True Story

Nothing is quite so scrumptious as a homemade quilt out of the dryer for the first time. Seeing all those perfect, final wrinkles. Now, if only I could take a decent photo that is etsy worthy. By the way, this fabric is all from my ten year old stash. My goal is to quilt until its all gone. I have about 5 quilts in progress, and I should only need to buy more batting.

Stash Progress

If I wait until everything is perfect I'll never......post pictures.

The house quilt now has binding on, just a bit more hand sewing to do. The one on the wall, I hope will be queen size and on my bed.

Those flowers are fun to make, and I love my scraps.

Hal to Yo I've never made it all the way through 2001 Space Odyssey, but the part I fall asleep to is Hal. I dream of empty landscapes that no feet have ever touched. Far across the sand and sky, there is a blip of hope, of human connection. Recently, I painted in the Nevada desert, and became attached to power lines. Among all the multicolored rocks, scraggly trees, and blinding reds, these manmade poles comforted me like my favorite fuzzy blanket. Is this unhealthy? Perhaps disrespectful to the landscape? Am I overthinking my source of beauty and comfort? Probably. Overthinking is me.

This blog has become a very fancy bookmark list. Well, actually I think I've seen fancier.

Nutshell

Here I sit, wondering what happened to my words.

"I don't feel drunk..."

Stepped off at the dissociation station. Last train to me leaves at a quarter to yesterday.

Sapphire Bullets

~ Dear Mauve, your blog bites.

! Relevant comments?!? Shuffled dusty amongst the the spam.

@ Hazel, your writing speaks back to mine, even though it took me so long to read.

# How is Mauve even found here? Y'all next page it up or something?

$ Some asked about the bench. Zee bench was not for me. However, I know the dude they chose, and he and his art rock it.

% Yes, I'm a spaz because They Might Be Giants, and what are we going to do unless they are?

^ Are you singing yet?

& My favorite part of comments is following them to your blogs.

* Attention span waning, fridge humming.

( I miss crickets but not hot oven cowbreath air.

) Green breeze over my fleece blanket.

- Curl up Chucky and good night.

~ Sincerely, what the hell is wrong with you, Jones.

Web of Dreads

Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.

Day 14 letter edit: ps, if you find my blog, please just ignore it. Right, like I'd do that if I were you.

Post: Secret web of aliases, need industrial grade detangler. Just shave it off and make a wig for when you want to hide. I, not you.

Backdrop: Somewhere between the occasional poor choice of partner and Day 14, Patty Purviss was born. Then she got paranoid, and bore Pearly Blythe. Poor Pearly never really fit in and is still searching for her limelight. Like the retarded unicorn in the back of the barn, it might just be time to let her go.

Present day wish: I want to pedal my art, you see. Not sculpt it into a bicycle, though that could be awesomely amazing, but you know, like use it to make that stuff that buys you other stuff. More art supplies comes to mind.

Dilemma #1: Whose art is this? Whose website will show whose art? How do I get my name out there without getting my name out there?

Dilemma #2: This is where it gets fuzzy. I've had this blog for 3 years, and not sure I can change the user name or want to abandon it. I printed business cards locally for my art, and put my primary contact email and my real name. Christina Something-Infamous. Didn't think it through and also have the same email here and ok, I'll just say it, farcebook. All three have different names though.

Breach! If you have a biz card, you can search for my email, and find everything!!! Shit. But, I have forgotten my gmail and hotmail alias emails, and honestly, (ha), I am tiring of all this subterfuge.

Leading me to...... not sure. Changing farcebook and this to my real name? Hmm. Maybe the simplest is just to let it happen naturally. Make a website for art with my real name, and let whoever wants to find me do so if they really want to.

Not sure yet.

Signing off and going to work. I wonder what patty does all day when I'm gone.

sit on it

I'm entering a contest. I want to paint a bench downtown in my town. These are the drawings I shall send in. Tomorrow. In the mail. If you know me, you know, that is the catch. Can I do it? Can I actually get all the crap collated! in an envelope, addressed, stamped, and.......mailed???? Shit.

I think so.

Viewing question

Is the white font on black background hard for anyone else to read? I sure can't read it without seeing levelor blinds everywhere when I look away, and I have a hard time with other blogs in this format. But, it looks so snazzy. Thoughts? Cares?

Seems like I should throw something else in this post, eh?

ok

Bears eat oats, and does eat oats, and little lambs eat ivy.

Day 14 Save the Drama for Your Mama

Dear R,

You infiltrate most of my days, and I consider this a huge improvement. Why must you be so crazy? Or, rather, why must your crazy be so consistently hostile? Don't you know Crazy is supposed to go up and down? Where are my ups??

Day 1, I hate your crazy. Like an invisible electric fence, laid in frantic zig zags. You call to me in baby voice sing song, electric jolts still surprise me.

Day 2, my space, my fence, no more collar. I love each year, each holiday, each person in my life more now that I don't hear your voice. I love that I found a compromise that keeps you away from me, and eases my guilt. Writing letters, yes still for now, phone calls, no.

Day 3, Your voice sends me into a small ball, trapped way up high in that spider web. I get stuck there sometimes. It's hard to forgive myself for not being stronger than your voice.

Day 4, Frankly, I've been forgiving you since I could speak, and it's getting old.

Day 5, Someday, mail and packages won't give me a panic attack.

Day 6, I don't want to attend your mother's funeral with you. I am pretty sure I don't have to. Man, I must look like a bitch right now. Too bad I don't care.

Day 7 and Day 8, welcome to Libra Land. Enough said.

Day 9, I can not think of a single thing I haven't tried, sometimes, you just have to let go.

Day 25, Because I'm adaptable, and great at ducking projectiles.

Day 26, Never, I am really stubborn. This life is mine Motherfuckers, and you'll take it over my dead body. Plus, I am a great self-entertainer.

Day today, Something positive that we share. Thank you for being a dog person and introducing me to the Greatful Dead. I love whoever you are within all that nastiness.

Love, your daughter, Patty, Pearly, XT


Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?