The Eater of Small Things: musing

Showing posts with label musing. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 2, 2019

New/Old Signal Detected

Something I'm working on. More on this in a minute.

Truth be told, I remember very little of 2013 through 2017. Some parts of it blaze bright in my memory's eye, but as I look through my last series of posts I feel like I'm looking at someone else's life. There's a sense of alarm now, like I've misplaced house keys. The root of this confusion is chronic physical pain from a work accident, and a sluice of medications that helped me get through each day.

I have survived. I'm back to work for over a year now, restored to the point where I can function and contribute to my family's well-being. Moving forward, it's not merely enough to survive. I am back to looking for that struggle for purpose that drives us all.

I make stuff. I don't know if you can call it art. I used to do that. You can trace the chimeric history of this blog and see there was a point where I used to do Art with a capital A. Fine art for art galleries that people could buy and hang on their walls. There were realities associated with that as a career that I was not really equipped to handle, then or now. I'm not sure I was ever really wired for that life.

So now the lion's share of my day goes to working at a job that pays (some?) of the bills, raising kids, and being a husband. There are particles of free time that fall through these various nets. 15 minutes here or there, an hour after the kids go to bed, or blissful Saturday mornings, where I get to reconnect with the core of my being and make things.

None of this is new. Writing about my adventures was an old thing. Trying to be honest with myself, accountable. Sometimes lying to myself. I think it's all been done. I keep forgetting though. So right now this is new! Join me for what comes. Or don't.

I'm better now. Self-actualized, which is a term I made up and will happily apply to myself on good days. I want to be even better than this though.

Project update.... Well, right now there's too much to sift. It's a moving stream. I lack the aptitude to lay it all out at this time. Maybe later I'll do a retrospective to get us all caught up. This project is new. Or sort of old when you get down to the foundation. It's a model based off my buddy's model. We can be cool and call them sculptures. It's just a label.

Here:

Lower half so far

Two lower halves meet up for a walk

Friday, October 14, 2016

Held in Contempt

From a dusty shelf I found an old kit-bashed friend from days gone by. This contemptor dreadnought was originally built for my Blood Angels army, which has not seen play in quite a few years.

I'm debating leaving him as-is, finishing up the paint-job, or converting him over to the treacherous Word Bearers legion.

It seems I like painting red.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The Cat and Olive Connection

Today I turn my back on menial household chores and college administrative hoop-jumping to shine light on a clandestine operation known as the Cat & Olive Connection. It's true: I stumbled across an international feline olive-smuggling operation that was uncovered when I found a dead foreign ambassador on my doorstep. He had been shot sometime the night before and had clearly managed to crawl up to the top of the stoop before dying. On a shred of paper in his pocket, the only clue: a hastily-scrawled note that read: Uncle Argyle is the key. Basement. Dryer.

Unable to decipher the meaing of this cryptic clue, I sat down on the couch and helped myself to a jar of olives. Who was this Uncle Argyle and how was he involved with the ambassador's assassination? The puzzle pieces were all there, I just needed to make them fit. My eyes drifted to the olive jar. And then I had my answer. Counterfeit olives!

I raced down to the basement, my heart thudding in my ears as I made my way to over to the washer and dryer. I flung open the door of the dryer, poked my head inside, and sure enough there was an entire underground facility dedicated to counterfeiting olives. And all operated by furry felines with nimble paws!

I rang Constable Jenkens, who was quick to lead a task force into the dryer to shut down the operation. Those pimiento-stuffing, olive-shucking privateers were wrangled and cuffed, though no one was able to single out the mastermind, that fiendish Spaniard known as Uncle Argyle. He had escaped without a sound, no doubt to plan some other wiley scheme.

As the Constable's vehicle drove away a solitary figure watched from a window across the street, purring loudly and nuzzling a jar of olives...

Friday, February 27, 2009

Pinch Hitting

Hi there. It's the wife. I'm stepping in for the evening as Orion is currently entrenched in the warhammer universe, which has much to do with his best friend returning from the metaphorical grave (or North Carolina). Ah, we lost him again to drawing this time. These artists, I'll tell ya.

