o, world.

The View From Here.

I spent much of this week preparing for the launch of my holiday jewelry line, sawing and sanding (repeat until covered in silver dust..). I took a day out, too, to make an item for Artworks" fundraising art show, Secret Artworks. Rated as the top fundraiser of 2007 by Cincinnati's CityBeat magazine, Secret Artworks is a 'fundraising event featuring the exhibition and sale of 5” x 7” works of art from local, national and international artists. All works of art sell for $75 each. The ‘secret’ behind each piece is the identity of the artist – which is revealed after the work is purchased.' I'm so excited to be one of the contributing artists! As one of the artists who has work displayed, I get to attend the fundraiser, which is even more exciting - however hermit-y I am (and I definitely am), I am always, always energized (I was looking for a less hokey word, but it's late, and I could not come up with one. I am sorry.) after spending a night with like-minded arty folk.

So, yes. The view above is what I saw most afternoons, after my run, and my quick lunch, as I sawed and sanded and soldered and polished. It was a wonderful week.

The View From Here..

Drove very far today; nearly in Maine! I'll be mostly blogging on the new Postcards from Camp blog from here on out (through August, anyhow); come say hello!

The View From Here.

It was a beautiful day.

For more rally photos from Barack Obama's Dayton visit on October 9th, click here.

Ohh, Ohio.

Much of Ohio is still without power, including yours truly. I'm sitting at a coffeeshop now, in one of the little pockets of homes and businesses in town that has electricity, and internet access. I visited my studio last night, and found one of the windows busted out from the wind. I'm off to pick glass from among my beads and silver stock, and try to find some food that is not pretzel sticks and/or fruit. Happy Wednesday. :)

The View From Here..

It is so hot in my studio. So incredibly, drippingly, swelteringly hot. In Ohio there are two seasons: gloomy and sticky. We are currently in the sticky season. The back of my shirt is soaked in sweat, and I smell. It is cooler outside than in, and sometimes I walk down to the hallway on the second floor and just sit there, because it's significantly (and unfairly, if I may offer up a fist shake and a grumble to the gods of these types of things) cooler there. Cooler still on the first floor, but knowing how sweaty I will get simply walking back up three flights of stairs after chilling on the first floor prevents me from venturing there.

After I left I dropped by the post office, and as I walked through the first set of doors, I saw a man turn from the stamp machine to look at me, and then he's jab-jab-jabbing his finger in my direction and I can see his mouth moving through the glass of the next set of doors, and when I open them, the first thing I hear is, 'How much are stamps?!', and the finger is still jab-jab-jabbing in my direction. I jab-jab-jabbed my finger at him and said, '41 cents, I think! Maybe 42. I don't really mail letters.' I'm not sure exactly how or when my brain decided that the finger-jabbing thing was fun, but it was, or maybe I just wanted to imitate him, or be funny. I worried briefly that he might think I was making fun, but I wasn't. I wasn't exactly sure WHY I was jabbing my finger back at him, but poking fun was not the reason. He seemed oblivious, though, not noticing me much except to ask about the automated postal machine. Perhaps he thought I worked there, though I can't imagine how, what with my sweat-plastered hair and dirty clothes, and the Trader Joe's bag full of packages. Who knows? But I kind of liked him. He needed stamps, dammit, and he needed them now, and it didn't matter that I couldn't HEAR him through the glass as he started talking, or that he didn't know me, and I didn't work there, and I quite possibly had no idea what stamps cost. He lacked a filter, and I can appreciate that, having lost mine some time ago.