Friday, December 21, 2007

Dear me,

Do not panic.

Just because you're directing a show that goes on in 3 hours--that you are also stage managing, have costumed, and built sets for ( ohcrapihavetofixthatbackdroptoo!---and ohcrapwheredidthemicrophonegetput? and Ohcrapthepianodied!!!!!!)---doesn't mean that you get to panic.

This show requires magic.

It requires focus.

And a positive attitude.

Rally the troops, get out there, break a leg---It's gonna be FINE!

Love,

Me.



PS. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

So much to do

Trying to focus.

Not working.

Here, have a picture.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

The stupidity of the human race astounds me.

HOMEWORK: Read Biology Chapter 20--Human Reproduction

I knew i'd be sitting in a room full of idiotic 20-somethings today--I guess I just wasn't prepared for the level of ignorance.

Maybe I grew up in a open home. Maybe I understand a little bit more than the average person about human anatomy. But you'd think that some of this knowledge would have trickled down--5th grade? 4th? Anyone remember that video that started out, " There comes a time in a young girls' life, when she begins to feel strange new awakenings..."

Honestly, I truly thought that most people would have been privy to some information about their bodies.

Stupid questions of the day:

* Girl: " So my friend, was like giving birth, and like after the baby was like born, and stuff--like she had to like push out another thing like 45 minutes later. Like...what's with that?"

* Guy :" Wait! What happens if like a guy has a Hysterectomy?"
Me: ---Um, Guys can't have Hysterectomies. It's called a Vasectomy.
Guy: " So that means like the little guys aren't swiming around anymore? Like, wouldn't you just like....EXPLODE!?"
Me: Let's turn to page 206...and read the definition of semen. Do you know what your vas deferens is?

* Teacher: " Circumcision is better, for cleanliness--it's better for the child."
Me: " Actually, that's a myth. Studies suggest that the uncircumsised infant penis is easier to care for because there's no wound to clean, and therefore no complications arise."
Teacher: "Well ...uh..."


AND FINALLY---

* Girl: " I think God punishes couples who use birthcontrol. Like, if you put off having a family then God will make you wait even more. Birth Control really screws up your whole system and you'll have wait to have children. "
Me: " Alright! I think I just found a date to the heretic burning this afternoon."
Girl: "Huh?"
Me: " My God is better than your God."

--------------------------
So Maybe I was a little snippy today--but I didn't get much sleep--as I was busy watching Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix. Which--in case you were looking for an Onion review---I give it two thumbs, four stars, and no rotten tomatos.

I have to write a paper now--on my teaching philosophy. Joy! It's due at 2 PM.

I thrive under pressure.

Sunday, July 08, 2007

Midnight Musings

Somewhat of a Sonnet for Penelope
__________________________________________

I feigned madness, rather than leave your side.
The tiny child tangled his hands in my cloak
But there were wars and kings, and pride
and we were swept to sea with the battle smoke

My Faithful one, you weave the burial shroud for me
meanwhile our tree weaves it's branches upwards
through twenty tortured moons, and would I could be
turning this ship 'round and sending it bedwards

O, that the gods would finally look down
and save me from myself, my men, and dreams
of suitors that trouble thee, discover thy secrets, follow you 'round.
Athena will bear witness, I am a thread, frayed at the seams

Disguised, a beggar at your feet crouching in the gloom
I will again string the bow, and your loom.

----------------------- Kjirsten

Ten more days.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Stuff in my life right now


Here's a page I had to design for my Good Type, Bad Type presentation. It's ok.







Type poster


Current project i'm working on. Book Cover for The Master and Margarita---one of my all time favorite books.




She's who I want to be when I grow up. Lauren Ambrose, as Juliet in “Romeo and Juliet”....NYC is so cool. Maybe i'll run away and become a star!

Sunday, July 01, 2007

I should be packing, but instead....

I decided to read through old e-mails. I talked to Soren today ( now 17 years old and proud owner of a drivers' license AHHH!) I love him a lot.
****************************************************************************

"Boy? Why are you crying?"

Soren is 15 years old today! Glories and riches, how did that happen? And as much as he hates to admit it...he does look like Peter Pan in the new movie.

My dearest brother, do you remember the day we met? The day you were born? I do. I was 5 years old.

Daddy and I had gone on a walk, with Maren in her stroller, just around the block. We stopped by the red brick Army hospital ( you have a brick from your hospital sitting on your chest of drawers, it was torn down years later, but we managed to swipe a momento.) I remember pulling off some small waxy leaves from the hedge that lined the entrance walkway. I called the hedge a "George Washington Bush" Daddy thought it was funny, I never knew why until later. The scent of the leaves mixed with the smell of wet pavement, the sky was overcast and we headed home.

I'm sure I knew you were comming. Mom would have explained to me that we were going to have a new baby in the house. I was excited, it would be like having a doll to dress up--my very own baby! I don't remember Dad rushing off to the hospital, where Mom had walked after her water broke. However, I do remember Maren and I were at the neighbors house across the street. It was a long weary afternoon and soon boredom set in, I was ready to go home. The phone rang and the neighbor answered it. She told me I had a new baby brother.

"Did he cry?" I asked in a concerned voice.

" Oh no, sweetheart! He didn't cry, don't worry. It didn't hurt him."

My life was imediately shattered. You didn't cry! The baby didn't cry! "That's horrible!", I thought. Maren didn't cry, thats how Mom and Dad had explained it to me--that's how the doctors knew she was hurt. If you didn't cry that meant that you would be like Maren, that Mom and Dad would spend more sleepless nights, and be worried and sad about you too!