So, after several months of complete fiction immersion, I've felt pretty self-indulgent. Usually I do a sort of flip-flop, read a little fiction, read a little non-fiction and keep things nice and balanced. Since Christmas I've been buried in one good fiction series after another, so in honor of the Lent season I decided to give up fiction until Easter. My first non-fiction book of choice is a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. It's called "Let the Trumpet Sound- A Life of Martin Luther King Jr." by Stephen B. Oates. Now to begin with two things: 1. I'm always a little nervous about reading books that are meant to instruct when they are picked at random. I'm a pretty trusting person, so I try to be picky about who I trust and randomly picked books can be well, kind of random. So, far this author seems pretty even-handed, and I suppose you have to start somwhere which leads me to-2. I really don't know much about MLK. This, I suppose, is in the same vein as, I don't know much about George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, or any other variety of perennial historical figure favorites. You know what I mean, we all know the basic details, in MLK's case, the Montgomery Bus Boycott (although I have to admit I didn't know how much he was involved with it), the "I Have A Dream Speech," sit-ins, his assasination. But, like much in life, it was all so vague, so blurry to me. The beautiful thing about a well written biography is that it leads the reader into the nit and grit of a person's life. A good biography will humanize a figure, a myth, and make their ideals and triumphs more attainable for us lowly folk. So, on that note, I thought I'd share a couple of quotes that I really liked:

Quoting Ghandi, "Rivers of blood may have to flow before we gain our freedom, but it must be our blood. The same must be true of us, King would say, because 'unearned suffering is redemptive.'" Yet, he qualified this statement, this way of life, by saying "this is resistance, it is not stagnant passivity, a "do-nothing" method. 'It is not passive nonresistance to evil, it is active nonviolent resistance to evil.' And it is not a method for cowards. Ghandi said that if somebody uses it because he is afraid, he is not truly nonviolent. Really, nonviolence is the way of the strong."

I know that I, a middle class white gal (not to sound glib, but it's the truth!), won't run into oppression and violence too often, or really ever, in my life. But it is an interesting mind set, this idea of active resistance to the many terrible, terrible things going on in our world today. So, thats my musing....

and for kicks, here's what I caught Orion and her majesty, Lord Cocoa, doing the other night

Mrs. B

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Moderate Escapism as a Career

Driving home last night, I decided that maybe I should have a back-up plan with regard to my career. After a moment of consideration, I decided that I would be interested in going to med school, mainly to become a doctor who helps patients who have suffered a stroke.

Reasons for this as a possible career choice: Reason #1, I have excellent hand-eye coordination from decades of art-making and video games. Reason #2, I can engage in incredibly tedious activities for long periods of time without losing concentration. Reason #3, I am a jokster, and could see myself pawing at a patient's noggin while moaning, "Braaaaaains... braaaaaains....". Reason #4, I'd like to make a positive contribution to humanity to make up for all the days I sleep late.

Stroke prevention tips can be found here.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Serenity

Today I reflect on the nature of serenity, and the general state that comes with peace of mind. To illustrate this feeling I have included a recent photograph of our resident furball. She's just come in from the cold, a veritable cat icicle. She immediately goes to the bathroom and plops down in front of the heat register, which she treats like her own little roaring fireplace. As she dozes off, I can't help but marvel at the serenity that envelopes her.

Serenity in us humans is along the same lines, though often more complicated. I think of the peace that comes from watching my wife as she is engrossed in a book. The room is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages. Her focus never wavers. She is engaged in a silent task that affords her much enjoyment. Is this the definition of serenity?

Human serenity seems to involve the simple comforts of pursuing a process. My own interests as another example: I slather adhesive across a sheet of quarter-inch thick MDF and afix it to the underside of a polystyrene panel. This process is another serenity-- engaging tools that work and materials that come together. These are my enjoyment and my quiet satisfaction. And a quote from the A-Team: "I love it when a plan comes together."

I concur.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Instruments of Chaos

I've discovered that I am incredibly bendable in regard to catching flying fish one-handed in the dark... Yet another reason to fear the darkness.

Today's fake recipe: Clove-Riddled Cow Hearts

Stick some cloves in a cow's heart and set on broil for 90 minutes. Saute lightly with chopped onions, and serve with a slice of lemon. (Serves 4.)

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The Cars That Ate Paris

I stumbled across a reference to this movie today. Am I hallucinating, or is this real? The Internet Movie Database tells me I'm not hallucinating. But even so, I stand agape.

After some in-depth research, which constitutes typing the movie's name into a Youtube search, I was rewarded with this gem, a whopping three and a half minute movie trailer that showcases some folks dressed as the Amish talking quietly in what appears to be a town meeting, interspersed with scenes of cars driving. Occasionally some of the cars are shown falling off of cliffs in a mountainous region.

