23 August 2011


Listening to:
Pandora: The Police. The Cars, Talking Heads, Rick Springfield, Cyndi Lauper, Dire Straits, all good sounds coming out of these sub-par computer speakers. (note to self: purchase some inexpensive exterior speakers...it's an easy fix, girlie.)

India ink. Reminds me of college because of A) similarly sour, skunky old carpet in the dorm where I held a job as an RA and B) because we used India ink and nib pens from the corner art supply store as we drew, until we were numb and cross-eyed, seemingly hundreds of copies of logo designs and distillations of letterforms on what became heaps of tracing paper. Apologies for that run-on sentence.

Ticonderoga "Laddie" Tri-write pencils. If you want to return to your youth, write with one of these. They boast slightly thicker, gently three-sided barrels, soft, rich lead, and a proportionately larger, broader eraser. I don't think I'll ever go back to grown-up pencils.

Still thinking about:
Porcelain cups of tea daintily held by lithe fingers, silky, moon-white skin, tiny waists and flowing skirts, dashing, stand-up collars and healthy sideburns, handsomely crafted and quietly thrilling groupings of words. Or in just two, much clearer words....Jane Eyre. Um, whew. If a man ever looked through me with eyes that shade of blue and said to me, "You transfix me, quite..." well, I can't be held responsible for what might happen.

Annoyed by:
Crabtree & Evelyn. Dammit, why can't they just leave a good thing well enough alone?! Namely, my signature scent, Lily of the Valley. They've gone and altered the formula, adding a sweeter tone and a touch of just plain, boring normalcy. All that and they have shortened it to just "Lily." Before, I smelled like I had just run through a field of the delicate, fresh white blossoms and now....I just don't. Sigh.

A little too proud of:

The product of four hours of grueling scraping, scrubbing, sweating. Elbow grease has a whole new meaning, and my art tables have a shiny-clean new lease on life.

But reeeeeally proud of:
My dear Matty (friend/peer/co-mischief-maker since fifth grade and current housemate, for those of you who have no idea who he is). His dream of a theatre company is slowly -- but also relatively quickly -- sprouting those beautifully marked, color-filled wings and forcing its way out of the dreamy, cocoon state. Studio Tenn is now a full-fledged professional business. And their business is kicking some thespian ass. Just went to see the first show of their season, Guys and Dolls, on Sunday afternoon and had my socks very nearly knocked off. The sense of pure performing joy and true camaraderie is unmistakable when watching this cast pull off a monster of a show in a fresh, cutting edge, jazzed-up fashion. Sorry to tell you all of this when the show is all but sold out....
Stay tuned for more from Nashville's newest creative powerhouse production team. Big things are happ'nin.