Digging Holes

"Bette" watercolor



"Under the Sea" watercolor over ink wash


"The Highlands" watercolor over ink wash


"Denver" watercolor over inkwash

These are my favorites. Any new graphic design work can be found...
Tarigan
Coroflot

Since Thursday, I've ping-ponged between Philadelphia and the Jersey Shore 4 times. It's been fun =) Had a great time with the family and the Red Hot Chili Peppers kicked ass, of course.

I've slept amazingly well yet had my crazy dreams, homicidal dreams again. Video rentals services and people getting sliced up in barbed wire spirals!

During our dinner in Philly, we were asked to sample shots. I downed mine instantly, while my dad and stepmom sipped theirs.. which I think was intended because the girls asked to take out picture for the website.. whoops!

Today, Dad took me to "tent city", a place where many many homeless people have setlled in the woods and put up housing. It's a bizarre mixture of traditional camping with modern day structures and broken down technological devices. And some chickens running around of course. Dad helps out here along with his friend that he introduced to it. He's designing a sustainable home that mostly fits in with the ordinances of the town (who hate "tent city"). It was an interesting commune to get a chance to see.

Tomorrow --> Savannah & lots o' work!

Hello journal! Thankfully you're not my child, or else I'd be deemed unfit.. as a neglectful mother. Well, perhaps you'll enjoy this.. Carrie and I were busy, busy, busy between setting up our new location at Kottage Kids in Pooler, Summer Camp sign-ups, and most of all our art & fashion show! Springtime in Paris with Sarah Jane Children's Boutique was a huge success!




Check out You're Welcome Savannah and Karen Shweiky photography for their amazing coverage of the show!

Special thanks to (people who will never actually read this, but deserve thanks nonetheless) Keith Kozel, Ashley & Tiffany Christian, John, Ashley Bond, Tonya Burr, & Melissa Yao for all of their help!

We ended the evening with a wonderful dinner at Cafe 37th with the lovely and ever hospitable Noula.




I've got more work to do this evening and hopefully the beginning to the end of cavity filling in the early am! I'll be back soon!

<3 T

First, I need to remind myself of how incredibly amazing my hands look! I was being diligent as ever about putting any and all kinds of moisturizers on them plus sleeping in gloves at night, which helped maintain them. Now that it's warm, I have my hands back. I never take these puppies for granted!

Now, I need to get this out before it leaves my brain because it was an astounding display of how far my mind can stretch. I had a crazy full work day, beginning at 8am and ending at 1am. Not physically strenuous, just mentally taxing. The day before, while working on a piece, I watched a recommended film, "Being Elmo". It was quite inspirational, apparently reaching me on some other level I was unaware of. Falling asleep last night with my brain still going a million miles an hour, I dreamt that I was Elmo. Most of the dream I can still see so vividly, yet is difficult to describe. Imagine a nowhere, southern town. Too hot for grass, abandoned grocery stores, too many motorcycles and meatheads. I walked into a high school, passing through the open ceiling gymnasium, looking for someone. On the other side is where I kept going into the nothingness town. I turned around to go back and was suddenly back at the gym. An intimidating senior came over to harass me and I bolted through the doorway. I'm not sure how quick the transition was from southern town to the motel that defied gravity. This part seemed particularly meaningful, but I just can't quite remember why. I walked around the hotel full of military men and bratty tweens. There was an oval shaped pool in the center that appeared to be 12 ft deep or so, coming to a point with the other side in dirt as if ripped from the ground. I went in. This is the part where something happened, a peaceful struggle? Saving someone? I'm not sure anymore. Another figure and I recognized one another, climbed out and looked upon the pile of people in the corner. I searched for a way back out. I found her, the one I had been looking for. Before I knew it, I saw myself lying on old, 70's style fabric covered chaise lounge. I was Elmo, lying beside the girl, both of us sleeping. I began to wake up as she said "Elmo, I love you." I began to morph into what I really was, a dog and she took a different face as well. Now, I was awake. I realized that I was a dog, not Elmo and it had all been a dream. Waking up from a dream of dreaming always make you contemplate it. When you're dreaming that you are a dog dreaming of being Elmo.. you have to really wonder..

