Where My Brain Goes…

April 9, 2014

Almost 5 hours of tracing Wonder Under today and I still have 200 pieces to go. Out of 1776, that’s not bad. There’s actually more than that, because I have some pieces that are a’s and b’s of the original number. I forgot to number a nose, for instance. I’m getting close, though. That’s good. I’m 19 hours in. It gets to be kind of a slog…I have to force myself to not distract myself with blogs or books or whatever else I’d rather be doing (even cleaning house raised its ugly head, until I beat it into submission).

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I could use the same light-table photo every day and it wouldn’t matter. There is a much bigger pile of Wonder Under sitting on the couch now…6 or 7 yards of the stuff filled up with tiny traced pieces…which then need to be cut out. I made it through all of my saved SVU episodes…it’s easy to trace to SVU because it’s not a difficult plot and they’re all kind of similar after a while, so I don’t really have to watch too hard.

I wanted to be done today, but I have to get up tomorrow because Julie and I are going on a road trip. Julie is good at those. Another two hours though…I’d be done. If I had just started earlier (OK, so it’s not like I did nothing all day…I had errands and the gym and a kid to take to school and I don’t even know what else…I just know I deleted a bunch of stuff off the Spring Break to-do list, and then added twice as many more tasks, because I’m a freakin’ idiot like that).

I had cats helping me all day. Babygirl came in and was lying on the floor for a while. She never does that…and then Midnight, this is her territory in the house, so she was around…

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Couch World is HER world. But Kitten has also been coming in, and she rarely ventures out of my room, so that’s new…

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It’s nice to see her out and about, venturing throughout the house. Babygirl, when she goes to sleep in the early evening, pretty much stays there all night. She doesn’t do a whole lot of rampaging at night any more…it’s mostly in the morning. So Kitten feels safe enough to come out, apparently. That’s cool.

Anyway, I’m feeling kind of brain dead because I haven’t talked to any human beings since 5 PM and I’ve been mostly tracing that entire time, with breaks for dinner and some other stuff, like airline mileage programs and emails and hell, there’s a bunch of computer stuff I haven’t even touched and I really should, and then there’s grading, and I’ve totally blown that off for the last two days. Dammit. Oh well. This is what happens. I get art on my brain and everything else flees before it. This is why I will be a hoarder. This is why my house is not clean. This is why the yard is a disaster. Did Picasso have to do yardwork? Did Matisse need to sweep up the damn leaves? And if they NEEDED to do those things, did they just blow them off, or did someone else do them, or did they use those tasks as breaks from the artmaking? I just don’t know. I want to know if Dali did the laundry. I want to know if Mary Cassatt did the grocery shopping or if Frida Kahlo needed to go buy batteries for the damn smoke alarm. Did Hockney have cats? Who bought the cat food? Did da Vinci go through the pile of mail and recycle the stuff he didn’t need? Who handled Mapplethorpe’s receipts for taxes? Who emptied Georgia O’Keeffe’s fucking litter trays?

I really really want all that stuff to go away. OR. I want someone to help me slog through it all. The to-do list is taking over my brain. I feel guilty when I ignore it and I feel horrible when I let it take time away from making art. There is no happy medium for that. It all just fucking sucks. Girlchild bawled me out yesterday for a pile of papers that I need to deal with that was way too close to the stove and was dangerous. I KNOW. I know. I just have to prioritize, and that stuff…it’s not a fucking priority. I need a secretary. An assistant. Kids that put their dishes in the damn dishwasher.

I barely feel human. I am just the body at the end of the mechanical pencil. I just trace and then I trace some more. My brain literally goes mostly blank when I’m tracing. Part of my brain is paying attention to the TV and the rest is just watching the lines and counting the pieces and deciding what piece goes on top and what piece needs additional space drawn on for the overlap. It’s kind of cool that it’s that all-encompassing, the tracing task. Or not. Maybe it’s disturbing.

I don’t know how I feel about it. The brain is blank. I should be done tomorrow…will start cutting it out then. Probably will take another 20 or so hours…maybe a little less. I usually take less time to cut than to trace. Then ironing…probably not going to get to that before the boy and I leave for New York. Oh well. Life goes on.

All the SVU episodes are gone though. What shall I watch next? Something that doesn’t set off emotional land mines. Ha! There is no such thing.

How do I explain where my brain goes? I don’t. I explain nothing.

