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2013, cyd, new
cydniey

Dear Diary, Someone's Got to Love That Man

Dear Diary,


Okay, so it’s me that loves him. But to be completely honest, I can get nothing done when he is around. Especially now, after the watershed. We are so close now, such good friends, that we want to be around each other all the time. And he hasn’t been the least bit helpful in keeping me from talking, no matter what he thinks. He kept asking me questions last night and today, and then telling me to be quiet when I tried to speak. I couldn’t stop laughing at him after the third time in 15 minutes that the twit did it.


I spoke to Felix earlier, and my voice seemed to have returned. I’m keeping mum right now. I want to do a reading tonight and record it, so I’m saving the voice I heard address the cat. Pitiful as it was.


I actually started revising poems of mine that I hate. I know, I have never done revisions before, I have always clung to the illusion of the original vision above all else. But I can look back more clearly now, most times, better express, and sometimes even further express the things I was trying to say. And most of the time I don’t like a poem of mine, it is because it is, in a sense, incomplete. It needs to be looked at and assessed. And I like them when I am done. On the one hand, this gives me a LOT more material, on the other hand, this gives me a LOT more material. If you get my meaning. I’ve just started sorting them all into categories for future publication. Now I have many many more to go through. But I”m really enjoying the process, and it is a good distraction from the glue and the wire and the beads right now. I don’t want to get burned out on jewelry.


Okay, I miss him. Obstructionist that he is, the house is too quiet when he is gone.


He got two boxes he sent himself from his parent’s house, today. He was in no hurry to open them, I don’t know what is in them. I think it’s things his mom kept handing him, telling him to take. But I’m not sure, it could just be junk from his old room. He brought home his dad’s BDU shirt in his suitcase. We’re discussing getting a half mannequin top to put it on. Without a head, of course. That would be creepy. But it has dad’s name on it and his rank insignia. It’s from the Korean Conflict. Or, war, as it was known to those who wore clothes like dad did. Man, the stories . . . if you ever have the chance to talk to a Korean or Cold War vet, DO IT! Everything they say will be fascinating. Jesus, I want to start going to Retirement Communities and searching them out and video-ing their stories. I so wish I had that chance with dad. There are a lot of retirement communities in this town. I could really make a project of it, if I had resources and transportation and teeth. I’ll think of something. I want to hear more stories, whether I record them or not, I want to hear them forever.


They’re talking about Trump again. That reminds me, I need to further advance my political self-education and look up George Wallace. The only Wallace’s I know are Marcellus and Mia. Pitiful, I know. (Points if you get that movie reference, which most of you already have.) Rachel and Lawrence O’Donnell keep bringing Wallace up, so I really should know what went down the year before I was born. I also need to read up on the Democratic National Convention in the 60’s that went down bad. Now, that Trump has announced if he doesn’t win the convention, there will be riots. Nice guy, he did say that he wouldn’t lead the riots. So, there’s that.


Felix has moved out for the season. He is living in the abandoned tree house next door that overlooks our yard and back door. Whenever I go out there, he climbs down and meows over to me. And he did come in for our nap today. That was nice. He and Chewbacca got in a bit of a tiff as to who was sleeping at my neck/chest/head. Chewy was there first, but Felix is more insistent, and ended up licking Chewbacca right full on the nose with his rough tongue. The dog turned around and went down to my legs. Score, Felix. They are such dicks to each other. Chewy tries to be a dick to Boo, because she always wants to be on my lap. But she nurfles him and boops his nose with hers and just breaks him down with affection until he is nuzzling her back and nearly purring himself and they are sharing space. The other day, Chewy just laid down on one of the cats that was with me, I can’t remember who, now. There was no hissing, no objection. He’s a little toaster oven on legs, he’s great to cuddle with.


 


2013, cyd, new
cydniey

Dear Diary, Oh Yeah, Ah Right

I put my Doc Martens and jeans on at 9 and went out to the garage. It is 2:30 now. I have a studio. I have one more table to set up,  and a dresser to make room for. That’s it, minor stuff to put away under the table once it’s up. I found a long shank of lightweight rope, about the weight in total of Chewbacca’s leash. So I tied it to a sturdy piece of furniture out in the studio, and then attached a D-link to the other end, and hooked it up to his harness. Viola! Chewy can now come with me out into the studio, and even roam around the front or back. He just has to get used to the rope.


I have to add more light. I have a jar of fairy lights I will put on one worktable, and hang some string lights across the ceiling to get some shadow-less light. The piece of carpet Doc brought home fits perfectly. And it is pretty, so there’s that. It was used in a sewing room. there are bits of brightly colored thread worn into the weave. So it really is perfect as a studio rug now. The stereo still works, I had that going.


Chewy and I are going for a walk later to look for a neighbor with a band saw who would be willing to make a few straight cuts to a piece of wood I have that I want to use as necklace and bracelet displays. I may, if I can get enough out of the piece I have,  have one small piece cut and drill holes in it so that I can display earrings. I came up with a new design today that is a full ensemble. Earrings, necklace with pendant, bracelet with charm. It’s a way to use up some beads I bought on impulse that I really do not like and will not wear, perfect for my quilt fabric line.


See? Just getting the studio ready, I am so excited. Oh, I need to price out a vice. Right now I just need it for one project, but Doc said it was on his list of tools to have. And I get to cannibalize a microwave cabinet that came apart into planks when exposed to the desert sun. More spray paint! Once again, an artist’s work inspired me to make a thing that will fit right in the Punk Rock upcycle theme. And aside from the vice, which I could do without with the giant pair of vice grips and the table I have, I have all I need for this project. Pure profit, baby. I have to start thinking in those terms. As of the first of the year, I started keeping the receipts for my supplies, and I owe myself a whole lot of money right now.


I anticipate it being a year, and that includes a really optimistic and productive holiday season, before I start to see any money from the shop. I will do the usual shit, get it a Twitter and FB account. Maybe even Instagram and take the occasional picture of what I am doing. I will also be live streaming my arting, since I now have a place to do it where I can set up the laptop anywhere and anyway I want to. I have to make three audio CDs of the royalty free punk music I got from freeplay.com. I’ll be streaming through youtube, like that time before, since the music is only royalty free if it is used on youtube. Plus, youtube saves the video and lets you download it and edit it. You can even edit it online. It’s just easier to use an outside source for this. And it won’t tax bandwidth, HA!


Like anyone will watch (besides Lilliane, heh). No one watches my youtube channel as it is. Really easy to find: CYDNIEY. There’s only one other chick in the world using that spelling online, and she is a snot-nosed kid. And I doubt she has a youtube account. And I know she doesn’t have one under that name. Cydniey Buffers, if all else fails. I am, as far as I know, unique in the universe.


I need Doc to wake up to help me with the table before I grab a random stranger off the street. I got the living room mostly cleared out. When I am done taking a well-deserved breather, here, and the ibuprofen has kicked in, I’ll finish up in here and then clear out my bedroom, which is full of inventory. Then the house will be cleared out and I can turn on the stereo out there and just do my thing for the next 5 hours until the sun goes down. Then, maybe on, into the night. Who knows? World of possibilities here,I have my studio back!!