arlblog

2011 was tedious. but I’ll take a tedious year over a dramatic one.

managed to keep my family together, not get sick, keep my house and car, find some new music, spend time with friends… I’ve had enough excitement in my life to appreciate the mundane.

dates are a human construct. nothing except clocks and calendars actually changed overnight. people need to make their “new year’s resolution” every minute of their lives, not just on one day a year. resolve to learn from mistakes, forgive others and yourself, and floss regularly.

today’s link: daily mugshot

When you look into the mirror, are you proud of what you see?
Do you take it all for granted? Do you have all that you need?
~ Simple Things, Tedeschi Trucks Band

From last night, I might be over on the far right in that photo (in the audience).

Simple things:

sharp pencil on new paper.

youtube video of a cat going “nom nom nom.”

butter on fresh bread.

sleeping all night.

being on time.

sheets that smell like bleach.

beer froth mustache.

surfing.

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. I have a good excuse or two: I was sick a lot this summer, I lost a computer and two hard drives, I’ve been spending a lot of time driving my kid around, and I’ve re-dedicated to lifting weights regularly. Oh, and I might mention Farmville and Cityville if I were being honest.

But anyway, puzzles.

I had dinner with my scrappy friends last week and had a handful of fortune cookies. The first one said,
“All the puzzles in your life will soon fit into their proper place.”

I don’t remember what the other fortunes said. One of them said something about meeting a stranger—it was my misfortune to have left that one on my kitchen counter, where my husband saw it and harassed me about it for the rest of the week.

What can I say about puzzles? I like puzzles. Is there a “proper place” for puzzles? I thought puzzles were solved, not placed.

I believe that the process of puzzling over a puzzle (Yes, redundant, whatever—It’s my blog.) is infinitely more satisfying than that anticlimactic feeling of having just solved a puzzle. Just like, I guess, eating is more fun than being finished with eating.

Is the goal to puzzles to “place” them? If so, maybe I’ve been doing it wrong for all these years.

Proper place #1: Bedside table.

I loved Dell Puzzle magazines when I was tween/teenaged. Later, I subscribed to Games Magazine (back when Enigmatologist Will Shortz was the editor) and kept the most recent issue on a clipboard next to my bed. I always used a ball point pen, and was on a perpetual search for a pen that would still work upside down, because when you’re lying in bed, the pen is at an angle that makes it run out of ink. Remember the Astronaut Pen? I never bought one, but I sure wanted one.

It’s no surprise for me, as I read through Shortz’s wiki info today, that he worked at Dell/PennyPress before he worked at Games. I must have been subconsciously following him when I switched my allegiance from one magazine to the other.

Two things ruined Games Magazine for me: Will Shortz moved on (He’s the NYT Crossword Puzzle editor now. I’m totally jealous.) and they changed the binding of the magazine from stapled to glued so you can’t neatly fold the magazine in half to get to the inside pages easily anymore.

Proper place #2: In storage.

I have all of my almost-finished Games Magazines in boxes, in storage, along with my other subscriptions, such as MAD, SPY and National Lampoon.

I feel sorry for my survivors, who will have to go through my stuff after I’m gone, and will have to puzzle over my boxes of ancient, useless crap.

Proper place #3: On a shelf.

I’m not excited about jigsaw puzzles. I have a few, but they’re not interesting to me. I don’t feel mentally challenged by a jigsaw puzzle. I keep those on a shelf with my board games.

Proper place #4: Airplane carry-on.
Proper place #5: My bathroom.

I don’t have subscriptions to any game or puzzle magazine anymore. But I buy one occasionally, usually for airplane travel, and then let it die of old age in the bathroom. If you know me, you know I’m sort of germphobic, so once it goes into the bathroom, it stays in the bathroom until I throw it out. Same with the pen.

By the way, next time you hold a pen or pencil in your mouth, think about where else it might have been. It might have been in someone’s bathroom.

Proper place #6: On my blog.

