Motherhood Humor

3 Buggas Design

Catching Up

It feels like I have not blogged about the comings and goings of shop life lately.  Beyond writing services and jewelry making, I have been coming up with gift tag designs (for weddings and the like).  Lots of them.  It's funny how my brain follows one train of thought until it exhausts all possibilities.  The other week, I designed five mini tags--with three of these designs finding their way to the photography table, and then subsequently to my shop.  For me, creativity and inspiration come in unparalleled spurts, so my ideas often do not quite translate as envisioned onto paper the first time around.  Typically, it is just a small change that will better the design, fill in the awkward spaces.  But I have been known to crumple up a once-revered idea, and toss it back into the recesses of my mind.  And the wastebasket.

Between the prototype and the final draft though is lots of coffee drinking, talking aloud, and walking around to loosen up the original idea in order to make coherent mental edits.  I need the mental and physical space to work through an idea, the freedom to look like a bumbling fool to the mere passerby.

Oh, the woes of the creative mind.  Others may lovingly refer to it as the "creative process."  Whatever your preferred phrase may be, know that you are not alone.

Too Funny, Too Cute

Crocheted Small Dog Cowl

The Canadian shop Folklore Fibres has the most plush and cozy, affordable cowls that I've come across in my Etsy searches.  But what gets me the most about this lovely shop is their listing for a functional small dog cowl!  Oh, the cuteness is more than I can bear right now--and the even cuter idea of matching cowls for both owner and pup?  I love it.

Call me silly if you will, but I love the humor inherent to this item.

And so concludes my "too funny, too cute" post (because sometimes we all need a little functional + silly wit in our lives--I know I sure do).

Winter Hummingbirds

Looks who's still here.  The little bugger.  Two of our three resident hummers are still here, that I've seen, which compared to this time last year, is considerably late.  In 2012, they left in mid-to-late November, only to return in early spring when the weather dipped regularly into the high 50s and low 60s.  Perhaps they will stay all winter this time...

One can surely hope.

* * *

If not, dear hummingbird,
would a hummingbird-sized heat lamp
be enticing enough for you to stay?

Happy Halloween

daydogdesigns

I couldn't help it....saw this wistful pup's face on the front page of Etsy, and knew immediately that I had to include it in this post.  So Happy Halloween to you and yours.  Safe trick-or-treating, apple bobbing, pumpkin carving, and all that great stuff!

And here's another favorite:

PawsitvelyUnique

Fall, Onward

I sure hope you got my humor in the last post.  Moving on, gracefully of course, the weather around here has been varying within 15+ degrees for the last few weeks.  One day is skin-burning weather while the next urges you to wear a sweater over a t-shirt.  Much to my surprise, today is one of those sweater weather days, as is/will be the rest of the week, which so drastically differs from a short week ago.  It's finally feeling like fall around here.  So it's not quite my fault that I recently began to crave drinking coffee and eating dark chocolate all day long--a questionable coping mechanism in anticipation of more crisp, late autumn weather to come.  All I need for accompaniment is a good read, and the afternoon is set.  Fall, onward, I say!

On the EmeraldCut shop front, I've many new designs swirling around in my head for late autumn/winter.  One of these new pieces, which is shown above, is now for sale in my shop.  It's a vintage book-page words poem on birch, which gives the work a festive, rustic, wintery aesthetic.  Will share more items once I put my ideas into motion.  Thanks for all the support.

In the Blogging Spirit

An image from my October photo-a-day challenge.
Read about it here.

Been thinking a lot about my comfort zone lately, which has always been quite cushy and warm.  But lately, it's become rather overwhelming and stagnant--like a bad rush of mid-summer heat in the fall.  So, in the blogging spirit, to push myself out of that comfort zone, I'm going to let you in on a secret: someone who I am close to is getting married, and asked me to be one of her bridesmaids...I am terrified.  The photographs (that I won't share here, sorry), the full-on upbeat smiles, the dress I most likely won't be comfortable in, the ceremonial camaraderie of it all.  It frightens me so, to the point of my only saying yes because she is who she is to me; and she is lovely.  (By the way, yes, I did indeed say yes.)  Picking my own bridesmaid dress would alleviate much of the anxiety (hint hint).  But all playfulness aside, she--a quieter soul, herself--is as graceful, poised, and silly as I am contemplative and introverted, so I know it will all be fine.  It will be a beautiful day.

