Hurrah For Anarchy!

I'm totally pimping the BF's new tattoo studio which I've been helping out with. ( Flyer under teh cut. ) 
 

This thing is made of awesome!  Has anyone else seen this?

I'm not dead, honest. Here's something cool.

What Marvel Hero would you be (Version 2)?

You scored as a Wolverine

Wolverine is a mutant who possesses the ability to regenerate damaged or destroyed areas of his cellular structure at a rate far greater than that of an ordinary human. Wolverine’s healing factor provides him with an extended lifespan by slowing the effects of the aging process.Wolverine’s skeleton includes six retractable one-foot long bone claws, three in each arm, that are housed beneath the skin and muscle of his forearms.Wolverine also possesses superhumanly acute senses, making him capable of seeing things at a maximum distance greater than a normal human’s.

Wolverine 70% Mister Fantastic 60% Blade 60% Spider-Man 50% Iron Man 45% Captain America 40% The Hulk 35% The Thing 25%

I know I'm a geek because this made me happy.

Statute of limitations begins to run out for earliest Ciudad Juarez killings

Full Article Here

Experimenting with the Beat generation. Diane DiPrima, Levertov. I actually wrote this for a contest over at writerscafe.org You are welcome to visit me over there too.

I've let my inner feminist out of her cage. She's a might cranky.
Enjoy!


There are too many martyrs
to the feminine mystique
too many gone wild
to remember
that strength is not
what you can get from them
with your breasts
and open thighs
with your slim and tanned expanse

Cosmo is your Burqa.

Oh my daughters
do not be covered over
withthat prepubescent approximation
What sad failure it is
my sisters
that we do not recall
the grit teeth
the molten eyes banked against sorrow
the grim fortitude of
sweating
scrubbing
birthing
it took to get this far

I promised art. Here you go. It's digital. Done in painter classic with my tablet. I must admit I'm a bit rusty.

I've been messing about with other forms of poetry. Here's my take on a modern form of tanka.

I cannot write
the words
to mourn with abandon
this pen bleeds
evasive tears

Shroud of desert sands
impassive cacti stand guard
give no proof of life.


Information can be found here.
More here.

This is a subject that I've been coming back to for years. I can't get it out of my head.

HA!

Okay, so really I have been working on my haiku...I'm just not so good at remembering to post. 

For some reason my son (whom I have taken to calling Heinrich Von Stinkenbottom or Muckbutt) thinks it's funny to wake mommy up at 4am. Not so funny little man! Just wait until you are older...I am sooo taking you to school in curlers and a bathrobe. With the most obnoxious fluffy slippers I can find.

On another note..I wish that I did not second guess myself so much. I get something finished, be it haiku or painting, or piece of jewelry and I'm happy with it for about 5 minutes. Then I go back and mess with it until I truly hate it and don't even want it in the house.  

This is one of my favorite artists. This song in particular inspired the first haiku.

Little teeth like knives
flailing, wailing demon boy
zygomatic arch.

Take that Mr. Tagore.

The song is over
No more thumping grinding bass
Sleep comes finally.



Damn teenagers anyhow. Must go nap now. 


EDIT: This made me giggle.

Oh look! I can finish something I start! 

Here is the haiku for today. Let me just say that I am so happy to see the sun. 

Tiny suns blooming
unappreciated bliss
rain is far away


Now I am going outside to mourn my lavender and watch my son try to play billy goat and eat grass everything.

Edit: to refresh one's memory
Edit2: hee hee meta-wiki.
Did I mention I'm addicted to wikipedia? well i am.

Okay, so I have been in a seriously nasty mood for the last couple of days. I'm blaming it on the rain.(unintentional Milli Vanilli reference) It's been raining for three days which I think has killed my lavender. *pout*  

I don't think I've ever really realized how much my mood is tied to the weather. Almost makes me want to try some light therapy. Or go to the tanner. Of course if I did that it would melt my skin off. Confound the English-Irish heritage! The Boyfriend has some Native American heritage so he just gets darker and darker in the summer. No burns. Ever. 
Meanwhile I can, and have, gotten burnt in the shade. The freaking shade!

