. The downhill stretch isn't long--there just isn't time for it, and the next peak, it's higher than the first was.
I can do this. I can do this.

Art the Unsure

Epic Journey V.5: In which I get distracted watching climbing videos instead of finishing the exam.

2011-12-15T08:02:00.001-08:00

I think the title says it all. I should never have posted those videos. (Check out Energetic Young Men)

Epic Journey V: The Morning

2011-12-15T05:54:00.000-08:00

All good things must come to an end. And that includes the glory of sleep.

You wake up, and it's morning. You know that this is the time when you should be leaving your warm hut and continuing on the journey, but breakfast calls, then time to read by the fire, and you know what you're doing is wrong, but it feels so right, so you do it.

Epic Journey IV: The Waypoint

2011-12-14T22:38:00.000-08:00

(This was originally Epic Journey III)

You've done it. You've made it through the first day, and you see that hut on the top of the hill where you're going to spend the night. Inside, there is a warm fire, and maybe even company, but most importantly of all, there is a soft, warm bed waiting for you. That bed is your refuge, that place where you can go when things look rough, and by the time you wake up, everything is good again.

Epic Journey III.5: Realization 2

2011-12-14T22:19:00.000-08:00

When did I start to feel like a grownup?

Epic Journey III: The Problem with Austerity

2011-12-14T21:51:00.000-08:00

As a student, you often run into the concept of austerity. Life, and often finances, are such that you live a life that is much less ostentatious than you might wish it to be. During certain times of the year, you retreat into your cave and don't come out except for midnight food scavenging runs and ambushes on the printer when it is time for that. But, in theory, you deny yourself the simple pleasures of life, like dessert or TV time, and there is a point at which you crack and after that, it's all downhill. You spend inordinate amount of time on Hulu and Wikipedia, researching totally irrelevant things, much like you do during NaNoWriMo, but this time, you're even more distracted, because you've been depriving yourself for so long. That's not even counting the chocolate binges that are sure to come, at least if you get your hands on the money to procure chocolate, even the cheap chocolate. Your mind slowly melts away, wishing that you had more time or more motivation and you weren't writing long and rambling a pointless blog posts, but it's useless. That's the price of Austerity.

Epic Journey II: Realization

2011-12-14T21:13:00.001-08:00

It's late, and you're freezing your ass off. You don't know why you decided to make your Epic Journey into cold places, as you're not a huge fan of the cold, but then you remember. It's December. That's why it's cold.

Epic Journey: Motivation

2011-12-14T19:12:00.000-08:00

There are times in the life of every intrepid explorer that they must stop and consider their motivation. Why do I want to do this? Why shouldn't I be off doing something like watching TV or sleeping? That's the big question to answer, right now. I currently sit at 682 out of what will end up being about 1500 words... which is where I need to get by midnight, and I am questioning why I'm not getting this done, why I'm still sitting here after all this time.

The Haze of Academia: In which I embark on an epic journey of 10,000 words into nonfiction

2011-12-13T18:33:00.000-08:00

The title says it all. I handwrote 9 pages in 2 hours today for my last in class exam, and now, I am about to embark on the epic journey, as it says in the title, of writing two papers, one take home exam, one reflections essay, and one set of comments to the BLM. Not in that order.
Yup. Here I go, into that hazy world in which so much happens and not as much is possible as in fiction.

Wish me luck. If I survive, I'll tell you a little more about The Letter from Last Friday.

Art the Intrepid

Ephemera: Life Changing Letters

2011-12-09T19:00:00.001-08:00

In my closet, there hung a cream sheet of paper with a post written on it in pencil. I wrote it last year, about this time, and the words I wrote are telling.

I'd try to imagine how I'd be feeling right now. Elation and joy, of course. The thrill of the unknown. Nerves at leaving my childhood home. But when I imagined them, they never felt quite like this. I'm on top of the world.

Truth is, I'm still in shock. I think the top of the world feeling will come tomorrow, will come later, will come when I've processed everything that just happened.

But things are never going to be the same.

Just Shoot Me Now

2011-12-08T18:33:00.001-08:00

Procrastination.

It's because of you that I'm turning in my card as a writer.

Well, that and the internet.

But it's true!!!

If not for you, I'd enjoy writing. As it is, writing is one of those things where you want to faceplant face onto keyboard repeatedly--and sadly, it'd probably come up with better results than the actual writing is.

You know, I totally wasn't going to post until finals was over, just because I knew it would turn into another one of those rants about procrastination, but yeah... I couldn't resist.

So here's my card. Here is my badge, too, to get me into the secret writer's lounge that I've never actually visited but have heard it is really cool.

Wait... why do we have a card and a badge? Isn't that a little redudant?

The End Is In Sight

2011-12-05T13:36:00.001-08:00

This is it ladies and gents...my last week of college...EVER! Or until I decide I no longer hate it and continue on for my Master's. Like that will ever happen. I probably shouldn't say that without the appropriate conviction. But what a ride it turned out to be. I feel like that kid coming off the rollercoaster for the first time: a strange twisted expression that's mostly relief they weren't killed and a little near-disappointment that it's finally over. Now to figure out what to do with myself next! That will be the fun part. Wish me luck.

Sad.

2011-12-03T10:01:00.001-08:00

One of the local consignment stores, one that consistently has typewriters, is going out of business.

Excuse me why I go be bummed. It's always hard when an awesome local business can't make it.

ONE YEAR!!!!!?

