Thing-a-day.com

out traversing the streets with leslie and joren all day.

this is what i have to show for it.

In my neighborhood there is a tower used during WWII to look for enemy attacks and sound the air raid.  Now it sits there like a strange  hollow palm tree.  Like a rotten pole.

 Across the street there is a house that waves a Japanese flag proudly. 

thinking about peace. paz. here is a lil brass fish i picked up long long time ago. so i got some of those noodles (again)  from the 60s - (sand). got moonstone (clouds) and these others remind of the sea & sky and the fishy…peace peace

So, I don’t really like collaging any more.
It’s something I loved to do in highschool (with real live scissors and paper)

But… I just don’t really  like doing it anymore.
The imperfection of it is what irritates me, I guess- I can never find the images I want when I want them.
Easier to just make the images from scratch.

Anyway. One of my school assignments was to make a digital collage. So I did.
I can’t say I particularly enjoyed the process, but it wasn’t as irritating as I expected.
I do like the huge amount of flexibility there is in doing this digitally.

Not terribly satisfied with the final product, but when all’s said and done, I’m glad I did it, and I’ll probably do more like it to explore the possibilities here (which are possibly endless).

Less words more thing. Working title, “Matryoshka? Chernobyl?”:

PS: Technically I guess this counts as ”following instructions,” ”shoot it again” (since I reused someone else’s images), and … possibly ”war.”
Well, now it feels worth it ;-)

                                       decisions… decisions…

…..….

                                              Comments Always Welcomed

Crossroads Two Death (short story written, edited, within 50 min time limit)

Kneeling at the crossroads, Taachiinii clasped the turquoise stone.  He knew it was his grandmother’s.  He feared for her life.

Taachiinii picked up his pace as he returned to track the company of people and soldiers.  His heart raced, pounding loudly in his ears with each step striking the earth like a mallet beating a drum.  His emotions slashed up and down.  He worried about his family.  He hated what the soldiers did.  He seethed with anger and boiled with rage scheming with intensity for what lay ahead of him.  He wondered if he could do it.

Rising over the hill ahead of him he could see a cloud of dust drifting to the East.  The caravan is close.  He steadies his steps and glances from left to right scanning the landscape.  Where could he go to get a hidden vantage point?

He spied an outcropping with a few trees at the top of the mesa.  He could get a good look without being seen.  He crept up the slope balancing both his feet and his heart for what he would view.

Maasaani (grandma) is trying her best to stay warm and stay up with the chain gang of Indians parading between the mesas for a place outside their homelands.  This was not the first time Maasaanii ventured outside the four sacred mountains.  She escaped with her parents once before when the Mexican and White settlers attacked her clan.  “War is horrible,” she posed.  But retaliation was more cruel.  She recalls the ghastily corpses that she step around when the clan reacted with vengeance on the first attack.  She could hardly keep the memory from stanching up her mind.  The grotesque poses of the cadavers.  She can still smell the odor of death.  She would have lingered over the dead but she hit her toes on rocks under the snow.  Her feet were cold. Her toes are numb.  But she can’t stop.  She doesn’t want to be left behind like the others who may not make it through the night.  That’s when she noticed the stone was missing.  Where did it fall?  She checked her clothing.  She padded her hair.  It was gone. 

 Taachiinii held his breath as he carefully moved up to the trees.  He took shallow breaths as he stole into the group of cedar trees.  He moved slowly to remain undetected.  He was afraid that the soldiers would see his breath.  So he tried to move in slow motion to take a scan of the troops and his clan.  He clutched the turquoise stone with all his might hoping to conjure magical powers to be invisible while he stole a glance.

Masaani  knew there was something happening. Which way are they going.  The soldiers were pointing in different directions.  “That’s good.”  “I can catch my breath.”  She hoped it would take more than a few minutes.  Then she saw her chance.

She squinted to see in the shadows a crevice where a person could hide.  You’d have to push way back in.  But you could hide.  She glanced around.  The soldiers were still undecided.  She wondered if she should take the risk.

Taachiinii squinted to try to telescope a better look at the group milling around.  He could make out those of his clan.  There were many others.  Yet he couldn’t see his Masaani.  He took a slow breath in.  He wondered if he should take the risk and go in and try to get her.  

Both stood at the crossroads of war.

OK, so maybe I’m a bit obsessed with fungi, but today, I was riding on the Burke-Gilman bike trail; I was feeling the cold more than usual, due, no doubt, to my 2 months of acclimatization to the tropics. My mind was drifting to spring, and spring means morels. So I was riding along, resolving that I would collect bucket-loads of that beautiful fungus when they make their grand appearance in a few months, when I suddenly felt some sort of fungus sensation on the side of the trail. I don’t know if it was a smell or just a deep vibe coming from our shared ancestry. In any event, I was impelled to stop and search, and sure enough, despite the temperature in the 30s, I found my cousin, pictured below. The cool synchronicity is that this is a false morel, wicked shrooms which are generally considered unsafe to eat due to insufficient info regarding their toxicity (I ate a little tiny bit of one once - sauteed in olive oil with garlic - tasted quite good - but, it totally depends on the species, and in any case, I wouldn’t recommend eating a lot). I’m guessing that the one I found today is an “elfin saddle” (love that common name) in the genus Helvella, but there are also members of the genus Gyromitra that look like this too. I consider this find a most excellent omen; my version of Groundhog Day. I didn’t pick it for definitive ID, cuz it was the only individual I saw there, but if I see more, I will report my findings here.

Pick mushrooms,not fights!

I am new at this, and so I think I saved yesterday’s post instead of posting it so a day late, here is day 1’s post!

Day 1, 11:10 PM: Can you tell that I am a horrible procrastinator?

Sharpie pen on canvas… yeah i dono what i was thinking

hopefully the next ones will be better!

Sometimes life gets hectic. You just got to breathe and think of a word that will calm you down. For me that word is “peace”. For this second day of Thing-a-day I worked with my mantra because I was getting a bit edgy about what life may or may not have in store for me. Watercolor, paper, and ink… such fun mediums. Drawing the side doodles I was thinking of all the mingled thoughts and unknows and the power peace is making things clear, like a sky for birds to fly.  xoxo Becca 

Beautiful code.

Had to blur it because I’m not allowed to share source at this time, but I’m proud to be writing code that is “good” and promotes democracy, specifically transparency within democracy. Using our tools for reason and logic, we can prevent extremism, and hold nation-states accountable for acts of war.

Python is beautiful. jEdit has such a nice palette.