Sunday, August 24, 2008

twentyeight: last day of freedom

i saw some necklaces at south moon under that i really liked. a lot of the jewelry incorporated different types of chains, stones, and rings. i tried to come up with my own interpretation of this style, making a few asymmetrical necklaces and using some big silver rings i had, but they don't really work for me. i think i like the looks of wooden rings and big beads (like this one), so next time i go bead shopping i will get some chunkier pieces.

i have some ugly throw pillows in my room, so yesterday i recovered one of them.

Friday, August 22, 2008

twentyseven: hurray biden!

i have spent the past forty-eight hours doing two things: reading the last books of the twilight series and watching the first season of damages. i just finished damages last night and i am still thinking about how it ended. i loved the fact that everyone is so bad and you never really know what is going on. thankfully, all of the loose ends were tied by the end and they did a good job of setting it up for the next season.
as of tomorrow, my blog name will be outdated. i have been thinking about new names for my blog like, 'the employed crafter' (doesn't really roll off the tongue) or 'the soon-to-be unemployed crafter' (that sounds a little pessimistic and depressing). i think for now, i will stick to my current name.
i am beginning to feel a little nervous about starting work. i have been unemployed for so long, it is hard for me to believe that i finally have a job and will no longer have an endless supply of time to do whatever i want. i feel the same way i did before starting a new school, unsure of what is expected of me, anxious about meeting people, and and worried that i will be able to do everything.
on another note, i am so pleased that obama chose biden for his vp! i like the fact that biden fills in most of the holes that i wanted obama to fill (more foreign policy experience and more time in the government). as someone who wasn't very excited about obama (i wanted hilrod to get the nomination), i am much happier and much more enthusiastic about the obama biden ticket!
here are three necklaces i made before gorging myself on tv and books.
the clasp doesn't look too bad in this picture, but i didn't a pretty messy job on it. the necklace falls really nicely and looks good, but i am actually pretty embarassed by my poor craftsmanship.
i had some pieces of amber left over from some necklaces i restrung. i think this necklace was a real success, it has taken me awhile to find a non-tacky way of combining cloudy and clear amber chips.
i don't like this necklace much, but it took me quite a long time to make, so i am not going to cut it up. the colors are a little too muted for my taste, but it falls nicely and

Thursday, August 14, 2008

twentyfive: the weasley blanket

i have been trying to force myself to like this afghan. it is not my typical aesthetic, but i have found a way to like it. i decided that it would be a perfect fit with the weasley family - you know from the harry potter books. i am now embracing the left-over, patched look of the quilt, and am more forgiving of its ugliness. i know this sounds silly, but when i work on it i imagine mrs.weasley sitting in the the burrow, crocheting and talking to harry potter. now that there are no more upcoming harry potter books and the movie has been postponed, this is helping me to keep my harry potter fantasies alive.
i love mario kart and the earlier mario brothers games, so when i found a website dedicated to nintendo themed crafts i had to try to do something myself. i decided to make my brother, who is an avid gamer, a mario brothers pillow. i never expected my brother to like it very much, but seems to enjoy showing it to people and is even taking it back to college with him.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

twentyfour: big news!

i am no longer unemployed! yess! after my long and fruitless search i have finally manage to snag a job and it happens to be a fairly good one. i am not exactly sure what i will be doing, but who cares! i have a little under two weeks before i start work, so i am taking advantage of my free time before i start my life of drudgery.
i haven't been doing much crafting lately, instead i have been reading. i blame jhair for my new obsession with the twilight series . the best way i can describe it is that it's a teen-vampire-romance (it's a lot better than it sounds). i have read the first two books and am now waiting for amazon to send me the last two books. i am not really sure what to do with myself while i wait, i am constantly thinking about what will happen in the next two novels and what did happen in the first two. i suppose it is healthier for me to take a break from this vampire saga, but i am finding it almost painful!
in-between reading and crafting i am trying to become a more rounded, more intellectual person. in order to achieve the lofty goal of improving myself i have been trying to perfect my crossword skills and i have been reading more poetry. i am not really sure if a knowledge of poetry and crossword solutions makes one more rounded or intellectual but it seems to make sense to me. i usually only read works by e.e. cummings, but i am learning to appreciate a larger spectrum of poets. one of my new favorite poems is the love song by j. alfred prufrock by t.s. eliot. i am not sure i totally understand it, but that kind of makes me enjoy it more. it is quite long, but i think it is worth a read.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
-T.S. Eliot

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question…

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.