The Squid Thinks

are you dead or are you sleepin'?

2008-08-14T22:28:00.010-05:00

So it's been a while. I've been in a bit of a creative slump this summer. Not just this summer. More like the last two seasons.
It's frustrating to look back at the past few months and really see nothing productive. I've been nannying, but all that entails is sitting around, waiting to taxi siblings to their various engagements. I've gotten reading done, but even that seems not much of an achievement. Now, summer is practically over. The expanse of time where I could have done so much while free from the constraints of studying is rocketing to a close. And I have done nothing but dry up and harden into a clump of...something uninspired.
One day, I received an unexpected package in the mail, and I felt something inside of me stir for the first time in ages. Somehow, she sensed what I needed without even knowing exactly what was going on. Best friends can be like that sometimes.

Thanks, Carly, for waking me up.

Okay, the stars are really a rip off of some shoes my mom decorated for me as a kid, but I loved those shoes. Now I can have them again.

Apologies

2008-04-06T21:19:00.003-05:00

Never EVER take twenty-two credits in a semester. Even if lots of them were "just" studio classes. Or sounded interesting. Or involved little more than playing "Oh When the Saints..." on the piano.

Someday, I will post a substantial entry.

I did run across this during a break from my Spanish essay. A few of my favorites:

Lists

2008-03-13T10:40:00.000-05:00

"It's a vagina, madam, not a clown car."

Notte

2008-02-15T17:52:00.007-06:00

My amazing roomie had a midnight craft session.

The final product:

Bees

2008-02-13T00:09:00.010-06:00

This entry will prove to be entirely pointless.

I spent half an hour tonight looking at pictures of countless dogs dressed up to look like bees. It was hilarious. All of the dogs looked so much like they did not want to be dressed up like bees, but there was very little the poor animals could do about the situation.

Here are some of my favorites:

This dog isn't even dressed up like a bee. He's been painted!

Winding

2008-02-11T22:17:00.000-06:00

My apologies.

I've been so busy with school. There's little time for crafts or fun writing these days.

Here's a little guy I made for Kate. I was inspired by this.

I also spent a little time taking photos of Carly's Phonograph. It's super-cool.

Okay. I SWEAR I will eventually have pictures of more owls, some partridges, and mittens on here soon. And maybe I'll even write something halfway decent.

Unmade

2008-01-30T19:42:00.000-06:00

The first day of class, Bushey talked about Wabi-sabi.

Fourteen days later, I took these two photos.

Back to School

2008-01-19T09:25:00.000-06:00

Ok. I'm sorry it's been so long. These last couple of weeks, with panhell duties and my (unofficial) 21 credits have made it hard to keep this updated. I should be able to get back to this more regularly now that recruitment is mostly over.

This is Dudley. I call him Dudders. I made him over break. Isn't he cute? He's sad because his eyes are buttons and his mouth is anatomically in the wrong place.

I got a new sewing machine for Christmas, so there will surely be more critters and maybe a pair of mittens coming soon.

A Visit

2008-01-07T12:57:00.000-06:00

Two pairs of feet went for a walk.

They waited for a train.

They admired their reflection.

They considered jumping.

They chatted in a cafe.

They counted to thirty-seven.

They played with toys.

They wondered if fatbunny was on a diet.

They went to a rave.

They fed a goose.

They shopped for records.

And then they said goodbye.

News

2008-01-03T13:22:00.000-06:00

Hey peeps!
Sorry to disappoint my many loyal readers (Hi, mom!) but I probably won't be posting much for the next couple of days because this show's coming to town:

Cliche? Yes. Poorly constructed? Maybe.
But we really do have adventures. What other dynamic duo do you know that has been camping in December, committed traffic crimes in Canada, and has been known to spend excessive time on its roof?

More felt critters to come, plus photos of the Chicago adventure.

Maybe

2008-01-02T14:08:00.001-06:00

maybe I had a horse
of the day calendar,
but that doesn't mean
I can ride

New

2008-01-01T22:49:00.001-06:00

It’s 2008 and I need a haircut.

It’s really my form of baptism. With the cutting away of old, dead cells, I am washed clean and new. Away with the the eavesdroppers, the split ends with eyes of their own. If I am to move on, I must leave them behind.

One day I’m sure I’ll shave my head, just to see what it feels like to be witnessless.

I was watching Flight of the Conchords last night. Hilarious.

Bowie's in space, man.

Security

2007-12-30T15:25:00.000-06:00

Someone found my social security card inside of a book from the high school library.

This is alarming for several reasons:
1. I didn’t know it was missing.
2. I graduated from high school two years ago.
3. I have no recollection of handling my social security card anywhere near library books at any time.

I have come to the conclusion that I am just stupid enough to use my social security card as a bookmark and then completely forget that I’ve done so.

Here are some pictures of my baby Oswald. He just got a handsome new haircut!

He has a letter for his name!

2007-12-29T12:10:00.000-06:00

Jay Ryan is possibly my most favorite person. Ever. I wish he would marry me. Or at least let me intern at his studio (he won't, I tried).

Also, the sweet seasonal craft fair, Renegade, now has a year round shop. Super, considering I've missed the fair the last two years. Thanks, college.

Fireside

2007-12-28T19:14:00.000-06:00

Three generations of Kennedy women fiddled about the kitchen all afternoon. The septuagenarian boiled down the last of the beef to bare bones. The materfamilas, the big time bacon bringer, paced and panicked about shepherd's pie. And the youngest, the frightened future, played Laura Ingalls, fetching wood to feed the fire, hoping her flaming feast could feed more than empty stomachs.

I took some photos today when I was hanging out at home. Here are a few.

The Mind of a Child...

2007-12-27T23:47:00.000-06:00

Here's blog entry #2

I've had so much free time since work has fallen through for me this month. I don't even know what to do with myself.

Photography has always been a medium I've avoided for some reason. Probably just intimidated by it. So in all of this newfound leisure, I have been taking tons of photos. I'll try to post some of those in the future. I really have no clue what I'm doing, but it's fun to try something new.

I've also been making toys. Little felted animals made from old sweaters. A tribute to mama Muffy, I suppose. I'd like to think she'd be proud of my efforts.

Sweater Cat and two owls

Owls

Ok. That's it for tonight. Maybe next time I'll write something more pleasing to read.

Beginning at the Beginning

2007-12-27T11:15:00.000-06:00

I don't really know why I've started this, but I have.

Eventually, Carly and I plan to do a joint-blog while she's studying abroad. Something like these (one and, most importantly, two) that I've always admired. I like the concept of two friends sharing visual ideas even though they're miles apart.

I was thinking the other day about two zebra finches I used to have. They were a pair, Poe and Clem, named after good ol' Edgar Allan and his cousin/wife/underage companion Virginia Clemm. These birds were, to put it bluntly, quite sexually active. Clem was laying eggs practically every other day, building endless nest-y layers over her forgotten potential offspring. She must have tired herself out, because she soon ended up stiff and pale on the messy, bird droppingy cage floor.
Poe was devastated, if I may anthropomorphize him to that extent. He stopped doing whatever it is that caged birds do to keep themselves from noticing that they don't have room to fly. He died not long after his mate, probably from a mixture of self-starvation and genuine avian depression.
I later looked more deeply into the history of the pair's namesake couple. Little Virginia died after only two years of marriage, sending her husband into an emotional funk that would end years later in his own death attributed to a combination of his raging alcoholism and suicidal depression.
Was the tragic death of these star-crossed fowl destiny? Or am I simply misinterpreting the biological pair-mating strategies of finches?
In any case, here goes nothin'