OK, since I resized the photos and opened this blogpost, SEVENTEEN THOUSAND THINGS have shown up in text, my inbox, my brain, wherever. I hate the last few days of break. They implode. Or explode. There’s ploding. Of some sort. I literally can’t focus on anything, even my eyeballs are all floaty things and goo. Wait. Maybe that’s pinkeye. No. Why would I have pinkeye? I wouldn’t. OK, so I’m just tired and there’s too much looking at things going on. IDK how you go through life without looking though. I’m an observant person. Maybe I look too hard or too much. Whatever that means.
I can’t get anything done the last few days of break. I mean, I get things done, but things explode in time, like a pufferfish or those biscuits you break out of the cardboard tube or bread rising. Like one thing yesterday that should have taken not much time took forever. Well. In my head.
Anyway, so I should accept the time-wasting, the fast-moving (only in my head) clock. Just accept. Yesterday, I did manage to go to Dick Blick for fancy art paper. I didn’t need much…but it means driving downtown. Well, I drove to SDSU first and that was a mistake because mapping sucks AND it was closed for break. So I don’t like the downtown one because parking is hellacious. But I managed it and got the paper, because I’m making an artist book. No really. Not one you’ll want to read so much. Well, honestly, I just don’t know what I’m doing with it, but I needed paper I could make a box (or 17) out of. So it’s a good thing I took that class over the summer about paper building and boxes and embroidery, because now I’m gonna use it. Well. Maybe not the embroidery. We’ll see.
I also finally finished grading the huge assignment. Well. There’s another one. This one felt huge while I was doing it.
The next one probably will too. Although the fact that not everyone turned in the next assignment will mean it takes less time.
OK, so I’m still in this brain place that hasn’t started drawing the next quilt. I think it’s because I’m still doing a drawing a day. Maybe I should stop.
I like the birds.
I had some stuff that was copied and I taped one of them together…
But it won’t work for either of the two library shows (I sent an email for clear guidelines on what’s allowed, but I’m pretty sure nudity is out). And it’s not what I want for the next big one. I just need to draw it.
Maybe that’s today’s plan. Clear the light table, prep a big damn piece of paper, and start drawing it.
I’m still working on the binding…with doggie help.
Or not. This was around midnight. I finished the last side and started one of the sleeves. One finger is really hurting. I’m not sure it’s related to this…I think I pin-stabbed it. Whoops. Simba really just wants me to rub his belly instead of stitching.
I even got Kitten at one point…
The other kittens were out being treated for worms. Gross stuff. They came back and played around for a while and then got locked up in the crate for sleepy time.
Boychild has been digging up this Tree of Heaven (it’s a weed…a seriously fucking tree weed that goes to the center of the Earth and out the other side)…
He keeps finding glass buried down there. I’m pretty sure the newest pieces are vintage whisky bottle…
Fascinating shit out there…
Meanwhile…today…I need to get new hiking boots. I need to start grading the last of the hellacious things. I need to pull some quilt rolls out for a curator who’s doing a ‘studio visit’ tomorrow (my studio is the whole house…makes it difficult). I need to take a freakin’ shower! Seriously this day is kicking my butt. I need to make the other batch of scones before the ingredients go bad. I need to clear the damn light table and start drawing! Yes. That thing. OK. Well. Let’s start with the shower and see how the day goes. Or not. Because the boychild is still doing laundry. OK. Let’s start with the quilt rolls or the scones or maybe the light table. SEE! This is how it starts. I should write all the tasks on little pieces of paper and put them in a jar and then pick one to do first. Geez, even I am rolling my eyes at that.
I can only do what I can do. And realizing that the end of break is ALWAYS this fucked up should help.
Kathy Nida 