But there are other puzzles too. Such as:

• Why does my husband stir his koolaid with a butter knife?
• Why do the King Soopers cashiers slam my ripe avocados and fruit onto the conveyor belt as if they hate my food?
• Why do I space out when they’re giving the local weather report, even though I fully intend to pay attention?
• What does Obama mean when he starts out by saying, “Look…”?
• Where’s that gardening tool I was just using yesterday?
• Why do people usually sneeze in sets of 3?
• et cetera, et cetera…

I never thought of Denver as a tourist destination. For me, growing up in the mountains near Aspen, Denver always was the place with a big airport where you switched from a little propeller plane to a big jet when you’re traveling to see relatives in another state. Just a through-point.

I’ve been living here for about 20 years. Oh. I just realized that’s almost half of my life! Well, 2/5ths of it, anyway. Okay, okay, more accurately, it’s 20/47ths of it.

Anyway (sorry, I do tend to ramble), I still don’t think it’s that wonderful here. I’m only here because the love of my life is here, and he will probably never leave, therefore I’ll never leave. It’s too hot in the Summer and too cold in the Winter. The traffic is lousy. The burbs are boring and repetitive. Houses and businesses that do have a fantastic view of the Front Range never take advantage of it.

All that being said, I do like art festivals, and there are many around here.

My favorite one is the Cherry Creek Arts Festival. If I didn’t live here, this is one of the tourist attractions for which I would come here as a tourist.

Before I had a kid, I had a whole routine for the CCAF, involving iced coffee and comfortable shoes. Then I had a kid, and the routine now included a stroller. Did you know that strollers have little baskets under the seats where you can store all your junk? Fantastic. But now the child is too big for strollers. Luckily, he likes art just enough to come with me, and look at every single display, with minimal complaint.

We just got back from the festival, and just in time, too, because the clouds just broke open and it’s pouring rain.

We’re headed back later this summer to visit the magic store and Show of Hands.

Here are some of our favorites.

Connie Verrusio, jewelry
“I never throw anything away,” she says.
email verrusio@earthlink.net

Beverly Hayden, found-object art
“Let your imagination come out to play!”
email beverly@angledart.com

Gena Ollendieck, books and mixed media collage
email indigostar40@hotmail.com

Jeff Condon, paintings & drawings
email jeffcondonart@sbcglobal.net

Audrey Heller, photography

Louis Tardy, sculpture

Roger Disney, oil painting

Relics Reborn, furniture
“It’s a shame our rich history and architecture is being bulldozed under, because once the barns that man created and nature enhanced are removed from the landscape, they are gone forever.”

Ann Wood & Dean Lucker, mechanical paintings

Kristin Holeman, jewelry
email kristinfineart@aol.com

Justin Dobbs Robinson, mixed media painting
email justindrarts@yahoo.com

Chris Roberts-Antieau, cloth painting
“Chris Roberts-Antieau began her career in art by walking out of an art class.”
email chris@chrisroberts-antieau.com

Kreg Yingst, linocuts & woodcuts
email kregyingst@cox.net

Pyper Hugos, salvaged metal jewelry
“I am intrigued by time and mother nature’s mark, evident in the raw beauty left behind.”
email pyper@yougotmojo.com

Andrew Woodward, paintings
email woodwardae@gmail.com

Mr. Hooper, art
“Self-training enabled me to develop a unique style filled with peculiar relationships between scale and proportion mixed with an odd sense of perspective.”
email hooper@mrhooperart.com

Kristin FitzGerrell, salvaged stuff assemblage
“I am forever drawn to the bits and pieces that have become useless to us in our busy, important lives.”

Ouida Touchón, printmaking
email ouida@ouidatouchon.com

Kemper, illustrations
“…states of being: fear, euphoria, alienation, humor.”
email kemper26@hotmail.com

Lisa Norris, paper artist
email lisa@madebyonegirl.com
(She had paper globe chandeliers with dress pattern paper that I loved. I tried to find an image of it online. They’re wonderful!)

Court Lurie, paintings
email court8@mac.com

Eric Burris, jewelry

Chris Giffin, found object jewelry

Kaiser Suidan, sculpture

Fobots, found object sculpture

Chelsea Stone, jewelry
“When they aren’t making jewelry they can be found drinking wine or bellydancing.”