My Brain Is Offline

April 8, 2014

Note all the book reviews? What do I do when I can’t think straight? When my brain has wandered off? I read. I hunker down on the couch or in bed with a nice cup of tea and a blankie and a cat or two and sometimes a dog if it’s my day to have her, and I read. I read and read and read, like an addict. Sometimes I think what’s wrong with the world and with people is that they don’t read enough. I have a quote about that somewhere. I’ll find it later…wait, here it is…

By accident, the bound codex taught us sustained focus, abstract thinking, logic. Our natural tendency is to be distracted–to scan the horizon constantly for predators and prospects. Books made us turn that attention inward, to build higher and higher castles within the quiet kingdoms of our minds. Through that process of reflection and deep thinking, we evolved. There was no going back–only ever forward.     –Alena Graedon, The Word Exchange

It’s from one of the books I just finished (but haven’t reviewed yet). I like the idea of reflection happening while I read other people’s stories. I think it’s problematic right now to focus too much on my own story. Too much of it is up in the air. I’ve got nothing to hold onto…except Wonder Under, apparently.

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Yards and yards of Wonder Under. I traced a bit today…and yesterday…and the day before too. I’m about 1100 pieces in, 14 hours so far. Only 650 pieces to go? There were a bunch of other things that went on as well, like a local SAQA meeting, which was interesting. And cleaning my classroom. And a dance performance, which I’ll write about eventually. And the girlchild’s back checkup, which went really well.

But the tracing, I seem to only be able to do it at night. Not sure why. Really do have way too many errands and stupid crap to deal with at the moment. This is not a well-focused holiday, like some have been. It’s sorta chaotic. Oh well. It is what it is.

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It’s like my brain is offline. Maybe it just NEEDS to be offline for a while. Reading, sleeping, exercising. Forgetting half of the dinner ingredients yesterday at the store, going out today for the rest and STILL forgetting one of them. I just can’t keep track of stuff. Too much. My brain is having a mini-revolution. I wish it the best of luck. May it fly a new flag, conquer new lands, maybe even put someone else in charge. Surely I suck at it. Someone else SHOULD take over. Even meditation…shit, it’s just difficult at the moment. I can’t get to the spreading happy bubble of light that’s supposed to start at my center and radiate out. I just get lost in trying to force that. I broke another glass. I dropped it. It just broke. I don’t even know how I dropped it. I almost threw a mug the other day. Got angry at it. What it represented. Just wanted it shattered, like me. Then put it back in the cupboard. Enough with the violence. It doesn’t solve anything.

So the doc pulled one of my diabetes meds. I emailed her a few days ago with all of last week’s crap and she decided one of the meds might be the issue. They took about 10 gallons of blood this morning…the appointment is Friday. I’ve seen some of the results already. Nothing really shocking, although some stuff has changed. The diabetes, it’s like the happy. People tell you that if you do x, y, and z, then the diabetes will go away (then you will be happy). Liars. That’s not how it always works. Sometimes it doesn’t matter what you do, the diabetes is still there, maybe worse. Same with the happy. Just because you follow all the rules, do all the steps, there’s no guarantee that happy will stop by and knock on your door. It’s harder during vacation, because I don’t have all the noise and bustle and distraction of the kids at school. There are too many quiet lonely hours. And I have a ton of stuff to do, so going out and doing stuff isn’t really the solution. Hanging out with more people doesn’t solve my problems. The work I do, the stuff in my head, the stuff that becomes art, it’s such a huge part of me and so few people are around for that…on purpose, mind you. I don’t create well with people around. I’m an independent worker. I don’t want help or company or critiques. I just want to make my art, but at the end of the day, the art isn’t enough to make me happy. There’s some happy mix that works, and I lost that. I had it. I thought I had it. I didn’t have it. Obviously. Because it’s not here.

Vacations are a slap-in-the-face reminder of all that. So I just get through. Hoping to finish the tracing tomorrow and start cutting this stuff out. Not exactly on track, but since my mind left me, I’m not really sure where the track is any more.