I flung myself onto the tan fuzzy carpet and sobbed. Tears were streaming down my face, dripping of my trembling chin.

"She's crying!---Do you want to talk to her?"

The neighbor handed me the phone, " Kjisten, honey, your baby brother is just fine. He cried. He's strong and healthy!"

Suddenly all was well. I decided to draw you a picture to see when you came home from the hospital. Its in your baby book now. I printed my "most fancy writing" just for you.

A few days later, Daddy took me to see you. I remember we used the back entrance. My wet shoes squeaked on the big, polished, lima bean colored tiles. We walked into your room, Mom was sitting in the corner, underneath the window holding you, in a white blanket. I inched forward, in total awe of the scene. Grey---Seattle grey, light poured listlessly into the room, illuminating Mom's hair so that it glowed like a halo. A sort of, Madonna and child portrait displayed before my small frame. I stood by your side, and looked down at your feet, which were purple! Mom said that would go away soon. Your scrunched baby face and tiny hands were adorable to behold. I fell inlove with you immediately!

Oh, of course, a few years later, Mom had to remind me that I did indeed love you. Especially when you messed with my things, got into my room, tagged along with me where ever I went. But we had some good times, my impish brother. We would play "Army" and "Lost orphan children" in the woods behind our house. Picking blackberries in the huge briar along the lake...trying so desperately to spot a real fairy that might be lurking there. Countless stories and secret codes, our own special fortress among the three cedar trees.

Now, at the end of August we climb up in the old oak treehouse, in the woods bordering the blueberry patch, and strawberry rows. If we are lucky...We can glimpse the fireflies danceing along the edge of the feilds. We lay our sleeping bags down and listen to the faries pelt acorns at us. You'll talk to me of growing up, and fears concerning the future.

Years have passed so fast....I can't hardly believe that the small boy I knew, running around with me in red rainboots and "magic" popgun tied to his belt is now a freshman in highschool.

You are my one and only. My sweetest, most clever, imaginative, mercifull, fun-loving, talented, amazing, bright, stubborn, crazy, funny, entertaining, intelligent, awesome, brother. I shall love you for forever and a day.

Happy Birthday Soren, don't ever grow up.

Much love from your crazy sister,

****************************************
17 long days until I see him again.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Why am I here in Idaho?

It's a very warm and sticky night---no stars out yet here in the desert.

****************************************************************

I try to imagine myself on a sloop bending around the harbor. The smell of the ocean and the sound of the boat and the bubbles from the fish asleep below all tumble into a low roar. I sail up next to the dock and tie her up. She creaks her farewell--and the boom sways in the breeze.

Somewhere up the road is a moonlit garden that grows the tomatoes that I'll squash into our winters' supply.

Inside the canning jars are boiling away on the old stove late into the night. My tired arms are aching from turning the crank. The steam keeps billowing up against the windows making ghostly clouds.

Open the kitchen door and escape into the night--- come with me!

High above the shady oaks. Fly over the osprey nest and over the prickly pines. Find yourself in the cool of the starry sky--hang suspended in that moment--while the sky and the earth do a delicate dance. Dip down into the rushes by the pond. Salutations to the crane standing in the shallows. You can get your feet wet too.

The peepers are singing soprano and the crickets answer with a tenor line. The wind brings percussion from the aspens and the reeds surrounding the bank. The mud surrounds your tired feet with a smelly embrace.

Everything is shades of dark blue.

Run up the road again....brush off your feet on the deck and grab the hose. Drip dry.

Head off to the bathroom to put calamine lotion on your bug bites--careful not to smudge your pink dots you climb the steep stairs.

Time for bed.

Goodnight Maine Moon.

****************************************************************

I had a good talk with mom today. I miss home.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

More books


Piano hinge book--where I plan to put my haikus.

Chocolate brown and robins' egg blue

Italian ribbon--dollar a yard--and totally worth it.

Marbled paper.

Letter press run. My first!

Some books on my bed.

My desk currently

Tunnel book--theme: Musee D'Orsay.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Legs, and architecture, and emo letter presses...


This model was elven, I swear.






This is called furniture, I'm not sure why. It makes sure the letters don't move anywhere.



Happy, happy paper drawers. I want a whole wall of paper drawers....*SWOON*



The scary letter press--with a filter.



When I grow up, I can have one of these.

Friday, June 08, 2007

Where I spend my days and nights...






So, I'm taking this book arts class. Our prof is this puttering, ex-seminary teacher, hippy-dippy woman. She's pretty fantastic. We are in the printmaking room, because the Spori building dosen't have enough room for us artsy types. ( blast them all!) My class of 25+ is crammed in to this small space, but it's all worth it when Sister Simpson reminds us that, " Mistakes are what life is all about. And just because my sons aren't married yet, doesn't make me a bad mother." Or " Hey, making books isn't a game of rugby! You have to be gentle, and play badminton."
I'm pretty sure i'd go out of my mind if I didn't have this class. It's just the right amount of silliness and skill.


Paper signatures sewn together with the tricky French stitch. Those tricky Frenchies!


This is a leather trek journal. Tangerine leather is rather lovely! This was also my first time sewing with sinew---um...gross.



The final glowing result.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Art stuff





Here are some pots I did this winter.
Ooooh! Ahhhh!
Move over Joe Bennion! (or at least let me come play in the studio some day?)

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Rainy day


So this weather is really putting a damper on my to-do list.

It's funny to read back on what I wrote when I started this thing---way back in two-thousand and *gasp* four!
The same disease has permeated my brain. 42 days, and counting.

Being pulled in two.

I have to go make a book now.

Bye.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

SHE LIVES!!!

I've decided to begin again here.
Pictures and lovelyness comming soon.