Wow um. I haven't been on here in over a year.
Here's what's been going on with me:
-I'm working as a private Japanese tutor, and as an ACT Prep tutor with a company called StudyPoint. I also do freelance translation occasionally.
-I am still living in my parents' house, because part-time tutoring gigs don't even pay for groceries, let alone gas or rent.
-I volunteer once a week at a place called WordPlay in Northside, which offers homework and academic help to local students, free of charge. I also run the bookbinding guild there.
-My grandmother died at the beginning of January, after a short struggle with lymphoma. I just got back a few days ago from a month's stay in Sweden, where I attended the funeral and helped to go through her effects.
-I have not made any major comics or art pieces since I graduated in 2012 (I'm not counting that video piece I did for FotoFocus, because I started working on that while still in school). I've done a few drawings here and there, one painting commission (that I traded for a custom-made cape), and more than a handful of hand-bound books.
-I am still a coordinator with The Denton Affair. In fact, after this Saturday, I will be the most senior coordinator in terms of time spent in the position. Our current theater liaison is leaving, and our art director stepped down in December. The new art director is extremely capable and I think the new liaison will do fine, but it's weird to think that I'm suddenly the veteran out of the three.
The art I DO make is posted on my tumblr. It's sort of time-consuming to post art here. I've been thinking about revamping this blog to do fountain pen reviews (because I suddenly have enough pens to do review of them [I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM]) but that, too, is somewhat time-consuming, so we'll see.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Pony.
Anybody remember my response to Chris Collins' "Pony" video? Here it is again:
It was recently shown, along with Chris' original, at Chicago's Suitable Video MDW Fair screening room, curated by Scott Wolniak. And someone wrote a blurb about it!
This is pretty exciting to me, considering I've never had anyone write about this work. I don't think I've ever even written about it, besides the YouTube description. So, uh. Thanks, Robert Chase Heishman of the Chicago Artist Writers!
It was recently shown, along with Chris' original, at Chicago's Suitable Video MDW Fair screening room, curated by Scott Wolniak. And someone wrote a blurb about it!
This is pretty exciting to me, considering I've never had anyone write about this work. I don't think I've ever even written about it, besides the YouTube description. So, uh. Thanks, Robert Chase Heishman of the Chicago Artist Writers!
Monday, November 12, 2012
NaNoWriMo and Coordination
Two things:
1. I am the new coordinator of The Denton Affair. Or I will be, once Aaron leaves on the 24th. I am already taking over some duties, though, like training.
2. I am doing NaNoWriMo again. I promised myself I wouldn't, but here I am. I thought I'd share an excerpt in lieu of any drawings I haven't made or photographs I haven't taken. Keep in mind I'm not really editing much as I go, that's what December is for.
In 2004 at Sycamore Junior High, in the eighth grade, you had to take one of two classes: home economics, which involves cooking and sewing, and technical education, which involves woodworking and learning to wire a lamp. Guess which one I took?
I was the only girl in a class full of boys taught by a man. We had assigned seats by name, and the three boys at my table didn’t seem quite sure what to do with me. So they duly ignored me, and I them. I was quiet more or less that entire semester, unless I was answering the teacher’s questions. I learned more about the minds of fourteen-year-old boys than I ever wanted to know. I also learned to make a chessboard, to create and wire a lamp, to design a weight-bearing bridge and a slim aerodynamic racing car (mine came in second in the class, the wheel axles weren’t quite straight so it lost in the final race).
The chessboard was the final project, and we were allowed to choose our wood. Every boy in the class chose dark walnut and pale pine. I went for cherry and maple, two woods that looked almost the same under the wood shop fluorescents. I remember not wanting to do what everyone else was doing. I wanted to be able to distinguish my product from everyone else’s. When I asked Mr. Hafer for my wood choices, he looked at me and then said, “That should look really good, actually. The cherry will darken over time.” He never told me that I ought to be doing walnut and pine. He just let me do it. In retrospect, maybe he didn’t know quite what to do with me either, but in any case the autonomy he granted me was just what I needed.
1. I am the new coordinator of The Denton Affair. Or I will be, once Aaron leaves on the 24th. I am already taking over some duties, though, like training.
2. I am doing NaNoWriMo again. I promised myself I wouldn't, but here I am. I thought I'd share an excerpt in lieu of any drawings I haven't made or photographs I haven't taken. Keep in mind I'm not really editing much as I go, that's what December is for.
In 2004 at Sycamore Junior High, in the eighth grade, you had to take one of two classes: home economics, which involves cooking and sewing, and technical education, which involves woodworking and learning to wire a lamp. Guess which one I took?
I was the only girl in a class full of boys taught by a man. We had assigned seats by name, and the three boys at my table didn’t seem quite sure what to do with me. So they duly ignored me, and I them. I was quiet more or less that entire semester, unless I was answering the teacher’s questions. I learned more about the minds of fourteen-year-old boys than I ever wanted to know. I also learned to make a chessboard, to create and wire a lamp, to design a weight-bearing bridge and a slim aerodynamic racing car (mine came in second in the class, the wheel axles weren’t quite straight so it lost in the final race).
