Hat Trick

Ok, so I didn't get a fedora this weekend, but I did make a sun hat. Now we just need the sun to come out more.

Reach for the stars

Here are some more delicious treats...

Michael Hsiung's art is genius. It's whimsical, playful and sophisticated and witty. And it features centaurs, mermen and baby angora unicorns. As if that wasn't enough, his bio is HILARIOUS. Do yourself a damn favour and read it. Then join me as we roll on the floor laughing and clapping with delight.

Love giraffes? How about a million of them? Who doesn't love the gangly, vegetarian ungulates? Forget about leggy blonds. Necky ruminants are where it's at. Take a gander at One Million Giraffes and get cracking on a submission. Dude's only got 543 days left.

Courtesy of Maria's mad skillz.

I'm going to tell people I'm turning 25 again.

My birthday was yesterday. It was lovely. I spent the day outside biking around and eating a picnic on a rock by the water with many friendlies. I also turned an age of significance. People told me the years that are multiples of 7 are usually important. 7, 14, 21, 28, 35, 42, 49, 56 and so on. They're supposed to signify milestones in your life. I guess 7 is when a child starts to become self-aware and a functioning little person. 14 is the most hellish year of adolescence. 21 is when you technically become an "adult". 28 is when you should be an "adult." 35 is "if you're not an adult by now, you're in deep kaka." 42 is when you finally start to chill out and mellow after having been an adult for some years. 49 is so very close to 50, but you've still got a year to enjoy being younger than a half a century old. 56 is when you're body and mind start to slow down. Aches and pains may be more frequent. 63 is when you're retiring or retired and maybe you've got little ones to look after again. Or maybe you're rejuvenated and can finally do all that travelling you've been waiting to do once you finished working. And so on, and so forth.

For my birthday, the lovely Anni got me this book by Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher. I love Miranda July's stuff anyway, but I especially love this book. The original project was a website that was started seven years ago and had various assignments that people completed and then documented. The book is just a snapshot of some of the amazing entries people posted.

One assignment I particularly love is #55: Photograph a significant outfit. Remember exactly what you were wearing during a recent significant moment. Maybe it was the day that your boyfriend broke up with you, or the day your nephew was born, or the day you decided to become a vegetarian. It should be something that happened in the last six months. Lay out what you were wearing on the floor, as if you are dressing an invisible, flat person. Tuck the shirt into the pants, the socks into the shoes, etc. Don't forget the other things that complete your outfit such as jewelry, purse, hat, etc. Do not add anything extra like a wig or a mask--just the clothes you were wearing. Stand on a chair or table and photography the clothes from directly above. Not from above at a slight angle, but so that the camera is pointing straight down. Send us the photo, along with the importance of the day, for example, "What I was Wearing When I got the Phone Call About Grandma Marris Dying." Do not write on the actual photograph, and make sure your photo is in focus. Note: avoid moments that you knew would be significant and so dressed accordingly--such as graduation or Halloween. The outfit itself does not need to be significant, it is just what you happened to be wearing when something of emotional significance happened.

This is mine from the past few months... I wore this the day we did cartwheels on the street. I remembered what it was like to laugh and play with someone. And that was when I knew one thing in my life was over and something else began.

Ikimono11000000!

The best thing I saw today was this construction worker fixing this little kid's bike. Here was Mister, in his hard hat with the little tyke's bicycle turned over and fidgeting with the chain. Maybe he knew the kiddo, but I'd like to think that he didn't, and I had just stepped into a Richard Scarry world, straight out of Busytown where the construction bear man helps the little fox boy with his bike. Then they walk hand in hand to the candy store but not before running into the nice cat lady in her polka dot dress who sells flowers and wave at the postman dog on his daily route.

I wished I had a secret spy camera to capture such a tear-jerk moment. Wait, I do!

I finally got my grubby paws on this little camera, the Ikimono 110. This little camera looks like a toy, but it works. "Ikimono" means little creature in Japanese. I still can't get over how very ridiculously cute it is. It sits there in my hand just like an obedient squirrel would!



Sadly though, I did not have the camera on me, and I failed to capture that Richard Scarry moment. Dang.

