deeol

As usual, ignore the pointless photo. It was good tea, though.

Back in the days before Facebook made nearly everyone on the internet realise that it was ok to NOT be anonymous, I was deeol. Actually, I still am, but years ago that's all I was to computerland. I still have a couple of email addresses that are only deeol@... (yeah, try to get that short of a handle these days), and the two Gmail addresses that I still maintain start with deeol.

Why deeol? Simple, really. Dee from my first name (lots of people call me Dee, actually. You're welcome to as well), and Ol from my last name.

I'm nothing if not creative.

So deeol I became. Deeol when I commented, deeol when I joined forums, deeol when I became an admin for one.

Remember forums? They were great when they were still needed.

Anyway (my two fans were waiting for the anyway), I was only deeol for a long time, and that's how a few people still see me. Never mind that professionally I've been Diane Olson and, more casually, Dee Olson, for years now.

Deeol's still there, though.

Deeol still comments, even with sites that demand "real names". I'll give my full name, but still make my public comment with deeol.

Why haven't I given up on deeol? No psychoanalysis needed, really. Deeol is me, point blank. It was the mask in the days of internet anonymity, but if anyone had looked, it was a mask made of plastic wrap. I never hid behind deeol. I still don't.

It was always lower case, by the way. It wasn't Deeol, even though I typed it that way several times in this post. It was always deeol to me. And why?

Because I'm lazy. Yes, seriously.

Anyway, if you see deeol anywhere, it's still probably me. Even if I'm being Dee Olson or Diane or whoever the eff I am at the moment. I never know.

I'm still always deeol.

Me. And maybe you'll understand some things.

Yeah, I know that I don't post actual me on the blog. This post needs it, though. So here we go...

When I was five, I already didn't believe in Santa Claus. I can't remember why.

When I was seven, I tried out for the new church choir director. She later became my singing teacher and encouraged me to enter the local competition.

When I was ten, I did my last piano competition. The huge blue nervous veins on my hands gave my mother the clue.

When I was twelve, I started playing the oboe for Band. Not my choice, but whatever.

When I was thirteen, I took the only art course I was ever able to fit in to my assigned curriculum.

When I was fourteen, I was so explicitly bullied that I hated school. I'd always loved school, because I came from a family of teachers and wanted to learn.

When I was fourteen, again, the guidance councillor looked at my midterms and told me that I was going into science. I didn't argue. It seemed reasonable. I liked science.

When I was fifteen, I had about three friends because I was a nerd in a small town.

When I was seventeen, I was a nerd in a big city university. I found out that it was normal. And there was a choir I could still sing in, even with science.

When  I was twenty, I didn't know what the hell I was going to do with a shiny new degree in a tanking economy.

When I was an older twenty, I got a job at a small city nature centre. Well, I thought, at least I'll be able to use that degree a bit.

When I was twenty-three, I needed some illustrations so I admitted to my supervisor that I could draw.

When I was a bit of an older twenty-three, I decided to take some ECD courses at the local college. I dropped out at mid-term, because they were pointless. The advisor said "but you're one of our most promising students..." Yeah, that should tell you something.

When I was twenty-four I took on the task of helping my former singing teacher with her choir. I cluelessly didn't realise that she wanted me to take it over.

When I was twenty-five I entered my first singing contest in years and won my first ever solo trophy. Some voices take a while.

When I was twenty-nine I had a (small town) award winning choir, was teaching singing, and was a part time naturalist at that nature centre.

When I was twenty-nine my mom died.

When I was thirty, I was a naturalist/interpreter and drew a bit.

When I was thirty-five, I was supervising interpreters and illustrating things that needed illustrations.

When I was forty-ish, I started handling work's Twitter account unofficially, because I had the time.

When I was forty-six, I had Social Media Coordinator added to my title of School & Youth Programs.

When I was forty-seven, I figured out that this accidental life has allowed me both science and art, and that's a pretty good thing that most people don't get.

Yeah, that's it. For now.

Random stuff, aka I have no idea what I'm about to type.

Today's photo: a bad shot of a Goat's Beard seed head that I made "better" by editing the bejeebers out of it. That counts as art, right?

Today's annoyance: not one, but four different media outlets that seem incapable of figuring out the whole its versus it's thing. If it's on twitter, fine (well, not fine. I wish people would learn this stuff in elementary school like they're supposed to). If it's coming from a professional journalist working for a professional media organisation, then not fine.