Saga Review

April 7, 2014

I recently read Saga Volumes 1 and 2 (Volume 3 just came out), loaned to me by the boychild, written by Brian K. Vaughan, illustrated by Fiona Staples. He had it lying around and I grabbed it because it isn’t often that you see a breastfeeding momma on the front cover of ANY book, let alone a graphic novel…


And one with wings, no less (the mom, not the novel). Anyway, Saga is described as a combo of Star Wars (with which the author is slightly obsessed) and Game of Thrones. I didn’t compare it to either while reading it, but love the crazy alien world and fighting for family interspersed with some seriously funny goofiness…

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Marko really wants to uphold a nonviolent lifestyle, even when it comes to cutting the umbilical cord of his first child, especially now that he’s a daddio. This becomes increasingly difficult when you live in a universe that is being torn apart by war. Vaughan says he first envisioned the series in math class as a kid, and becoming a parent just solidified the story arcs.

After finishing Volume 1, I chased the boychild down for Volume 2…

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And then demanded all future volumes. DAMMIT. There is only one and it just came out. Ah, a mother-son obsession I can get behind. This is a great story…it drives me crazy to have to wait for the collected volumes to come out, of course, but I will survive. We did have a discussion about how it was incredibly inappropriate (sexual innuendo, naked parts, etc.), and how it was good that he was a legal adult (ha!), so I didn’t have to worry about his poor addled brain dealing with all that. There is one monster-like creature with enormous testicles that is disturbing no matter what your age.

That said, Volume 3 will be here shortly (I hope). If he’s lucky, I’ll let him read it after I’m done.

Reviewing The People Inside

April 7, 2014

I recently read Ray Fawkes’ The People Inside, a graphic novel telling the stories of 24 different relationships at the same time…



Each relationship gets one box on a 2-page spread, and all 24 stories take place at the same time. They range from the perfect, happy couple who lives into old age to one dying in an accident, through straight and gay relationships, and normal versus kinda out there. I really liked this, enough that it was difficult to put it down when I had to leave. It was compelling…you wanted to know what would happen in each story, and the emotional range on each page was sometimes painful…from extreme happiness and joy to devastating loss or depression, from just one box to the next. When characters die, their box is black. There’s a definite sense of time passing, of relationships developing and falling apart. Fawkes style is simple and graphic, which supports the complexity of the stories he tells, piling up on each other, page by page.

I had not read his previous One Soul, which is a similar style of graphic novel. The page below is from One Soul.



Just to give you an idea of what his style looks like. I was unable to find any pages from this book online.

I definitely recommend this book, and it’s one that I will read again…which is a rare thing for me…but this one is definitely worth a second read-through.


It Is Where I Am…

April 5, 2014

So it’s officially Spring Break for me (not my kids). It came this year without the huge sense of relief and fanfare that I usually ride into break. I don’t really know why. I know the depression has allowed me (forced me really) to distance myself from my job in some ways. Not from the kids…I am more connected to them this year than I think I ever have been. That’s not to say the year hasn’t been difficult. You can’t possibly be dealing with this incredibly demanding job AND a major depression and grief and not have difficulty. But maybe I can keep my job mostly where it belongs now. Maybe.

That’s the problem with teaching. It’s too damn easy to let it BE your life, especially if you don’t have anything else. Balance has always been difficult for me.

So what did I do on my first evening of break? I cooked dinner. I exercised. I meditated. I graded papers! I know. But it needs to get done, and I’d rather get a chunk of it done now, early in break, so I don’t have to think about it the rest of the time. So a little a day until I get there.

And then I started tracing stuff…I actually started really late at night (AGAIN) and didn’t want to stop (AGAIN), so I finally had to force myself to go to sleep because I knew that there was a bunch of stuff I had to do today…I’m kind of overbooked. Whoops. No brain downtime? Probably a good thing.

Anyway, I traced for a few hours…

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I’m still trying to fill in little pieces into all the weird spaces between the wiggly pieces from the bottom. I hate wasting Wonder Under…I don’t know why. It’s not particularly expensive.

Here’s an example of tracing like pieces together…I had fish on one side of the drawing and fish on the other, so I traced all the same fish parts together: fins, eyeballs, side fins, tail fins…because they will all be the same fabrics, so why cut them out in Wonder Under and then LOSE all the tiny pieces…cut them out as a lump, iron them down to fabric as a lump, and then cut them out once.

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I do not even know why my brain comes up with this stuff. This is part of my artistic process, this incredibly controlled, logical, pattern-fitting piece of the process. Compared to the fabric-picking stage, which is wildly out there and in my head coloring crazily, even when I’m asleep, waking me up with the next color scheme, this is incredibly calm and soothing…like putting a puzzle together. Fabric-choosing is a much more demanding, emotional task.