However, this has made me simultaneously gag and laugh out loud:
Cheeseburger in a Can!

Busy Bee

A whole new whack of projects...Apologies for the crappy photos, but I'm currently rollin' sans digital cam.

Sadiya wanted a Batman garter belt for her wedding. I even made the button!


The first of the food zine. You can't tell, but it's called The Food Off.


Not a project, but I did pick up this boss camera at an antique store today. Now I just have to find the oh-so-difficult-to-find film...

Marinating in anger

It's Friday. TGIF, right? Not for me. I'm working allllllllll weekend. So obviously it's got me thinking about how being chained to the office is bad, being in front of a computer is butt, working for the man sucks, blah, blah, blah.

If you know me at all, you'll know that I'm all about crafts and skills. All I ever want to do is learn how to do things with my hands. Fix bicycles, cook, garden, build things, sew, silkscreen, play music, knit...Not sit. Hunched over. Suffering tension headaches and pinched nerves, going blind staring at a computer.

So, I was pretty excited to see Boing Boing's blog post yesterday about this book called Shop Class as Soulcraft by Matthew B. Crawford. It's about the importance of using your hands to make and fix things and how there's such an emphasis on "knowledge" work whereas the trades are viewed as inferior occupations. As if tradespeople are too dumb to do other work or have no other choice.

Crawford raises a bunch of interesting thoughts. It's great to have ideas people, but you also need the skills to bring about the execution. When I think of my high school life, I'm always stricken with regret. I went to an academic high school where the focus was on intellectual development. That's fine and dandy, but I really wish I had the option of taking art or shop classes. This school didn't even have a gym. Our options were French and music. My parents enrolled me into the school because of the "competitive edge" it offered for getting into university. I'm not dissing university here, but I do wish I had more of an eclectic training growing up. I liked what I learned in school, and I love writing, but I also have this obsessive need to gather as many tangible DIY skills as possible. There's something ingrained in me that needs to be able to fix things or at least figure out how something works.

I guess not everyone is supposed to take that academic route, but more and more kids are being pushed in that direction, and I'm convinced that's not healthy. It's creating generations of stressed out adults with poor posture.

I saw this video last week:



Ironically, civilizations that worked so hard to move from physical labour have moved to occupations that are just as oppressive. It's not as labour-intensive, rather mental-intensive. People are wigging out and stressing!

I really think there is something to be said about working with your hands. It's part of human nature. It's just so satisfying and comforting. And ironically, instead of doing something with my hands and mad skillz, I just spent a bunch of time writing about it.

A gentleman's pursuit

A few days ago Boing Boing posted this article from The Atlantic about happiness. It focused on a study of men and their lives that spanned over seven decades! There has never been a longitudinal psychological study this exhaustive, extensive and detailed as this one. The men were interviewed, went in for physicals and completed surveys every few years up until their deaths. The study focuses solely on men, Harvard sophmores---JFK was apparently a participant but his files are sealed until 2040!

So the article got me thinking about the path to happiness and the pursuit of pleasure. If there is a straight and easy way to achieve a goal or obtain happiness, you can bet your balls I won't take it. I have this deeply ingrained notion that I have to suffer in order to get what I want. That means getting to grandma's house involves trekking through the Making-it-harder-for-myself-in-any-way-I-can Woods instead of simply hoping into a cab and whizzing straight there. I can't help it considering my upbringing. Catholic AND Chinese?! We were fed guilt for breakfast. Suffering IS salvation.

Why do I do this to myself? And on a greater level, why do we do it to ourselves? Why's it so hard to treat ourselves, and why do we always feel the need to justify it when we do?

Is it the recession? (The recession is my current favourite scapegoat explanation. Somehow I don't think so, as I've always felt guilty even during times when the economy's rollin'.

Could it be the puritanical nature of our ancestors? Maybe. The whole idea of relaxation and pleasure is so unnatural to us. Stress is pretty much ingrained in us, that even on vacation, we can't seem to relax.

I do know this though. Happiness is bunch on Sunday. And I refuse to feel guilty about that.

(I snagged the pic from www.nalinisingh.com/books.html)