Grab bag
April 16, 2012
Meltdown Sunday morning, but it took a single laugh to displace me into a Zen-like calm.
Or possibly my brain exploded, and this is all that’s left. I’m up for either one.
Ave
October 5, 2011
Keryn Whitney and glass inspiration
August 11, 2011
Got the sweetest email the other day, right on the heels of my, er, terms & conditions for the use of this blog. Don’t know if one had anything to do with the other, but it sure tickled me to read this:
Hi Cynthia
I just wanted to send you a quick thanks for imparting your wonderful
knowledge on the use of super glue with fusing. I had been working on a
design in my head for a while and just couldn’t work out how to translate it
into actual glass. I was able to take your tips and twist them a bit to suit
my needs. I have taken the liberty of attaching a couple of photos of the
end result. I submitted it to the “Ranamok” glass competition in Australia
and was selected. And while I don’t expect to win anything, there is
certainly no other glass quite like mine. The piece entitled “destruct ;
construct” was made using blown shards, that were lampworked, introducing a
secondary colour to them, and then kiln fused (using the super glue to
construct and hold in place before going into the kiln). While I’m not
completely happy with it - I think the piece is a good starting point for
further development of the idea.(some stuff deleted for brevity’s sake)
Once again thank you so much for your generous advice and please keep up the
great work with your blog – it’s one of the highlights of my day.
Cheers & regards
keryn
Cool, eh? And yup, she’s definitely a 2011 Ranamok finalist–go see who she’s competing against. Here’s what she submitted:
So how cool is that? (and yes, I did ask Keryn for permission to publish this and she said yes) Here’s a detail:
Complicated process; I can see how the superglue would help. And her idea (correction: her BRILLIANT idea) has now given me more ideas. I’m thinking about how to use superglue to solve a float glass casting problem I’m muddling through in my head. I’ll test it this weekend, and then we’ll see.
But isn’t that what artists sharing is really all about? IOW:
- You pass a technique to me, through a class, lecture, demonstration, exhibit, etc. I’m inspired all to heck.
- I play with your technique, put my own twists on it, and come up with something different. Then I blog about it, demonstrate it, write about it online somewhere.
- Somebody else sees it, adds THEIR brainview and sooner or later shows me the result…
- …and I get all inspired to heck. Again.
The sharing/brainstorming/collaborating/stealing with pride/whatever has just enabled me to do something better than I’d probably make on my own. Or as Keryn says:
I figure any “glassie” worth their salt will work out how I did it anyway – perhaps not the superglue trick (unless you’re a “fuser”) but what the hay – that’s how we all learn, when one person has an idea and they freely pass it into other people.
Anyway, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for Keryn with the Ranamok. And thanks, Keryn!
Foster a kittycat, please?
July 15, 2011
Hey, folks;
I’m interrupting my usual blather to put out the word: If your resources, patience and time don’t extend to ADOPTING a rescue pet, did you ever think about fostering one?
I’ve fostered kitties before (remember Ernie?) and I’m getting ready to do it again. It’s kinda like having houseguests with fur (except that most houseguests don’t climb into bed with you at night, or at least they don’t at MY house).
Unrapturously yours
May 23, 2011
Woke up Sunday morning and realized I’m still here. Now what?
Apparently I didn’t get raptured, or whatever the term is, on Harold Camping’s Judgment Day, May 21, 2011. IOW, I wasn’t one of the 200 million pious folk instantly translated to heaven.
Or if I was, heaven is so much like my former life that I’m having trouble telling the difference. Food for thought.
For argument’s sake, however, let’s assume that I’m not writing this blogpost from heaven. That means one of two things:
- I’m in for a hell of a ride (excuse the expression) until I reach my final destination on October 21, when a fireball evaporates Earth.
- Harold Camping was wrong. Again.
There’s been a lot of jokes and speculation about the folks who bought the whole Camping apocalypse thing. These guys quit their jobs, left their families, sold their houses, spent every penny on Judgment Day advertising, and confidently waited for the end.
Now, I can see where folks might desperately want to put a stop to life as we know it. Think about it: What if you’d never really gotten where you wanted to go, if the bills were piling up, if nobody knew your name, if you were always at the back of the line, if your life was simply a neverending treadmill to mediocrity …and then one day someone offered to take you back behind the velvet ropes to the next life. Would you go for it?
Wouldn’t that sound good to you, especially if those ahead of you in line weren’t invited?
Remember, the second half of doomsday prophecies isn’t, “…and WE are all gonna die and go to hell.” It’s “…and YOU are all gonna die and go to hell.”
Camp’s followers aren’t passively suiciding, they’re cutting in line. They believe there are only 200 million seats on that train bound for glory, and by damn they’re gonna be in first class, short-circuit the Ten Commandments and all that other nonsense and go straight to heaven.
The rest of us chumps simply have to hope we were good enough to sneak a ride in the baggage car six months from now. Not the most “Christian” of strategies, but hey–we’re talking eternity, not just a seat on the crosstown bus, right?
Right. And now, on Sunday, Mr. Camping’s website still proclaims that, as of yesterday, the world has 00 days left to live, and Mr. Camping is nowhere to be found.
Uhm, guys? Maybe he went on without you.
The eagle has landed
March 29, 2011
Gee, when they said you should wear a lot of sunscreen to protect against harmful rays, I didn’t think they meant FISH…
Just saw a report about a lady in Florida who was flattened–literally–by a 200-pound eagle ray. (video below) She was out on a boat when a bunch of eagle rays started leaping out of the water all around them. One missed and landed right on top of her.
