siiiigh

                                                                                       collection display tips via apartmentthereapy.com

                                                                               Circassian Beauty, date unknown


In the 1860s, P.T. Barnum exhibited women whom he claimed were Circassian beauties. They wore a distinctive Afro hair style and were known as “moss haired girls.” Circassian beauties were typically presented as victims of sexual enslavement among the Turks, who 
had escaped from the harem to achieve freedom in America.   via black and wtf

i'm just beginning to get my footing back as we settle into fall here. i went from spending forty-five hours per week with 8 year old twins (the "indoor" type), to a week of sunshine sloth & pork bbq gluttony in the outer banks to a week of sunshine sloth & pork bbq gluttony in nashville, to jumping straight into studio art courses at the museum school and a new, moderately uncomfortable job (albeit due in part to its "newness"). to go from monotony to extreme comfort to extreme discomfort has been somewhat of a physical and mental shock. but i'm alive. and i have basic cable. and i can now fry my eggs in my skivvies and pee with the door wide open so hallelujah praise the lord, life is good. oh, and fall is approaching; boy do i love the shit out of this season. 

nashville was lovely...a weird town if you stay there for more than a few days, but a drunken and fantastically good time for honkey tonk and rockabilly and a generally unhealthy lifestyle. live music blares from bars as early as 10am on weekday mornings, and not just music but damn good music, here, there and everywhere. there was robert's western world, a little joint where i was lucky enough to see one of the most incredible upright bassists perform- "slick" joe fick, he slappadabass. we visited willy nelson's country store, the dukes of hazzard museum and of course, the country music hall of fame where i was able to ogle hank williams' cowboy boots and swanky suits and revel in the tininess of dolly parton's waist size. elvis presley had a sick car and one pimped out piano, 24k gold-leafed to boot. and let's not forget the point: a gorgeous friend's absolutely gorgeous wedding, chock full of love, mason jars and wood slabs, mint juleps and grateful dead covers.

to have exited the mind-numbing, corporate world of packed phone lines and fax machines and term reviews and evolved into a mrs. doubtfire of sorts was unexpected to say the least. but it has served me well, and i feel at least slightly more on my way to the notion of a goal or dare i say "career." even so, in this economy i feel almost lucky to have the experience that i do to fall back on, regardless of whether or not one might deem it "professional" for the time being. after all, money in your pocket is money in your pocket...and hot dog do i want to buy me some vintage furniture to fill the capacious living room that stares back at me cooing fill me, fill me with crap! and i say, i say one day i shall. 

adventures in babysitting has at least improved; no longer must i deal with the quirks of asberger's, the repetitive monologues and arbitrary obsessions. the coercion to play/overwhelming presence of epic pokemon games or of star wars monopoly. the too-well-balanced meals i was forced to serve (peanut butter on lettuce?!) and my subsequent uncontrollable urge to smuggle candy and chocolate in and down their throats. misbehave, at once! nor must i ask said asberger's child of the quality of his bowel movements daily, and per strict orders report back to mommy, it was soft, like the letter "S". yes, it is possible that one can even find humor in such daily events. like every wednesday when the local fish share would arrive and i would be asked to de-gut or boil a broth out of a severed fish head...a broth which would sit and fester on the stove for days until one brave soul might venture into the backyard and dump it into a bush (true story). in comparison, my life now seems posh; i get to drive a car around cambridge, and i am invited to dinner. the worst i get is an attitude problem and snarky quips, but a i am the queen of such things so i'm bound to survive.

i'm both terrified and excited to paint, print, and solder my way through this semester. after depleting my savings account to do so, i'm attempting to be unlike my daria self and proceed with some panache. fingers crossed.

good morning