More Bad News...

Ok, so I opened my mouth too soon. It turns out that things could be worse than last week. If people keep dying at this rate I will have to invest in bulk tissue you guys. I have to take a slight time out from MHIBTY, which, I kinda started already if you hadn't noticed.

And please, for the love of god, GO HUG ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY MEMBERS. Now.

A better pic...

I snagged a better picture for you guys, well, because it's just so gosh darn cute.

Hey, anyone know if a cat can OD on catnip? I bought some for Sammy (as a bribe to stop eating my plants) and I think I gave him WAAAAY too much. He was acting totally spastic and completely out of character... plus he INSISTED that I go him funyuns and a Gatorade. Weird.

Two North

Last week was a doozy. Every single UN-fun emotion that there is be felt.... I felt it. Twice. Going down and then coming back up again, one could say. The only thing I can do is just hug everyone. Thankfully I haven't yet succumbed to hugging strangers.

But that's all I have to say about that.

Since it was, and still is to a degree, sad panda times, I turned to my handy glue gun to help get me out of the blues. I used to eat my way through all of my emotions. Now I just hot glue something to them.

I don't have an apartment number decal/sign/sticker. Neither do my across-the-hall neighbors. This really confuses the Jimmy John's guy. The same day that I found my old violin song book, I also found a decorative letter N. A wood cut out, colorfully painted in circles and dots. My friend Becky had attached it to a present she gave me last year. My neighbor's number is "2N" and saw this as a happy little convergence of re-use possibilities, buttons and a hot glue gun.

So I made a little plaque to hang on their door and I marched across the hallway, my heart filled with joy and other creative juices. As I knocked I was suddenly seized with the fear that they might not LIKE what I had made them. I had made an arts and craft project for them that ranks slightly above "macaroni art." And it was in primary colors and circles to boot.

My neighbors welcome mat is gray with black silhouettes of leaf-less trees, which suggests the "welcome" you are getting might be a little grim. And Haunted. Also, they have handprint decals on their front windows. They're red. And are "dripping/running."

As she opened her door, I lost faith in my buttons. I had realized, too late, that everyone might not like my buttons hot glued to shit as much as I do. I tried to be all nonchalant about this random home made present, insisting that it was just something I can't help... a sickness. She was concerned that I had spent money on the supplies.

"Oh no, I didn't buy anything. Doesn't everyone have a box of random crafty-items?"

She said that she did as well and thanked me. I checked later that day and it hadn't been hung. I ALMOST knocked and apologized for the silly thing and wanted to explain that I was just REALLY sad and making and then sharing the sign had made me feel better... and to please forgive me and don't tell the landlord that I'm weird.

I came home today...

Thanks N&M!

She's Crafty!

I got this knit top at a clothing swap a few months ago. It's super soft. There was a TEENY tiny hole in it at the time and I told myself that I would mend it

 After going through one wash cycle, 6 LARGE holes appeared (thanks to the attached bejeweled necklace).

In the past I've thrown away clothes that have holes or stains. I decided this time to try my hand at "reusing" the shirt and fix it by creating something new. So I pulled out my craft box.

The shirt is just a plain ivory, a blank pallet. I went with peaches and browns, stuff I already had on hand (double bonus that this project didn't require me to buy anything!).

Oh yeah, and I took of the neck piece. Hole making b@stard.

I then cut out varies size circles of my fabric. I used a coaster, a cup and a container of lotion to trace around. I cut out about 15, but I didn't use all of them.

I then hand stitched them in a pseudo random pattern, first making sure the holes were covered and then going back and balancing the entire look.

OF COURSE I had to add buttons.

The back. Two holes there too.

Completely original new shirt!

Deja Violin

Somehow, someway my parents were able to provide me with a private tutor during most of the years I played the violin. I'm sure bartering or some sort of work-trade was involved to cover tuition, just like it was with ballet classes (mom sewing countless costumes) and karate lessons (dad remodeling the dojo). Regardless, I spent many an hour in Mrs. Nigro's basement studio of her home in Raytown, Missouri. It was a pity I never practiced, I could see it on her face most weeks.

Anyway, I came across one of the last books I did with her in the beginning of 1998 a few days ago. This was the last few months I played before quitting. She was annoyed that I had decided to quit Orchestra at the end of the school year. I lied to her and told her I'd try to play on my own and keep it up.

As I flipped through this book on Sunday I realized that almost all of the songs, pieces I had mastered (and I use the word loosely here) back in freshman year, I have been working on for the past several months. I was repeating my catalog of work and hadn't even realized it.

Mrs. Nigro's scribbles cover the same areas that I have trouble with today. It's kinda like the ghost of Violin Teachers Past reminding me of my trouble areas and to REACH to hit that high B on the E string.

Thanks Mrs. Nigro.

If I know you in real life and you're able to make it to my concert on Thursday... you're coming right???

Grandma ran over the Reindeer

My grandmother Alice (Sammy's mom) had a motorized wheelchair.

Fortunately she is capable of being mobile without the Rascal. For a while she used it as her main mode of transportation, after her drivers license was taken away, mainly to visit her husband in the Nursing Home. My mom asked and pleaded with her not to, but Grandma is stubborn like that. Mom's only choice was to get a couple of brightly colored flags and a sign that read "Wide Load" to attach to the chair.

Now that Grandma is with Nelson in the nursing home, she no longer needs to trek a few miles on back roads to see him. We thought that the Scooter Saga was over.

I learned this weekend that the chair had been taken away from her by the Nursing Home staff and she won't get it back until she's successfully completed an "Appropriate Behavior" course, learning what is and isn't acceptable to do with the Hoover-Round.

I'm just speculating here, but based on what I know about my Grandma this is what I think the course would look like:

8AM
Keeping all 4 wheels on the ground: A guide to basic motorized chair etiquette.

10AM
Break for the Price is Right

11AM
The Hallway is not a Race Track

Lunch

1PM
How to Avoid Crushing Others' Feet and Toes

3PM
WE KNOW YOU SAW HER! DO NOT RUN OVER THE NURSE!!!

I'm certain that she'll get her chair back but it will only be a matter of time before it's confiscated again and she has to go through the advanced course OR they remove the standard battery and replace it with a a dozen AA batteries so that her top speed is somewhere between "snail" and "turtle" giving her would-be victims ample time to move or get out of the way.

a creepy "Secret Garden"

Whitney asked if I would spend an afternoon with her taking pictures. I'm a big fan of her work AND she was going to do my makeup. It was a no brainer. She had a vision; I was instructed to show up at her place with black shoes, black patteren tights and black bra with my foundation, eyebrows and hair done. She was going to do everything else.

I knew the pictures were going to be great. Yet, I was still blown away when I saw them. Whitney is totally bad ass and I'm very lucky to know her. I even more lucky that I get to share some of the pics here.

I discovered this overgrown little garden in the West Plaza area of KC a few years ago and knew it would be perfect for a creepy "Secret Garden" kind of shoot. It was, sadly, cleared out a bit since last summer, but still had a wonderfully weird quality I loved. We also did a few shots in the basement of my vintage building and my favorite shot was actually taken in a claw foot bathtub in my apartment! I just wanted to create some photos that I like to look at: a bit cold, interesting, and maybe a touch haunting. Hopefully, others like to look at them as well!
-Whitney Smith