Anyway, I finished tracing the bottom person and I was trying to find where I had traced next. I try to be logical and move across the drawing in sections, numbering all the same parts together, but I spent about 10 minutes looking for piece 513 and just couldn’t figure it out (because I hadn’t been TOTALLY logical). But as I was doing that, I noticed that I had forgotten to number those damn octopus tentacles…I mean it was bad enough that I missed the bottom figure’s face…her body is in the 400s and her head is in the thousands somewhere, because I missed it while numbering.

Anyway, those damn tentacles added 102 pieces; now I’m at 1764 total…

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Originally I was going to embroider the smaller circles in the suckers, but I decided I wanted them to be fabric in the end. They seemed too big (ah ha ha!) for embroidery. I was going to have this satin-stitch or some sort of textural thing going on by the side of the quilt that wasn’t going to be repeated anywhere else in it, and it just seemed like a problem.

Anyway. That is not the first time an octopus has showed up in one of my quilts, by the way. So I’m about a third of the way through the tracing. Not where I wanted to be, but it is where I am. So there we are.

So I have to be super-focused today to get everything done and get to all the places I’m supposed to be. I’m hoping at the end of it to feel peaceful and inspired and maybe even content or pleased. I have to manage my days to try to manage the emotional crap too. I emailed my doctor about the weird blood-sugar incidents, because they really are illogical and supremely worrying. That may be part of my need today to be with other people as much as possible…if something goes wrong on a day I don’t have the kids around, at least someone might be around to call 911. The counselor wants me to get one of those medic-alert bracelets. SIGH. Anyway. It’s Spring Break. Cleaning, organizing, artmaking, maybe sleeping? Hiking? Who knows. Oh yeah, and a crazy short trip to visit the school where my son will probably spend the next 4 years of his life. Bet there will be some tears over that. Mine, not his.

Moving on.

3 Sisters Waterfall

April 4, 2014

Last Saturday’s hike was an interesting little trip down to 3 Sisters Waterfall(s), out near Descanso. We met at a couple different park and ride locations to carpool, because parking is difficult and it’s a long trip out there with some parts of it on a dirt road. Despite all that, there was a huge group signed up for this…seems it’s something to cross off some list. Thanks to a couple of people for group photos.


The parking is all on a road that is barely wide enough for two cars and goes around a tight curve. We were amazed by how many cars were already there.

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This is the entrance to the “unofficial” trail, with warnings about heat killing and no cell service once you’re out there (true that). It doesn’t look so bad from here.

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Hiking with this many people on a flat trail is a little strange, but honestly, when we got to the hilly section, it wasn’t a big deal. And surprisingly, we all made it back out.

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The weather was nice…started out not too cold, not too warm.

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Lots of those big California oaks…

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And hills and blue sky on either side.

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Rolling hill vistas…

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There were lots of people taking photos…

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And then we started down into that space over there on the right, where the falls are located…

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That part was pretty easy…until we had to come back up it at the end. But it was a relatively mellow downhill into this nice green area, obviously being fed by water.Mar 29 14 023 small

Hiking through the overhanging trees seems really nice…

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Until you realize what’s surrounding you…like everywhere…reaching out to grab you…yes that’s poison oak.

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We came by one young couple and their dog was standing right in the middle of it. Um. Excuse me. Your dog? Don’t touch it until you wash it well, and maybe not even then. I suspect a lot of the less-experienced hikers on the trail (not in our group) are currently nursing pretty bad-ass poison-oak rashes from that hike, based on the lack of protective clothing and protective behavior that we saw. It was nice and green, though…

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And then we got our first view of the falls…

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Realizing then that those little dots on the slope careening before us were the first part of our group (I was in the middle at that point). Oh. Hmm. OK. Downhill. When I hike, I am always aware of the fact that if it’s not a loop, I have to go up whatever I went down. Although sometimes down is harder.

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Here’s the view on the way down. It didn’t seem too bad at this point, although this is my going AROUND the ropes section (I did go UP the ropes on the way back).

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And in this one, you can see the line of people above. We were a really LONG line of people today.

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This is the second rope section…again, I found an easier way down, but went up it on the way back.

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After a brief rest (trying to get most of our group together) at the bottom of that slope, we started the next part of the hike, rock scrambling. There wasn’t always a clear path up the stream, so you’d often have to stop and go back the way you came, looking for something more doable, whether it was getting over the rocks or getting past the poison oak. Both were an issue.