Funny side note.. the other day, one of my students told me that I reminded her or someone in her class.. who is very annoying.. the rest of the lesson went the way you would think. The next day, I was told by her mother how much she loved the class and me. Go figure, huh?

d

If this photo had been taken just 2 minutes before, it would have been a thing of beauty. Chopping the vegetables, beating the eggs, and putting it all together - Cake. Flipping an omelette is another story entirely. There are always lapses in time between my omelette making, so this time.. I blame my dreams..

Somehow bowling in a desert causes me anxiety. It began inside at the ticket counter where my mother was paying in quarters for Shaye's bowling shoes. I sat watching with my brother, not saying a word, but on the inside feeling the most immense feeling of guilt and shame. Not because of the quarters. For the fact that I simply watched, seemingly helpless. I had to walk away. I came back as it was still going and even though I heard the conversation take place that he was just putting the transaction through and then we could leave, I took off anyway. I walked outside into the dry heat of the dusty desert. I climbed onto the old bus filled with rowdy teenagers. There too I sat, watching the goings on and taking absolutely no part. It reminded me of high school field trips. I got caught in the moment for a bit, the girls beside me taking pictures of everyone and secretly saying who they thought was ugly. Repulsive. Then we arrived. We were lead to back balcony seating for some sort of show I could not decipher. I meandered back and forth between the balcony and outside again, wondering why I had left them at the bowling alley without a word. I searched frantically for my phone to see why they hadn't called. I found that I had left it. They had no idea where I was or why I had left. They were stuck there waiting for me. I was sitting in my theater seat when I realized that I had to go back. I went outside and found the bus (now car) that we arrived in. I asked the driver to take me back immediately. My anxiety built as I almost jumped from the safe-speed-driving car to attempt to hail a taxi in the middle of an empty desert. It was too much.

Now, here I am with my messy omelette and decaf coffee. A morning suited for catching up with my journal. Two other dreams that I can recount recently are The Attic Dream and The Muggers Dream.. the nightmare came first..

A few weeks ago I had a rather disturbing dream in a series of disturbing dreams. This dream, I believe to have been triggered by a movie I went to see with Shaye, Carrie, and Keith. "The Woman in Black" which focused on the terrible, untimely deaths of children. My dream wasn't particularly happy feeling as I was in a huge attic warehouse. Around me were dozens of young children dressed in colonial garb, bonnets and long dresses. I really only remember the girls. I knew that something was taking place but didn't know what until, like a movie where slides are cut and paste, they were all individually hanging dead from the rafters. It was one of those dreams that felt so movie-like, where I was uninvolved, that it wasn't completely horrifying. It was only upon waking up that I realized how truly disturbing the dream was. The Muggers dream, however, was happiness.

They say that when you dream of dogs, it most often means happiness. This time, it's certainly true. The one that I consider to be my childhood dog was really my Uncle Walter's dog, Muggers. 9 years ago he died. Having this dream made me realize how much I still miss him. He came to me while I was traveling across Europe and Asia. Mugs came along with me as my traveling companion while we roamed the map. I wish the details were more vivid, but remembering back on it is good enough for me.

Having a whole other reality, or non-reality take place during my sleeping hours only extends and enriches my life. So what if it didn't really happen? I still remember it =)

I've given myself too much time to ponder on unknown things. At this point, I can no longer be mad at myself for not taking the initiative to find out for myself. I've gotten past not asking. For a time I thought, "maybe I really just don't want to know." Ignorance is bliss? Not in my head. If left long enough, I wrestle with it indefinitely. Some questions I have are easily answered but the answers aren't easily trusted. Science has corrupted me. I only trust answers I can back up with concrete, evidence. Visual facts.

