Day #4

Today, I pulled Charley Harper: An Illustrated Life off the shelves, along with Petite Pattern Book: Scandinavian Style. Such pretty visuals! Wish there were books on David Stoupakis, Tara McPherson, Audrey Kawasaki, Amy Sol, or James Jean I could find at this library; however, I could find Mark Ryden, Camille Rose Garcia, and Marion Peck — which I believe I'd ordered ... Must slip more such books into my book recommendations soon. Fuck. Can't wait for the weekend ...!

Day #3

Whenever I check my Facebook feed (which unfortunately is more frequently than I ought to), I wonder if I might not be missing out on something by not religiously documenting my everyday life in photos. After all, my memory is both a sponge and sieve; pretty sure I'm retaining daydreams and imaginings as memories while 'true' memories fade more with every passing second. But it's just so hard to remember to pull out my phone to snap pics while wonderful and amazing things are happening ...

Day #2

Fuck. Only the second day and I already failed — I totally forgot to do a quickie post after my nightly plank and stretch ritual.

So, yesterday: again inspired by Lisa Congdon's illustrations, I thought I should buy a sketchbook (don't know where my old ones are — if they haven't already disintegrated) and learn/start to sketch shit. Like, I've been thinking for my next papercutting project I want to do one of my own scribbles (prolly 'Hope') with something (flourish? shapes?) to hold the letters together.

Get motivated, Self!

Day #1

Saw this article from the fb feed and decided the advice from Lisa Congdon is rather doable. So here I am, back on the saddle — so to speak — attempting to get back into forming sentences that AREN'T mind-numbing, stupefying drivel about "the Library" is all rainbow-vomiting-unicorns Awesome™ and deserves a mention in the annual report, or how an e-resource is so pants-wettingly blow-your-mind Awesome™ and will save your crummy assignment. For the next 30 days at least, sentences will be formed, with or without coherence, intelligence, or sense.

A wee bit of hiatus by default due to a crashing netbook and a drowned cellphone - both self-healed, so all is good ... for now.

The break had me thinking about what to do with this blog. A hundred words is too limiting, and I won't be able to post photos of my meals (it's still a good way to track my diet though) if both netbook and cellphone died again.

So: where next? I discovered I'm registered at wordpress (and might give it a go if I were allowed to post videos), but might just stick with blogger.

We'll see!

Tue 25 May 2010

10:49 - multigrain toast with strawberry jam, and black coffee.

Sun 23 May 2010

13:28 - toast with Nutella and strawberry jam, tuna-raisin melt, and black coffee.

Maybe it's as simple as B12.

Maybe that's what I need, instead of TIP-TOEING THE FUCK AROUND.

Came across this three-year old article (and this related piece) this morning, and couldn't recall a sad song I'd heard in recent years.

The only two songs of which lyrics made me sad when I first heard them as a kid raised on oldies, who didn't know who Michael Jackson was 'til 1993, were 'Tell Laura I Love Her' and 'Honey'.

	Ray Peterson - Tell Laura I Love Her .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

	Bobby Goldsboro - Honey .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Everything else after that just made me happily depressed to the point of suicide. What is a "sad song" anyway?

Songs sung blue, with a "cry in your voice"?

Thu 20 May 2010

10:27 - a tart C bought me from Le Moulin, three peanut-butter crackers, and black coffee.

Today's music: Margaret Leng Tan and the toy piano. Way adorable!

'Eleanor Rigby'


'Nothing is Real (Strawberry Fields Forever)'


'Dinky Toys'

When a vicious Brazilian wax job would feel like a mind-blowing orgasm in comparison.

Wed 19 May 2010 (Happy Jen's Birthday!)

09:35 - pain aux raisins (which C bought me from Le Moulin yesterday), and black coffee.

After yesterday's decision, I spent over five hours compulsively trawling through free and streaming tracks.

Not new music, not the newest and hottest [insert hip genre] music, but nice music - even a nice collection of digitized 78 RPMs and cylinder recordings.

I'm gonna cue this up every time I feel like a black-and-white silent weepy punctuated by kicks from a fat opium-puffing master before concluding with a hacked-up TB-ridden lung on a bloody white handkerchief:



Soundtrack of my life!