In local news: Man shoots arrow wrapped in marijuana at Whatcom County jail. What I found interesting was the potential intersection of crimes. Does attaching drugs to a projectile compound the offense? Also, I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to squirrel hunt downtown. They always stop me, at any rate.
I am so happy when Paige comes into the library, because I want to see what she’s wearing. She’s like Anne of Green Gables crossed with a Neil Gaiman adventuress, and there’s a touch of Russian peasant + east coast boarding school, too. That may sound incoherent, but it works.
The words I think of when I see her are intrepid, funny and sweet.
I asked her to write something about the way she dresses. She did, and told me to use any bit of it I liked. I found it so interesting I didn’t want to edit it; here’s Paige, in her own words:
For me, it wasn’t until 8th grade that I started to make choices about how I wanted to look, which was, mostly, different from what I saw at the mall and at school. Before that I was stymied by the urge to conform to the preppy ideal which dominated in my New England hometown, which was at variance with my family’s budget. Once I discovered the punk scene, with its DIY attitude, glorification of vintage garments, and imperative to subvert the dominant paradigm, I realized that finances need never set me apart from my own style again. Punk culture…(MORE)
The county is working on our ferry dock again, with the floating crane.
This show, “Scissors for a Brush,” featuring the papercutting art of Karen Bit Vejle, was in Seattle, at the Nordic Heritage Museum. I’m so sad that I missed it. The video looks like a fairy tale with a sorceress who casts spells in paper. (Is there one like that? There should be.) She hid these beautiful things under a rug for so many years…it all seems a little unreal.
I pretended to buy my daughter a book that teaches you to cut out things like paper wreaths of knives and forks, or carrots and radishes, but it is actually for me. She loves the forks, though, and the radishes. I like the shadows and the light and the fragility of it all.
Our front door has a large window. People peer through it before they knock, and I scream and drop things when I see them, in spite of the three soothing hours of yoga I do every week. Without yoga, I’d probably attack. I wanted a curtain. We were snowflake obsessed at the time, so we put those over the glass instead. Now we have paper flowers, since the snowflakes made me feel cold.
I also wanted a curtain in the bedroom, and I did have a $6 vintage embroidered applique tablecloth that I was afraid to use on our table. We don’t have perfect table manners. To be truthful, we barely use plates. I really don’t deserve to own this thing.
Oops, babbling. My main point about the paper flowers and hanging a tablecloth over my window is this: both of those things were very easy, and I love that, which means my personality has undergone a deep restructuring. I don’t know why it happened. Apparently I wasn’t paying close attention. But I used to love only the difficult; sometimes I still like difficult things, but I no longer view them as inherently better then something less complicated.
In honor of uncomplicated but satisfying, here are links, for the knitters, of two of my favorite patterns: the idiot cloth (pictured, half finished, above), and a seeded rib stitch scarf (also above). The pleasant things about idiot cloth are that you don’t have to commit to a size at all, since you start on a corner, and you get a little edging with no extra effort. Seeded rib stitch looks the same on both sides, lies flat, and for some reason makes people think you worked very hard on their birthday present. All nice things.