Bari Quippe Boni.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Shabby chic.

Confession time.
I fell off my bike a few nights ago. It was preceded by smoking one hundred cigarettes and drinking the equivalent of one hundred beers. I'm not proud or bragging. I'm simply saying. I'd like to think I'm more nimble on my bike without the outside inhibitors. In fact, know I am. Egad.

I also know I'm more capable socially sans hundreds of things. Well in this case I'll say everything in moderation. I drink or smoke shared in friendship is an incredible tool. Long story very short I'll say only that I was having a cringe-y next day. Here's hoping all the people I like still like me... ha. I'm beginning to think that my 'dancing' has become a series of convulsions peppered with dramatic pauses and epic lifting of people around me. I don't want to be that person. Well, hell I don't want to be a lot of people. But that say you are the things you hate. I fear this phrase more than most. I still believe one should let sleeping dogs lie.

Every once in a while I do cool things. But not consistently. I feel this is offset by the fact that I do not do uncool things consistently. So I'm good right? I've recently made a short film with friends, completed another set in a series of art projects and re-organized the entertainment unit in my house. And yet... I can spin plans with the best of them. If I accomplished half of the things I set out for myself my life would be rich an envied. Since I don't, I'm left wondering if anyone if there are any things one envies me for. I don't dwell on it for long mind you. Just while I'm particularly bored. I think, why am I bored? I have unlimited things I could be doing?! These are the moments we all live in when we make tens of 'new year's' style resolutions

This incredibly intimate post into my online diary will no doubt make me out to be the tortured soul that is portrayed in so many elaborate ad campaigns and all women want. Or the complete opposite will happen. cool!

No fancy pictures to post this time. But here's a passage that I'll be reading at two of my best friends' wedding later this month. [I think it's a beautiful sentiment]

“Union” by Robert Fulghum

“You have known each other from the first glance of acquaintance to this point of commitment. At some point, you decided to marry. From that moment of yes to this moment of yes, indeed, you have been making promises and agreements in an informal way. All those conversations that were held riding in a car or over a meal or during long walks - all those sentences that began with “When we’re married” and continued with “I will and you will and we will”- those late night talks that included “someday” and “somehow” and “maybe”- and all those promises that are unspoken matters of the heart. All these common things, and more, are the real process of a wedding. The symbolic vows that you are about to make are a way of saying to one another, “You know all those things we’ve promised and hoped and dreamed- well, I meant it all, every word.” Look at one another and remember this moment in time. Before this moment you have been many things to one another- acquaintance, friend, companion, lover, dancing partner, and even teacher, for you have learned much from one another in these last few years. Now you shall say a few words that take you across a threshold of life, and things will never quite be the same between you. For after these vows, you shall say to the world, this- is my husband, this- is my wife.”

also this makes me want to sing with 4 friends. [Please god ignore the images, just listen]

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Things I've made out of old T shirts.

Step one.

Get yourself the comfiest t-shirt you own. It helps if it's too crappy to wear on the regular. Or Just one you're over. I'm siphoning out my 'joke' shirts. In an attempt to grow up. Dammit.
Gather your scissors, sewing machine and pattern. Along with some cheap elastic. You're about to be killing it in the underwear department.

Step two.

Pin your pattern to the T.

Step three.

Cut it out!

Step four.

I've realized I cannot fully explain exactly what to do without video or some serious blueprint type pictures... So I'm going to keep my head down and run right through it. While sewing the pattern together (not including the elastic) you can use the ol' straight stitch.

Sew the side of the crotch (ha!) pieces together and then to one side of the main piece. Then to have the proper side of the material showing you have to roll the fabric up into the crotch (ha!) piece.

Step five.

Sew in the deepest most intimate part of the crotch (ha!)

Step six.

For a 34 inch waist you need only 29 inches of elastic. So it' stays up and You don't have to take up a trade. It's best to use new elastic. Old stuff will stretch out immediately and you'll be showing off pubic hair like a 60s star.

Step seven.

Sew the ends of the elastic together by using a straight stitch at first, then fold the ends back and use a zig-zag or 3 step zig-zag to secure it. The zig-zag stitch can stretch so the thread doesn't break, leaving your edges unfinished and crappy. Underwear is not meant to be crappy. *pause*

The trick is, only pin 4 corners and stretch the elastic out as you attatch it to the fabric.

Step eight.

Finish the edges along the bottom by folding it over once and use a zig-zag stitch. Then strike a pose.

Here are the others I've made. I'm pretty happy with the results. These home-made pairs are my favourites of my underepetoire. And It's a never ending supply! As underwear is on the way out, as are the T-shirts. It's a vicious cycle.

The blue ones were my first attempts using old elastic and learning quickly. The brown and dark blue are my attempt to customize. I Cut mylar plastic out with an exacto and just used fabric paint. They look rather bad... But hell. I'm not Miss J. Or Even Dr. J.