2011-11-30T20:58:00.001-08:00

Can you believe it? A year ago M and I made our first posts. I, for one, have to say thank you to the Typosphere for embracing us. For me, at least, it's so great to feel a part of a community outside my little world.

This year has been a year of up and downs. We've had some awesome memes (cowcasts and the Rhinos), and some sad times (my truck getting wrecked right after discovering Parry's office supplies.) But it's been a very good year. I'm thankful for that.

In which I fall in love with a Lamy Safari

2011-11-29T14:37:00.001-08:00

I held off on buying one until the day I found a shop I where I could try it in person. Sure, all you in the typosphere have raved about your Safaris, but I was skeptical. But, the good thing is that you all were right. I tried the Safari, and a week or two later (can't remember exactly), I went and bought my pink one.

Well, it's taken me a while to really tell if I like it or not. Sure, there are quirks that I still done love, like the fact that it's not happy writing in an upright position or that the grip forces me to use that proper position like my teachers taught. But overall, wow. It hangs out in my bag, occaisionally being inverted, and it hasn't yet leaked or gotten messy. It writes well on a plane or on the ground, and doesn't feather (although I'm not thrilled with it in a Moleskine... or maybe it is just the ink.) But yeah. It's awesome. I'm now one of those people who carries a fountain pen with them everywhere, just to be cool like that.

That's all for now. :)

Woot Procrastination

2011-11-28T18:21:00.001-08:00

Yup. I have a precis of a paper due in the morning and I haven't started. I haven't even done the research. Woot!

Yay for being a procrastinator.

And sad news in that November is almost over. I need to get the SCSS fixed so I can at least type a page and say that I'm something of a Brigadier.

Okay, rambling is over. Sometime soon, I'm going to do my NaNoWriMo writeup and then we'll go from there...

Thanksgiving Weekend

2011-11-23T16:36:00.001-08:00

There was a time when I'd spend Thansgiving writing my butt off for NaNoWriMo. This year, like a few of the years past, I don't know if I'll be doing that. Unlike most of my comrades, I hit 50K and then I stopped this year.

So, what will I be spending my Thanksgiving weekend doing?
The following, and in this order:
A research project on the various high altitude adaptions of global populations
A project examining the effects of the young male population in modern china, and the propensity for revolution
And finally, a project detailing water rights and issues surrounding them and food security in Utah and beyond.

They're due in that order, starting Dec. 7 and one a week after that. And there is a thesis I wrote... yeah, it really needs to be done, and my application for a masters program--my backup if I don't get into medical school this year.

So I just want to let you know that I may not be around for a while, you know? Trying to get all of this done may well drive me crazy, but that's okay. :)

Cheers.

A

Virginia Bird

2011-11-21T10:37:00.001-08:00

According to my mother I get my ability to read and write, really read and write, from her mother and her mother before her. As a little girl I uncovered snippets of information about this long-lost lady of my past, Nana. The color blue. Roses. The most beautiful name: Virginia Bird. Dancing in nightgowns. A love of ellipses. Colts. A twin sister. Homemade bread. The color of winter wheat. Bright lipstick. Bolivia. Lymphoma. And impossibly tiny cursive handwriting. I put away her descriptive legacy for a rainy day, and remained oblivious. It rained this weekend and I stretched and dragged it out again and began the months long process. I pored over those crisp and gracious letters and transcribed until my back and neck shouted complaints, but oh, what a story I found:

She finished college with six children in tow. She spent a night in a truck bed on a ferry floating the Amazon river. She thought it beautiful, not inconvenient. She was a world away when her mother died, and she knew. She called my mother, her surprise, her seventh, Janie. She wrote about my birth and held me even though it hurt. She left not long after. She was a Rodeo Queen. She forgot her wedding dress and made everyone an hour late. They honeymooned camping on horseback in Yellowstone. She sang opera, beautifully. She wrote letters to her stubborn sons in all caps. She served on the school board. She ran away to the library, twice, when she just couldn't stand her kids for one more minute. Each time she returned bearing picture books. She did cartwheels in a dress at age 58. She was lovely. She was lively.

And I know what I need to write now.

Holy hell what a day.

2011-11-17T10:32:00.001-08:00

Okay, it's been a little over a day. And it involved 12,310 words. But I FINISHED! I matched my time from way back in 2007. 17 days. Yay. Finishing like this means I get to check out this consignment shop I've been eyeing...

Wow. What a feeling.

Okay, going to watch my rhino play with his new wings. And to get a real rhino for pictures today!

In which I lose faith in local stationary shops

2011-11-16T16:30:00.001-08:00

I went to the stationary shop I always go to to get my letterpress thank you cards. Yeah. Fail. They didn't have them. And the staff were rude today. I'd already gone to one other today, and they didn't have any I liked either. I was even ready to go with just plain cards, not my favorite:

Sadly, I have not found any I like yet. Going to have to figure something else out. :P Going to start looking for other places to shop.

0 word day

2011-11-14T21:14:00.001-08:00

You read it. 0 words. Zero. Cero. Trippy, no?

Stuck

2011-11-10T21:40:00.001-08:00

Day 10 update.

I'm stuck. I outlined in October and now I can't look at it without getting nervous. that's not a good thing. See, Clemens, your side isn't always better. In the course of today, I've gone from two ideas to do four, the latest involving a merry band of woodland ninjas facing a sock shortage who decide to become pirates. Whoo.