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I wore gloves for this part. Saved my hands. But path? For instance, see the arrow? Good…path. See all the greenery? All of that is poison oak.

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Our whole group found about 5 trails going up this section. It was very pretty though.

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The mountains were towering above us on both sides. Mountain goat territory.

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This is looking up towards where the waterfalls are.

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And then we were there. Along with 30 million other people. Seriously, I don’t know where half of them came from, but many of them were high-school or college-aged, and they were sliding (bump bump BUMP) down that rock on the right into the kinda shallow pool below. We were sure on a regular basis that people must have to be life-flighted out of there.

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There’s no cell coverage though, so you’d have to hike back out first just to call life flight.

It was a Darwinism moment. There’s the lower pool. The rock just drops off and they fall a couple of feet into the pool. Mom brain is worried about these boys (and a few girls) hitting the back of their heads on the way down.

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Despite all that, we enjoyed the day and the view. Sat in the shade for a bit to cool down…

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Ate some food, and then sat out in the sun because it felt good.

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This is looking up toward the upper portion of the falls. I did not climb up to the upper section because I could clearly see people having a hard time coming back and I didn’t feel like doing it.

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See? Thirty million people. OK, not really, but here in San Diego, we joke about the number of people on Cowles and Iron mountains, weekend hikers who mess up the trails and won’t follow trail rules (damn, that sounds elitist, but seriously? Don’t hog the trail and get off the slope.)…this kinda was like that except mostly people were polite and helpful as they tromped around you with hardly any clothes on, right through the poison oak.

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We’re all spread out on this boulder to rest. The key was to find a butt-shaped impression in the boulder. Notice my socks pulled up to protect me from the poison oak.

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I rarely have the right clothes for these hikes. But I still don’t have a rash and it’s been almost a week! So I did it! (thanks to Maritie for that photo and some of the group photos)

Here’s the falls from another view. No, they weren’t sliding down THAT rock (although I kept waiting to see one of them try it).

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And a view of the people up top.

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This guy was doing yoga poses on a rock in the bigger pool.

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No, I don’t know why, but it was amusing to watch. You can see the landscape next to the waterfall and see people going up and down the slope.

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There was a lot of people-watching going on. We stayed at the falls for about 45 minutes and ate lunch and enjoyed the view. Then realized THAT below, that trail, was what we had come DOWN…

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And if you zoom in, you can see the little people climbing back UP it.

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And those little people would be us in a bit.

So we slowly gathered ourselves together and headed back out…past the rushing water…

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Back through the pretty poison valley…

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Looking back the way we came…

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There were lots of wildflowers, but my camera still sucks at taking pictures of those, so this is all you get…

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On the way back, I went up this lower rope portion (that’s actually me at the top, post-ropes; the guy behind me is coming up the rope section). You needed the gloves for pulling yourself up and along on a lot of this hike.

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I used the ropes there because I remembered the dirt going down as being really loose and I didn’t want to try to go up that. But then I went up this…

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Which mostly was easier because you were just pulling yourself up the rocks…until you get to the second ropes portion…

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Which stretches from where I’m standing past the first woman to the second woman, who is still climbing at the very top. That was a bit of a challenge. No matter how much upper-body weightlifting I do, I’m not super strong in the arms, so there was a time when I thought…crap. Rest? Can’t. There’s someone coming up behind me. Interestingly, my arms and shoulders didn’t hurt the next day; my quads did, and my right way worse than the left. I didn’t stop hurting until Wednesday. So definitely somewhat strenuous. I think it was the rock scrambling that did that…being short and having to pull yourself up with your legs is hard on the quads, and apparently I often start with my right leg.

The way back was hot hot hot (a few had heat stroke, at least a mild version of it) and long and climbing, but we took it slowly and drank and ate as needed…

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And eventually made it back to the cars. The trail was about 4.4 miles (although quite a bit of that was straight up or down, it seemed). It took us about an hour and half each way, maybe a little longer on the way back. I wouldn’t hike this alone…there was a lot of helping people up and down slopes and ropes and up and over rocks. The group was really amazingly good with that. I will say that if it had been any hotter, there would have been a lot more casualties…I think it was in the high 70s, low 80s that day, and it was definitely noticeable and made the trip back more difficult.

