.Monday, April 8, 2002

doll making...thanks, ebay traders

"Lorsqu'une pensée est trop faible pour porter une expression simple, c'est la marque pour la rejeter ."
Luc de Clapiers

"When an idea is too weak to stand the test of simple expression, it should be dropped."

When you get to the point where you cheat for the sake of beauty, you're an artist.

So work was a bunch of stuff that I thought needed doing, but who knows?

After a conference call at lunch, I go to my parents. I've been snacking on apple and carrots. They are eating sweet potatoes, soup and my dad is making a salad from some sad-looking iceberg lettuce and other stuff. Oh, and they have some leftover ham. I eat a little piece of ham, talk to them. Some of my mom's symptoms are better but she has a cough and some complaints. I encourage her to get outside today for a minute or two. I re-sort her email by clicking on the headings and I show her two or three times what the deal is, but I don't know if she'll remember.

Dad sees a squirrel and is crowing about his squirrel-proofed bird feeder when he notices one jump from a branch and briefly hit pay dirt. He shows me armaryllis and other plants he has potted and repotted. His cold is better.

I decide to spin by Borders and look something up in a book they have that I don't want to buy. I have a cappuccino. I don't usually have them, I usually have black coffee or espresso. I wander around the store a little. I look up my reference. I go back to the office and eat some snacks out of the candy cabinet and get back to work. It takes most of the afternoon to do something that I consider, largely, futile. Necessarily, but futile, things are the worst activities.

After work, I go home. FFP and I make a tasty baby spinach salad (I put tomatoes, green onions, carrots and cheese on mine). He cooks salmon, lemon juice and capers and I slice up yellow squash, zuchini and onions and we steam them. We drink water with it. No alchohol tonight. It's important to eschew it a few nights a week. At least after the over-indulgence of the weekend.

We watch some TV, I work the puzzle in the NYTimes (from the paper, not the WEB). I download a picture for FFP from his digital camera. I make my little contribution to weirdness to illustrate this page. Is it art? Of course not. I'm a hack. At everything I do. Or so it seems from here. Certain people consider me competent at certain things. I'm pretty sure they are wrong.

An exciting life, huh? A friend sends the suggestion that I take time off, stay home and 'pretend' to be retired. Clearly, two or three days isn't enough. She suggests two weeks. However, that amount of time would consume so much of my vacation for the year that I would spend time regretting not being on a trip and worrying about 'getting everything done' before I retured to work. No, if I'm to learn how I would spend 'free' time, I must change how I spend the free time I have. Nudge it toward the pursuits I allege to want. I have been trying to do this. Apart from the weird illustrations, of course. (Actually, bad as they are, they are evidence of me learning to use computer tools that I really think can help me express myself. Right.)

JUST TYPING
Just keep doing it.
Until what?
Until you find the moment.
Or the moment finds you.