Up early

I’m up before the rest of the household. Up before the streetcars, up before my father in law, but just barely. We’re going to early Catholic Mass, an oddment for me, as I’m not even slightly religious. I go with him, though, every time I’m here, to sit next to him in the quiet and companionability of the church, to feel his peace, and so he’ll have a family member by his side. I’m the only one who indulges this romance in him; none of the rest of the family are interested.

The whole church loves him, as do his patients, as does everyone who knows him- the family doesn’t know what they are missing, sitting by his side, enjoying the people who come up to him, who tell me, “I love this man.” I can’t imagine missing that. It means something to him, too, to have me there with him. All in all, it’s a pretty good deal. He’s 85; I’m not sure how many more times I’ll sit next to him, in that church, with those people. Each time is special.

Our dinner was exceptionally lovely. Each thing came out perfectly. We had twelve at table, using every piece of the china service, pressing into duty a few random gravy boats, serving bowls. Fraser made two pies, Mary whipped up a huge bowl of cream, everyone ate and laughed and then we called the people who weren’t at the table. I miss my parents keenly at the holidays; I want to call my mother, tell her I love her.

Also, Liam is very TALL and orange. Look at that hair in the sun. Damn! It suits him, with his dark eyes.

 

Ah.

I love that “somebody else’s job now” feeling of putting a thing in a FedEx. I was blown away by the box FULL of Mixed Media projects; so much work, so many really good new things. Wow. I did shot mockups, wrote a jillion little notes…good luck, Box. Both it and my family are on airplanes right now; Bill and the boys fly into New Orleans ahead of me.

This is one of the St. Charles Ave. streetcars.  I love to get on and just ride it, maybe back and forth if I don’t have anywhere special to go. I love the clackety sound of the chairs reversing, the sound of the bell, the way they dress the cars up for Christmas.

 

A tree ring for you

This ring is…fantastic. It’s just excellent in every way. And this tall photo of it makes me hot.

There is something about the angle of it.. can’t quite put my fingers on it.

 

In an unrelated note, I’m looking forward to seeing Bill tomorrow. And the boys, and Bill’s parents, and the family house, and the feast, and Fraser, and the street, and the streetcar, and the oaks, and the park. I love going to New Orleans.

 

Anyway. This ring could conceivably be yours, if you enjoy a size 6, and tall, dark and handsome rings. $275, completely handmade in pure fine silver.

 

A festive ring for that burst of freshness

A sexy Cocktail Ring with a ridgy base and a rich patina. I think that I’ll forge and polish the shank a little bit more before I call it finished. Usually when I look at a piece in a photograph, I can more easily make aesthetic finish decisions like that. In hand, the patina looks and feels smooth; in a photo I can see where it will deepen and also where it will stain. I try to restrain myself from final polish or burnishing until I’ve had a chance to absorb the first shots.

Contorted Cocktail Ring, pure fine silver wire with (permanently fused) sculpted fine silver metal clay tips, and a single post-set pearl. Kate McKinnon,. 2009

 

War

I was showering this morning, warming up, thinking about how excellent it is that John McCain isn’t president, how much better it is to have the intelligent, well-spoken, sane Barack Obama. But then I started thinking about the stupid “wars” in Iraq and Afghanistan, and wondering why it’s so hard to just stop them. Why even Barack can’t see the Viet Nam he is going to be forever wedded to in history, why he would accept this horrible legacy from Bush and Cheney, these are questions I cannot even guess at. War isn’t a successful sort of thing; only rarely has it been used for what I’d call good (it’s hard to argue with stopping a Hitler, although murdering hundreds of thousand of innocent young German soldiers seems like a stupid and cruel way to get the job done.)

One thing that I will never grasp is that society supports war but shirks at assassination. We are willing to destroy Iraq, murdering millions of innocents, and then have a mock trial and publicly hang Saddam Hussein, but we are unwilling instead to plan to murder his entire government in their sleep. One is seen as somehow more civilised or sporting; I can’t grasp any of it, there is no part of my brain that can accede to the ideas of national dominance or war. I can certainly see the wisdom of removing clearly dangerous megalomaniacs; I don’t oppose the death penalty, and I am not opposed to removing one to save many. I dislike removing the many to remove the few. Especially if war fails to actually remove the few.

I loathe politics, and only speak of it when I feel that as a human being, I have no other choice. But I can’t sit by while my government decides how many more lives to spill; Barack Obama, get us the hell out of Afghanistan and Iraq. Begin rebuilding and peacekeeping immediately. Clean the depleted uranium off of the ground, dig up the land mines. Refocus our people away from a culture of death profiteering.

Comments are off on this post only.

 

Sexing coatis

Allison, inspired by our Sabino Canyon coati sighting, ramped up progress on coati effigy bowls in her studio. You can see them in progress on her web site.

The choice of closeup view that she provides is just an example of one of the many reasons that I love her. You really must click the photo to see what I am talking about.

Photo Allison Shock, coati effigy bowls in progress, 2009

I’ve been making piles of things on my work tables; a massive pile of new work to send to Interweave for the cover choice and photo shoot for the Mixed Media book, piles of things for the second phase of the Soul Clearing Sale (and man have I got some treasures) and a variety of components that I want to work with. Gail and I carded all of the vintage ribbon for my new kits; there are some very interesting patterns, and I think it will be a lot of fun to put the colourways together. I will definitely be able to entertain you with these items in December, in time for gift shopping, and I have a target shipping date for the DVD of December 19th.