I've been to Paris. The one in France. Without watching the movie, I can tell you it was not filmed there. I'm guessing it's Paris, New Wales, if one exists.

So yeah, I know it takes a big man to make fun of a movie that was made in 1974. Really I am just shocked I've never watched this. It looks delightfully terrible.

Mainly it's the reviews that have gotten me so choked up. From the trailer, wait and watch for these:

-Nation Review, "Run, don't walk, to this remarkable film."
-The Sun (Sydney), "An exciting film."
-The Sun, "A film to be proud of."
-The Australian, "A film that grows in your head for days afterward."

Yes, you've read correctly. The Sun is used as a reference twice (sorry, Sydney). A film to be proud of? And at this point I think it's safe to assume that The Australian is not in fact a publication at all, but more than likely An Australian who saw the movie.

I'm going to have to see this before I say anymore. Movie night anyone?

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Way Back When

I've been neglecting the Eater Blog due to the endless number of hoops that require jumping, climbing, and crawling through this month. In the absence of any new content, I've decided to raid the old hard drive for some nostalgic jpegs from "Way Back When." Hey, it's better than nothing.

Anyway, today's pic is back from when Photoshop was my baby in ole 2003. It's an excerpt from a larger project I did for a painting class that involved collecting memento "avatars" from each person I knew, and several heated discussions with the employees at Kinkos. ("You will print this out for me, young Skywalker." "Noooo!!! Never! I mustn't!" and so forth.)

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

File Fragments From the Depths of the Hard Drive... and Beyond!

ZOMG! That is hilarious!

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Eldritch and Gibbering

As it stands, I did not get any work done on the table last night. We were busy for most of the evening ferrying people from the airport to various residences throughout the city. When I got home, I was alarmed to find the studio taken over by some malevolent force from Beyond.

The two Lovecraftian adjectives that most closely describe this extra-dimensional beast are are eldritch and gibbering. And horror. I suppose you could just call it an gibbering horror that was eldritch. Or a horrible gibbering eldritch. Or just maybe just some combination of the letters. GEH.

And that's why I didn't get the chance to work on this project.

I noticed that I was lifting weights while drinking a beer today. It was a reflective moment. The internal forces that govern my person continue to wage war in this manner, vying for time and resources as they are doled out. Multitasking is an art. Oh yes, I am the eye of the storm.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Operation Haircut Freedom

The haircut was successful. It took about seventeen minutes, which adds up to about a dollar a minute plus tip. Now that's out of the way, I won't have to worry about it for a few more months. Mission successful!

Now if only I could have equal success in Operation Enduring Paycheck, this month would be off to a great start.

Current developments:

-I've managed to secure an infinite supply of old wooden doors on which I plan to build a huge diorama. Should be fun, and I look forward to getting started. Woo! May have to work in the basement for this one, which means organizing the space to handle a project of this magnitude.

-Today is a good day for music of any sort.

-If you're reading this and you are human, treat yourself to something special today. The sheer miracle of existence and conscious decision-making is yours for the taking!

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Ghosts Walk the Pavement

Besides the snazzy title and gothic artwork, I have little of insight to offer this afternoon. I was just feeling the itch to break out Photoshop and spend time working on something. Despite the sombre, confused-looking wraith drawing, I'm not in a bad mood; quite the opposite actually. I tend to lean towards darker subject matter when I'm feeling good--figure that.

We got to watch our friend Brent play Dead Rising on his Xbox 360 last Sunday. It's a fun game to watch-- loads of zombie-smashin' goodness. It makes me look forward to Halloween this year. I think there was some mention of a zombie-walk parade last year. I may need to look into that. There's nothing quite like dressing up as a zombie and shuffling down the street in public. Except maybe dressing up as Ash from the Evil Dead movies and pummeling said zombies.

Musing on the Past

It's been two years since our last trip to China. Sometimes it feels like longer. I was browsing through our photos from the trip and found this instance where we're perched on the edge of a cliff with the monstrous hills of northern Yunnan Province looming beyond. My green-on-green earth-tone garb fails to camouflage me here (seeing as how the boldly-dressed lass at my side announces our location from miles away, but that's another matter).

