I finished my K book for the A to Z list a few days ago. It was a long time coming. I think I started it a few months ago. I could say that with summer school and my sister being here, I just wasn't finding the time...but I'll be truthful. I just couldn't get into it.
I've had a lot of friends and respectable people recommend his work to me. I started The Unbearable Lightness of Being a few years back, but never could get more than a few pages into it. After perusing the K section, I thought he would be a good choice. I picked up The Book of Laughter and Forgetting.
From the get go, I pretty much knew I wouldn't like it. In my opinion, he shouldn't have written a book, but an essay or series of essays. I got the sense that I was being preached to, or even looked down on as if I wasn't good enough.
I will say that I gave the book a good hard chance. I read the whole thing through and tried to take what I could from it, but in the end, I felt unappreciated as a reader. I got the very strong sense that Kundera, or the voice he was writing through, was very pretentious.
I distinctly remember a portion where he discusses how a spoken word can be emphasized. Here's a very short excerpt:
He said the word "subtle" as if it were in italics. Yes, some words are not like others; they have a special meaning known only to initiates.
I don't know about you, but I know what emphasizing a word means and I know that when it's in italics, it's being emphasized. I also know it can create special meaning for said word. This whole little section sort of sums up how I feel about the book.
It felt a bit preachy, had a holier-than-thou type of feel. I just wasn't, and couldn't get, into it. Maybe in a few years, at a different point in my life I'll like it more, but I'm pretty iffy about that.
We’re walking down the aisles, lit up bright with rows of beaming bars of light. The reds seem more vibrant, the blues livelier, the yellow casts off rays like the sun. You’re wearing that vest, the one they make you wear. I think it looks good on you, it fits. You think it’s a burden.
We’re in your store. Or at least the one you work in. It’s all aisles, up and down. It’s all colors and boxes, and bottles of hairspray and tins of crackers. It could be any store. I could be anywhere. But I’m walking down this aisle, number 4, with you wearing your smart vest. Even with you here, we could be anywhere.
We pass kitty litter, with pictures of cats looking pleasant as they tiptoe from a box, leaving behind waves of clean scent behind their dirtied tails. We pass the dog toys, the training treats. We are talking about something inconsequential. I can’t recall it now.
It was then, in front of the dog doo pick up bags that you stopped and said, oh I meant to give this to you.
Out of your vest pocket, you plucked a shiny something and handed it to me. It’s a button. The kind you fasten to your coat pocket or lapel. Homer Simpson smiles up at me, his round butt covered in blue jeans just stuck on a pin, smiling.
I look up at you in your vest and I’m smiling a big thank you. I put that pin on right there and then, right on the lapel of my grey blazer. Homer Simpson, fake though he may be, is a good man. I sense spiffy good luck in the near future.
You like that I’m happy. You grin with broad white teeth. Overhead, white circles garble your name. You say you’ve got to actually work now. You’re putting that vest to use, though the vest does nothing but make you feel silly. I still think it looks good.
I follow you to the end of the aisle and around the bend I’m hearing disgruntled muttering. Your hand draws back across my body. Be careful, you whisper, stand back. She’s been here before. You’re tense as you lean back whispering, watch out she’s got a strong left arm.
The shiny soles of your heels turn around the aisle end. I follow, gingerly, listening for danger. The dry lifeless cackle of an old woman hits my ears. Before I see her, I can tell she’s armed. She sounds wheezy, tired, as if the fight’s been fought. Between bursts of exclamations, her throaty breath heaves as if she is lunging or thrusting.
Things sound bad. I’m afraid to see what it looks like.
Her hair is white oblivion. It is cumulus clouds. It floats gently above her flashy head, swaying with the winds of her thrusting, her lunging.
The thin lithe of a fishing pole’s hook and sinker come whipping through the air. Her hands, though brittle, made quick work of it. She lumbers close and her breathy rasp screeches maniacally and I’m frozen quick, lost in her white oblivion.
The fishing pole whips at me and I know, surely, I must be dead. There is no movement quick enough to escape her pole, her horrid breathing. I can see the end of the fishing pole, the glint of the hook, but I don’t even put up a hand. I just grimace and wait for the sharp stab of death.
Seconds pass. A sharp plink and just barely your voice reaches my ears. You’re saying something and I’m desperate to hear it. You’re grabbing my arm and I am sluggish. I say, I’m dying, just leave me.
Slowly the sound comes back, my breath comes back. I look down and Homer Simpson is smiling up at me, a fish hook stuck right in his happy grin.
I think I hear you calling me an idiot.
I think Homer Simpson just saved my life. I’m smiling like an idiot.
A friend of mine celebrated her birthday recently and in an effort to get/create something for her that I could spend minimal monies on, I decided to take an existing shirt and create an applique on another. As a kid she liked Pokemon, so to keep her youthful memories alive (though admittedly, neither of us is very old) I took an old Pokemon shirt, cut out the main picture and stitched it onto a new one.