Eight hundred words until I hit 30k. Then I sleep.

The Hump

2011-11-08T21:53:00.001-08:00

Eight days in and I crossed 25k. I can do this.
Now, to sleep... perchance to dream... oh wonderful world of new ideas.

Two Things

2011-11-07T13:28:00.000-08:00

1. Best Friend + engagement ring = psychotic phone calls, all sorts of tears, and one serious sucker punch to my well-prepared-yet-still-wussy gut

2. all you Nanowrimo crazies? CARRY ON! YOU MAKE ME PROUD! (may I have time next year to actually join your ranks)

Everybody! Everybody!

2011-11-01T06:35:00.000-07:00

It's November! It's November!

Time to Write! Time to Write!

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tomorrow, tomorrow...

2011-10-31T08:09:00.001-07:00

NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow!!!!!!!!!! Betcha bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be writee... ing!!!!

Random

2011-10-25T21:19:00.001-07:00

Even though I'm usually a dedicated pantster and a member of #teampantsless, still, this planning thing can honestly be kinda fun...

Sigh

2011-10-24T08:11:00.001-07:00

So I'm reworking the book and it reminds me why I do not like editing. Timelines are a bite, and figuring out where everything fits may lead me to yet another year of pantsing and putting finishing this novel off.
Maybe I should just pants this one as well... that's the problem with loving a novel. You can love it too much, making it tough to give it the tough love it needs.

Spaz

2011-10-23T17:38:00.001-07:00

*Whistles a bit*

Yup, the blog is as empty as my mind used to be.

Now I'm moving on to a full rewrite of my novel. Not just going to write the new section for NaNo '11. I'm going to rewrite the whole damn thing. And it's going to be awesome.

And then there was light...

2011-10-17T19:09:00.000-07:00

The clouds opened up, and within, I could see the shining nugget that was inspiration.

Yea, and though the source was not new, the inspiration was, and it is a beautiful thing.

Finally, after 4 years, this is an idea that may come to completion.

Or at least closer to it.

Let November come.

We will be ready.

Word of Explanation

2011-10-13T17:22:00.000-07:00

When I write things like Apprehension, don't worry.
Like the words of the song say, Never Mind Me
I'm probably looking at the sky, trying to find a reason why...
Me writing these things are nothing sinister.
Writing is my release, my way of letting go of the fears that might hold me back.
It lays down the foundation for greatness... greatness stepping on stones of things that once were walls.

Procrastination

2011-10-11T11:45:00.000-07:00

Guess I could call it practice for NaNo.

Yup. Solitaire. Internet TV. Firefly Reruns. You name it, I've done it these past weeks. You'd think it would be easy to stop.

But it's not.

It's a drug.

Procrastination.

Writer's Drug of Choice.

Complete with harsh side effects like angry editors and self-loathing.

Get yours today!

Apprehension

2011-10-07T14:47:00.000-07:00

Used to be I felt excitement.
The tingly kind, where you can't wait, like Christmas morning.
But this year, I feel something different, something new.

Apprehension.

Looks like an innocuous word, right?
It's not. It's like fear. A word that conveys so much in so little and I don't like it.

It's what I'm feeling this year.

Sure, nerves are nothing new. I've felt that for a few years now.
But
This year, I'm unsure.

Unsure if I'll be able to do it.
Unsure if I'll come up with an idea.

The list could go on, but what it boils down to is
Apprehension.

D-Day is 23 days away.

Maybe it is because there are bigger things to worry about, bigger fish to fry.
Hopefully that is the case, and come November 1, the words flow like they always do.
Let's hope that is the case.

~theanab

Little Girls and Big Books

2011-10-03T08:02:00.000-07:00

I got to know a tiny little girl a little bit better this weekend. Her name is Josie and she's the most stubborn 1 1/2 year old I've ever had the privilege to meet. She has big brown eyes and wavy brown hair and a rusty diaper from riding in the Radio Flyer. She loves her Uncle Ben best and refuses to nap. She wears her parents out and wants to do it all and all her own way. She won me over by bringing me "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" to read to her rather than the asinine children's books they print these days. I kissed the top of her head and wished her good wishes because I was that little girl once with the defiant tilt of a chin and big books in hand that made me angry because I couldn't read them yet. I can most certainly read them now; they make up the conglomerate of my life. So, Josie, stick to the big books and keep your enormous will. You'll need them. Oh, how you are going to need them.

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present...

2011-09-27T10:48:00.000-07:00

THE PINK LAMY SAFARI!

As the teaser suggests, I did it.

Granted, I did end up paying more than I would have through Goulet or Jetpens, but still. I have the satisfaction of being able to shop local.

Though, I am going to virtually slap LFP and MT Coalhopper for introducing me to the Goulet site--I'd never been there before, and that was probably a good thing. :P

So.. here's the specs.

Paid $35.00 for it, 4.95 for the converter, and 4.50 for a pack of cartridges because I was impatient and thought I'd get a chance to use it before I got home where there is ink. (I didn't, but oh well. I now have Lamy Blue-Black Ink on hand and in the pen!) Bout a five to eight dollar difference when you consider shipping, but that's okay.
The color is closest to the picture from Goulet above--my phone couldn't get the color right, and I don't know where my card reader is for my camera. But truth is, it's just pretty. It'll be really pretty with black ink.

But above all:
It's pink.

In the shop, the pen had a medium nib on it. This is the great thing about small stores--the guy (I think the owner's son) replaced it with a Fine nib from another pen for me. No charge.