The Day My Computer (Almost) Died

I have an older version of the celebrated Macbook, and it has truly lived up to its hype: no computer viruses, quick log-in time, and too many fun apps to fill up my free time.  What more could I ask for?

Well, the Macbook lived up to its hype until yesterday, when I turned on my laptop and it gave a dejected sigh, and then subsequently went dead.  In disbelief, I tried turning it on again and again, until it quit making any noise and went completely dead.  My six-year-old workhorse, dead??  I was in a mild state of shock over this, I kid you not.

Don't know how I got this bright idea, but I did.  (You see, I'm not fully in-tune with technology.  Case in point: I taught myself how to use the iMovie app just last year.)  Take out the battery--which now does not work without the outlet charger plugged in at all times, clean off the dust layers that thickly line the surfaces of where the battery and battery chamber meet, and lastly, put it all back in safely and securely.  What do you know, that did the trick.

Today, my laptop turned on normally, sans the dejected sigh and blank screen--so, it was a (very) superficial battery issue and not a hardware one.  Who knew that a layer of dust could cause a computer to malfunction like this.  And I thought technology was the culprit, ha!

Presently

Desk space, March 2013

Happy almost weekend, folks.  My mind currently feels like the above image of my current desk state: ideas looming and swelling in an abstract, jumbled mess.  The issue at-hand is that I need a clean space in order to work with my thoughts and ideas, but at the same time, I need to visually see the pieces laid out in their entirety before I can make any decisions.  And who says that the creative process isn't tough?  So this is what I've decided must be done: 1. Take a very deep breath and sift slowly through the odds and ends, 2. Sort out what exactly I am striving for (with my time--and likewise, my budget), and 3. Follow through with it.

Now, how's that for toughmindedness?

The Tangible Material

How was your holiday season?  Hope it went well.  This Christmas season, I realized something.  As a person who isn't too into material things, I have too much--I can probably do without most of it.  It's not that I am not deeply appreciate and grateful for all of this stuff (some of which I had personally asked for), it's just that it all just sits there, making you happy one minute, while adding to your visual clutter the next, overwhelming the senses and exacerbating the underlying holiday migraine from too much busyness.

Maybe it's just an introvert thing.

I much prefer thoughts, but no one can ever give a complex thought as a gift.  Well, unless it is a quote printed onto something tangible.  If this was the case, it would have to be a darned good quote, indeed.

Lastly, a slice of humble pie:
An EmeraldCut shop review was recently featured in The Chakra Glow's lovely blog.  See the review here.  Thank you, Courtney, for the kindness!

If any of you would like to share your EmeraldCut item photos or reviews, I would love to hear from you.  Simply leave a post comment, or convo me.

Update: Thumbelina Leigh Lavender

Thumbelina Leigh Lavender in Mid-Spring 2012

Earlier this year, my husband and I purchased a Thumbelina Leigh Lavender plant.  This plant, which lives up to its long (albeit bitty) name, has been with us for nearly two seasons now and is still quite small and flowerless--even after we transplanted it into a larger pot in late spring.  There is a sad, sad reason to why the plant continues to be such a small fry: in early-to-mid summer (I've forgotten the exact date), I ended up over-pruning the poor thing, leaving it a skeletal mish mash of uneven-height stems.  Thought I may have killed the thing as I, in horror, watched the flowers shrivel up and fall, and the plant (sans flowers) become stouter.

Hence no blog posts or photos over the last few months--well, besides this post from July (notice the stubbiness!), until now...

This week, three little buds have made an appearance.  Tiny and delicate they may be, but I have high hopes for them.  And I am so elated that the plant's alive and thriving.  If it blooms in fall, like it's supposed to (Thumbelina Leighs bloom twice a year, once in spring and once in fall), I will post a celebratory photo...or two. 

Until then, happy autumn!

Anticipation

 Hello, handful of people who read my blog.  I've missed blogging, and it has only been five days since my last post.  Goodness!  I don't know about you, but I've bit big by the autumn bug far too early this year--my autumn cravings (can one crave a season?) began in mid-August.

