State of the Me

Flying visit to NYC over the weekend for my cousin Sunshine's bat mitzvah (insert obligatory OMGWTFshewassixthelasttimeIturnedaround blathering here). I had already retreated to the foyer with a book by the time seventy-five thirteen-year-olds started flinging an equivalent number of Garfield plushies at one another, but I am told it was Epic. It was the kind of visit where we were either at the party, on a train, or passed out on a couch: someday I am going to be in New York City long enough to actually see people I know there who are not family. Sunshine's bat mitzvah speech was quite well-written and contained an assurance that she has decided to stop pestering everyone she knows to become a vegan every time they consume food in her presence. I think the sigh of relief from her parents may have been audible in Flushing. She's a great kid and I love her dearly.

I am settled into B's apartment quite thoroughly. He'll be back in a couple of weeks, and I think the place will be much better with two. It's a one-bedroom, but it's laid out as a cave. Seriously. There is no light, natural or otherwise, and I have a vague perpetual feeling of going slightly blind. Also B has not got round to decorating, so it is a beige cave. I have put up a few posters on a till-he-comes-home basis, things like a photo of gaudior and the poster from Kirikou and the Sorceress that boxofdelights gave me at Wiscon '06 (it is big and red and cheery and makes me smile every time I see it: thank you again).

My internship... well. It is insanely cool, and insanely fascinating, and I have come to the inescapable conclusion that as a long-term thing, conservation is Not It. I will be finishing out the internship, because I am learning a lot and this is a once-opportunity, but this is not what I am doing with my life.

See, I write, and that is the main thing, that I will always be doing with my life. And I write slowly. Sloooooooowly. And as most people do I write in a sitting-down position (Patti Smith claims to write song lyrics standing up leaning over a typewriter and glowering at it, but I can't maintain that sort of thing). And so in order not to find myself rootbound in a desk chair at all times I want to do something with my hands, and I desperately love art and therefore conservation was a natural step. But I am finding that conservation is not creative enough, is the thing. I come home from a full day's work and my hands still have that itch that says make-something-make-something-make-something. Art-involved, I need that; and technical, and involving the mind; and never the same exact challenge twice; and *making* something with my hands, preferably something that will last longer than ten minutes.

I have several possible ideas, but those are to look into seriously later, because right now I have this awesome internship, and I will make the most of it first.

State of the Me

Flying visit to NYC over the weekend for my cousin Sunshine's bat mitzvah (insert obligatory OMGWTFshewassixthelasttimeIturnedaround blathering here). I had already retreated to the foyer with a book by the time seventy-five thirteen-year-olds started flinging an equivalent number of Garfield plushies at one another, but I am told it was Epic. It was the kind of visit where we were either at the party, on a train, or passed out on a couch: someday I am going to be in New York City long enough to actually see people I know there who are not family. Sunshine's bat mitzvah speech was quite well-written and contained an assurance that she has decided to stop pestering everyone she knows to become a vegan every time they consume food in her presence. I think the sigh of relief from her parents may have been audible in Flushing. She's a great kid and I love her dearly.

I am settled into B's apartment quite thoroughly. He'll be back in a couple of weeks, and I think the place will be much better with two. It's a one-bedroom, but it's laid out as a cave. Seriously. There is no light, natural or otherwise, and I have a vague perpetual feeling of going slightly blind. Also B has not got round to decorating, so it is a beige cave. I have put up a few posters on a till-he-comes-home basis, things like a photo of gaudior and the poster from Kirikou and the Sorceress that boxofdelights gave me at Wiscon '06 (it is big and red and cheery and makes me smile every time I see it: thank you again).

My internship... well. It is insanely cool, and insanely fascinating, and I have come to the inescapable conclusion that as a long-term thing, conservation is Not It. I will be finishing out the internship, because I am learning a lot and this is a once-opportunity, but this is not what I am doing with my life.

See, I write, and that is the main thing, that I will always be doing with my life. And I write slowly. Sloooooooowly. And as most people do I write in a sitting-down position (Patti Smith claims to write song lyrics standing up leaning over a typewriter and glowering at it, but I can't maintain that sort of thing). And so in order not to find myself rootbound in a desk chair at all times I want to do something with my hands, and I desperately love art and therefore conservation was a natural step. But I am finding that conservation is not creative enough, is the thing. I come home from a full day's work and my hands still have that itch that says make-something-make-something-make-something. Art-involved, I need that; and technical, and involving the mind; and never the same exact challenge twice; and *making* something with my hands, preferably something that will last longer than ten minutes.

I have several possible ideas, but those are to look into seriously later, because right now I have this awesome internship, and I will make the most of it first.