So... writing with it... it's different experience. The Fine Nib is pretty fine--my Waterman is a broad medium nib, while my Schaeffer is spidery and cool. I'm glad I didn't go with the extra-fine nib. I like superfine points for my cramped notes handwriting, but at that same time, a fountain pen isn't the best medium for that sort of writing--I tend to hold the pen more upright, and very close to the end. A fountain pen, especially one that is specifically shaped like the Lamy, doesn't so much allow me to do that, but I'm okay with that. Makes it perfect for the more relaxed writing I like when I'm drafting. I might order a medium nib, just for variety and maybe even a bold--remember, I love a bold line on yellow paper--but we'll see where things goes.

I got to say--I know why you all love these pens. I'm glad I made the purchase and supported a local shop. I also talked to the guy there, and he said I'd be great to come in and take pictures! Means some advertising for them, which is cool. I like helping local businesses. I'm excited for this pen. I think good things are to come!!!

Teaser

2011-09-26T17:53:00.000-07:00

The Dilemma

2011-09-26T07:44:00.001-07:00

It's a simple one, really. A question of maybe nine dollars, at least right now.
I'm buying a lamy safari. I decided this last week. But, here is my question.
Do I pay more to support the local stationary shop, or do I give in to the man and buy it online and save some money?
I'm torn. Honestly. I like money and having it, which is an argument for ordering. And, more waiting might make me appreciate it more (although I have already waited nearly a week.). But, buying local is better for the environment and does good to support the cute old man who owns the shop. And he has a pink one. I like pink.
I think I know what I'm going to do... anyone else want to chime in?

Look what I found!!!!!!!

2011-09-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

I will be posting pictures when I go back to buy a Lamy Safari--I now understand what the fuss is about. He has Clairefontaine too. And lots of other stuff. Nearly forty years in business..

Course, less than 20 minutes after I left this place, some dude totaled his truck on mine, so the day went kinda wonky after that... But still. I've got something to look forward to.

I'm ALIVE...I think

2011-09-20T14:34:00.000-07:00

So...as for where I've been: new semester, new relationship, first illness of the season. That pretty much sums up my complete lack of brain power. Wow.
Anyway, the new semester brought me an awesome new opportunity: to be on the staff of my university's student literary journal. I'm already hooked. We meet weekly, feed each other gourmet foods (i.e. pancakes, curried chicken, chips and salsa...whatever we have on hand), and talk poetry, short stories, and essays. Submissions will start arriving soon and I can't wait. I'll be editing the poetry. I'm going to miss this when I graduate. There will be fewer opportunities to have discussions like these; to spend time with people who think about these things. I'm trying my hardest to relish every second.

Pokes M

2011-09-19T08:19:00.001-07:00

Where the hell are you, lady? We miss you! Everyone has had to put up with me for far too long...

Yours,
A

Viente y seis

2011-09-15T11:07:00.000-07:00

It's up to 26 today. Wait, better add two more to that number. Every time I check my email I just toss a few more on the pile. Today was supposed to be my day to write all 12 of those, but now with the pile reaching up to 28, my time went to watching TV and working on all the parts of the application that didn't involve writing essays. The good thing is that a lot of those parts are done now... but I still have the essays to write.

Maybe I should get on them... Okay, new question: What should be my reward to myself for finishing them?

We could be rich!

2011-09-14T08:09:00.000-07:00

...If only we could find a cure for Writer's Block.

Yup, I'm suffering from it. I've got 12 essays of varying length to write for applications, and I'm stuck on them. Sure, I've got a few ideas, but when I sit down and write them, they fizzle. Badly. I know I've complained about this before, but it sucks! I need inspiration, and quickly--the essays just keep piling up. Five of those 12 came in today.

So, I'm going to ask you all again, as I've probably done in the past. HELP! What do you do to get rid of Writer's Block?

Yay NaNoWriMo!

2011-09-06T20:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, couldn't help myself. What with LFP posting her call about NaNo, i just thought I'd share the love. I'm heading into year five, and am kinda excited about it... That said, it might turn into last year again, where I make 50K and stop writing, but still... It's writing, right?

So are you all this excited for this too?

Getting caught up

2011-08-31T08:40:00.000-07:00

With school back in session and my finally having more than five minutes in the morning on the computer, I just thought I'd let you know that I'll be around more from now on. I'll be finishing up the Vignette Challenge posts, and have a few ideas up my sleeve that I hope you'll like. Of course, I could just be psyching all of you out like I've done many times before, but hopefully, that doesn't end up being the case.

Yup, that's about it for the update right now.

I'm going to go back to working on the complete rewrite of my 2007 preNaNo project.

Cheers.

The best thing about being back...

2011-08-25T09:58:00.000-07:00

...is the obligatory trip to the bookstore for those important supplies!!! Course, my campus bookstore isn't as great as Strikethru's, but it's not that bad...

Now, this year, they didn't have everything that I was looking for, like my favorite legal pads, but I didn't do too bad...

So, take a look at the haul, all $386 of it...

Five books for one class. Looks like it's going to be fascinating, but still. It's a lot of reading.

Got the last copy of this one. The new edition comes out next year, with this one being over 10 years old, so you'd expect some used copies, right? Nope. Had to buy it new.

As I work on this post, I'm waiting for this last class to start. The prof just walked in... But the books look fascinating.

Besides the required books, I also scored a few fun things.

