October 4th, 2015

2013, cyd, new

My tweets

2013, cyd, new

52 Card Pick-up & Envelopes Filled with Glitter

Time for a little catch-up. A good 1/3 of my materials from my studio are on the living room floor. Luckily, we have room for a two man tent on the living room floor. In the queue, first thing, are the stained sheets of "faux alien skin" that need a special clear coating that Doc was going to help me with, but I crashed out and it didn't happen. It is too windy to do it outside, or even out in the studio at this time. So the art queue is at a dead stop. I continue to line up projects with their assigned boxes of needed materials, it's just that the stained sheets of paper need to be done first because they are fragile and need to be used or stored away as quickly as possible, which is why they were moved to top priority. I wasn't aware this would need to be done until I was deep into what began as an impulse project.

It turns out that Doc is impressed with Stick, and wants me to paint more. Maybe make a potted garden. To that end, he has asked that I not decorate Stick any further until I have painted a couple others and determined if, when displayed together, the paint isn't enough. There is still the option of making Stick the King of the Potted Garden and continuing the decoration. He's got his sights set on an installation of Sticks. Since my other installation is going nowhere right now, I'm hep to his idea. I've gotten more than I wanted from Stick so far. The video of me painting him was perfect because of the cats' cameos. Stick looks great. I couldn't ask for any more from Stick. So, creating friends for him might be interesting. We'll see. We have a harvest coming up in about 8 weeks. We will be leaving all of the stalks in the pots and harvesting them from the pots, rather than just cutting the whole stalk down and hanging it. So I will have several more Sticks. Decisions can be made then.

Doc and I still have not done my fall photo shoot outside. This weekend it was far too windy. I still have the set up. The wheelbarrow standing up and a "Grecian" pot, with mulch spread around rather thick. I'm going to put it to Doc this way: either he can take the pics, or I can pay a beginning photographer $50 to do it, and he will own the rights to the photos. Doc is adamant about me owning all the rights to all of my images, so he won't go for that. He's even been known to go through folders of my old cam images, filling out metadata with my copyright info on each image. Because there are thousands and I get tired of playing catch-up with metadata. So, the shoot should take place some time this week. I was looking for a pair of arm warmers for it, because the flannel I've chosen to wear has the sleeves cut off, and I don't want to have to retouch my scars. I have a pair of nice black ones, but they are short, don't even come up to my elbows. All I could find were "goth" styles with skulls and spiders all over them; heavy wool knit in new fall colors; and running/biking/dancing styles. None of them what I need. I may have to call on Hot Topic for this.

Ugh. Doc has stuff all over his bed, so he is sleeping out here today. No TV. No noise. He's going to complain about my typing soon, so I will write more tonight, after he has left.
2013, cyd, new

Okay, more catch-up . . .

Then Scout, the new laptop died. Long story, not going into it. It is under warranty. But newegg makes it really hard to make a claim on said warranty, and I have to rely on Doc, in his off hours to take care of it. So I am under stress. Photoshop experimentation is at a dead stop.

And thus ends my desire to type. The past six hours of silence were hell. I couldn't sit still, and every time I moved on my couch, it creaked, which woke him up. Every time I went to have a cigarette, it woke him up. It was a nightmare for both of us. Whatever he needs to do to get his bed back tomorrow, I will do it. No more silent captivity.

What the hell am I going to do tonight? Rarr. I can't read twitter or facebook. Need to take a break. If I see one more post blaming mental illness for gun massacres, I'm going to freak right the fuck out. It's coming from all sides. Don't understand something? Label it mental illness. Really don't understand something? Label it schizophrenia. Fucking stupid fuckheaded fucks. You're all fucking stupid and all deserve to be shot, I want to scream every time I get on social media. It's. The. Guns. End. Of. Story. Yes, regulate them, stop the mentally ill from getting them, if you can. But in this particular case (Oregon), it wasn't the mentally ill shooter that was getting the weapons, it was his un-adjudicated mother that was stockpiling the weapons because she was convinced that Obama was coming for them. Obviously, she was mentally unstable, as well. But no judge had said so, so she could still legally get as many weapons as she could carry. See? the mental illness clause in the currently proposed gun background checks don't even cover the problem of the mentally ill getting weapons, because so many mentally ill people are either not diagnosed/treated, or never committed by a judge against their will. So even if gun control advocates get what they want, it won't do a damn thing to help with the problem of the mentally ill getting a hold of and/or stockpiling guns and ammo.

But no one wants to hear that. Just like no one wants to hear what I ever say. Until the press says it. Then it's meme meme meme, link link link.

I realized something as I was typing it today . . . the reaction I get from people who I out myself to is . . . get ready for it . . . fear. That's why no trolls. Or trolls that end up apologizing to me after they read my twitter profile. Fear that I will go "psycho" on them. Really. It's the only explanation I can come up with. I don't have one of those sexy mental illnesses that are celebrated for the strength of the sufferers. Not like Bipolar, PTSD, ADHD, Depression, Borderline Personality Disorder, the ones with activists and lobbyists and allies and websites. We don't have supportive twitter accounts. We have Doctor's and research teams and medical journals to follow. They have support systems, we have medical jargon. And we are the ones portrayed in the media as the dangerous and inconceivable ones. We're portrayed as roundly dangerous and driven to wanton destruction of lives, property, or selves. We are depicted as incurable, untreatable. We have no loud voice. We have scattered shouts, here and there. But how can we? We lose all credibility as reliable, responsible, independent persons as soon as we are found out, or out ourselves. A lot of us cannot stand other people, as a general rule, some, like me, especially do not like others like me. It's my hang up and it isn't right, but there it is.

So yeah, no social media for a while. It's no good for my piece of mind. I think I'll go through my folder in my email and check out some Photoshop tips. I'm also determined to find some techniques in Photoshop that are applied to pale subjects. All of the tutorials I've found doing artistic effects rely on heavily darkened photos with many deep shadows. I have a series of photos of mostly my skin against a light backdrop that I'm willing to put a grayscale gradient in, but I want to keep the figure pale while applying some kind of artistic efex. They are not easy to find. But I don't know if it is because of a lack of them, or faulty searching by me. I wish I could have some insight to Google's algorithm. Not to use it to game it, but to use it to search better. They keep jumping ahead of me. Every time I think of a different way to search, to combine my words, to incorporate BOOLEAN (sp) symbols into a "regular" search, it seems Google is already there. So what secrets is it hiding? It has ruined me for every other search box I find on the internet.