Today is only September 1st, but I'm already daydreaming of a cocoon-like existence: daydreaming of cozy sweaters/cardigans and a continuous supply of hot drinks, autumn-colored leaves and a chill in the air--boot weather.  And oh, must I forget the chai?  Scratch that, I am already drinking the spiced teas to no end.

Today is also the first full day of my month-long Etsy shop 30% off coupon code and giveaway (see my previous blog entry for details).  I am probably not supposed to admit this, but I am slightly nervous about having two simultaneously-occurring promotions (well three, if you count my donation items). Yet, I know that the only thing I can do is see how it all goes.  So I will just go with the flow...sipping my chai tea and grabbing a well-worn cozy cardigan to drape across my shoulders in the process, as anticipatory gestures of autumn.

I Did It

After much deliberation, I finally created an Etsy About page for my shop.  The About page is basically an "About Me" section, which allows others to learn more about you and your shop.  (I think that those sly word creators at Etsy wanted to be a little different in their naming of the page, although their end-product word is all too similar to the eponymous "About Me.")  Sounds easy enough, this About page, but I couldn't--for the life of me--figure out what content belonged to the About page, the Shop Policies, and the Etsy Profile page, respectively, which are different links to click on from a Etsy shop.  To me, they are all too similar to be dissimilar, you know?  In no way did I want a considerable overlap of information, nor did I want to share too much. 

I did, though, figure it out.

In total, it took me over four hours to create my About page.  I wrote three paragraphs, then deleted two, and decided on the five photos (out of sixty) that aptly fit my aesthetic.  The photo collage above (thank you to the site, PicMonkey for the editorial ease) includes my favorite "outtakes" from the photo session.

Abstract Life

Is life abstract?  This is a question that I ask myself on a near-daily basis.  According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the word "abstract" holds numerous meanings: the word is simultaneously an adjective, a noun, and a verb.  The definition that bears the most weight is the word used as an adjective--and specifically, definition number four, which defines "abstract" as "having only intrinsic form with little or no attempt at pictorial representation or narrative content."  When applied to a lived life, "intrinsic" can mean one's intrinsic value, or one's set of morals.  Conversely, a "pictorial representation or narrative content" can refer to one's outward "value" or achievements, including one's occupation(s), awards, and how others perceive you.

On a deeper level, the novelist Charlotte Bronte employs a complex literary device that mirrors this definition of life in the abstract.  In The Three Brontes, May Sinclair discusses Charlotte Bronte's use of this literary device to describe the deep psychological processes that Bronte's protagonists must contend with on a daily basis.  The protagonists each have an "inner world," or psyche/mind, which is affected by an "outer world," or outside influences (i.e.: circumstance, one's "lot" in life, etc.).  Substituting the phrase "inner world" with "intrinsic form," and "outer world" with "pictorial representation or narrative content," the abstract can be seen as an analogy for one's intrinsic value and contentment, which contrasts greatly with dominant modes of measuring happiness or prestige. 

You can probably see where my allegiance lies.  I hold tightly onto what contains intrinsic value.  It is not that I shun awards, what others have to say, achievements, and the like; I just prefer quietude to endless noise.  A little fanfare is fine, but when it borders on raucous applause and exuberant photo taking, I pause...and take flight.  Maybe it's a hermit's lot in life.

At this point, my life is abstract.  I attempt to live intrinsically, while continuing to be acutely aware that my narrative content is a bit slow on the uptake.  My resume may not read like an accomplished ingenue, but the intrinsic value is priceless.  "Post-accomplishments," I have learned much about myself, but it's a tough process, this learning to be content! 

So that is why this blog post--with an image of blurry, green baker's twine and a mention of one of Charlotte Bronte's literary devices--is pretty abstract, for it reflects a congruous, abstract life.  And frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.  With tongue-in-cheek humor, I shall leave thee until next time.

Insight is Golden

I feel like society has become linguistically lazy.  Today, I heard the word, "Awesome," uttered three times by a news reporter in a five-minute-long segment.  Nope, I do not care, news reporter, if you are using the word contextually.  Your lackadaisical, rote response does not impress me.  Rather, my first instinct is to pound my fists against the table in frustration; instinct no. 2 is to smack my palm in sheer linguistic agony against my forehead.  Then, I yawn out of boredom.  "Awesome" is not as shudder worthy as the usage of the filler word, "like," interspersed between every two words (or so) in a sentence...but still.  Linguistic laziness--"a lazy descriptor," as my husband says--bites.  Like, big time.  Yes, I am being ironically sarcastic.