There were younger kids out there, and there’s a couple things to be said about that…sometimes kids are way better at scrambling up and down than us old people, but they also would be more prone to running right through the poison oak, so it’s kind of a crapshoot as to whether you would take them or not…I would think a healthy, fit 10-year-old would be OK (with plenty of water and food), but only if you go over the poison oak stuff before you go and make sure they’re covered as much as possible. The dogs were an issue…they mostly could handle the hike (but you better take lots of water for them, even with the falls at the end), but they don’t know to stay out of the poison oak, and the oil carries on their fur, even if they don’t get the rash…you will, as soon as they brush up against you. Plus we saw some dog owners taking their little dogs out there, up that crazy slope to the upper falls, and one of the dogs on the way down looks at the path down, stops, and then looks at her mom, like “WTF? I’m not going down that.” And then mom picked her up and carried her, which is really dangerous on a slope like that, not to have both hands ready to catch yourself.

So a lot of crazy people out there, unprepared and sometimes annoying, but it was a cool hike and destination, so now I can cross it off the list. I did actually enjoy it, even the crazy parts, so I guess technically I’m one of the crazies. And I took a nap when I got home, thus proving that I am officially an old person.

More Is Better

April 4, 2014

Hey. So I’m feeling much better tonight. I think the biggest issue with the hypoglycemia is that it comes fast and I feel like crap with it, and it takes a long time for that to go away. The effects of last night’s episode continued well into the morning. I don’t think I started feeling OK again until after lunch. And I ate normally. So. But I ate normally the day before too. It’s the unpredictable nature of the crashes that is difficult. I worry about being alone and having it crash fast and not having someone around to help me. Anyway. The doc and I will have a conversation. We’ll figure it out. Hopefully.

Meanwhile, today was our team’s field trip to the Reuben H. Fleet Science Museum in Balboa Park. We saw one of the IMAX movies on the human body (probably it doesn’t help that IMAX makes me want to puke…but it was good), then we watched 140 or so students try to destroy all the exhibits inside the museum, and then let them out into the sunny gorgeous day to run around and eat and act like goofballs. It was a really well-managed field trip, thanks to one of the team teachers, and I didn’t feel anywhere near as crazy about it as I have in the past. And there’s only one day of school left until Spring Break, when I will have a little bit of freedom. I do have about 700 errands to run and another 30,000 things on my to-do list, but hopefully art will be part of it. After last night, I’m kind of trying to relax my desire to get a lot done. I think I will get done whatever I can, and I will have to be happy with that. Or at least content. Happy is still not part of my vocabulary.

So I practiced that tonight after getting home from my stitching meeting (which is really just hanging out with good people and sometimes we stitch and sometimes we don’t and we try to support each other with our wacky lives and existences…which is all you can do sometimes…is support). I ate some food…I’ve been paranoid about food today. Shockingly.

Then I traced for about an hour…

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It’s still going really slowly. I’m in the middle of the lowest body on the piece…

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She’s got some weirdly overlapping pieces, which means I really have to think while I’m tracing about what goes on top and what goes on the bottom, since I draw the overlaps into the pieces. I’ve finished her legs and belly, and am just starting on the arms. I was getting tired, so I tried to find a decent place to stop…I’m in the 370s, over 6 hours in.

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This piece really is a bit crazy. See all those empty spaces? I try to fill them in as I’m tracing smaller pieces. I try to do a decent job of fitting pieces in so I’m not wasting too much Wonder Under. I also try to trace pieces that I know will be the same fabric together so I save on cutting time…I only have to cut them out as fabric, not as Wonder Under as well. That really helps if the pieces are super small too…I often don’t cut them out until I’m ironing everything together…like I already know I won’t cut out the fish eyeballs until the very last ironing minute…which will be in June, at the rate I’m going.

The yawning, though. I had to stop. I had to make myself stop.

I got some done on the girlchild’s Xmas stocking at the stitching meeting…

Apr 3 14 004 small

this piece is really slow. But it’s meditative. I’ve had a hard time motivating myself to actually meditate for real lately. I think I need to go back to doing it earlier rather than later at night…if I’m tired, I can’t handle it. I get the feeling he’d really like me to meditate in the morning, but I find that difficult. I’m not even really awake in the morning. I feel like you should be awake to be mindful. I’m a night owl. That’s why we call it meditative PRACTICE though…you’re supposed to actually practice it. Plus practicing makes you better at things.

Anyway. At least I’ll get some more artmaking time in the next few weeks. Nothing major, nothing lifechanging. Just more. More is better. Hopefully more is better will apply to hours of sleep as well.


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