Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Our pets


This is the first little guy we got. It's a Giant Sequoia (baby) from the gift shop at Muir woods. The entire time we were walking through those woods Misha kept looking for a pine cone, or some seeds, or even a little sequoia tree that he could take home and grow himself (technically illegal, but there really wasn't much of that to be found on the paths anyways). Luckily we found that they actually sold these baby trees as souvenirs. It seems to be turning brown at the bottom though and I don't really know why. I've gotten so much conflicting information on how to take care of these that I really don't know what the heck I'm doing.


This is the Coconut tree we picked up at IKEA. I just thought it was cool because the tree is growing right out of the coconut, plus it's a good size to have on the floor of our bedroom.


This is the orchid plant the Misha got me for my office. At first it had a bunch of really gorgeous flowers on it and more buds that were about to open. Unfortunately, I didn't know any better and watered them way more than they are supposed to be (orchids apparently only need about as much water as a cactus) so all the flowers died off prematurely. Now all that's left are the long green leaves and since I've stopped watering it it's doing just fine.


Now, the garden center in my neighborhood was selling carnivorous plants in the spirit of Halloween, so I got pretty excited when I saw them. Venus Fly traps, especially, are damn hard to grow, especially from seed. I remember one time Philip got a growing kit as a present because he was enthralled by the idea of them. We followed the instructions exactly, even keeping that big "terrarium" in the fridge for months to simulate the necessary dormancy period. But not a singe seedling so much as hinted at sprouting up outta that dirt. These ones were already pretty big as far as Venus Fly Traps go. I also got a bunch of the North American Pitcher plant because it looks nice in the pot. These eat bugs by luring them in with secretions that bugs are attracted to. Each plant is like a tube with some wind of water at the bottom, and once a bug falls in, escape is impossible and the plant digests it (somehow).

Thursday, September 30, 2010

My office

I love my office! It's awesome. I can honestly say that I feel happy in this space, even though it's a work space, which I usually wouldn't like. As soon as I saw this awesome yellow desk in West Elm I knew I had to have it. My big external monitor (another thing I've never had the pleasure of having before) is attached to the wall so it doesn't take up any desk space. On my desk I have space for a keyboard, mouse, and of course my Wacom tablet, plus a lamp and my beautiful orchid plant. The chair (from EQ3) is quite comfortable and ergonomic so I can work all day with getting major back aches like I used to, and underneath my desk I have a sheepskin rug which is SOO soft and fluffy under my feet. I have ample shelf space in arms reach for all my drawing supplies, books and files. Seriously, this space really couldn't be more perfect for me, I think it really shows my personality quite well. Here's a picture:

Just encase you were wondering, here's also a picture of my kitchen (well, at least our dining table) and bedroom. By the way, memory foam mattress+pillowtop cover= super comfortable, you sink into it like a down pillow, but it still gives you plenty of back support. Seriously mom (yes I'm talking to you since I know you're one of the only people that actually reads this stupid blog! hehe) you've got to try one of these pillowtop mattress covers on your bed. You won't regret it!


I'll post pictures of the living room/ rest of the apartment later.
Love you guys!!

Friday, September 3, 2010

The Beginning

It's my 12th day in San Francisco and I'm doing quite fine. the first day I got here was apparently the nicest day it had been in a long time, and it stayed that way for a couple days, which is a small miracle around here. I guess I just brought the sunshine with me from Texas.

As soon as I got out of the car in front of my new home I was immediately greeted by a most wonderful smell I can't say I've ever experienced in any other large city before. It reminded me of many happy days at Grandma's house in Minnitonka when I was young and had not a care in the world. I cannot explain where this scent might have been emanating from, but the sense of warmth and welcoming it gave me was incredible.

The next couple of days were filled with non-stop preparations, shopping, organizing, putting furniture together. It seemed that we were getting at least 20 packages a day, and like a child a Christmas, I was eagerly opening each one, finding silly things like a lemon squeezer, a package of 60 Bic pens, and even, to my delight, slides and scientific instruments to use with our newly acquired microscope.

I have settled in quite nicely and even have my own office space with a wonderfully cheery yellow desk from West Elm and a sheepskin rug underneath which is incredibly soft and nice for digging my toes into.

I guess in all the relaxing and vacationing of the summer, spending 2 weeks mostly sitting in a car for hours on end and then stopping by one restaurant after another for each meal, I have gained weight. I don't really see it, but it's quite evident every time I try to put on a pair of jeans and they just don't quite fit. So, I stepped on the scale yesterday and indeed had my worst fears confirmed. So, the fervor of my dieting has been renewed and I am completely determined to lose at least 12 pounds by Christmas, which shouldn't be too hard if I just use these steep hills as my gym.

Speaking of the hills, I have never been more scared riding in a car while going down hill than I am here. Some roads are so steep that even as you sit on the very edge of the road before it slopes off, you cannot see the road in front of you. I just can't get used to it, it feels like you are driving off a cliff.