Today's pointless puzzlement: people have been listing their seven favourite movies and seven favourite television shows on twitter (#7FavMovies and #7FavTVShows). I...don't think I can. Not that I'm ashamed of anything I watch; more like I can't really think of seven favourites in either category. People who know me wouldn't be surprised at the movie part since "I haven't seen it" seems to be a recurrent in my life, but even as far as TV goes it's a puzzle. My TV is on most of the time, true, but it's mainly producing white noise to mask the sounds from neighbouring apartments.

Today's weather: Sunny. Becoming a mix of sun and cloud this afternoon. Wind south 20 km/h. High 29. Humidex 32. UV index 7 or high.

Today's comment on the weather: Fan-effing-tastic. By the time I get back into town my apartment will be a sauna.

And on that happy note I'll end this truly pointless post and do a couple of scheduled ones. It seems to be the only way I can remember to blog at this point.





Actual point that time. See you in virtual tomorrow.

Playing with rocks

 A while ago I was trying to distract myself with a headache by making patterns and such with the rocks that I wear.

I wear a lot of different rocks. My two fans have seen many of them featured here already. I figure that it's a harmless pastime, though, and since it's the kind of jewellery that goes well with my work, better to have the fun, cheap stuff than to put actual money into things that aren't so fun.

I've deleted the majority of the photos, but I had to keep a couple. If nothing else, it's filler for what's been a very empty blog of late.

Do I know what all of these rocks are? You better believe I do. And you're gonna hear it.

Up top: Carnelian, Sodalite, Kambaba (or Alligator) Jasper, Dalmatian Jasper, Labradorite, Red Jasper (someone seems to have a thing for jasper...), Something that may or may not be a rock (I've had it since high school), Red Obsidian, and Picture Jasper.

Left: a necklace of Iolite, Carnelian, and Opalite (which isn't a rock. It's glass or plastic coated to mimic Opal) surrounding Blue Tiger's Eye, Lapis Lazuli, Snowflake Obsidian, Tree Agate, Zebra Jasper, Jade, Leopard Jasper, Crysotile Asbestos, and Ammolite.

The Ammolite wouldn't be considered a good piece because it mostly just shifts red and green. I don't care; I like it, and it was much cheaper that way.

Those unfamiliar with the program are now thinking "that's a lot of rocks". Oh, so wrong. That's maybe a third of them. Maybe. The rest are just pendants and made for more boring pictures that were, as I mentioned before, deleted.

Rock stores are my friends...

Honestly, though, the rocks make me feel good. Not in a spiritual way or anything like that. It's more about having something non-synthetic (well, except for the Opalite) dangling from my neck. Besides, most of them are nice to play with, and that's an important thing for a fidget like me.

----------

I got out and took a few photos with my actual camera today, so I'm going to do a couple of scheduled posts now in case my week goes the way most of my weeks go as far as the blog is concerned. Catch you reading later.

Any moth people out there?

I noticed this outside our back door at work the other day, and haven't had time to ID it yet. I'm curious.

I haven't had time is the theme of the blog, by the way. Sorry for the lack of posting.

And the short posts.





Like this one.

Pointless photo of the week or whatever:

I really need to get out and take some new pictures.

And, um, blog more.

Yeah, I know I'm the incredible disappearing me lately, but twitter's faster.

When I remember that I have a twitter account, that is.

Ah well. Maybe tomorrow there'll be something of substance here. Maybe.

Hands up all who believe that.

Yes, there will probably be a blog post today. At some point.

Not counting this one, of course.

I was planning to blog (properly) this morning, but now I think I'll wait until I've taken the camera out in the yard to see what I can find. That way, if nothing else at least there should be flowers.



Ah, come on. Everybody likes flowers, right?

Quick note

I may actually post today. I mean, proper post. I'd like to get out and take some new photos first (even though they'll probably suck because it's a drab, windy day).

Sorry the place has been so neglected, but hey. Priorities, you know? And this is why I've been thinking about making my twitter account an active one rather than just using it for following. Not that anyone would follow me, of course, but twitter's just so much faster than bothering with a blog post...



Until later, then. Maybe.

Posting? What's that?

Yeah, I've been pretty quiet this past... what? month? year? Whichever.