Mullanium, jewelry & sculpture

Joan Sample, button jewelry
“raised on powdered skim milk and Mies van der Rohe”

Dolan Geiman, printmaking and sculpture

The following are my nine year-old son’s favorites from the show:

David Burton, mixed media
email dburton101@efl.rr.com

Keith Christopherson, egg carving
email grandpaone@wildblue.net

Jeffrey Zachman, sculpture
youtube
email jeff@zachmann.com

self portrait, flickr: arleighb.

I’m facing a birthday. I’ll be 47 on march 22nd.

when my mom turned 46, she messed up on her math and told people she was 47 for a year. then on her 47th birthday, she realized her mistake—so she was 47 for a second year.

I thought that was pretty funny. but I’ve almost done the same thing a few times this year. the only reason I haven’t is the memory of my mom’s mistake 27 years ago.

I think the bad math is because I’m at the age where a) there are a lot of years to count, b) the difference between 46 or 47 seems insignificant and 3) my brain can’t do simple math anymore.

apparently you lose the ability to do simple math just after you turn 46.

“there’s no need to write down where I took this picture—I’ll remember.”

I’d like to go back in time and tell my young self that I won’t remember. I never remember. I have over a million photos (I’m not exaggerating.) and I don’t know what half of them are.

and scanning in photos is making me face this defect.

here’s a nice photo I scanned in recently:

it was in an envelope that said, “Glacier 93″, so I will assume it was taken on my road trip in 1993, starting in boulder, heading north to the canadian border, then to the left coast and back again.

my only rule was to stay off the interstate. I had a $25 pup tent from k-mart and a little coleman stove. every 3rd or 4th night I’d stay in a hotel and use the shower. I only had one almost-”Deliverance” moment: after one look at those drunk guys around a fire, as they watched me pull into the parking spot, say something and laugh, I backed my little honda crx right back down the campsite road and got back on the highway…I didn’t need to pee that badly.

I have hundreds of photos from this trip. a lot of photos of my car in front of a pretty view. sort of a “proof I was here” photo.

but why did I take this picture, what was going on? because the water was pretty. but surely there was more. there was the sound, woooshing water. and probably a wet rock, ferny, dirt sort of smell. maybe it was cold. maybe I camped there. maybe it’s a famous stream of some kind.

I’m sure I thought I’d remember why and where I took the photo.

…this one, and a million just like it.

december 19, 2010 – january 3, 2011

day 1 of winter break: husb asleep on one couch. boy asleep on the other.

day 2 of winter break: gingerbread houses. I decorate them while he eats the icing.

day 3 of winter break: phone call from husb.

“what do you want for christmas?”

me: “where are you?”

him: “walmart.”

me: “nothing.”

day 4 of winter break (and 4 days before christmas): parking lot stress.

day 5 of winter break: nearly got run over at costco. not in the parking lot, but inside the store.

day 6: getting pretty damned tired of the ask-your-friends-for-help zynga snowmen and christmas trees.

day 7 of winter break, also christmas eve: $14 of lottery tickets for last minute gifts.

day 8 of winter break, also christmas day: hedonism, regret, recovery, repeat.

day 9 of winter break: I can’t find my regular things underneath the new layer of christmas clutter.

day 10 of winter break, also 2 days after christmas: “I’m bored. there’s nothing to do!”

day 11 of winter break, also 3 days after xmas: let the regifting begin!

day 12 of winter break: planning for back-to-school, time to restock the fridge and do laundry!

day 13 of winter break: I’m thinking of becoming a hermit.

day 14, also new years eve day: I feel I need to cram for a test that I’ve known about for a year.

day 15, first day of the new year: is “I resolve to stop picking my nose” expecting too much of oneself?

day 16 of winter break: we’re all getting really sick of each other.

day 17, last day of winter break: aw, is it over already?

angry bird illustrator file, right click (pc) or option click (mac) to download the file:
angry bird zipped illustrator file

angry bird jpeg, 500×500, 72dpi. right click (pc) or option click (mac) to download the image:

my memory sucks.

it took me decades to realize that I’m no good at remembering facts. like names and dates. I’m good at remembering ideas, situations and images. as an accomplished Bullshit Artist, I’m pretty good at Fact Assemblage, the ability to construct a pseudoeducated guess based on thin knowledge of a subject.