Now that I'm deliciously off topic, the point to this entry is to inform everyone that I've decided to stop being a big baby and convert my  "wah, wah, pouty-face" and "snarling, slavering cranky pants" into creative energy. I'll write one haiku everyday. I'll feel like I've acomplished something creative no matter what. Even if it's a haiku about hotsauce or muffins.  (I love muffins)
I'm sure everyone knows what they are, but this is really informative. Edit: So is this.

Here is my first attempt. As always feel free to comment, critique or join in.

House hums with silence
I think of warmer weather
coffee has gone cold

Hooray! The snow is melting!

Kinda. Hopefully next week I'll be able to plant my fowers. My tiny kitchen is cluttered with little plastic baggies with sprouting seeds in them. Zinnias, alyssum, Pinks, and lavender.  So far it's mostly the zinnias that are sprouting. Hooray for fuschia and lime green!

It seems to be that time of year again. The weather changes every five minutes (rain, shine, rain, shine) and my allergies have kicked in. Instead of sneezing my wee little head off I have a boat-load of sinus pressure. 

Someone is trying to kick open my lid from the inside and I don't like it.
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So I was watching Glenn Beck the other day. He's on of those talk radio people on CNN (or whatever...all those "news" stations seem to be the same damn thing) He had a whole segment devoted to how Hilary Clinton's voice was "like nails on a chalkboard". He conferred with Danny Bonaduce(!) and they have decided that she won't be elected because no man could stand to hear her nagging voice for four years. Made no mention of her political track record or her election platform...just "She sounds like a shrew". Way not to be a neanderthal dude.
***************************

In other news, I had some bananas about to go bad and i thought, "Waste not, Want not". So I made 36 banana nut muffins. They are a glorious homage to muffin-y goodness and my grandmother's fantastic recipe. 

But now I have 36 muffins in my tiny kitchen taking up space like tribbles. (Big Ups to my fellow nerds who get that reference.) I've been pushing muffins on anyone who walks in the door. I am now the muffin pusher.

...One of them is not getting what you want. The other is getting it."

--Oscar Wilde

So I read an article about how climate change is effecting native tribes in the Canadian territories. (I can't actually find the article now so y'all are screwed) Theses tribes rely on pack ice to truck in supplies like food and gasoline in order to survive. Apparently the median spring temp has changed by  0.8 degrees. This causes the ice to melt faster and shortens the amount of time they have to haul in supplies from a couple of months to like a couple of weeks. 0.8 degrees between living comfortably and possible starvation. 

Nope there's no such thing as global warming. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.



0.8 Degrees

There is no money for tobacco.
The ice does not stay as it should and the men are tired.
Some of them leave for the promise of the city;
easier than chasing brother rabbit in the bush.
the elders say "you will find that money cannot be eaten"
Those that stay,
are weighted into the mud
which clings to tires,
boots,
clothing.
I melt snow to scrub the floors each day
on my knees with part of an old shirt.
Grandfather sits in the sun
pipe in his gnarled hands
he does not complain.


I havent actually written poetry in about a year. Feel free to critique. I'm sure I need it.

Let us begin in the middle of the story, where all good beginnings should be, really. 
I just started reading Night's Master by Tanith Lee for like, the millionth time. There are certain books that I always come back to.  I have been trying to soothe my brain enough to actually read a whole book instead of reading just half and getting bored.
 
I tried the Silmarillion by Tolkien, beacause everybody talks about it. I didn't make it to the halfway point. 

I tried Blood and Gold by Ann Rice. I got halfway and thought, "By God, Marius is depressing the sh*t out of me". Then I skipped to the ending and thought that if I had actually read all of it I would be angry , not depressed. It just seemed like a rush job. 

So, I figured I'd go back to a comfort book. I always imagine, when I am reading this series, that I'm off in the desert somewhere. Under a tent listening to the story teller of some strange tribe, letting the campfire scent and night breezes ease away the stress of the day. Amazing what demons, mild erotica, and downright wickedness can do for a girl!
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I just fed my son so now I am partially covered in pureed sweet potatoes. He thinks that is just Hilarious. Sweet potatoes are surprisingly difficult to get out of clothing once the stain has set. They are also surprisingly difficult to get off of a squirmy, dirty, little lizard boy.  He thinks that is also Very Funny.

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I would be interested to know what books comfort other people.  I'm always looking for new and intriguing things to read. From Dracula to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.