Simple process, but it was cheap and easy and something homemade is always nice!
You can't see the shirt, but it's a normal black shirt from Forever 21 (only an easy $3.50!).
Here's a little detail on the stitching. Just a basic stitch.
And since the applique was fairly simple and even impersonal, I decided to stitch on a little heart to the back of the shirt. It's placed on the bottom left hand side and I meant it to be a sort of secret. I attempted to attach a little A in the middle (her name starts with an A), but ran out of time.
Overall, I'm happy with the turn out, though I believe next time I'll work on something more hand made and less of an applique.
This past Saturday I baked some goodies for a bake sale/art show called Sweets for the Sweet. It was put on by Red Hands Media in order to raise money for a future large art installation in Long Beach.
My friend Genesis invited me to partake, so I spent Saturday afternoon mixing, kneading, and rolling out some lollipop pies. I didn't get a chance to take any pictures of the process (there was a whole lot more going on that day aside from the baked goods), but here's a picture of the end result:
It's a tad hard to see, but they are shaped like hearts. The filling is blueberry. I planned on making cupcakes as well. Actually, I MADE them, but didn't have time to decorate them. Just as well, anyway, since some adorable little girls contributed a ton of cute ones! Yep, that's a "spaghetti and meatball" you're seeing.
A couple of artists from the Red Hands Media group also created work specifically for this show. This is Cyndee's and one of my faves. They are fruit bats! I love the colors and how she displayed them.
Also, Art (the creator of Red Hands Media) and his lady-friend, Genesis, collaborated on a piece:
I have a lot of talented friends and I'm happy they can display and sell their artwork in such a great community environment. Hopefully I'll be able to continue to help them.
A good friend of mine invited me recently to partake in a bake sale/art show this Saturday. Here's the flier:
Since I was just asked a few days ago, I haven't the time (what with summer school 4 days) to craft or create anything sweets-related. No moneys either! I'm spending a few bucks on ingredients to make some (hopefully) sweet cupcakes. Come see me and support art! A portion of the proceeds will go to the Red Hands Media group and the rest will go to a starving artist (me, hahaha).
I've been lying low recently and not doing much but riding bikes, swimming, and eating. Ha.
I haven't much moneys right now, so I haven't done anything artsy. But a friend of mine celebrated her birthday by throwing a zombie themed party. In honor of her awesome ways, I made her a zombie unicorn pinata. I didn't make the actual pinata (toooo lazy to go through that), but I bought a horse from a party store and transformed it.
The unicorn part was easy. Last year, my best bud Gaby and I made a unicorn pinata (for this same friend. What? She likes unicorns!) and it was so simple. Just a horn, really. This year after the horn, I wasn't sure which direction to go.
This is a preliminary photo. I added blood, scarring, and green skin. I put black for the eyes, but wasn't sure what to add. I also added black paper to the left foot to try and create a "missing foot". It didn't quite work.
This is the finished product. More blood, and green skin. I also changed the colors in the tail, but you can't see it here. There were also pink heart on the front and sides. I left the front one, but changed the side ones to black and green then added more blood. I also added blood to the missing foot that you can kind of make out. I think my favorite part of all is the bloodied horn.
And here is the aftermath. She really enjoyed the pinata. She was actually the only gal to hit it since her second swing knocked the body clear off, leaving only the decapitated head dangling for all to see. Inside, I stuffed the pinata with mini lollipops, fizzy lollipops, whistles, bouncy balls, two normal sized candy bars (for two lucky drunkards), condoms (plain old rubber and festive colored ones!), and smoke bombs! The smoke bombs were a total hit.
Overall, the pinata was a hit. I had a good time making it. And it was SO cheap. I had leftover streamers for adding gore and got most of the favors from The Dollar Tree (my fave store since I became so broke). More than anything, I'm happy happy happy it was a hit with my friend and the party. I hope she keeps that severed zombie unicorn head forever.
I finished my J book a few weeks ago and due to finals never had a chance to blog about it.
It's by Shirley Jackson and I believe it was her last novel. I haven't read any of her other stories, though I know her short story, The Lottery, is famous and lauded many times over.
The book was quite good. The story was interesting and the narrator, Merricat, was fascinating. She seemed crazy, maybe delusional. Her accounts of events, at first, were fully believable, as it seems a narrator should in a book. However, the more I read, the more it appeared Merricat might be more than just kooky. The idea of a narrator skewing stories works rather well with this book.
The story itself is flat. The characters are static, situations don't change. In this respect, I could see why some people wouldn't like Jackson's novel. For me, though, it really pulled the story along. I thought the story wasn't so much about Merricat and her sister, but about their surroundings, their neighbors and how people reacted to them.
I loved it for its dark, creepy thoughts. I loved it because it didn't hold back much from the cruelty of others, the cruelty people can force onto others just because they can.
I have no complaints about this book. It was beautifully written and well worth a read.