Is the use of filler words in a sentence a societal marker of non-individuality and non-uniqueness?  A blunder to the carefully-wrought syntax of the American English language, both verbal and written?  Unfortunately, I truly believe so.

We, who take note of linguistic variances, are strange birds who derive pleasure (or pain) in observing how our language evolves--or stalls.  This gives us reason to think critically about how the world goes 'round, with language as a gauge.  Everything seems to be a trend in this land of old; and trends come and go.

So, this begs me to say...
You know, insight is forevermore golden for those who seek it--
here's (raises a mug) to a vocabulary consisting of words that actually mean something.

Ramblings of a Seeker

I am in the last one-third of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, a personal, non-fiction narrative by Annie Dillard.  Broadly-speaking, the text intricately captures the overlapping limitations of our worldly, moral explanations--and juxtaposes it with life's experiences within nature as the connecting fiber between human and the larger world.  Dillard herself describes Pilgrim at Tinker Creek as a "book of theology."  However, the atheist in me sees beyond her inclusion of religion, seeks the meanings in-between the words: the rich subtext, ripe with intuitive leaps and bounds.

A seeker, I have always been.  So, I was happy (to say the least) to have come across this particular book of Dillard's in a second-hand shop.  It is one of the many in her prolific career: her Pulitzer Prize-winning piece on seeking within nature.  Admittedly, I find an unnerving amount of (sometimes cruel) beauty in a leaf; a dying grasshopper; the wind.  Nature amuses me for hours, days, years--an endless game of hide-and-seek. Dillard's work attests to this attractive element of nature, amid the specific backdrop of the seemingly-tranquil Tinker Creek in Virginia.   She stalks, she sees, and she unties: in a eloquent, dry humor/witty, and contextual way.  So witty--and sometimes so abstract--that I am at times lost on the analogies.  And in them. 

Seeking, rather than hiding, is a common theme in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.  Each chapter is titled according to an act of such made by nature or by a human.  My personal favorites are: "Winter" and "The Present."  The weather and being present.  More importantly, the best part the work itself is Dillard's uncannily-precise gift of connecting chapter-to-chapter, theme-to-theme.  It is in these connections that the reader finds what is (sometimes) unknowingly sought after in the act of seeking-while-reading: some darn good writing.  Dillard has a seemingly innate ability to connect the dots, and to connect the nearly invisible dots, in a clearly-articulated manner that makes sense.  A difficult task. 

(And let's face it: things that make sense are the best things in the world because we have to put less concerted effort into making sense of them.)

So, to Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, a pleasurable read for a seeker of sorts: thank you.  After reading the first few chapters, I thought that I'd donate you--but you have proven me wrong.  I shall keep you.

An Epiphany of Sorts

I have come to realize that many activities that I find to be calming to the soul are considered boring by most.  By this, I mean the introverted, internal sorts of pleasure-seeking: reading, writing, attempting to grasp (i.e.: usually not understanding) seemingly-immaculate ideas and theories in texts, sitting outdoors, taking photographs, decorating EmeraldCut boxes--and the list goes on and on.  Truthfully, these are parts of my daily routine, which I dearly imbue with intrinsic value, and therefore document in this blog.  No wonder why I have a nearly non-existent readership, huh?  

Without much convincing, I remind myself that I am staying wholeheartedly true to myself, which is in my opinion, the ultimate goal of a full, lived life.  And that is reason enough for me to go on with my Existentialist ways: for the "less exciting" events in life are sometimes the most rewarding ones in the long run.

So...no tales of white water rafting, snowboarding, scathing details on what I wore/did/ate today, or hiking in the dark, etc., will ever be posted on this blog.  I'd rather be outdoors (or in) sipping a hot coffee or tea from a gargantuan-sized ceramic mug, staring at the ancient trees, and listening to the wind glide in an invisible, times-of-old dance with the sunlight softly filtering through foliage and cloud.  The rocks, the greenery, the feel of sunlight upon the face: this, to me, is a rich, full life.

All Things Golden and Warm...

All things golden-hued and warm, I am drawn to.  

A subtle glow, an inner radiance... 

