dizzying.

...because sometimes, just sometimes, i am here to help blow your minds.

(Click on the titles of any of the above videos to watch them, full-sized, on their proper sites. Honestly, i don't know why i can't figure out how to format things to fit on here.)

More prettier.

Because i appear to still be obsessed with rainbowthings, i've just purchased a kaleidoscope made of recycled DymondWood on Etsy for my co-worker's birthday present. Can't wait 'til it gets here! Originally i was going to get her a knife to use at the shop, but it looked cheaply made. There was also a mortar & pestle that i liked, but as i'm 99.9% sure that she never grinds her own spices, that was the end of that. The kaleidoscope is egg-shaped and brightly-colored, and although the jazziness inside appears to be of your basic variety, who gives? She can glance at it every morning on her kitchen windowsill and smile, and that's really all i care about.

(i bet this topic just has everyone here bursting with delighted interest– am i right?)

In other news, i came across this bewitching photo today on the interwebs. i must go here. Enjoy!


(Palais des Congrés de Montreal in–you guessed it–Montreal! Can everything be this colorful? Please?)

rainbows.

Back to work tomorrow. i will sorely (no pun intended, as the 'sore' is still around, and not going anywhere soon) miss lying in bed and watching movies on Netflix.

(On The Edge: sweet, sad, Irish, suicide-rehab flick featuring Cillian Murphy, rowr. i cried. It Could Happen To You: perfect movie to watch when you're sitting around all ouchy and feeling sorry for yourself. Bridget Fonda and Nicolas Cage get all kismet-y while Rosie Perez screeches around the periphery. A fun, simple love story.)

But the roses are calling me. Thankfully i'm getting a ride to work, and i'll probably just stand around making dozen roses all day. (Guys, you ready to drop seventy bucks? Just a warning.) Apparently we've hired some cute Guy-On-A-Bike that my co-worker is smoldering for. . . should be interesting! i would kill for a little impromptu romance, especially this time of year, when everything 'love' is so pre-packaged and overpriced i could gag.

Also, i've got Nat doing dishes and laundry tonight, which, i've gotta say, feels downright luxurious. As much as i loathe validating things like 'gender roles', i am usually the one who ends up doing the domestic stuff around here: cooking, cleaning, and so on. It's because i'm only working part time, and as well know grad students are never not working (well, except when they're totally fucking off and playing computer games). So it's nice to have a small reprieve. As far as i'm concerned, this is my Valentine's Day.

Now, off to reheat some of the tamales i bought the other day, which are delicious, by the way. Hope y'all are paragons of health. And in case i don't emerge from the depths of the V-Day kerfuffle that is the flower shop at present, have a happy heart day. You are loved.

p.s.) here's something pretty. i love his rainbowy tones, and that subject matter: toys, condiments, firecrackers– i'm in love! And a kid again. Not that i ever wasn't one. . .

p.p.s.) Nat has informed me that i must also share Robot Unicorn Attack. Hope you like Erasure.

the waxen pith

Here are a couple of crayon-related items. You can thank me later.

~Christian Faur's hand-cast crayon artworks
(spooky! dark... yet bright!)

and,

~A crayon-color diagram that may leave you gnawing with anxiety.
(yummy! ...but sorta scary.)

And do you remember that old standby art project: intense crayon rub-down, then black paint on top, let it dry, and scratchscratchscratch? Hooray for it.


*image provided by an anonymous, yet brilliant 6th-grader in New Jersey. More here.

The gloaming.

This is my favorite time of day, i think- when the world outside is turning that particular shade of periwinkle blue, moving incrementally closer and closer to dusky uncertainty... It always feels to me like your last chance to get to safety, and yet there is something so exciting in that. The birds are softly cooing, and preening on their branches; the night-blooming flowers are releasing their fragrances to the air, and if you look up you can almost pretend that there is a new day beginning, instead of one just slipping away. If you wanted to say something important, now is the time.

Incidentally, "Periwinkle" was my favorite Crayola crayon color; something about the sweet blue and twinkly name always reminded me of fairies. Other contenders were Maize (purely because of the name; flat, browny-yellow was definitely not a fave color), Mulberry and Magenta (red-purples! yay!), Midnight Blue (so dark, so translucent!), Sea Green (soothingly serene), and of course, the lustrous and enigmatic metallics- Silver and Copper. The 64-pack of crayons was a hugely treasured item in our household.

As were the smelly markers. I know you kids remember those chubby, tempting, styrofoam-encased concentrated color-sticks: The seriously fruity Orange; the bright, bright-red Cherry; the garish, purple Grape; the weirdly sharp & sour Lemon; the fresh-as-hell Mint; the "Blue"berry; the lovely, delicate Cinnamon brown; and the addictive Black Licorice, which i swear i despised but could never seem to get enough of! Seriously, i think i probably smelled that one ten times more than the others. Ahhh, Mr. Sketch, how we adored thee.

Why the hell am i always waxing nostalgic about childhood art materials? What the hell is wrong with me?

next time: A lifetime of trees.