An Honest Conversation

I tend to latch onto a handful of songs at a time and listen to them over and over again until I get tired of them. Sometimes I feel guilty about it, like I'm indulging in an extra scoop of ice cream, and I try to pace myself, but I always end up doing the same thing: listening to the same three songs on repeat until they're worn thin. It's never more than five songs and no less than two. They are songs that just catch me in some way, that I connect with on some level. Sometimes the words are exactly what I'm thinking, sometimes I just like the way the words sound strung together, their juxtaposition. It could be the rhythm, or that it sounds exactly like sunshine or a moody grey day. Sometimes they're brooding, but always they're meaningful.

These are the songs that characterize periods in my life, that can't possibly be separated from certain memories. Spring semester was extremely stressful, marked with periods of peace while driving in the early summer heat or sitting in the sun. The three songs that sounded like sunshine and tiredness were Jon Foreman's cover of "Boxing" (originally by Ben Folds Five), "Champagne Supernova" by Oasis, and "Praise You" by Fatboy Slim. My first semester was exhausting and I listened to Counting Crows' Across A Wire disc one on repeat while I took naps. Senior year was "Hey There Delilah" by the Plain White T's and driving to design class.

This is the reason I'm always a bit hesitant whenever someone asks what kind of music I listen to. I'm starting to hone in on a general genre that I like, but mostly I just attach myself to a group of songs and don't let go until I'm done, and I'd rather not tell a perfect stranger what they are. They aren't just songs that I can tap my foot to, they are a little part of me, capturing a specific thought or a frame of mind. That's the funny thing about songs, the expected honesty and freedom in them. Jon Foreman has said that he marvels at this, how it's expected that you will speak honestly of the most personal things that you couldn't bring up in an everyday conversation. You put a little piece of yourself into chords and notes and lyrics and then you hand it out, and everyone who listen, who connects with it, finds a bit of themselves it it, an honesty and a truth. And that's not something I'm going to discuss with the bored extrovert sitting next to me before class.

The songs that are playing in my ear right now are:
Murder in the City - The Avett Brothers
Worn Me Down - Rachael Yamagata
Jealous of the Moon - Nickel Creek
June on the West Coast - Bright Eyes

Murder In the City

- The Avett Brothers


If I get murdered in the city
Don’t go revengin in my name
One person dead from such is plenty
No need to go get locked away


When I leave your arms
The things that I think of
No need to get over alarmed
I’m comin home


I wonder which brother is better
Which one our parents love the most
I sure did get in lots of trouble
They seemed to let the other go


A tear fell from my father’s eyes
I wondered what my dad would say
He said I love you
And I’m proud of you both
In so many different ways


If I get murdered in the city
Go read the letter in my desk
Don’t worry with all my belongings
But pay attention to the list


Make sure my sister knows I loved her
Make sure my mother knows the same
Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name
Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name

Off To Rob A Bank

While waiting for my sister to get out of class.

Voila!

These are the earrings I made with my colored newspaper beads. You will soon be able to buy them on my Etsy shop.

Necessity Is the Mother of Invention

My rather ADD approach to crafting (I try one thing only to get bored and move on once I've mastered the basics) means I'm always wanting to try new things and that I usually don't have the proper materials to start. Instead of just giving up, I usually find a way jury-rig, jerry-build* something that suits my purposes.

When I was assigned a jewelry making project in a highschool design class and I had very little money for buying beads (as I tend to want things like tigers eye, turquoise Czech glass...), I started making them out of newspaper. The results were so good (even if the process is a little... sticky and difficult) that I've made a couple more batches since then.

It's a simple process in theory--cut out stripes of newspaper, dip them in some diluted glue, roll them around a toothpick and slide them off to dry--the actual execution can be a little... disheartening. It's a simple process with many opportunities for it go awry. They do look rather nice when you're finished, so if you'd like to try making some of them on you're own you can follow my somewhat vague directions here:

(Sorry, no in-process pictures at the moment 'cause you're hands get completely covered in glue when you're rolling the beads, and my camera is not partial to glue.)

1. The first thing that you do is cut out strips of newspaper. I tend to go by the measurements of the columns because it's easier. In general, a good length for your strip is the length of one column on half the page (or the size of the newspaper when it's laying folded), or about 9-10 1/2" long. The width of your strip determines the length of your bead, so be careful. When you wind them up it'll get wider, so no wider than 1 1/2", which makes a very long bead, like these. For medium sized beads I usually take a column and cut it in half, so my strip is about 1 1/8" wide. Just make sure that it will actually fit on the toothpick, which is important. Oh, and make sure to taper the ends of the strip a little, so it wraps up nice at the end.

2. (You'll want to put down a large piece of waxed paper to work on.) Next mix up some diluted glue in a wide shallow bowl of some sort. (The lid to an old Gatorade mix container also works really well.) This is where the directions get a bit vague. The glue needs to be thin enough that you can rolls your bead up easily, but thick enough to actually make the paper stick. I use a straw with my finger suctioned over the top to fill it with water as a dropper to mix it in with the glue. If you try to just drop a little bit of water over the rim of a glass you will have trouble, honest. (That is, if you're anything like me.)