The reason? Stuff. Sorry, that's the best I've got. Just recently? Busy, not in the mood, busy, not around, buggered up knee, busy... I could go on, but it doesn't mean anything if you weren't there, I suppose.

The knee was just last week, however. Managed to take a fall in my own apartment (don't even ask) and landed hard with a twist. For a couple of days I hobbled around the place pretty sure that I'd torn something, but now it's acting more like just a sprain. It made yesterday's three hour programming fest out at a school interesting, though. First of all, the classrooms were on the second floor. Yeah, even just getting there was interesting. The kids were great, at least, so that makes up for a lot.

This is all you're getting today, I'm afraid. I really do need to get back to work. Besides, Louis Armstrong's playing Frankie and Johnny, and there's chair dancing to be done.



Um, gingerly (as opposed to astairely). It'd be just like me to re-twist my knee doing a stupid chair dance. Ah well, at least it would be exercise.

Later.

Books. And books. And tea.

And a random cat, because.

And incidentally, sometimes even in this day and age of "brainless" blogging applications that work just like a word processor, it can still help to have a smidgen of HTML. A slight computer glitch (operator-caused, I freely admit) threw some really random stuff on this post when I had to save to draft. All gone now, though.

I think.

Anyway, books. I have a lot of books. I have less books than I used to since I'm getting a lot better at giving things away when I know that they're one-use books, but I still have a lot of books.

I like books.

I'd never manage with an e-reader, because... well, it's not a book. I have a DS card that has a bunch of classic books on it, and I almost never use it because it's just. not. a. book. It's a thing pretending to be a book. It doesn't have the feel of a book (see previous art rants for my whole weird thing about texture), it doesn't have the smell of a book, and it doesn't have the utility of a book. What do I mean? Well, as an example, if I baked using recipes I'd looked up electronically, I'd have flour-covered electronic devices. Easier to clean up a cook book. If I travel with e-books and forget to bring a charger/extra batteries, I'm kind of screwed when the power runs out.

And besides, people. Books.

Having said that, my two fans may have noticed that a while ago I removed the bookshelf that used to be on the sidebar. And why is that, Dee? Oh, well, it was kind of cluttering things up, and I kept forgetting to update it. Besides, the only thing I ever went to that site for was to update the bookshelf, and it seemed kind of pointless.

So here's the thing. I kind of figured that I might add photos of the books I'm currently reading to the regular rotation of pointless photos here. I even took a bunch of shots, which I've since deleted. And why? There are better pictures online at the Home of All Things That Used To Be Just Books And Is Now Apparently The Universe (official title, yes), for one thing. For another, do you really care if I'm currently reading a book on printing, a book on book-making (yes, seriously), and (trying my damnedest to re-read) The (concise) Golden Bough? Or that I'm thinking of buying a Deborah Cadbury book?

You probably don't. But it is my blog (as I used to say too often: my house, my rules), and I'm generally short of topic matter.

In other words, it'll probably happen. Bad photos and all.

----------

We've had in other words already, so now here's in other news:

In other news, I think I'm going to have to buy some tea. The Christmas gift tea is pretty near gone, and when I went to fill my infuser for work the other day I was reminded that what looks like a humongous stash is actually several tins that have enough for about two cups each. I might -- gasp -- have to resort to using tea bags, folks.

And for those new to the blog, I should say that I'm really not that much of a tea snob. I've just got used to loose teas, that's all.

You really missed tea talk, didn't you?



Oh, don't make that face.

At any rate, I may be doing some tea cruising this afternoon, and I'm sure you'll find out the results soon enough.





Next up, rocks.

No, I'm not kidding.



Oh, don't make that face.

Something

It's never a good thing when the post is titled Something. Something is usually just a placeholder for me. It gets changed when I figure out what I want to write about.

You'll notice that it hasn't been changed.

Not a good sign.



Yeah, I guess I don't really have anything to write about but the weather today. Rainy with a side of pseudohurricane, which at a nature centre basically means that you could count the number of visitors we've had today so far with the fingers on one hand and still have enough fingers left to knit with.

If, erm, that's your thing.

A totally uninspiring day, and not surprisingly it leads to very little blather inspiration. Oh, I could complain about the usuals or tell you what stone I'm wearing today (the petrified shark's tooth), but you hear enough about that as it goes anyway. My two fans will know that sometimes I just keep typing in the hopes that something will occur to me, but that's not looking...

