Saturday

It is a stupifyingly gorgeous day out.

I miss the girls dreadfully.

Am v. tempted to blow off karate.

Rob has to work all day today and tomorrow, dammit.

I wish I had enough money to go out and do something fun. I dunno what. Something.

The Powderhorn Art Fair

Thanks to davidschroth (seconded by naomikritzer) who offered the sensible suggestion that a good thing to do today (especially for someone with about zero money in the pocket) would be to go to one of the local art festivals. I chose the Powderhorn Art Fair, and it was a very good thing indeed. I have always loved this fair and go to it usually every year, but I enjoyed it even more than usual, since I did not have kids or husband in tow. Rob can take it or leave it when it comes to art fairs. The girls will enjoy them, sort of, but only for about a half an hour or so, at which point they start whining for popcorn, or that their feet hurt and they are bored and want to go home. This year I had the luxury of lingering at each booth as long as I liked.

I saw skylarker's table and stopped to chat with her and admire her bookmarks for sale. I looked for elisem, too, but apparently she didn't have a table this year.

I liked the fair very much; I was in the perfect mood for it. It felt like a Julie Cameron artist date, a very successful one. I was struck very much by color: so many booths had pieces with riotous hues, and something inside responded particularly enthusiastically as if my soul had been starving for it: oh yes color color color give me more. Oddly enough, if there was motif that I saw the most, it was fish. Wildly colored fish, dull drab fish in earth pottery hues. Fish wall hangings, fish ornaments, fish jewelry. Fish everywhere, eyeing me surreptitiously, flicking their fins impudently and mutely asking me, why aren't you writing that book?

I wanted a fan-carved swan by this artist, and I would liked to have gotten one of his fan-carved phoenixes for kijjohnson, but he is almost a year behind on taking commissions, so I didn't really have to wrestle with my conscience about violating my budget.

I responded especially strongly to two different pieces, which were essentially making the same point in two different ways.

One was by this artist. It was titled "Phases" and was very similar to this piece, except that instead of holding a moon in the hands, the figure's hands were empty, and there was an arch over her head, showing seven representations of the moon, from new through full through a waning sliver. A beautiful blue glass art bead glowed at the doll's heart. I stared at it for a long time, thinking, that's me, with the moon at full, representing motherhood. I thought of what some of you have said in answer to some of my recent identity posts, that perhaps the art cannot come easily right now, but that does not mean it will always be that way. A new phase will come when my children are grown, and I will be able to turn my attention back to writing again. And yet the figure was serene at each and every phase. Tears suddenly sprang to my eyes. I asked for and received permission to sketch the little figure, and I took the small piece of paper and carefully put it into my pocket.

The other piece was by this artist. Here are some of her pieces, and here is the one which struck me the most, and which seemed akin to Phases: Changing Woman. Written on the little card attached the doll were these words: "In order to grow you must risk stepping outside of your comfort zone. That is what takes the most courage."

Yes.

(I would have loved to have gotten either one of these pieces to put into my office. Alas, no, 'twas not possible. *Sigh* Why can't I be attracted to art I can afford?)

I'm waiting for Rob to get home now. Hopefully, we can think of something to do that involves getting out of the house without spending any money.

Pre-history of blogging

Here's an article which explores the precursors of blogging: perhaps it's not quite as new a phenomenon as we think.

Good news and bad news

Rob was supposed to work only until 7:00, but I just got a call from him, with the bad news he's been held up closing on a sale. No date tonight. *Sulks*

Good news. He told me the tech department got a look at the computer which he brought in.

Bad news. Hard drive failure. This very expensive computer is three six fricking months old.

Good news. It is under warranty. All the data is there, and they have backed it up.

Bad news. The price for data back up in situations like these is $100.

Good news. They are foregoing the fee this time.

Bad news. They cannot order parts until Monday, and it will take several days to get them in and installed. Best guess: I'll be without my main computer (and that means I'll be without e-mail) for a week.

Good news. The data is all there. Thank heavens for merciful blessings.

Still. Irked. I was supposed to be past computer problems now.

*Goes to drown sorrows in ice cream. With hot fudge sauce, dammit.

Alone.