Like this new Zebra fountain pen. Never seen them before, never seen a review of them, but it looks pretty... although when I did a writing test (full review to be posted soon), I'm not quite sure how I like it. Maybe I just like the weight of a nicer fountain pen... but $4.99 was cheap!

I've also fallen in love with the look of a broad line on yellow paper... So, there are two pads of yellow paper in my stash, as well as some new broad points.

I scored a few new pens and a clicky highlighter.

And of course, a pad of one of my favorite papers.

And, last, but of course, not least, a new General's Layout Pencil. As you can see in the picture below, the last one I bought is growing shorter by the day. I love this pencil.

And thus concludes the tour de supplies for this semester... or at least this first week. I'm sure I'll be picking more up as the semester goes along...

Happy Book - August Edition

2011-08-22T00:00:00.000-07:00

Because I go back to school in a week, this is all you get. I have no brain. Enough said.

a second chance
LAVA HOT SPRINGS
the Chuckwagon, the scandal, the ambulance, the river rafting...
two hours of cheesy Taylor Swift sing-a-long with the Bartman
and the resulting voice loss
Polynesian dance
discovering the teacher I've been all along
passing notes
coming home late to the blessed relief of oreos on the kitchen counter
being told I clean up well and a guy staring just confirming it
three fat kittens on my lap all at once
the mossy swimming hole
Chick and Bandit, oh the doggy devotion
eight-year Ginger driving me on the four wheeler, I thought I was going to die
goat meat
sleeping on the screened porch listening to sprinklers, trains, coyotes, and Uncle Steve baling hay
the laundry rock and the view that goes with it
hunting the broody chicken
birthday plotting
Dad

We apologize for The interruption...

2011-08-16T21:17:00.001-07:00

...your regularly scheduled program will resume shortly... once I'm done working twelves and have time to.type up the rest of my vignettes.

Enjoy what's here... more good stuff to come!

On Losing Family

2011-08-12T00:00:00.000-07:00

It's funny who becomes our family. Half the time, they're not blood at all, but something better. Friends. They say blood is thicker than water, but friendship is thicker than both, and I heartily agree. Not having siblings of my own, I've adopted family from all over. People come into our lives, and if we embrac them, they can surely change ours lives.

There's a song from Wicked that I love.

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...

You never really think about what someone means to you until they're gone, right? You might see them everyday and say I love you, but that's it. You don't tell them thank you, thank you for all of the things that they've given you or the way they've changed your life.

For me, the saying goodbye is the hardest part. Death, while but the next great adventure, is tough. Even though it isn't the end, while the spiral just continues on, at the time, it feels so final. I always come back to the same Big and Rich song at times like this.

It's complicated, when love has faded
And you can't hold on anymore
You gotta let go even though you know
Your heart's gonna hate it
And it just might break it

The only solution, is making the conclusion
That it's just another lesson in life
Even though it's over,
it's never really over at goodbye
No matter how hard you try

[Chorus:]
You never stop loving somebody
No matter what you tell yourself
You never stop loving somebody
You just, start loving somebody else

I've cried my tears, and now, it's time to celebrate a life. The life that gave me two of dearest friends, the ones who have been there when all my human friends have gone away. I'll see you on the other side, mama horse.

I have him because of her.

I guess there is just one last thing to say...

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

Fear

2011-08-11T07:36:00.000-07:00

Written a few days ago...

Close your mind to sentiment and your heart to feeling.
Run, run faster than you've ever run before.
Hide away, lock yourself away from the pain that is sure to come.
Forget the joy, the sorrows, the laughter, forget it all.
Embrace the unfeeling twilight.
Embrace the fall.

Pilgrimage

2011-08-08T12:57:00.000-07:00

I fully understand why repetition is such a part of religion. I walk these trails, swim these lakes, climb these mountains, and search this feeling out in the same order, every year. It is my trip to Mecca, my cathedral, and my Wailing Wall. My pilgrimage begins in a drive to the top of the world and a small descent into a dimple in it. My supplicant steps take me over the flats and to Ferron, Deep, Duck, and Emerald waters respectively. I bow to the family trees and meditate in the fields of indian paintbrush and count my riches in the creeks running gold. And the rhythm gained here lasts the year...my pilgrimage is complete.

Hands II

2011-08-05T00:00:00.001-07:00

Written Wed Sep 10, 2008, 11:15 AM

I take a second look at my hands, and I see more than i saw the first time.
They've been ripped up from doing work on the house, long red marks where the blisters have popped and the skin hasn't quite healed yet. There's white bits of skin too, loose skin that I'm constantly picking at. There's scrapes and slashes from the world, where I've been doing construction where and a loose nail just happens to catch on my skin, or a errant dog claws tends to find a home, long lines on my arm.
Looking at my hands, I wonder if I'm going the right place in my life. Would I be better as an artist, finding time to paint and to sculpt, always having clay under my nails? I see my fingers and feel the strength in them, strength that lets me throw a damn sexy pot on the wheel. I wonder if working with clay all the time is the way that i should go, or if people is more my style. The, I remember what I was doing a few days ago, remember why I chose the path that i was on.
It's still raining outside, and I can feel the coldness of the support pillar against my back as I lean on it and drink my coffee. I'm here, sitting, watching the people at the museum, again, knowing why i do what I do.
But back to the hands again, hands that can span ten white keys on the piano without thinking, hands that love to play jazz and blues and everything in between. These are hands that are more than just a writers hands, more than just the hands of a sometimes horse trainer and potter. They're not just working hands. They are hands that hold a story in their depths, each crease, each line and scar a memory, a tattoo with a better story.