Something preferable functional, vintage, or just plain unique.

Handmade and a story behind it makes the find even better.

Truth: I didn't want to bore you with my new milk glass fascination.

Here are some of my favorite golden, warm items on Etsy:

From: ImpulseART

From: dadamietz

From: pillowsophi

From: metalmorphoz

From: jansonpottery

From: SerendipityGemstones

From: ChaoticHarmonyCafe

From: TheHiddenChamber

From: HelloVioleta

My Favorite Way to Spend a Rainy Day

It's not quite the spectacle that I had wished for or anticipated, nor were the weather reports ominously downtrodden, as they usually are in their description of rainy weather.  Throws them all in a tizzy, but I understand: change is hard; its form is not so much an issue as the actual change, itself.  So, I will have to settle for less spectacle and more misty mess for this day, much like yesterday.  But really, I have nothing to complain about because some rain--even if it is like rolling fog--is better than no rain at all.  Especially since we've not had a downpour of any sort in two months.

My favorite way to spend a day like this is with a good book, a large cup of hot tea or coffee, and (the best part) gluing my shop name onto Kraft boxes.  Two itty bitty pieces of rectangular-shaped paper: one with my shop name handwritten in jet black-colored ink, the other, cut out from an old catalog.  My shop name's piece fits neatly in the middle of the other.

The rectangular-shaped Kraft box itself is under 2" wide, so in this case--itty bitty--although a not-so-pretty description, warrants no better adjective.  Give me a glue stick, and I will go to town on this project: I finished twenty-two boxes last night, and the other half awaits me today.  Truthfully, my husband probably thinks I'm a bit crazy when I do this because he purchased my shop name stamp for me at Christmastime to make my Kraft box and business card endeavors easier to carry out, time-wise.  But the critic in me thinks that the old way of branding my Kraft boxes looks better, and I listen to the critic in me (probably) more often that I should.  So my rainy days will be spent carefully gluing bits of paper onto little boxes, sipping a hot drink, and taking breaks to dive into a good book.  Strangely soothing, but some may say that it's just plain strange.

Late afternoon UPDATE:
The rain has crescendo-d into a variegated roar amid a pale-gray sky.  It's not a charcoal-black sky muddled by a consistently-torrential downpour, characterized by a constant hum of white noise: but it's rain.

On Crafting Stereotypes

As you probably guessed, this blog entry has nothing to do with stereotyping of the racial sort.  It as everything to do with gendered arena of stereotyping, particularly, what is considered women's arts and men's.  I am uncomfortable with the word, "crafter," as in, "I am a crafter; I engage in arts and crafts."  For me, the word conjures strange feelings of inadequacy, mediocrity, and intermediate-level artistry.  According to society, anyone could be a crafter...if they are female because arts and crafts are (unfortunately) considered female terrain.  What about men who create things?  Isn't that the definition of a "crafter"...a creator of sorts?

I am comfortable when the suffix is dropped from the word "crafter": its proverbial tail--the nervous ending--is severed, whisked away, and out of sight.  Someone who engages in a craft is an enthusiast, a learner of the arts over time.  Someone who has "perfected their craft" or who "engages in a craft," and enjoys what they do.  And this person, who engages in a craft, has a non-gendered connotation.  This person is not expected to be a female or a male, for that matter.  Maybe this is why I am cautious around the "crafter," while all-embracing of the "craft."

But I have not yet perfected my craft, and am wary of being defined as a crafter.  I even have an overly-healthy dose of humility over the use of the term, "artist."  "Starving artist" is even worse.

With these strange, semi-philosophical moments of questioning come a slight moment of off-kilter clarity as I laugh at myself over the use of word connotation, stereotypes, and suffix-dropping as an attempt to make everything fit nice and pretty into clear-cut categories.  Or maybe I am attempting to tear apart these categories in order to understand them better.  The water is murky on this side of the Pacific.

***

When it comes to crafting stereotypes, I prefer and try my utmost hardest not to fall into the trap of stereotyping others.  But it happens, to my disdain.  This leads me to ask: Why are we so caught up with appearance?  This person looks nice, so they must be nice.  Not always.  We categorize to make sense of the world, but what if we just felt the world--using all our senses--rather than running the images we see through our brains, relying on our biased intellect to help guide the way?