The chessboard was the final project, and we were allowed to choose our wood. Every boy in the class chose dark walnut and pale pine. I went for cherry and maple, two woods that looked almost the same under the wood shop fluorescents. I remember not wanting to do what everyone else was doing. I wanted to be able to distinguish my product from everyone else’s. When I asked Mr. Hafer for my wood choices, he looked at me and then said, “That should look really good, actually. The cherry will darken over time.” He never told me that I ought to be doing walnut and pine. He just let me do it. In retrospect, maybe he didn’t know quite what to do with me either, but in any case the autonomy he granted me was just what I needed.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Doodles. And a complaint.
...why does the public library have so little written by Flusser? You'd think that at least the Main Library downtown would have something. And aaaaaaarg.org was taken down, grr.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Giggles and other stuff (storytime, children)
Last night The Denton Affair had a show at the Rave theater in Florence, KY. We only do those quarterly, so I had never been to one until I was cast last-minute in last night's show, as Brad.
Rave theaters are weird. The seats are stadium-style and super-plush, and up high are the most expensive ones that are like couches. This particular theater had 364 seats and we filled maybe 50 of them. The audience had a surprising amount of older people in it--I've gotten used to the crowds of giggly 15-year-olds who watched the Glee episode.
The show went smoothly, for the most part. Until the end. Riffraff and Magenta come in brandishing what's supposed to be a laser gun thing and with it they threaten, then kill, Frank. (The link will take you to a recording of one of the RKO Army's performances of that scene.) Except Jake, our Riff for the night, had forgotten to bring the one from the Esquire. So he grabbed one of those tinsel table centerpieces out of the party room that the Rave had offered us as a dressing room. It was pink and glittery, with little paper balloons on it. It was ridiculous. I had mentioned to Chris (who played Dr. Scott) earlier in the show that as the night wore on, everything seemed to be getting more and more absurd. He thought I mean absurdly funny, but I meant it in a more Camus' "The Stranger" sort of way. But also, I suppose, funny.
And now Riffraff was marching toward us with a grim angry look on his face, brandishing this ridiculous object at us. I started to giggle but tried to control myself. I can usually hold it together until I get out of the spotlight. It got worse as I kept looking at this thing that Jake was shoving in Chris' face. I hid in Janet's (Hannah's) hair and tried to get a grip. I couldn't stop laughing. My stomach muscles were starting to cramp. Hannah was smiling too, probably because I was laughing in her ear.
The line of dialogue that sends Brad, Janet and Dr. Scott off stage is Riffraff's imperious, vaguely threatening, "go. Now."
Jake said instead, "Happy. Birthday."
I wheeled Dr. Scott across the stage and collapsed on the other side, wheezing. I couldn't stop until it was time for Superheroes. It was one of those silent, crippling laugh-attacks, where all you can do is curl up in a ball and wheeze and your face looks like you might even be in pain but really you just cannot stop laughing so hard you feel you might pass out. I pulled it together long enough to do Superheroes straight-faced, barely.
I will say in my defense that I was very tired and I woke up this morning with a head cold, so I wasn't entirely well, either. But that was one of the most egregious breaks in character I've ever had, in over two years of playing Brad.
Rave theaters are weird. The seats are stadium-style and super-plush, and up high are the most expensive ones that are like couches. This particular theater had 364 seats and we filled maybe 50 of them. The audience had a surprising amount of older people in it--I've gotten used to the crowds of giggly 15-year-olds who watched the Glee episode.
The show went smoothly, for the most part. Until the end. Riffraff and Magenta come in brandishing what's supposed to be a laser gun thing and with it they threaten, then kill, Frank. (The link will take you to a recording of one of the RKO Army's performances of that scene.) Except Jake, our Riff for the night, had forgotten to bring the one from the Esquire. So he grabbed one of those tinsel table centerpieces out of the party room that the Rave had offered us as a dressing room. It was pink and glittery, with little paper balloons on it. It was ridiculous. I had mentioned to Chris (who played Dr. Scott) earlier in the show that as the night wore on, everything seemed to be getting more and more absurd. He thought I mean absurdly funny, but I meant it in a more Camus' "The Stranger" sort of way. But also, I suppose, funny.
And now Riffraff was marching toward us with a grim angry look on his face, brandishing this ridiculous object at us. I started to giggle but tried to control myself. I can usually hold it together until I get out of the spotlight. It got worse as I kept looking at this thing that Jake was shoving in Chris' face. I hid in Janet's (Hannah's) hair and tried to get a grip. I couldn't stop laughing. My stomach muscles were starting to cramp. Hannah was smiling too, probably because I was laughing in her ear.
The line of dialogue that sends Brad, Janet and Dr. Scott off stage is Riffraff's imperious, vaguely threatening, "go. Now."
Jake said instead, "Happy. Birthday."
I wheeled Dr. Scott across the stage and collapsed on the other side, wheezing. I couldn't stop until it was time for Superheroes. It was one of those silent, crippling laugh-attacks, where all you can do is curl up in a ball and wheeze and your face looks like you might even be in pain but really you just cannot stop laughing so hard you feel you might pass out. I pulled it together long enough to do Superheroes straight-faced, barely.
I will say in my defense that I was very tired and I woke up this morning with a head cold, so I wasn't entirely well, either. But that was one of the most egregious breaks in character I've ever had, in over two years of playing Brad.
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| Like this, but with balloons instead of baseballs. |
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