Hands I

2011-08-03T00:00:00.000-07:00

Written Sun Aug 17, 2008, 5:51 PM

I wonder it would be like if someone were to change bodies with me and see my hands.
They aren't the hands of someone who spends a life inside, fingers white and soft, the nails manicured. No, my hands are those what have done a day's work outside.
But if someone were to look at my hands, what would they say? Would they comment in the numerous scars from years of playing with knives and other tools, the burns from ropes, the calluses of a shovel, and the fine lines the sun and clay leave in someone's hands. I've got long fingers perfect for playing the piano, and the strength in them from long years of doing just that.
My nails aren't perfect--and i don't want them to be that way. I'd rather have paint and clay under my nails than the perfect French Manicure every day.
I look down at my hands right now, and I see many things. There is the scar on the back of my right hand from where I got hit with a garbage can, and the three white scars on my thumb from metal ribs and glass when casting one of my first glass sculptures. I've got blisters from remodeling, angry red patches that hurt when I type, but remind me of the happy work that I've been doing.
I've got calluses, too, calluses from long days using a shovel and a pitchfork, calluses and scars from the effects of baling twine and hauling hay. Mine are working hands, and I like that about them. I like the constant black smudges from ink and the perpetual hard spot on my middle finger that comes from writing with a fountain pen.
I wouldn't trade my hands with anyone.

GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLL!

2011-08-02T00:00:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm missing World Cup Soccer. <3 watching it on Univision, where the announcers make the Goal last for 30 seconds or longer. I haven't had the time to get any sort of soccer fix, truth be told, but that's okay, because I achieved a goal of my own!

Last year, I wrote that I wanted to tighten up my writing, to remove the fluff and crap that had long been the bane of my sometimes existence. Well, I've officially done that. Try cutting words to make character counts out of pieces that are super tight. IT SUCKS! But, it's definite improvement--last year, they were so fluffy that it is now nauseating.

Yup, just wanted to give a shoutout to myself.

Now, I may well go find some fútbol to watch.

Cheers

Programming Note

2011-07-31T19:02:00.001-07:00

Due to lack of time and computer access for the time being, I'm going to be posting the rest of my vignettes in August, as they're not conducive to being published on my mobile. Please forgive me for being tardy with this, but life gets in the way sometimes.
Cheers

12 - Simplicity

2011-07-29T21:38:00.001-07:00

Tree blows in the wind
Leaves twist in sweet melody
Life in harmony

Once - Fire on the Mountain

2011-07-28T05:10:00.000-07:00

Fauxcast using Mr. Polt's Byron Mark I Font.

#10 - Hands III

2011-07-26T05:45:00.000-07:00

This is an iteration of an old theme... Come August, you'll see my work from 3 years ago on the subject.

There's a new callus forming on my right hand, this one on the webbing between my thumb an fingers--from the rope constantly sliding through. It just adds character, along with the countless other calluses I've got.
There's a new scar too. Looks like someone tried to take a bite out of my hand, like when my dad got bit trying to break up a dog fright years ago. Mine's from the wall. It sits in a different plane than my scar from California, where I did nearly the same thing, but on sea rocks when our bridge was washed out by the tide and we were forced to jump for it. To this day, I saw the seawater kept it from getting infected.
In this light, my veins seem to melt fully into the muscle--normally, they are an ER tech's dream--big and defined, waiting to be poked. But tonight, they are quiet and everything is smooth. just the scars as a landmark in the map of the places that I've been.

#M4 - The View from the Ice Cream Churn

2011-07-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

As a child I hated this job: it was nother better than captivity with a cold bum. I would slouch and scowl and sulk over the latest exclusion by my sister and her age appropriate cousin-playmate, something I lacked in this branch of family. Dad would usually lose patience with my dour face and threaten to make me churn rather than serve as precarious ballast for the ancient, rickety ice cream churn. That shut me up fast. But I hated that job. I know better now.
My cold bum tingles and I stuggle to stay aboard as the ice cream hardens and the churn bucks and shivers. Dad is groaning and trying to pressgang some boy cousin into taking over. I scrunch my toes and pry up deck slivers. Grandma fusses and swipes at passing faces with her ever handy damp rag. Small Ella staggers past, trying to keep up with all the other littles. She trips over my feet and tries again. Liv and Luz twirl for Grandpa. He hums Vivaldi under his breath. The interrogating aunts have congregated and my sister is hunting for cover. The Jeremy Uncle is probably ensconced in the bathroom. Uncles Tim and Dal taunt my sore-armed father. Boy cousins play Annie-Ay-Over and the Sarah cousin defeats them all. There is the thrum of babies and fifty-six feet and the clatter of dishes and misguided balls. There is us and we and a symphony and then there is ice cream and me in the middle. And it is good. It is good.

Nine - Contention

2011-07-24T00:00:00.000-07:00

"My ass hurts."
"You're the one who fell."
"Thought you were going to catch me."
"What?" Dave asks, walking into the conversation, "just happened?"
"He dropped me!" Call shouts, pointing at McCoy in an indignant fashion.
"That's what you get for for not tying your bloody knot properly." McCoy retorts, "Not all my fault."
"Yeah, but you should have checked the damn knot! Didn't you learn anything?!"Call says, face going even more red.
Dave just shakes his head, turning away from them and sitting down at the desk. They never learned.