Rays do that sometimes; big black bat-like critters burst from the water, fly across a few waves, maybe do some aerobatics, then dive back in. Sealife folk suggest they’re doing it to rid themselves of parasites, or maybe as a mating display. Or maybe just for the helluvit.
Anyway, the first time you see it, it’s a jaw-dropping experience. But eagle rays are these gorgeous, gentle creatures covered with leopard spots, and they’re BIG…maybe 5-10 feet across. I’ve only seen one underwater during a scuba trip, and it was a humbling experience. To see one parasailing over the ocean would be life-changing.
Suddenly wearing 200 pounds of anything moving at 20 or 30 miles an hour isn’t a good idea.
In this lady’s case, she was mostly scared. The eagle just wanted back in the water, and she, her family and the coast guard were only to happy to oblige it.
But I’ll bet she takes those sunscreen warnings more seriously from now on. 
Next Halloween I’m going as a bigot…
November 5, 2010
So just in case my other Halloween story didn’t work for you, here’s one Halloween story that’s really scary.
Woman’s 5-year old boy decides he wants to go as Daphne (of Scooby Doo fame) for Halloween. Mom thinks it’s a charming idea, buys the costume. After awhile, little boy has second thoughts because of what people might say.
Turns out he was right, but the people on his case weren’t kids. The kids’ MOTHERS were outraged that kid was obviously gay and flaunting it, and that Mom had encouraged this behavior.
Well, after all, the world must be protected from cross-dressing pre-kindergartners, right? (and if you think for a moment that I’m NOT being sarcastic, think again)
Oh, my people.
—————–
*For the record, wearing a dick and a dress is not the exclusive province of the gay community. I have several friends who cross-dress (both genders, although nobody really notices female cross-dressing, as this article points out). Some are straight, some aren’t. And unless you’re in their bed(s), what the heck does it matter?
He’s a little boy. It’s dress-up day. Get a grip, ladies.
Handwove
September 25, 2010
Fifteen years after Laurie Herrick died, a bunch of artists are going to try to take up where she left off.
Laurie Herrick was a handweaver who stuck to the traditional loom-and-fabric path even when it was no longer fashionable, becoming one of the finest handweavers of her generation. She made geometric pieces that became part of the op art movement, wove tapestries with landscapes that incorporated wood and whatever else she could find. [Read more]
And that’s the way it is in glassland…
August 6, 2010
Gotta love local news. Skimming the local TV/newspaper sites yesterday morning, I came up with these gems.
Health inspectors shut down a little girl’s lemonade stand. Apparently she didn’t have the right permit at the Last Thursday art fair on Alberta Street. Getting one would cost $120, and at 50 cents a glass that’s a LOT of lemonade going for taxes. (Now, to be fair to tax inspectors, the little girl wasn’t selling lemonade in her front yard–the art fair’s in a different neighborhood and her mom drove her over, so she actually WAS setting up as a vendor…)
It’s not funny, but…a woman assaulted a man with a vacuum cleaner and he’s in the hospital in critical condition. This is making news all over the place but what’s getting me are the comments, including the classic “I’ll bet his last words before the attack were, ‘honey, you missed a spot…’”
The mysterious crosswalk painter strikes again. Last time it was Burnside and NE 8th. This time it’s SE 10th and Ash–somebody paints crude a crosswalk diagonally, corner to corner, across a busy intersection of Portland. This one’s complete with little white footprints illustrating its use.
The Nike groper continues his quest for booty. If you’ve been on the Nike campus, you’ve probably noticed a tall, tree-lined berm surrounding the buildings. There’s a track on top, and running trails inside the campus, and they usually allow the public in to use them. Apparently a hooded guy on a bicycle also comes in to exercise…his hands. He’s slapping women’s posteriors as they run by. They’re annoyed, the cops are frustrated, but he just keeps coming out of the woodwork for fundament swatting.
Ginormous bronze bells for sale. Never used. Cheap. Tualatin (a PDX bedroom community) built a lovely open-air park with shops, offices, etc. Just about everybody–restaurants, shops, businesses–showed up except customers. Town fathers decided the place needed to call attention to itself with a $1M bell tower, complete with chiming bells to attract the masses.
They excitedly ordered plans, ordered bells…and forgot to order the money. So a decade later the bells are still waiting to be installed. If you need a really big dinner bell I know some people you can talk to.
Portland got its first electric car charging station yesterday, with the governor himself unveiling it in a downtown office building. The stand can charge a car with a Li-Ion battery to about 80 percent in 20-30 minutes and there’s no charge to juice up.
Of course, there’s only one plug, which means that if this thing’s in operation around the clock (and it takes no time at all to hook up or disconnect), it can service a maximum of 48 cars in a 24-hour period (assuming the parking garage is open 24 hours per day and in PDX that’s a BIG assumption). On the other hand, given the number of Li-Ion cars in Portland right now, there won’t be much of a wait for juice.
Keep them cards & letters a-comin’…
May 21, 2010
Sometimes I think I’m becoming a dear abby for glassists, and I gotta admit, I like it.
When I started this blog I kinda figured that 99% of people who wanted to comment would use the comments box at the end of each post. Turns out that I was less than half-right: For every comment that shows up on a post, I’ll get one or two private messages using the Contact me link.* I think I’m up to about 10-12 emails per week.