3. Now take a toothpick and smear it with a little Vaseline. I have a really old pot of it that I dip the toothpicks straight into then gently wipe off the excess, but getting a little dollop on a separate piece of waxed paper and twirling it through that also works well. The key word here is to gently wipe off the Vaseline. You just want to get the extra bits that are sticking off while keeping it slick enough that your bead will come off when you want it to. If you don't have enough you'll have an unusable bead permanently dried on a toothpick, but if you have too much your paper will slip-slide every which way and you'll go mad. You also probably won't be able to get it started rolling in the first place either.

4. Take you paper and dip it in the diluted glue, then wipe off the excess with your fingers. Too much glue is just like too much Vaseline, it will keep your bead from sticking just enough to roll it. Too little glue and it will start to dry as you're rolling it and it won't stick. If you find you don't have enough glue, you can always just dip and wipe it again. You'll get glue all over your hands at this point, so make sure to have a wet paper towel on hand.

5. Hold the now-gluey strip of paper with the right side towards you and carefully press the edge onto the toothpick. This is the point at which you will start swearing profusely. The strip has to straight on the edge of the toothpick or it will get a cockeyed and won't roll. With the strip pressed onto the toothpick, gently start to roll the edge under, keeping it steady any way you can (fingers, toes, elbows....). You'll probably get it wrong the first time, so try again. You'll probably also get it all too loose and crooked the second time too, so... well, you know. You want to roll it tightly against the toothpick or you won't get enough traction to finish rolling it up. If you can't get it tight enough to start, you may have a little too much Vaseline on your toothpick. If yours looks like mine you'll probably have excess glue being squished out the ends, but don't worry, it just means you're rolling it good and tight.

6. Once you have it all rolled up, wipe off the excess glue and slip it off the toothpick. If you used a lot of glue the layers of the bead might be a tad loose and movable, which may be a problem when slipping it off the toothpick, so be careful. If you're having trouble sliding it off you can hold the toothpick with the point against your work surface and use your fingernails butting up against the end of the bead to slide it down. If the toothpick is too slippery to hold you can use the gluey, wet paper towel to hold the end and slip the bead off that way.

7. Now just leave them alone to dry. While they're drying the top edge will want to peel away from the rest of the bead and dry sticking up. It's not a big deal, so just leave it until the bead is relatively dry, then take another toothpick and dab some straight glue on it to tamp it down. Some people use Modge Podge to seal their beads once they're dry, but I just use a light coat of undiluted glue to hold them and I haven't had a problem.

So there are my slightly fuzzy directions. I'm sure there are improvements to be made, but so far the system seems to be working for me.

*Please note that jerry-rigged is not a word. I know, I looked it up.

And on a side note, I now have footnotes on my blog. Makes me feel all McKinley-ish.

Matthieu Dessudo

"That's zen too, isn't it?"

Overheard while walking in to school:

Dude 1: "How do you stay in the moment for 36 hours?"
Girl: "You don't--"
Dude 2: "Dude, you'd have to like, makeout!"

America

I watch myself watching them argue. It's a social worker, a lawyer for me, a lawyer against me, a cop, a judge, and some people.
...
"The kid can't keep his hands off lighters, Your Honor," the lawyer against me says. "Not to mention that the kid confessed here."
"Is the boy wanted for a crime in Nyack or not?" the judge asks.
"He is not, Your Honor," the lawyer for me says.
"However, it would be prudent to reexamine the case, given the boy's recent confession," the lawyer against me says.
"You're repeating yourself, McKinsey," the judge tells him. "I heard you the first time." Then he looks at the cop. "Is the family of the deceased asking for a reopening?"
"No, Your Honor," the cop says.
"Is the guardian asking for a reopening?"
"No, Your Honor," the cop says.
"Is Nyack asking for a reopening?"
"No sir."
"Where is the guardian?" the judge asks.
"She's unable to care for the boy, Your Honor." the social worker says. "But she's expressed the desire for him to return. She expresses a strong attachment to the boy."
"I believe I asked where she is," the judge says.
"In a nursing home, Your Honor," the social worker answers. "In Nyack."
"The guardian is in Nyack?" the judge says. His voice gets louder. "How long was this boy detained at R and D?" I see the quiet and the way the judge's face turns red. "Why is this boy in Manhattan?" Nobody answers. "Why is this boy in front of me?" Nobody answers. "Anyone?" the judge says.
"I got lost in the system," I watch myself say.
"Jesus Christ," the judge says.
- America, E.R. Frank

The Story of An Artist

listen up and i'll tell a story
about an artist growing old
some would try for fame and glory
others aren't so bold

and everyone in friends and family
sayin "hey go get a job
why do you only do that only
why are you so odd?"

and we dont really like what you do
we dont think anyone ever will
we think you have a problem
and this problem's made you ill"

the artist walks among the flowers
appreciating the sun
he's out there all his waking hours
oh and who's to say he's wrong

but the artist walks alone
and someone says behind his back
"he's got some gall to call himself that
he doesn't even know where he's at"

and they sit in front of their tv
sayin "hey isn't this a lot of fun"
and they laugh at the artist
saying "he don't know how to have fun"

listen up and i'll tell a story
about an artist growin old
some would try for fame and glory
others like to watch the world
- M. Ward (Daniel Johnston cover)