Oh, maybe... wait for it...

No, the fact that I put a little too much mustard in my coleslaw dressing this morning doesn't count as a blog topic. I do like mustard, though. However, I think I've already even blogged mustard. Yep, just checked and I've blogged mustard several times.

Several posts about mustard. I think I may need mustard therapy.



Anyway, this is going nowhere so I'm stopping now.

That part will be obvious in a moment, you know.





You're welcome.

Sigh

The post you see below was actually yesterday's, not today. Apparently it didn't publish. Ah well, read it as though it was Sunday, and read this as though I'm extremely busy right now because I am.

Later...

You know you've got nothing when...

... you're seriously thinking of writing a post about your travel mug.

Yes, really. My two fans may remember how much I hated my old mug? Well, I don't hate this one. Contigo. And since Wheat got it for me from Costco it didn't cost nearly as much as their website says they do.

I do find it funny that nowadays many of us walk around daily with what's basically a sippy cup for adults, though.

Aaanyway.

I really wish I did have something, because I know that blogging's a bit light lately. I must be on weekend brain even though I'm at work, unfortunately (the brain part, not the work), because the blogging thought process has been What can I talk about? My sippy cup? The fact that I like to wear rocks? My rings, yet again? But I like rings. I wish I could wear more jewellery at work, but considering my job and the fact that my uniform shirt is a t-shirt it would probably look weird. I just downloaded a game for the 3DS and it took FOREVER. Do you think that anyone would care? I wonder if I should stop for a fast-food (late) lunch on my way home instead of using the perfectly good food in my fridge...

Yeah, seriously. How messed up would any of those non-topics have been?

I did think of saying something about the fact that it's sort of odd that the Discovery Channel's run so many episodes of Mayday in the past couple of days when no one's even been able to find that Malaysian airplane yet, but I'm sure that was probably just coincidence.

Or was it?

Dun dun duuuh...





Ok, this is just getting weird now. Obviously I don't have the brain to actually have a topic today, so I think I'll stop typing before it gets even weirder. See you in a day or two, since I won't be near a computer tomorrow.



And because you're dying to know, I'm sure, I'm currently wearing my grandmother's topaz -- the yellow one, not the blue one -- my rolling ring, and a piece of Baltic Amber. I've had a hankering YES I SAID HANKERING for a bit of lapis lately, for whatever reason. Maybe because it's pretty. I foresee a trip to the rock store in my not-too-distant future.

Geez louise. Stop typing already, Dee.

Ok, then.

The pie yesterday was nice, by the way. I had saskatoon, and a bit of quiche as well. The quiche first. We should have more pie days, I think.



STOP TYPING.

Ok, then.

Things lead to more things. Always.

That sounded really philosophical there for a minute, didn't it? Ah well, don't worry. I'm not intending to be all deep.

Rather the opposite, actually.

I spent a while yesterday browsing around the virtual shops for photography stuff. After all, a new camera may say that it's ready to go right out of the box, but that's just for the basics. I don't want to stay on the basics forever. You don't want me to, either. The faster we get away from frozen pumpkin pictures, the better.

So what else do I need for the camera? A few things, that thankfully can come in dribs and drabs. I've already bought a case (apparently carrying the thing around in a toque is fairly frowned upon. Or at least giggled at, as I quickly found out) and a card reader. I'm avoiding, for the moment at least, the expensive cable that I'm still more than po'd wasn't included with the camera. I mean, that's fine if the camera takes a standard cable that you can find anywhere, but that certainly doesn't seem to be the case here. HDMI cable? Well, that can wait, too. I haven't even really done anything about taking video yet.

Cleaning things I could mostly scam from the gadget bag that has my old Minolta film camera in it. I was out of lens paper, but Dad had some so I'm good there. I already have a full-sized tripod, and a fantastic tripod of Dad's that folds out to full size but folds up to a mini. I know you can still find stuff like that out there, but there's no way you'll find one as well built as this vintage tripod.

What does that leave, then?

Too much.

