feeding my debris reducer

now that's a weed. dang

debris reduction

I suppose the Eco thing to do would be to grind it and mulch it, but based on the trees down that would be a deluxe grinder out of my $ range. all this is supposition. perhaps I should look into rental. soil is so sandy here that take my trees down to fine chips and mixing in would probably be good for my mini sub Eco system here. but based on what I do with fingers, drills, exacto knives, just plain walking and find door frames, gravity surges while balancing upon cinder blocks, and the butchering of the English language, I think a tree or stump grinder or a ranchette gun, for me, are just plain life threatening stupidity. .

nother haul of supplies from my BOX to the ville and rambling about my new toy post toilet drop

sure it has G4 and more voice controlled capacities (ie i can speak a text message but will I drive better?) but what's funny to me on this new phone post toilet drop (4 > 4 s) is that the primary upgrade really seems to be in quality of the camera that faces the self. hmmm so it's primary improvement is that I can now take "more better" pics of myself. I think this is very funny and highly marketable. have a feeling apple knows how egocentrical we are with all our textabating* and self snapping.

snap. snap. ya I am just testing. really :)

surely I am not as egocentrical as the next human alone with their new phone

maybe I am and, even worse, I am posting my self snap snaps on my own blog.

always check a sculptress's pocket before doing laundry.

this would be one of the more tame items!

two days later, oops, not even same one I find myself fishing out of my dad's machine. oops.

just doing

not what I'd planned but it is functional doing, and I believe there is a truck under there somewhere.

omg I need a drink

so it's a pretty day and my new washer broke. grrrr. perk, new cell phone held signal for entire service call via speaker setting while phone was set in a wine glass (parabolic shape ? increases signal strength).

I am not going to think about it. I am not going to think about it I am not going to think about it I am not going to think about it

the fog is burned off
fields green
sky is bluing up
cattle are nuzzling
and I am returning to home depot
because I left with what the guy handed me, a female compression joint
pulled in drive not even debelted
knew I had to travel 30 more for
the male compression fitting
oh undisclosed cursing and tears
stop thinking about it
focus on pretty drive
again

oh yes and i dropped my iphone in the toilet
perk - it was prior to use
oh yes and i drilled my finger with a phillips head drill bit
perk - i don't own a gun

oh yes and i hopped on my monogeared, fat tired sissy bike and road long and hard through the hills like a ten year old on the first day of summer with the wind in my hair and a helmet left behind because i figured what the heck!! and i couldn't check my stupid smart phone post midday toilet drop; it was the best afternoon ever.

oh yes...i got the compression fitting on and it's true, I HAVE A FUNCTIONING WATER HEATER
perk - i wont stink tomorrow!

omg.

looked under running board to see what that thing was...omg! I actually hate that.

one of three; so I don't get it

here is one of my practice solder trials. looks just like video on this old house. but I keep getting big turds of solder on actual plumbing. dang. not hot enough? burned off all flux? it was properly prepared. dang dang. still no hot water. so now I've picked up a compression fitting. I really wanted simple solder solution!!! sometimes what I dislike about being a chica is that I didn't get handyman lessons as a little girl! instead I loaded the dishwasher. I don't even own a dishwasher!! ok little frustrated and feeling a few undisclosed curse words locked under my lips. ps am glad I am female. just frustrated at what I don't know.

aaagggh

run to store and replenish diet coke stash OR NOT. agggh. give it up or not. kicking and screaming. agggh!!! its my only gosh darn (undisclosed curse words) real vice!!!!! agggh. but it's so freaking bad for my brain. when did those gumballs come out? 1984ish? nutrasweet. studied it in organic chemistry = not good. coming up on almost thirty years. really can't be good. i want my freaking diet coke but i don't want it! aggggh.

just beautiful, worthy of regular and ongoing passage

sort and stack

what is done and still to go.

but (ha) my back is TIREd so I am done for the morning and headed to my expert's casa (dad) with some scrap plumbing pipe to get lessons so I can solder on new screw attachment element so I can hook up hot water heater. old fixture is dilapidated and leak after wrenching loose old hoses and such.

reload and rolling again

oh BAT! literally

the right to (dis) assemble... ready for re-load

pre-jello to absolutely jello-ed girl arms

will have to de-jellofy jellied off load to coordinate with sans jellied organization another day. still have 1/3 more that must disembark prior to texas state deinstall trailer load that will then get translocated and reinstalled at another campus.

unjellied sorted and tidy piles

omg-osh jellified armification heaps

some days I wish I were a painter (not really).

never have this problem in route to the hermitage

delicate debilitating decay compounded by un-deferentiated decisions

hmmmm. within two months, ac/heater went belly up and couldn't even exhaust her final death gasp. died; dead, dead, dead. it was to be expected within first few years as she was a bit aged. but months? replaced. today, 6 months in, water heater has relieved herself and will be maintaining her incontinence. she too displayed her age when we met with her rusty oozy joints and bottom end. :O but wouldn't trade the hermitage or microforest with its mini meadow. nope. but my wallet's feeling her decay.