Ocho - Desert

2011-07-23T05:33:00.000-07:00

The sage is in bloom in the desert. Afternoon breeze carries the small across the sand, mixing with the piñon and juniper as it comes. The smell wakes up my memory, and I'm there again, 10 years old and kneeling in the sand. There's a lizard in the sage next to me, and I'm trying to capture him on film. Only he isn't cooperating, the reluctant celebrity pursued by paparazzi. So I wait. Somewhat patiently, my behind warm on the sandstone, camera ready for that moment when he pops his head out.

Numero 7: Energetic Young Men

2011-07-20T06:38:00.000-07:00

Fauxcast typed with Mr. Polt's Royal Vogue Font.(click link to download font!) Based on a conversation I overheard at my gym.
And, as there is confusion, here are some videos of bouldering, most in my backyard.(Neither AdC or myself are responsible for the content, if it's not totally appropriate. I tried to screen them, but yeah. Stuff happens.)

Just Beautiful

No. Six: Opener

2011-07-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, folks, a preface to this. I'm thinking about using the following vignette as the opening for the personal statement of my medical school application.

It was the day before Christmas Break, 2010.
"Paul, try to be calm."
"I'm not calm! I'm not calm!" Paul shouts, dancing around, icing bag in hand. I instinctively duck as a stream of icing lands on his gingerbread house with a splat, obliterating the icicles we had just finished adding to the roof line. "Oops." He says, sitting back down with a thud, "Avalanche." He sticks two pretzels and a marshmallow snowman onto the icing and turns to me with a satisfied grin.
"What's he doing?" I ask.
"Skiing."
His logic was sound, and all I could do was laugh.

Okay, folks, I need your opinions. BE HONEST, PLEASE! Would you keep reading an essay that started with this, or would you just throw it aside, citing my writing as juvenile and the subject matter totally irrelevant? I plan on linking my love of teaching to medicine, but that comes in the next paragraph.

PLEASE HELP!

#M3 - Grape Hyacinth

2011-07-18T12:36:00.000-07:00

Once I was a Goddess and made my home in the roots of the snowball bush: shoots for walls, violets for my carpet, apricot blossoms for my chandelier, and wallpapered it all with tall grasses and the stems of the forsythia. My fingers sunk into the green and the soft of the earth and I slept and swung and sang; invisible dryads for dolls. I kicked my heels toward the leaves. I perched in the apple tree. I counted the flowers and what they meant: Magnolia for an uplifted heart; Lilacs for womanly grace; Pear for softness and Apple for refuge; Lavender meant sunlight and Grape Hyacinths were for imagination; Dollar Plants for stories; Sage and Dill for calm and humor. Johnny Jump Ups meant indomitable good cheer. And Buttercups were the souls of fairies.
I hung upside down from the clothesline poles, I jumped from stone to stone, and stripped the raspberry brambles of their fragile fruit. I made the sky my cathedral and the water in the pond my marble floor. I wove the branches of the pine to make my pavilion; the arms of the sycamores my thicket; and I was a doe, a fox, a hare, a red wing blackbird.

Five - Circles

2011-07-16T09:47:00.000-07:00

The other day, while scrounging for change to pay for chalk, I came up with the following idea...

The Circles of Wealth.

It starts with prosperity.

In the fourth circle, you're giving a ton of money away. And spending. And saving.

The third circle is when you've started to give money away, as well as spend and save beyond what you did in the second circle.

The second circle is when you start to save some money, as well as spend it.

In the first circle, you finally have some money to spend, which is what you do.

That brings us to flush, when you're making ends meet. You probably can't spend a ton of money on fun stuff, but you're not worried about paying the bills.

After flush comes broke, and the corresponding circles.

The first circle of broke is when you're down to your last 20 dollars to cover what you need to cover.

In the second circle, you're breaking the piggy bank and looking in the couch for change to cover the cost of your morning coffee.

By the time you hit the third circle, you're also hitting your savings account to live.

The fourth circle is when you hit your stash, that emergency cash you've put away for years... or not.

In the fifth circle, you're selling things to get by, and may or may not be living out of your car.

And the sixth circle of broke? It's one that sometimes goes hand in hand with other circles, depending on where you are in life... You move back in with your parents and start making your way back to flush and beyond.

And the circle continues.

What is a Vignette?

2011-07-16T06:19:00.000-07:00

Well, halfway through the challenge, this question has been coming up: what is a vignette?

From Wikipedia:
In theatrical script writing, sketch stories, and poetry, a vignette is a short impressionistic scene that focuses on one moment or gives a trenchant impression about a character, an idea, or a setting and sometimes an object. This type of scene is more common in recent postmodern theater, where less emphasis is placed on adhering to the conventions of theatrical structure and story development. Vignettes have been particularly influenced by contemporary notions of a scene as shown in film, video and television scripting.

Personally, I see the vignette as something a bit lighter. A snapshot, if you will, of a person, place, time, event, thought, or feeling. It could be an essay, a poem, a journal entry, or even a script like Snohomish posted the other day. I always see it like a vignette picture--you're looking through the window at whatever is before you.