I need some filters, for one thing, and of course this camera's a 52 mm so my 48 mm (I think...) Minolta stuff is no-go. I could buy an adapter, I suppose, but a person may as well go for the ones that fit. It's not like my old filters were terribly expensive anyway, and why would I want to fit a smaller filter onto the lens in the first place? So what filters, then? I'd definitely like a polarizer, because I'd miss having one. I always used to keep a skylight on the Minolta for protection, but I see that there's two schools of thought as to whether they're necessary -- or even wanted -- these days, what with auto white-balance and all. Anything else? Maybe a fluorescent, since incandescent bulbs are disappearing rapidly. How about 4-point stars, or rainbows, or softeners? Not sure I want to go back to taking photos like a teenage girl, to be honest. It seems weird to finally have a proper SLR again and then consider using it for glorified instagram pictures.

That leads me to books. I've been looking at books. Cameras today have so many functions, it'd be a shame not to know how to use them. So, a book that specifically refers to my camera would be nice, and then an overall DSLR reference. Or references. I've found a few that look promising, but they can sit on my wish list for now.

That takes me to the toys, naturally. Flashes. Remote releases. That macro lens that I already have in mind but need to wait until after car insurance and income tax to pay for. Maybe a gadget bag specifically for this camera so that the Minolta doesn't have to find new digs...





Sigh. You get what I'm meaning now by things leading to other things. Do I need all of these things for my new camera thing? Of course not. Some of them, like the cleaning kit, are necessary. Most of them are just things that I'd like to have, and they can wait. It's still a dangerous thing to be looking at things, though.

Probably safer to be looking at lunch. Just a note on posting before I go, then. I have a pretty busy month coming up (read that as: you're going to be reading the word planetarium a bit), so don't be surprised if my blatherage becomes a little more irregular for a while. But then, most of my two fans are used to the ups and downs of this blog by now.

The others will just have to find something else to read.

Look, a bird

Ok, so it's a ladybird rather than a bird bird. And yes, I grew up calling them ladybugs like 99% of the people on the left side of the Atlantic. The professional naturalist in me knows that they're beetles rather than bugs, though, so I've tended to shift my terminology over the years. Just like gophers have become ground squirrels, especially when I'm talking to the public. Er, except for the Pocket Gopher, which isn't a ground squirrel (and is, in fact, a gopher).

But that's not why you called.

There's a whackload (the official scientific term) of chickadees outside my office widow right now, cracking open sunflower seeds from a nearby feeder, chasing each other around, and generally being distracting. It's not unusual to see birds outside the window here; the nature centre is, after all, at the entrance to a wildlife sanctuary, and there's a cluster of bushes right here that gives them perfect roosts and shelter. Lately we've even had a flicker coming by regularly and sitting on the top of the window frame. We generally only get to see his bottom half, but we figure that he's probably cleaning dead insects and such from the building. If that's the case, more power to him. Or it. I haven't got a good enough look to know whether it's a he or a she.

All this is probably making me sound like I know what I'm talking about, but mostly I suck at birds (and I've really got to start watching how I use the phrase suck at. The person who asked for permission to use my ground squirrel -- not gopher -- drawing yesterday found it in a post on the other blog in which I boldly stated I suck at ground squirrels. It made for an interesting exchange of business e-mails afterwards, I can tell you. Note that you used the phrase professional naturalist a couple of paragraphs above this, Dee. Suck at doesn't really indicate professional anything. Well, one thing, maybe. But we all need to get our minds out of the gutter at this point). Oh, I know my basics after all of these years doing the job I do, but I always hesitate to answer bird questions. It's partly because I'm not as comfortable with birds as I am with mammals and plants (of the three, by the way, mammals are by far the cuddliest...), but largely because there are so many real birders out there. Birders can tend to be obsessive, and if I'm asked a bird question by somebody other than a child or someone who's just put up their first bird feeder, the chances are that the person asking the question already knows about five times more about the subject than I do.

Aaanyway. The reason I started this post, and the reason for the post title (which has become something of a shorthand amongst some of us for Sorry, but I just got distracted) is that work, health, and life have been a bit like a shrub full of chickadees for me lately. I seem to be chasing around branches, twittering (as opposed to tweeting, which I've also been doing. Only on the work account, though) and flighty, and not really getting much done for all the distraction. The blog's suffered, obviously. Will that continue? Oh, probably. I'm going to try to make it more than the once a week effort it's started to become, but no promises. Whatever happens, happens.

And there'll likely be more birds along the way. Especially with this office set-up. Back to work for me, now.