"OH SNAP!" as a five year old I once knew would always say...as I stand here contemplating her new needed bladder!!

eeny miney moe best better good.

time passes ---

crud! power off. in theory. check. rechecked with beepy power checker. no beeping. check. garden hose hooked up. check. water to house shut off. check. hot water faucet valves at sinks open. check. faucet at hose attached to water heater opened. check. DANG DON'T KNOW HOW TO OPEN RELIEF VALUE. old tank still full. cell reception doesn't work for voice support. shit. or go back and pay 200 bucks to have some one connect two lines and twisty tie one electrical. double pooh. dang dang dang. I have no experience so it's all a matter of reading the spoty instructions. double dang. I want it to be more straight forward. I think I am going for a walk and have a short get over it cry (a relief valve I know how to operate!)

now hot shower tonight. need home depot run again to get a joint because I can't loosen this silly doohickey.

strolling

tomorrow and the next I expect

will be days of shallow surfaces
lacking the expected movement of living breath
that resides within real space
with flattened out identities
pressed stiff and planar
mostly desaturated in muteness
leaning toward the binary
of blackness and whiteness

forward to these days
were the static dot and square
will quicken
have i looked and waited

anticipation

poetic translation...
some of my favorite creative assignments
for my WASHer foundation students come due tomorrow;
i expect to be wowed... 

and hope to post a plethora
of their imaginings realized

---

[identity essentials + human comp collabs]
identity essentials seemed a natural response to a lecture i give on feminism in art (largely focused on essentialism) and grew out of my imaginings of how the feminist artists used their bodies to communicate the deeply personal. the human comp collabs were just one of those things that "came to me" as a desire to extend traditional gestalt dot comp exercises into human space. like much art, science, etc, the idea of these projects just "came to me." i had experience, an understanding of the domain, but the extension into the territory of these projects just happened. yes i've been refining them, unpacking their purposes in pedagogical terms and stuffing them into logic based formats, and such, but for the most part the heart of these projects remain almost solely intact to my original ideations. teaching and art overlap absolutely in the creative process.

the usual way

to and fro from my dad's -- I like the back slow country lanes.



one blue wood frame in particular I always note in my slow meander. it is their Esperanza I wish to see, each time i ease east or west. yesterday late afternoon I idled past hunting for the hazy hints of green leaf buds; and what of today? yet? i still don't know for I was taken aback with not even a glance at the brown stems because of the still smolder remnant blue walls of the now old gutted home.never a soul I did see there until today. it stirred a deep sadness.

revisiting the dead horses of forgiveness

it is not that this one or that has more will power or even faith. it is not that this one or that follows more than another. it is not a function of forgetting or pretend. it is not even in proportion to the perceived atrocities. as a watcher, i've witnessed it as almost purely a function of the amalgamation of the way in which one's disposition and personality combine with how life experiences have shaped the soul. thus the capacity to forgive or not, living within the realms of reconciliation or not, is simply a part of one's internal fabric. not as a rule but the capacity for forgiveness also tends to be woven through some family's lines, not each thread, but it is there woven in. again not because they are better than but it seems simply to be built into their fabric and histories.

forgiveness and reconciliation in reality seem to have no actual relationship to one's faith. perhaps it should, perhaps we are called to it, but it simply does not play out that way.

you may disagree with me, but then again you may equate forgiveness as a form of tolerance, a lack of vengeance, lack of hostile emotions, some type of passivity or silence, or hoop construction or even a distant well wishing. though these might be important, they simply bare no resemblance to what I think of as forgiveness, what we are called to or what Christians claim as God's forgiveness.

should we try, even if counter to our nature and family histories? absolutely, by all means do try. just don't hold your tolerance, diminished hostility, receding need to blame or be better than, or withheld vengeance, passivity or distant well wishing, out as though it were forgiveness. good things, yes; forgiveness, not really.

once again i find myself revisiting dead horses. i do try not to beat them, instead i only contemplate their remnant carcasses.

i have yet to witness one actual human example counter to my direct observations.

I'd love to be wrong.

it's a flowering tree but that's all I know

 
reminds me of a dogwood but not sure that is right. also looks like illustration of crabapple but leaf seems wrong since it has smooth edge. no idea.
 

my fig trees are leafing (these are definitely not my fig trees). the birds will defruit faster than they come to term.

happens each day

in my own sniveling snot (this title is so disgusting, I like it)

as I tread through 90 plus storyLINEs (creative writing projects, either about crossing the line or staying in line), sometimes I ripple with mild laughter or a breath of beauty, sometimes I look up as though they are speaking directly to me, largely i feel a swell of insight and respect for them for they have almost literally plunged fully into the deep end of their own pools without a floaty. i've asked them to do this and whatever it is about my nature they tend to trust and jump. problem, which is my own, perhaps due to the way in which i am cobbled together and what is submerged within myself, I just start sinking into their pools which surge with the depth of their wounds, struggles to sense their own belonging, grief and sense of otherness. between the ones that make me laugh or catch my breath, I end up a big ball of sniveling snot. makes reading difficult. fortunately I don't grade these. how could I possibly grade the content of another's soul pool? so instead the stories function as springboards in developing a linear work that pulls mood, movement and materiality from their own storyLINE to create a single visually realized gesture, an ARTifact.

perhaps next semester I should be selfish and rethink the writing to put them in the shallow end for my sake. though most usually aren't all that funny when they try to be (neither am I). so I'll probably be crying in the pools and dripping on my iPhone again this time next semester.

just some student mark making (line) explorations