Me and guv’ner

So as soon as I heard that our very own Illinois Gov. Blagojevich was arrested this morning and was being held in a jail cell today, I thought of the card that I had made over the weekend.  Every time I make one of these cards, which is part of a deck that is grown to almost 50 (!), I share it with my card making group, and then I write a whole bunch about it the next day. Here are some kernels of wisdom this particular  card said to me…we always start with the “I am the one who…” phrase:

“I am the one who is inside a thick cushioned snowsuit-muting the outside world, paralyzing movement, getting fat and useless. I am the one who is a beat up car that’s most vital parts are rusting. I am the one whose parts are missing. I am the one who has painted over the same walls with 18 layers of old paint, glossing over history. I am the one who is a thick metal heavy door that hates to be opened and rarely ever does. I am grey matter that is quiet, muted, underground and with no new ideas.”

Man, this card’s a total drag. And it’s been overcast and sleeting all day. I’m sure it’s as sunny outside as it is in Rod Blagojevich’s jail cell today. Now is the Chicago winter of our discontent.

 

Living in a Creative Block!

Quick, send ideas! I’m in a creative block! Just. Plain. Stuck. Help me get over the bridge.

If you read the title differently…I could also be living on a creative block in the city right now…but it’s getting cold and I think everyone walks their dog and then goes inside to watch TV. It’s just feeling like November in Chicago. Sigh. Nope, not in a city block of creativity. My brain is blank.

In the meantime, I will look at the pretty yellow leaves while they’re still there.

 

“Un-making” Things

This blog space certainly sets out to be an inspiration to any and all creative pursuits but I couldn’t help but see the irony in the view out my kitchen window yesterday. On the day I wrote my first blog on “making things,” this is what I saw.

I was making coffee and watched in amazement as this snazzy machine took away this house’s last breath. I proceeded to take my first half-awake photo of the day. Its claws smashed through the walls like they were cardboard and debris went flying. The workers hosed the house down (gave it morphine) to keep the dust at bay as it got clawed.

I met a neighbor walking her dog who knew the couple that used to live there. (We met as I was getting into my car. If you paint your car in polka-dots, your neighbors will talk to you.) Apparently, when the wife died, the man continued to live there for years. The house fell into disrepair as so sadly often happens to old folks living alone. The man apparently made his living repairing pens. That’s right. Pens. I know you’re out there, buying new pens when you could save the earth and keep this man’s business afloat by taking in your old pens for service. SHAME. But no, you had to get new, shiny ones at Wal-mart while the pen cobbler’s house gets demolished. He has, seriously and sadly, moved to a retirement home though–the status of his pen repair business remains unknown– and his son has decided to do what you see here. I imagine old pens waiting for new life in box after box inside the house. (If these pens could talk, I mean write, what would they say?) Who wants to bet the new structure will be of cheaper quality and as hideous as a strip mall? And its new owner will sell mechanical pencils?!? I hate mechanical pencils. I could be wrong about this house. Maybe it had ghosts?

In any case, I will keep everyone informed of this lot as things develop.
Last month, I was building a tower with my 2 year old niece out of toy wood blocks. Well, I was building the tower. She watched mostly and waited eagerly for me to complete the last block. When it was completed, she karate-chopped and slid stomach first into the tower laughing hysterically. The tower was destroyed! Yes! Let’s build again! The taller the tower, the more fun the destruction will be! Yes! Don’t think about stability and aesthetics, just slap it together, Aunt Jean. It’s time to knock something down!

Boo-yah!…or something.