There were words here yesterday

There were. I saw them. There was an actual, blathery post on the blog yesterday.

I don't think that there will be today.

It's been one of those mornings where I've just been fooling around catching up with some of the internet nonsense I didn't have time to keep track of during the week, and somehow or other all of the silliness made whatever thoughts I had about a post vanish.

I did have thoughts, you know. Or at least I thought that I had thoughts.

You'll notice, by the way, that we're back to old photos from last spring again. I just can't bring myself to go outside and take pictures of snow. It'll happen eventually, but for now I think I'll just stick to my stock of happy memories of warmer days past.

I suppose after my morning's internet travels I could make a quick yet again comment on the subject of black blogs. Black or dark backgrounds with light type, I mean. My two fans will have heard this from me before, but for those new to the program I'll just say that I really wish that people would stop doing black blogs. Sure, they may look good from a stylistic point of view, but for a large part of the population they can become almost unreadable. For me, with my myopia and astigmatism, the after-images I get after trying to concentrate on a black blog for any length of time are more than just distracting. They're almost headache-inducing. There's more than one black blog I follow because I really like the content, but I dread seeing long posts appear when I click on their updates. And there are plenty of wordy posts out there that I just haven't bothered to struggle through for very long because of blackblogitis.

It makes me a little sad, honestly, when I don't get to read your thoughts because I can't handle your design choices.



Ah well. None of this really matters to the people who have black blogs, so I don't know why I keep going on about it. I guess this is enough post for today. Happy Ada Lovelace's birthday, everyone.

Ok, here's a question:

How's a person who has two personal blogs and also manages the work blog supposed to keep all three current when she doesn't even have a computer at home?

Read that as: I got busy with a post for the work blog, so this one's getting shorted today. And as for the third? Oh, I just haven't been doodling much worth posting this week. I've been in pattern mood, and while that may make my hand and my brain happy, it's basically wtf as a blog post, really.

Today's pointless photo, then? Currant flowers from last spring. Currant flowers are bizarre, fascinating-looking things. You should look them up. You know, if you're lacking reading material because I can't be bothered to put together two proper posts in one day.

Catch you later. Later might not be for a day or two depending on what I can fit in between programs, but there will be a later at some point.

Bye now.

Buggery

No, not that. I got your attention though, didn't I? And I'll be curious to see what kind of attention that it'll bring from random search engines.

I get an unreasonable kick from that sort of thing, I'll admit. I do check to see what weird search terms have brought people to my blogs. It's one of the few things I miss from the old Blogger banner ads these blogs all used to have, too. It used to amuse the heck out of me to see what random terms the Google ad engine would choose for its "targeted" ads. Don't even ask me how I ended up with an ad for Mein Kampf showing up for a week...

Incidentally, I hope you've noticed that I don't miss the targeted ads enough to sign up for Adsense or anything like that. Although it might fit, considering that ads on this blog would be well and truly pointless.

Um, anyway. That's not why you came.

The reason for the misleading title is that we're dealing with a few bugs at work today. Not of the variety featured in today's pointless photo (which is, after all, a beetle rather than a bug), but of the technological type.

We just got a new phone system.

Fuuun, right?

Figuring out the new system should be ok, once we have all the programming down. Should be ok, I hope. We have a lot of volunteers that run the front desk, though, and since they're each here just once a week that equals a full week's worth of trying to train people on a new system. And there are, of course, a few programming glitches as well. I called my father and asked him to call me back just to see if the Call Display worked properly. Well... after watching the line number light up, then the front desk line light up, then a momentary green light on my line (with no ring) that changed to red before I could pick it up and sent him straight to the voice mail box that I hadn't had a chance to set up yet, I can officially tell you that my voice mail light works.

The rest of the system apparently needs a bit of tweaking.

Ah well, if you occasionally try to get me at work and I seem to be non-existent, bear with us. We'll get it figured out.



Stay tuned to find out how they screw up our wifi...

Ah, the lack of blatherage

I'd say I'm sorry for the recent silence, but as I said not that long ago, I'm really not anymore. Better an empty blog than a lengthy whinge about the weather or my lack of sleep or my screwed up digestion or... well, anything that you've already heard too much of, to be honest.