The other questions are the spawn. Those are the big ones. The questions that maybe we can all answer if we really stop thinking about it and start listening. Listening. It's hard to hear through the medley of murmurs that float from the antipodes and back at the speed of light. It's a decision between keeping things unknown or reluctantly clearing that space and bringing them into the light.

Once the rest of life's clutter neatly tucks itself into my mind's dresser drawers, I'll address it. Until then, let noise from the maelstrom of nonsense drown my hideous, derisively truthful thoughts.

(Ps. "The results are in, amigo. What's left to ponder?")

Past injuries have had at least a bit more of a story to them.. something worth telling or telling of my life and past. This one? Not so much. This injury tells of my clumsiness, reminding me that I need to work harder at paying attention. It also reveals that I don't have laundry facilities in my home.. I was on my way to hang out with my good friend Will and get some laundry done simultaneously. On my way out the door and to my car, not being able to see well over my hamper, I must have misjudged the old, warped Savannah curb, twisting my ankle, and landing smack on the asphalt. After absorbing the initial pain (by good old-fashioned breathing exercises) I realized that I fell between two cars. Luckily, neither of them were attempting to move - or I could have been in an even worse situation. I panicked, calling my Mom to run downstairs and make sure I was okay. Then quickly decided, against her judgement, that I was fine and wanted to go see Will and continue my night. So, I did. I didn't take a picture of it that night, but I did the next morning (Wednesday, January 11th) and took one right before making this post... I was told by my chiropractor that is seemed to be a moderate sprain but if it wasn't looking/feeling better by the weekend (after icing and staying off it) to get it checked out. I'll check back on it on Monday I suppose.. =\











Vs. today..




And now.. the extent of what I "supposed" to be doing.. relaxisizing.. (Shaye had fun snapping photos of me during a moment of ignoring all obvious life problems. Yay!)

Back in the 912, conveniently located at the Springhill Suites in downtown Savannah! I had a whirlwind vacation to the Northeast. I worked late Friday night, kindly was driven by LaShawn to the airport the next morning, and arrived in NJ Christmas Eve afternoon.

I love seeing my family even with the usual craziness. Luckily, there wasn't much of that, especially for the fact that I was only there for 2 full days. We drove back home Monday and Tuesday. I came back to busy busyness at VVGG's. Which for some reason I completely didn't expect for a Winter Wednesday. Unfortunately, most of my clientele were not in much of a holiday spirit. Which prompted an event at the very end of the night that left me feeling weirdly hurt and dispirited.

One of the worst feelings to me is being patronized. For some reason, it hurts better than the rest.

I'm doing better at getting into the Christmas spirit! 1/2 of my living room is being used as storage, hence the curtain and screen! So, this is my mini Christmas set-up with gifts from my students and Carrie. Christmas workshop with the kids this morning was full of fun holiday crafting as well. Which made it to my tree. The only disappointing thing was having to work late and get up early = not enough time at the Vinnie's Party =( I wish that I could've stayed much longer, especially since I pushed for it and tried to help organize it. The one nice thing is not having the hangover! The food was awesome, as always; Will made badass grain alcohol cider. Which was pleasant to sip on while watching the Secret Santa festivities! This year I traded for Tim-O so that I could make him a gift idea that popped into my head. I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. Although, while gathering materials for it - at Tim's house - I had reason to think he wouldn't like it. Sooooo... I rushed out and bought a french press (as he thought that Lindsey was planning to get him a coffee maker). Yay! He seemed happy and surprised to get both. And my gift was wrapped a billion times.. in a bag.. and labeled. A lunch box with the words "Hot Lunch" pasted all over it. I'll never live it down. And just for fun, Will threw some baconlube inside the lunchbox. Geez. Everyone loves to get me the most ridiculous gifts. But I suppose thats just the Vinnies way. On my way out, a number of my friends rolled in. One of these days I won't have to rush out to go back to work!