But the honest truth is:

IT'S WHATEVER YOU WANT IT TO BE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IV: Summer Rain

2011-07-13T07:53:00.000-07:00

Fauxcast using Mr. Polt's Rem-Blick Font

#M2 - Clean

2011-07-11T00:00:00.000-07:00

The water is off for the winter, so it is pot baths in spring water all around. I kneel over the shower drain and pour scoops of scalding water over my back; it takes a meandering path between each of my vertebrae. My hands shake. The fat candle sputters next to me as I dip my hair into the pot. I have to keep washing as I inadvertently pick up more pot black from the base of the kettle. I alternately shiver and burn; I can't help but find it eerie to crouch bare and white in the silver of last light, the forest creeping in through the open window--not a soul to see me.
Strands of wet hair stick to my freckled shoulders and I feel the cleanest of cleans; beautiful. It is only to be found in this spring, these streams, that lake. Clean. Why do clean and dirt and green all crop up in the same thought phrases? I comb my dripping hair in the dim. A hummingbird zips home to sleep. I rub lavender oil into my skin. The cracked mirror gleams. Bag balm for my lips. Lastly I dress: softest of shirts, oldest of shorts. I hear the last pops from the fire pit and the generator roaring to life. I step out into the bedtime bustle.
Pajamas on, beds set out, treats unhidden, the snap and hiss of Black Cherry Shasta cans, the crack of stuck matches, puff and glow of lighting candles. Dark descends. Dad puts on the kettle. We scrounge for cards. Grandpa turns off the generator. And we sit up into the night. Dark and light. Beautiful. And I always win at cards. Beautiful.

Tres: Hot Coffee

2011-07-07T06:08:00.000-07:00

Typed on my 1955 Smith Corona Silent-Super. Oh how I wish this machine was running full steam, rather than mostly out of commission. I forgot how much I love the feel of the SCSS. And, it's a ton more readable than my handwriting--was originally going to pencast this.

Transcript:

Excerpt from the journal of Andrea Wallace, founder of the Bar W Ranch, dated July 1884. The journal was discovered in the attic of the main house during renovations, along with a great deal of early ranch documents an history.

July, 1884.

Woke up cold this morning. Couldn't quite see my breath, but the reminder was there just the same--winter never really leaves this place. Suns not yet up, and I'm sitting by the fire with my coffee, listening to the horses grazing nearby. There's 40 in the bunch, plus whatever the night guard got with them. They should be here soon, wanting their coffee, hot and black. Already got it bubbling on the fire, filling the air with that sweet aroma. Over the ridge is the herd, 500 head of half wild longhorn, heading North to Canada. Been riding drag myself, me and the dogs chasing down the renegades who break off, hell bent on escape. But come daylight, I"ll be riding out front, a welcome escape from the dusty air and dirty water left by the herd. We're heading into my territory now, the rugged mountains and grassy valleys where I was raised. Back to old growth forests and a ranch to spend a few days rest on. We all need it--even Cooky agrees this time. Family'll be there, most likely, at least a few of them. The boys will like that, specially if Ma cooks--Cooky don't got nothin on my mama.

Days about the break. By sundown, we'll be in the Rockies. Can't wait to see them trees.

II - River

2011-07-06T06:13:00.000-07:00

There will be no silence tonight. River's rushing all around, the day's melt finally making it into the valley. Up above, you can finally start to see the mountain peaks under their caps of snow, but it's not all happy. Those snowcaps, waterheavy and dense, melt, sending raging torrents of water downhill. We're at the bottom of the drainage, stuck. It's a catch-22, of sorts. The water is good for us, the land happy, not dry, but there can be too much of a good thing. There is too much of a good thing. I stand by the pond, and watch as the water slowly swallows the road.

#M1 - Western Grebe

2011-07-05T14:52:00.000-07:00

Foothold slats, tall tree, two planks; one knotty rope and the I-pod blasting. My legs tremble in time with the beat. Short guy films; carrot top yells; I swing, squeal, fly, and sink through reflections...deep. The water is cold, the way I like it. It is green, the way I like it. It is silk and vibrations and a welcoming hum. Small fish brush my white legs and my white arms gracefully stroke through lazy mosses. I am slow to leave it, rising to the surface gasping and spitting in the inhospitable air and loud music and cheers; making the grudging change from solitude to togetherness. I slowly revolve in this wet dimple between the swells of alfalfa hills and come face to face with a Western Grebe. The Grebe eyes me and mine irritably and I make chuckle bubbles and he dives. Oh he dives. And I follow. I can't follow far, but suspended I watch him loop and glide out of sight into the furthest, most inscrutable green. And I am left to do my own gliding into the shallowest, churning murk to grab one warm hand and clamber out of the silk and into gravel and noise and dust. I take with me only my quickly quieting rhythmic huffs of clean, green breath. There are claps on my back and the next swinger takes the plunge. Short guy shows me the video and his admiration and I smile but think that the best part is what you can't see for all the ripples.

#1 - Fireworks

2011-07-05T06:10:00.000-07:00

Our neighborhood displays are mostly legal this year, finally. No, we haven't made any changes, but the state finally saw the truth in the matter--prohibition never stopped nobody. So, along with our bootlegged beer we bootlegged fireworks, slipping down back roads and dirt roads, avoiding the cops who sit on the highway at the state line, waiting to confiscate any and all contraband. They're smart, but we're smarter. We stockpile our shows, making Sunday runs across the border long before the 4th, long before the Smokies line 80 waiting for us. The pile grows in the garage, waiting for Independence Day, where we celebrate a longstanding American tradition: a bit of anarchy, throwing some color into the mix of legality. And it sure is a good show.