I could almost faint with the excitement of it all. And I’m really pleased with the pieces I made for the mixed media book. Of course, if I had another couple of months…just think of what I could do. As always.

 

Finished little nest-gate

I decided to make a flat forged hook for it, instead of using the toggle bar. It’s a clasp that can only be used if the bracelet fits your wrist exactly. If there is any looseness, it’s a no go. But as this one met the criteria, I went for the hook. Like it? It still needs its edge binding; that’s all.

Humorously, I both torch fired something today (a signature disc) AND short fired my kiln; of course both things went into a full firing later, but I was amused to be perping those acts.

 

Sculptural ends and a cluttered mind

Sculptural ends of fine silver metal clay permanently fused to thick fine silver wire, Kate McKinnon, 2009.

Sculptural ideas and a cluttered mind bring me into a Monday feet first. I’ve been working around the clock this past week. Month. Year? But especially week. I’ve been moving from task to task, getting them all matched up. I am so pleased to be shipping the DVD soon; also so sure that it was correct to wait until the projects were done. I can really say now that it is comprehensive; I truly feel like I’ve come to the point with MC where I understand the material as I use it, and I feel confident about each of the things that I show or say, even though they may fly directly in the face of things that other people do or say. I’ll put up a few clips on YouTube when I begin shipping.

I had some interesting email exchanges this weekend, even this morning, that have made me think fairly deeply; I both enjoy and dislike this introspection. I always care too much; this is possibly not only a waste of energy, but risky. I can clearly see that other people have a variety of options for how much of their life force they invest in any given moment, that would be nice, to choose like that.

Last night I made a wooden door clasp, complete with bird’s nest, for my Riverbed bracelet. I know that gates have been done to death, but I really needed a little doorway; nothing else would do. I was attached to my actual Riverbed clasp, with a pebble that lifted up and through to release, but somehow, this was better.

It’s always interesing fusing or soldering rings in a stack like this. I sing the praise of pure metals every time I do these jobs, because I can use my beloved kiln brick, fuse the metal, and skip the solder.

 

Dreams

I spent a lot of time last night thinking about why I think about things so much. This was mostly expressed in my dreaming. I don’t remember a single dream, but I do remember the endless choices expressed in them. I struggle within my own self, part of me constantly questing, questioning, always entranced beyond belief by seeing something done poorly. What could be more interesting than making something that was badly done well done? The other part of me is constantly trying to pull that engineer off of the disaster, stop the cactus chewing, move on to more productive ground. I am hopelessly attracted by Teh Stupid, because it’s the thing that I fear most in myself.

It will never resolve, this conflict in me. I will always be drawn to bad jobs. Why, why, did the landscape architects for the City of Tucson plant trees in front of the head of our Snake Bridge that anyone with the intelligence of a mushroom could look up on a chart, seeing immediately as they did so that the chosen trees would grow to a height that exactly obscures the head of the snake with their canopy? Do they not have that chart? Why do people make beadwork all on one long, harshed thread? I have seen people work with a single piece of thread six feet long to make a beaded bracelet. It’s just sad, thinking about that thread. It hurts my throat. Why can’t I just look away? MC, rife with fuckery as it is, has been a fertile field for my Inner Engineer, a character that I always visualize as a person with a pen collection and a neat little cap.

Speaking of my pen collection, did I tell you that Pilot reissued the Razor Point? Holy moly. I about fell into an ecstatic fit right on the floor of Office Depot. When I saw it, warm honey ran in my veins.

I have been thinking about Gaudi and Dali almost constantly in background for weeks, two people who were also obsessed with getting things right. I am consumed with the idea of my return to Figueres and Barcelona next fall. I point out that you can come too; it is a beadwork workshop, an intensive, delightful, incredible, on site at the Gaudis in the city of Barcelona, and the museum that Dali built for his own legacy in his birthplace near the French and Spanish border. Here is a link to the class, if immersing yourself in genius for a week, in the city of Barcelona, with beads (!) sounds like your idea of heaven. Scroll down, past Paris and the South of France, until you see the final week of the trip.

 

The water line is fixed!

That’s fabulous news. I can start to catch up on laundry again. And it was only frighteningly expensive, and nothing unexpected went wrong. Today I made a really great mechanical chain, a kickass embellished felt leaf, and a wonderful felt and metal ring. That’s a pretty great set of things to add to a fixed water line.

Sadly, I forgot that it was Saturday and the Post Office closed at 1, and so if I said I was mailing you something today, well, I failed, and it will go on Monday.

During the day, I managed to find the time to chew on some cactus (this expressed itself in me spending more of my life force discussing sintering and annealing MC) and enjoy the company of my aunt Gail, who is staying the night. Humorously, my cactus-chewing enticed several people to order new books, which is nice. Everything has an up side. Now I’m in my favorite zone, tucked up in bed, with my beads, and Agent Gibbs, and a head swimming with ideas.

I’m looking forward to spending Thanksgiving in New Orleans with Bill and the family- it will be a great break from the deadlines and general mayhem of the past few months.