Tiny White Flowers

Tiny White Flowers

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Artist's Way Journal - Week Six, Day Two

Day Two this week... I've almost lost track of time!  On Frontline was the scoop on the war in Afghanistan.  Saddened, I got up to give DS his insulin and a bowl of applesauce, washed some  dishes and scrubbed half-heartedly at the countertop to soften the sourdough starter drippings, and sat down here.  First I checked the stats on my blogs, a useless activity most of the time.  I did make almost a dollar today, though, on my knitting blog.  Yahoo~

Its too bad, but I'm coming to realise that being an optimist is hard work.  I'm finding out that in many cases there is just no way to make people who dream up bad things to do to others can't always be made to see another point of view.  For instance yesterday's arrest of two skinheads plotting to kill students in Tennessee, and ultimately targeting Sen. Obama.  I just looked this up and saw an image of a young man in a black tank top holding what looks like an automatic weapon.  That the two said they "would and were willing to die in the attempt."  

It is such a blow to think a person can't be turned around to see the good in everyone.  My grandfather was in a concentration camp just before WWII really got going.  He was released, and never returned home, coming here to live.  I'm having trouble thinking about all of this, and am finding that words are not serving me well right now.  

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Halloween is coming up, and DD and DS don't know yet how they're going to dress--hopefully with items from around the house!  Which is what I used to do... one of my more memorable costumes consisted of my stopping a few yards away from the house and flipping my long hair over my face, and holding it in place with a pair of sunglasses.  Don't quite know how I came up with that one, but it worked.  I think I did this with a black wig, too.

Other fun ones: the time I dressed as Prince, complete with satin pajama pants I converted into something a little more flashy, adding a zipper in the front--a sort of diagonal fly--and some gathered purple lace up the side of the legs.  I wore high-heeled black boots, a white Value Village waiter's jacket I embellished with silver ribbon and "rhinestone" buttons.  I wore dark mirrored glasses and penciled in a hint of a moustache, which I must admit confused a guy at a party I attended.  After watching a conversation I was having with someone else, he finally plucked up the courage to ask, "I gotta ask you, are you a guy or a girl?"  I smiled at him from behind my shades and breast-concealing jacket and said, "yeah, I'm a guy."

One year I was a hybrid, a sort of thing I did often--a Japanese Punk Witch.  Kimono, fishnets, high-heeled boots, chain belt.  Another year a friend and I attended some Halloween function at the University dressed as The Two Gentlemen of Verona.  We made feathered caps by covering Cool-Whip bowls with velvet fabric.  Tunics and legging, and we were there!  And another year, also in college, friends and I attended a party, the theme of which was "come as your favorite person who died a violent death."  A friend and I went as Sid Vicious and Nancy.  I was Sid.
Well, it's an early day tomorrow for DS, who is going into town to see The Three Musketeers, so off to bed I go.


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