It's a strange feeling living here right now. Not too unlike my time in Rome. It's hard to explain, but I can already feel that, like Rome, my creativity will flourish here and I will find a new sense of artistic yearning, something that was unfortunately lost during my last year and a half a RISD. (I know how strange it sounds that I have to get out of art school to find my passion for art again, but thats just the way it goes sometimes)

Overall, everything is great, and this is just the beginning.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Life goals

learn how to drive
graduate from RISD
get my first car
join an artist residency program for a year
get a job as a designer for a while
be an RA for the EHP program
join the Peace Corps.
get my own studio to work in.
start my own design firm.
Become a Fellow of the American Academy in Rome
settle down
raise a child
buy a house
design something that makes a positive impact on the world
travel the world
make people happy
never loose sight of God
be joyful

Thursday, April 23, 2009

The Hayloft, 1968

Dust floats through the air in the quiet cool of the hayloft.
Up here we build our thrones and castles out of the golden bales.
Tucked away from the watchful eyes of mom.
Pieces of straw stick out every which way.
Poking at my skin and making it itchy.
Deb and I kick off our shoes and lift ourselves up into the rafters.
Breathing in the sweet smell of the wood and hay,
We carefully move along from one beam to the next
until we are way beyond the edge of the upper loft.
We tiptoe along a thick balance beam,
Standing in the middle, I am scared to look down.
It never seems this high up when you are standing way down there.
Deb grabs my hand tight and looks at me,
a smile creeping out the corner of her mouth.
Ready Panda?
My heart beats faster as I look away.
One. Two. Three. Jump!
I shut my eyes tight and take the leap.
Landing butt first in the large mound of loose hay below.
“Again, again!” I laugh, with straw covering my entire body
and sticking out all over my two long braids.
“Hey Debby look! Now my hair looks like yours! Haha!”
“Mleeeh” she says, as she sticks out her tongue at me.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

2 hour exercise

I walk under the bright blue sky. Sun in my eyes, cold wind in my face. In the park I spot a falcon sitting up in the trees. It’s piercing eyes staring down at me. It swoops down and makes a quick and determined course towards a large group of pigeons, who take off and try desperately to avoid his hunting path. I doubt he’s trying very hard because he doesn’t actually catch any one of the easy prey and presently lands on a tree branch on the other side of the park. Quit playing games with me falcon! You might have actually had me for a minute there but now I can see that you never really had any true intention of going for it.

As I open the door the sweet smell of coffee and sugary syrup hits my nostrils and I am instantly transfixed. I’m normally not a coffee drinker but today I could use the extra boost. “Give me something mochalaty” I say to Patrick behind the counter. “Mochalaty!?” he says in confusion. “So I’m guessing that you DO want something with coffee in it? I’m just going to go ahead and be inventive here.” Great. Patrick always seems to know how to please me. I sit down at a small table by the window as more and more people start streaming in. Strange, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place quite so busy. What exactly happens on a lazy Saturday afternoon that makes people suddenly feel the need for a coffee break? The large windows make this particular establishment quite excellent for people watching, though I could honestly do without the constant stream of mall traffic passing by. Along with the usual suspects hanging out in the corner, two rather scruffy, scrawny looking men are sitting in the high-backed wing chairs by the fireplace, warming up and trying to get comfortable, avoiding drawing too much attention to themselves and getting kicked out.

Mort Goldblum is a slinking sort of man, tall and old, looking almost fragile. His white hair travels down to around his mouth and chin, long slender arms and legs looking all too much like my own grandfather’s. He most often wears the same thing: worn blue denim jacket with a stained white shirt underneath, brown slacks frayed around the ankles, thin brown socks and faded brown loafers with a hole torn out of one of the toes. He is an obviously intelligent man, never to be seen without a book in his hand. And yet he too has somehow ended up on the streets, forced to brave the cold along with a group of mostly-crazy old men who often engage him in mostly asinine conversations about events that have never taken place and dreams that will never come true. This is his 7th year and he has miraculously managed to retain his sanity.

Ms. Danquith enters and sits down in front of me. She retired long ago but still enjoys the going down to the local Hope Street School and volunteering her time as a substitute teacher. She had taught 7th grade English for 38 years and never once forgot the names of her students. The kids she sees now really don’t appreciate her as much as she deserves, but then again what kid does appreciate women as ancient-looking as she is, perpetual grimace plastered across her face? Both children and adults also can’t help but notice that she always seems to be wearing any one of an array of strange hats. Today it is a bubble-gum pink fuzzy thing with rather large ear flaps, no doubt warm but far too bright and bubbly for the rest of her personality.

Nick Hoffledorf is a grumpy, incorrigible old homeless man whom I quickly learned about when I first started coming here. He’s rather strangely lumpy and is always seen wearing a brown leather jacket, black sweatshirt and black baseball cap with tufts of wispy white hair sticking out the sides. He comes in here every day and sits slouched way down in one of the soft leather chairs in the corner in order to stare angrily at people whom he feels are getting a better deal at life than he is, which, considering his situation, is pretty much everybody. On many occasions he has been known to try to flirt with some of the many pretty young girls who also frequent this place. Since they undoubtedly will ignore him and start talking to Patrick instead, he glares at them ever more incessantly until he can’t stand it anymore and goes to complain to the manager about how unfair it is that these girls don’t want to talk to him. Jane is a very patient woman, but sometimes his special kind of craziness is just more than she can take.

A white limo pulls up to the curb just outside, exciting a group of little girls who jump up on top of the window sill couch and press their faces up against the cold pane of glass, certain that anyone who rides in such a car must be somebody important and interesting. A bunch of bride-grooms carrying suits and a rather large, white wedding dress, ever so carefully wrapped in layers of protective tissue paper and plastic, step out and hurry on into the Biltmore next door. I guess everyone gets their special day when they get to be considered someone important and interesting by random strangers walking by. Maybe someday that will be me, but the closest thing I’ve come to an actual relationship in the past couple of years is my rather new, yet almost daily stint with Patrick, who will not only make me a mean cup of marble-mocha-frappa-macchiato-cino whenever I’m in the need, but who also does a great job of filling up the extra space on my already too-small bed on nights when the both of us should probably be getting in some much-needed sleep instead.

Maybe next time around things will be different. Maybe someday I’ll find someone who will give me the kind of emotional connection I really need, but hey, I’m still young, right?

Anyways, these 2 hours are just about up and my coffee’s getting cold. Time for a refill!

Computer-rendered watercolor