I have a theory that part of my having a dysfunctional memory is from having a somewhat unusual name. here’s the way an introduction goes:

me: hi, nice to meet you. I’m ‘arleigh’.

them: my name’s marywowarleighisanunusualnameI’veneverhearditbeforehowdoyouspellit?

me: a-r-l-e-i-g-h

them: blahblahblah?

me: yes no yes ::what was her name again? did she say her name? I can’t remember!::

so when I see ‘mary’ (if that really was her name) again, I will remember where we met, what she was wearing, how I felt about her, and so on, but I won’t remember her name.

• tip: if someone calls you “hey, buddy,” “hey, you,” or “yo, dude” it means they’ve forgotten your name.

it was a struggle trying to figure out dates from my childhood. I recall dates by using memory anchors. thank goodness for google. here are some examples of dates in the arleigh-timeline:

we lived in los angeles during a giant earthquake. I associate the numbers 79 and 71 with it. since I was in grade school, then the numbers mean ‘71, 7.9 richter scale.

I started high school in ‘77. I know this because I have a photo that I labeled “1979 dead horses” from the spring of my second year. I remember the photo, then extrapolate to figure out my high school years.

I moved back from australia just after clinton won the election. winter, 1992.

I started dating T the same week of the OJ simpson white bronco chase. we had been dating about a week and I went by myself to telluride bluegrass festival. the bronco chase happened while I was there. june, 1994, by the way.

I was pregnant with my son during 9/11. so he was born in ‘02.

I know, I know, I should remember my only child’s birth year. and I should remember the year we eloped (feb., 1997. I still have to look up that date, no mnemonic anchor for that one.) so when my mom calls me to ask me my birthday, again, I’m not really that bothered by it.

• tip: use your electronic calendar to mark events, even if you think you’ll remember later. your dog’s birthday & passing, magazine or online subscriptions, first day of kindergarten, best time to buy avocados and oranges (december, according to my calendar), when certain flowers are in bloom (june=clematis, carnations & roses), etc.

so next time I see you, don’t be hurt if I don’t remember your name. because I probably remember a lot of other things about you. okay, buddy?

• first day of preschool, 2005.

today is D’s first day of 3rd grade at a new school. I couldn’t sleep so here I am (3:30am).

for me, school was an escape from my homelife. and I think my mom was glad to be rid of me. I remember more about my childhood school life than my home life. books, friends, plays, field trips, teachers. the school world became my primary life, and home was a sentence I had to endure. I loved every kind of schoolwork (except science and memorization of names & dates). I adored school supplies. I loved dressing funky (and believe me I did) every day.

I get “first day jitters” for D. I’m nervous when I meet his teachers. and I’m jealous of him. I wonder if the bulk of his memories from childhood are from school or home

when he was 3, I put him in preschool. the first of two years of preschool. not because he needed to learn but he needed stimulation and interaction with other kids. I was very sick with colitis that year, and had just started remicade. my cheeks were puffy like a chipmunk from the prednisone and I was running for a bathroom every 20 minutes. sending him to preschool gave me some time to rest and heal.

I took him to a preschool and showed him the playground. he was so excited he wanted to start going that day. then I told him he needed to be in big boy undies to go to that school. I was too sick to get up from the bed or couch every time he needed to “go” so he basically potty trained himself. when he went for a full day in undies, I called the school and enrolled him for a few hours a day.

• first day of preschool (2nd yr), 2006.

that first morning in 2005 when I dropped him off, there were no tears. he was off, playing with his new friends, and didn’t care that I was leaving. I was both relieved and hurt. the teacher said, “that’s a sign of security. you’ve raised him well.” so that’s what I had to go on. but it was impossible to get him to leave, sometimes a tantrum upon leaving. so I guess he liked it.

he went to 3 preschools in 2 years. the 2nd one helped me realize that he had a speech disorder, or delay, and we worked on that through 2006. by the time he was in kindergarten, he had completed speech therapy. and we had dealt with the underlying reason: tonsils and adenoids.

• first day of kindergarten, 2007.

from K-2, he went to a private school which required uniforms (yuck). I never really liked khaki pants much anyway.

• first day of first grade, 2008.

• first day of second grade, 2009.

(update!)
• first day of third grade, 2010.