Friday, April 28, 2006
The companies that do this really piss me off, because they pay someone to generate revenue for them, while creating work for me. On Saturday morning while I'm drinking coffee and feeling the warmth of the sunlight filter in from over the rooftops, I sit at the kitchen table, and open and sepearte these letters. The senders are usually credit card lenders, promising to put their pretty and colorful plastic cards with ridiculously high interest rates in my wallet. In their attempt to persuade me to apply for and use their credit card, they plaster my personal information all over the pack of shit in the envelope. As a result, I sift and sort through, recycle the pile of paper, throw out the stupid plastic envelope window thingy, and since I don't have a shredder I manually cross-cut the sections with my name and address on it.
I seem to get 5 to 10 of these things a week. They really start to pile up after a while. I have a paranoia that if I just chuck the letter in the garbage, some meth head is going to sort through my trash steal my identity.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
The other day I spent most of my time out of the office, on the road. I was out for about 5 hours, driving around town, talking to people, dropping off and exchanging information with several people and agencies. All day I was reaching in and out of my bag, giving out flyers, and at some points I took out a notebook I carry, to job something down, or leave notes for my contacts who aren't in their offices when I drop by. I left a few notes, gave someone some directions, gave someone the name and number of a referral, and dropped off materials in 12 different places. It was a beautiful sunny day and I was feeling good.
My notebook is a funny, ever evolving book I keep with me at all times. In this book I jot down any observations, thought, grocery lists, list of things to do, directions, phone numbers and email addresses, incomplete number sequences, and bad drawings. I had no idea it was even missing until after I got back to the office and checked my voicemails. After a series of mumbling messages leaving mundane requests, a bold, crisp and clear message came from a woman who worked as a receptionist at a mental health treatment facility asking me if I lost a notebook, and proceeded to describe it. I panicked; my heart jumped into my throat, and my palms started to get really sweaty. I rifled through my briefcase, and alas! The notebook in question was missing. I was both relieved that someone found it, but freaked out that they’d read it and think I’m mental.
After a lengthy game of phone tag, I finally spoke with the woman who found my book. I thanked her, and coordinated a time when I could come by and pick it up. We both had pretty busy schedules, so the next time we could meet was the following morning about 9 AM. I offered to go by her office, which was on the opposite side of town, and my route took me on a nice ride behind the airport. It was a nice day, and the airport is right on the river, surrounded by nature preserves. I was a little nervous about meeting her; she ended up holding onto my book for about 24 hours or so, and even though she denied reading it, I know she had to have. My only consolation is that my handwriting may be undecipherable in some parts of the book.
Friday, April 21, 2006
This bridge disappointed me, it's call the SR-509 bridge. Now, I'm not too into the design. I can appriecaite that it's different, and it exists in Tacoma, WA, near a district that is getting a gentrification--re-finished boardwalk on the river, museums, art studios and artists moving into scores of new condos, a nearby marina and restauraunts on the water. As much as I don't like the design, I have to appreciate its uniqueness; I can't say I've seen a bridge like this one before. Honestly, though, who ever is in charge of naming the new bridges in Tacoma could have come up with something much better then the SR-509 bridge.
Anyway thinking about myspace in general, it's kind of like a pandora's box, I didn't want to really get involved, it seemed like so much work customizing my profile, putting bits of code in the "About me" section and it magically transmits a color coordinated format. I ended up creating a profile anyway, and my brother and a few of my step brothers were on, so I thought it'd be fun to keep in touch. Then I met a couple of slackers at work who were on myspace all the time, and it becaume extra funny because we would all sit mere feet from each other and comment to each other. So through this process a growing number of people I went to high school with are finding my blog, through a friend of a friend, and now I have like 26 or something friends.
A slightly different and really neat feature of myspace is the ability to find band official sites, and make them your friends, and you can bump them up to the number 1 spot on the top 8 friend blurb that previews your entire collection of friends. So number 1 friend spot on myspace is Duan Duran, and you should definately visit their sight. You can look at pictures and read their blog, and they don't seem like trainwrecks like other bands that have come back.
Here's a link to visit Duran Duran's myspace ssite.
The Queens of the Stonage and The Yeah Yeah Yeah's have my number 2 and number 3 spots, repectively.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Monday, April 17, 2006
Karen LaMonte's glass art is being shown at the Museum of Glass in Tacoma, WA in an exhibit titled Absence Adorned.
This was an exhibit of six life sized cast glass dresses, and several hand held mirrors with photo etchings in the reflective part. Very awesome. We weren't allowed to take pictures in this exhibit, and there were a few security guards wandering around looking authoritative. Despite the risk, I managed to sneak these two pictures. I thought these dresses were awesome, and was eerily awesome to see. The rooms were dimly lit, except for the illuminated glow coming from the pedistals where the dreses stood, motionless and timeless.
The glass was a thick, frosty clear, not quite white, but more of a dense frost clear, like thick ice.
More pictures from the museum coming soon...
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Friday, April 14, 2006
Here's a picutre I took yesterday with my camera phone--Extremo the Clown, a local celebrity and artist. He does art, and ran for mayor in 2004. When I saw him, he was crusing around the Hawthorne area, with a little dog in his lap, singing Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" at the top of his lungs, complete with young British Ozzy affect. Everywhere he drove around he was drawing tons of waving and pointing, like a member of the Red Triangle Circus or something.
Extremo's cars are art, and below is another car he designed. You can also learn more about him by visiting http://www.myspace.com/extremotheclown.
Some other art he's done. I know he's done alot of art around town in places I eat and shop. I'll be on the lookout for Extremo art and take pictures.
Marcus the ol' faithful sentry
Marcus' nemisis, Toby. Toby kicks his ass on a regular basis, I think.
It was an exciting and humbling experience to be able to pick the 1st, 2nd and 3rd prize winners for these contests: $25,000 here, 10,000 there, it was amazing. Sometimes the prizes were lame, like whole collections and numerous volumes of medical something-or-other, something that would collect dust. At first it was fun, I would put a couple of handfuls into a box and mix them all up, and pick three out.
That way seemed so right.
But then I realized the power I had, and it became righteous. As I was doing data entry for the crates and bags of cards that arrived on a daily basis from the post office, I started really reading and processing the information on the "from" label. Unusual names, and addresses started to stand out, and a few days later I found myself setting those aside. Not many, maybe 1 out of every 50 or so. Then I started setting aside Doctors who were from places that I like, far away, like Soldotna, AK, or with funny names, like Normal, IA or Boring, OR.
I felt like I was small person making a big change for a total stranger, who's name I picked, out of tens of thousands, and sometimes hundreds of thousands of cards with names on them. People I would never meet, in places I would probably never see.
I wonder what happened to all that plastic chatchski giveaway crap that ended up breaking after about 10 uses? I'm sure a large percentage of it ended up in the landfill, but where is the rest? And what percentage is still in use?