So yes, I'm digging out old photos, feeling nostalgic, and getting a headache trying to remember the specific locations represented by these images. It's funny that I feel I've actually blocked out or forgotten a lot of this trip already. The pixels nudge me along, and I'm thankful for their existence. I don't take many relevant pictures on trips these days. Maybe I should get back into the habit.

On the tangent of habits, I've noticed that I could use some serious discipline in my life. I've always been too sporadic an organism-- like an amoeba on a sugar rush or some other equally random thing. It's a mode that served me well back in school: wake up early on Monday, go to school for twelve hours, come home, sleep; wake up late on Tuesday, go to school for two hours, come home, eat large burrito; wake up on Wednesday, go to zoo, ect.

Unfortunately, we humans get squeezed into all kinds of odd schedules. I worked for the company Randstad as a temp a couple months back. For that brief stint I was no longer a sporadic organism. I was mostly domesticated and on-time. I clocked in every morning at exactly 8am, save for one day that I was 3 minutes late and forced by a small-dwarf-type-supervisor-thing to fill out paperwork explaining why I was 180 seconds tardy. Interesting that the tardy forms took much longer than that to fill out.

No wonder those trips to China feel like they were so long ago. I think God's trying to break my pride with this exercise. 'Here, try some humility for size,' he says. 'It builds character.'

Hmm... I'll keep working on it. As things stand, I'm human.. and quite fallible-- a work in progress.

And so the open road beckons.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Sick Day

I managed to contract a stomach bug from my dear wife this morning. I'm trying to figure out whether sitting with a blank expression and vacant thoughts is one of the symptoms, or if it's something I've developed on my own. I'm half-expecting some horrible consequence from my inaction. There is a high probability that Future Orion will barge out of a temporal portal to scold me and put me to work. For all I know, he already came today.

On the subject of time-traveling, I could also easily believe that some Orion from the Past will jump out of the hall closet and recoil in horror at what he will become. I paint the scene as he sees it: A dim room, with sunlight filtering through slats in the blinds, filled with clutter. The floor is covered with tarps and monstrous creations lay unmoving and half-finished on work tables. Two chairs in the corner: One holds a ball of sleeping fur. The other is filled with a long, skeletal figure tapping away on a keyboard. His eyes stare vacantly into a PC monitor. He's writing a blog. Oh God, no.

"Go back to your own time, lad. Stop this from happening. There is still a chance," I say as he backs away, hands covering his face in horror. He returns to the past and redoubles his efforts. Good boy.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Regressive / Progressive

Today marks another morning on the meandering path. Worth noting is that we managed to pull something out of my eye last night. It was huge, spanning the size of galaxies in some dimensions. In the here and now, it was only the size of a mote. Thank God that's over.

Weather conditions: favorable. But I'm not sure where we're going this time. Near or far? If we move back to Athens I will feel less of a need to jettison all of my belongings. I'll see my folks more.

Texas? Mystery! Excitement! Dust storms... hmm. Dust motes?

Mote.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Amazing Adventures, Issue #1!

salamander Today I sit by the window and watch the rain churn the landscape into soggy mush. A week ago snow was falling. Lots of snow.

I'm amazed by the kindness of the people in my life. You are all so generous with your time, attention, and resources. It brings me joy, which I'm finding to be a wonderful, unstoppable force once it gets going.

Love each other.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Tales from the Dreamboat

I have vivid dreams on a regular basis. While I don't put much stock in them, they are still part of my waking memory, and thus stuck in my head.

Since talking about the events of a dream in narrative fashion is akin to rambling, I will attempt to convey the contents of last night's dream by listing them as phrases.

Driving along a country road in an old truck
Rainy day that seems to leech all color out of the world
Giving someone a ride home, but they don't know where they live
Paying for someone else's meals as a kind gesture.
Reuniting a family in a convenience store
Piles of miniatures and game pieces in a freezer
A job well done
My car rolls away and falls off a cliff
Being consoled by strangers on the loss of a fine 2-door Mitsubishi Mirage

I don't think I was too upset about losing the car.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Gloved

I'm wearing two different gloves this winter. I lost a mitten somewhere out there, out in the infinite frozen timelessness that is Ohio in February, and haven't gotten around to buying a new pair. So it just happened that I found a replacement glove and I now wear that.

As you can see, the mitten is bigger than the new glove, so I look a bit unbalanced, like a fiddler crab. I was embarrassed at first, and I hid my shame. Not anymore, though. I realized that we're all different and unique, and that's what makes us special.

Fiddler crabs are here.