someone save me
cross mary mary Originally uploaded by dressform.
good thing i don't melt or get the heebie jeebies when i see icons or crosses or anything religious for that matter... the land of enchantment was FULL of such imagery. what's funny is i don't see or feel the religiosity of the stuff, but i totally fall for it aesthetically! first round of photos are now available in a santa fe set on flickr. wait till i upload the pics from our visit to a little old church... where i had a visual overload epiphany
you'll see some of the amazing moments in hubby's mom's house if you peruse the set though. her sense of color is amazing. she's an incredible painter as well [ab-ex old school modernist] and the house reflects the urgency and movement and passion that her work does. talk about living artfully.... sigh.....
i'm pooped. maybe it's from banging my head against the wall - ANOTHER paper plagerized today. you know if english isn't your native language you probably don't want to turn in a paper that includes this sentence "His diatribes have the desperate conviction of a self-published pamphlet pressed into your palm by a wide-eyed stranger purporting to offer the true path to salvation." it's a BIG clue that you got your info from another source and it's just going to take me 5 minutes to find it on the net. it's so unfortunate. i even gave the PLEASE don't plagerize speech.... did i already say CRAP??? if not crap!
so to end w/ humor - one last quote from "holy canoli" [this is it i swear! - i was starting to think, though... she mentions several books in her book. i wonder what it would be like to try and hop from book to book - read one that she mentions and see if it mentions another book - or a locale that might have a book about it and then read that... some weird chain of literary madness. ok i might be crazy]. quote from the essay where sara is hanging out w/ her gun toting dad who has a cannon to play with.
Dad shoots the cannon again so that they can see how it works. The other hiker says, "That's quite the machine you got there." But he isn't talking about the cannon. He's talking about my tape recorder and my microphone - which is called a shotgun mike I stare back at him, then I look over at my father's cannon, then down at my microphone and I think, Oh. My. God. My dad and I are the same person. We're both smart-alecky loners with goofy projects and weird equipment. And since this whole target practice outing was my idea, I was no longer his adversary. I was his accomplice. What's worse, I was liking it.
new news hopefully tomorrow... must send out mass email first.... so some of you will be getting this bit of info multiple times... sorry!