Not even the fact that my three primary canvasses still have nothing on them but primary colours. Man, when I get blocked I get blocked. I mean, I even know what I want to do to finish those canvasses and it shouldn't be too hard, but they're still just sitting there. Ah well, maybe tonight I'll get out my lamp and do something about it.

Have I ever told you about my lamp, she says knowing full well that this is now going to become her post topic even though there's almost nothing to say about a lamp? I have a drawing lamp. Not a swing arm type lamp that I'd attach to my non-existent drafting table or anything exciting like that, but a stand lamp that I use for drawing. My apartment has crappy circa-1970 lighting (as do most crappy circa-1970 apartments, really), and it didn't take too long after I moved in to realise that if I wanted to do anything arty in the six months of the year when the sun goes down at stupid early in the day, I'd need a lamp.

So I went to Wally World and bought myself a floor lamp. I think it cost me twenty bucks, if that. It's one of those three-headed dealies (like this, but think mondo cheap) that I don't think you'd ever want to use for general room lighting, because unless you put the weakest bulbs in the world in it the glare would be absolutely unsettling. Not mood lighting, for sure. In fact, even with my apartment's virtual darkness I never even have the lamp plugged in unless I'm using it for drawing.

So why would I even want a harsh lamp, then? Especially for art? Well, it does have the advantage of having adjustable heads that I can angle to make interesting shadows, so it's actually kind of handy for still lifes. Or plants, which is what I'd use it more for. Time was, to get myself through the winter blahs I'd buy myself a cheap bouquet or flowering plant, set it on my table, and then just draw it every night as it changed and withered (well, not so much the live plants. I'd try to keep them going for a while, naturally). It always made for an interesting exercise in shape and shadow, the contortions flowers would go through before they gave up and dropped petal entirely.

It was good practice. I should start doing it again this winter.

Incidentally, a few years ago when my bathroom light switch broke and the managers took three months (no, I'm not kidding) to get someone in to fix it, the only way I could light the bathroom was by plugging the drawing lamp into an extension cord and parking it in the doorway (the cord wouldn't reach any further). Fun times, paying rent for service like that.

Does this win for Most Useless Post Ever yet? It's got to be getting close.



Aaanyway, I should be getting back to work. As a measure of how much social media has changed my job, work today for me partly involves tweeting about stuff coming in for a swap meet. No, I'm not kidding. Check the work feed, for which I've never given you a link...

Pointless question of the day:

If I paint one canvas red, another blue, and a third yellow, can I call it art?

It could be Primarily Effective, maybe. Or Primarily Subjective.

Or, considering this blog, Primarily Pointless...



Yeah, in case you'd forgotten (or in case you follow the other blog and have wondered why it's sooo active lately), the upcoming staff art show here has, as usual, got me completely blocked. Knowing that my stuff might be on display is hard enough. Knowing that anything I get accomplished in the next month is VERY LIKELY to be on display? Totally keeps me from doing anything.

I've had things on display here before (here being the art gallery at work, of course). More than once. I haven't got used to it.

Or comfortable with it, obviously.

This year's show starts at the end of this month, so I still have time. I even have a couple of ideas. What I don't have, though, is the will to really start anything. I'm a doodler, ferpityssake. I don't ever take my things seriously. Putting them on display, though, necessarily indicates that you're serious enough about things to want people to see them.

That freaks me out.

Every single time this comes up, it freaks me out.




Yeah, I'm such an artist. That's why I found myself painting canvasses at nine o'clock last night. One red, one blue, and one yellow.

I wasn't kidding about that question.

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I'd say I was sorry for unexpectedly disappearing this past week, but really I'm not. I've been blogging for a long time. Even though I deleted years' worth of posts when I switched the other blog to artsy things, it doesn't change the fact that I've been blogging for a long time. I sometimes -- well, often -- feel like I've been talking about the same three topics for most of my internet life, even if the posts are long gone. I occasionally feel like you need a break from it, and I know that I do. It used to be that I'd force myself to blog anyway at times like that, but I've reached the point of screw it, to be honest (and anyone who knows me in person is welcome to uncensor screw it in the appropriate way). If I feel like disappearing, then I disappear.

Um, so there. That was a bit more emphatic than I was intending, but you get the point. It's not a pumpkin-worthy point, but it's there nonetheless. And that means?

Just time for me to get back to work, really. Type at you later.

Maybe in red. Or blue. Or yellow...