Yesterday I attempted to raid and rid. Raid my closet and drawers and rid myself of useless items. My gosh is it difficult. I would love to have a house fire something equally monumental that would result is starting my situation over from scratch. It's not that I'd do it much different. I'd just like a reason to throw away things I want to keep... If you follow. For instance. I've got T-shirts from old improv teams I've been on or coached and I don't want to get rid of them, they hold so many incredible(ly lame) memories. I'm not about to get them framed and mounted, but I'm also not going to make them into ass-gear.

It's the same with objects. In my direct line of sight, I can see old art, souveneirs from trips, a gift from my ninth birthday and other random shit like that fanny pack I sport sometimes and my Liquor teat. Pens, books, CDs, papers of all kinds, a plaster mold of my teeth, scraps of material, wax, earplugs, seat belts, candles, half finished/begun projects... Ad infinitum.

I realize this looks a lot like the last meaty post I made... So I'm going to end this train of thought with this: I need an intervention. Something or someone to remind me that no matter how long I keep something It will not become anymore useful or valuable enough to have it take up room in my room/life. Having said that, why did I pick up that pile of 40 archie comics from the 70s on the way home the other night...?

Because stuff is cool. It's fun to play with for awhile. I just need to grasp when it wears out it's welcome.

Please disregard this as I will not proof read it.

Monday, September 22, 2008

new colour...?

White is the new blank.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Wood things I've made.

Here I am watching Dragon's den (way to be CBC) and I'm getting all emotional about making things. Due to the fact that it's 2:30am and I've already done a project tonight I'm not about to start making something. Not to mention the fact that I have a breakfast date tomorrow...

But I can flex my exhibitionism by showing a few pictures.

This is a desk I made for myself from scrap wood in the back. As well as a peice of plexiglass so I can put photos and the like underneath. I always loved my family coffee table for that feature.

A little while ago I put together a few things for an art show. In essence the theme was 'old'. I decided to make chalkboards. Here are a few shots of my brother and I working on them. (I never take enough pictures...)

Two scissor designs. One cutting tool that makes a sound that is insane.

Donald my youngest brother giving me a hand sanding the edges of my apple before I paint. See the pencil sharpener...? Once it was painted it's a bit hard to make out. I sold the apple and scissors, but the pencil sharpener stays with me. (I've got more on the way)



Another feeling I'm hit with tonight is a fondness for my roomies. I've been contemplating the imminent departure of my oldest and dearest roommate, James. He's Got the fever and is making moves in the right direction... Well east anyway.

I moved into this house and made it my home in November of last year. I was hesitant but mostly excited to get out of my father's house (for the second time). I took my things back into pa's house after I was made to leave the apartment I was occupying... With my now 'ex' girlfriend. But I digress. In coming here, I gained more space than I had at dad's house. It's not like he was a tyrant or that it was a box in an alley, it was more a matter of having to deal with his possessions. I wish I had photographic evidence to show what I had to deal with. It's a tale in itself which I'd gladly tell. I literally (literally) had only a wide enough path through the basement to get to my room. Now I can annoy my roomies by leaving my things everywhere! I have my pop to thank for that habit I suspect.

To put it in the simplest terms, my time at the mansion has been good. I've been considering the disposable nature of our lives. We don't buy albums, we download and google the cover art. We don't invite our friends over to look at slides, we sit and cycle through semi-strangers' photos alone. And what happens when my computer implodes and creates a black hole devouring the earth? No more pics! golly!

I have an idea. A big idea. An idea that requires me to use the word more than once in very small scentences and then one large one. Time capsule. No lie. I'm pumped for this idea. and enthusiastic, but not enough to stay awake past 4am... Breakfast in five and a half hours...

Saturday, August 16, 2008

I met Chris Walter before you met Chris Walter

yeah, him

He was in the airport looking normal... Except of course for the scalp tattoo.

this too:

I just had a neat idea.

See above.
There is a monthly party I like to attend. they're put on by my good pals. More formally and to strangers it's known as the 'hot rocks party consortium' (are they known..?) It's a combo dance party and reason to make art, then sell it to the party goers. I made some stuff for the first party, I missed the second and the third installment is quickly approaching. I'm pumped. Especially having missed the second.
Since I'm thinking about it and this thing has taken a turn for the textiles. check these out. I made them (I made a bunch, but didn't take pictures... I didn't realize they would all sell.)

This is a straight shot of one of the more boring poses...
One's up top and the other's on the far right.

I'm really excited for my new idea. Really excited. If you're nice to me, and really prose up the request... I may tell you what I'm planning. Probably not. Because if it doesn't work out, I'll look like a fool.
The only hint I can give you is that the theme of this party is: 'spirited energy, the revenge of the oldies.'
aka. Old people. aka grand-people.
***condensed version of hint: Old school***