Not Just a Word Nerd--A Word Warrior!

I'm not sure if anyone has noticed from reading this blog, but I'm a little wordy. Chalk it up to having a Ph.D.,  being the child and grandchild of journalists, and carrying the spelling and grammatical correctness gene. I may take some liberties here on my blog because A) it's my damn blog, and 2) nobody reads it anyway. I suppose, like every other blogger, I just like to see my own thoughts and ideas spewed out there for all to see and criticize, yet, unlike every other blogger, I realistically understand that nobody cares. Nobody is going to pay me for my opinion, no matter how profound.
Something I do get inexplicably paid to do is edit and proofread other people's writing. I work for a fine online editing company called Scribendi. People from all over the world send in their documents to be edited--everything from poetry to graduate dissertations to just about any other written thing you can think of. I have personally edited self-published books, textbooks, scientific papers, song lyrics, resumes, and much, much more. I've had the privilege of reading some fascinating work and making sure the message got through, as well as the burden of trying to make dreadful things readable. The coolest part, I think, is that I got such a nice gig despite having any sort of degree in writing or English (my Bachelor's is in Chemistry, my Ph.D. is in Biochemistry). I actually demonstrated my skills and got hired based on that--cool, huh?
So, as a confirmed Word Nerd (sorry, Word Warrior) and Ultimate Nitpicker, I salute the fine folks at Scribendi, and repost this adorable video they have created in order to get more work for their existing editors, and perhaps recruit some new editors! Word Warriors Unite!

My only criticism is that there are far too many trees in the "shootout" scene for it to be authentically Wild West-style. Since the company headquarters is in Chatham, Ontario, I understand they had to work with what they had, but next time, you guys are all invited down to Albuquerque, New Mexico, to shoot your shootout!  We've got tumbleweeds and desert and dust--it's so dry and brown here, you won't even have to sepia-tint it later!  It's not THAT long of a drive...is it?

Everybody's a Photographer--Except Me

Today's seemingly meaningless rambling is brought to you by Behr Ultra Exterior Semigloss Paint with built-in primer. Next time I'm sweating out what the magic formula was for this paint trim color, one of you fine readers be sure to chime in with, "Hey, dumbass, check your blog." Okay, this isn't the original paint color I chose, because I left the last part of the remaining bucket of paint out in the sun, which ruined the label, then, apparently, left it not quite sealed, which then got rained in. So the color below is the color of the stick that I stirred up the watery paint with to bring to the guy at Home Depot. After Tuesday's work dried, I realized that the new color is slightly darker than the old color, so, hey, I was going to put on two coats anyway. That "primer built right in so it only takes one coat" thing is bullshit anyway.

I've been trying to get the exterior surface of my house repainted for about, um, 4 years now, I think. Maybe longer. Considering the exterior surface is primarily NON-PAINTABLE BRICK, it doesn't, in theory, seem like that big of a job. Besides, it's a one-story ranch, so quit your whining, right?

So here you can see part of the painted trim, along with the old color, the sort of pinkish, pukey beige off to the right (there's just a little of it left above the furthest-right window). Can't imagine why I'd want to get rid of that.
As you can see, there's lots of trim right next to main body color (the light yellow) and plenty of opportunities to smear the one color into the other. I keep going to smaller and smaller brushes and getting less and less accomplished in each session. That back room, trim only, took two days. I'd get my kids to do it, but a) they'd demand compensation, whereas I'm free, and 2) they'd wind up getting paint everywhere but where I want it and I'd have to do it over again anyway. Or have bluish-greenish dogs. Speaking of dogs...Cassie said I should take some pictures of her and post it on my blog because I'm such a good photographer. Can I state for the record that I am the one person left on this planet who owns a nice digital camera, knows how to use it, but does not think nor say she's a photographer? One of my friends posted this humorous bit on Facebook the other day about a poor wedding photographer trying to negotiate with a new client about what she wants for her wedding versus what she's willing to pay, versus her uncle who owns a fancy digital camera. It's truly sad that even while I get that I (like everybody else) don't know Jack about photography, I (probably like everybody else) also don't really know how to appreciate a well-done photograph. Just like any type of artistic expression, most photographers out there have a body of work that they have solely created to impress other photographers. Painters do it, other visual artists do it, musicians do it. Regardless of the fact that those of us outside of your area of expertise don't give a crap. The rest of us just want to see your pretty pictures or hear your beautiful music. Probably writers do it too. Writers who know they can write will write these remarkably complicated story lines with sophisticated characters with complex lives and the deepest souls you can imagine, if only you can get past how darn sophisticated and chock full of context and meaning the writing is. That's why I write this blog in the style that I do. It entertains me a little bit, and I comprise about 33-50% of my audience. It's liberating to know that almost no one reads my blog, and then, every now and again someone stops by and leaves a comment, and it's a nice little surprise. Please enjoy my utterly non-professional snapshots and my own personal way of writing about it. Time to get back to the real world.

I Guess I Should Get Back To My Blog

I just purchased my second batch of Moo Mini cards with about a jillion different images on them. They are so fun and eye-catching and cute that people should want to take them. I intend on leaving them in conspicuous places for people to take and then perhaps maybe check out my website once they realize it is a business card.

As I was looking at them today, it occurred to me that the web address for this damn blog of mine is on them. Well crap. Now, I love to blather on about myself and my own selfish interests and pretend someone else cares as much as the next person, but I really can't stand blogging. That's not to say that I don't read my friends' blogs because I want to read about some contest they're sponsoring or about their personal dysfunction for my own entertainment (Yes, I mean you, Erin), but as far as my own desire to waste time in THIS PARTICULAR WAY, it's just not my thing. I'm sure I'm interesting to some people, but let's face it, part of the reason I am a visual artist is because visual art doesn't necessarily need an explanation. You either like it or you don't.

But I understand that part of being an artist is letting people know who they are buying the image from. Something that helps the viewer connect with what they are buying and (hopefully) hanging up in their own home or office. Something they can relate to, or laugh about, or feel sorry for, or be proud of, or whatever.

So here's your little tidbit for today to get to know me by. My artwork is not usually chock full of meaning, I probably just created it because I thought it was a good idea at the time. Sometimes I think of a great title for an image before I've even imagined the image. For instance, the drawing "Redheads Just Aren't For Me" is, well, a portrait in effigy, and, well, the title pretty much captures the full scope and give-a-fuck-ness (yes, I know there's a real word for that, but it's my blog and I just made it up and I like it) of how I felt about a particular person at the time. Granted, I'm

pretty much over it now, but the picture came out, IMHO, pretty f***ing awesome (I hate cussing more than once in a single blog post) so I'm still pretty proud of how I used my own snarky sarcasm to mock my own pain and create it.

Then on the other hand, sometimes I imagine a picture, either in part or in its entirety, and never think of a great title and that always really bugs me. I look at it and think the image is awesome, and I show it to my friends and

family and random people on the street in the hopes that they can do my job for me and help me come up with something besides "Untitled". I wind up just using whatever lame title I can think of and running with it, like "Purple Cat", "Weedy Study" or "The Seer". "The Seer" bugs me the most, because the title really makes it seem like it should mean something, but it's just a cool picture.

So there's some insight about me, and I will try to get better about writing shorter, more interesting posts about myself and the wacky sh!t I do. I promise not to blog about ironing shirts.

Tomorrow's topic, all this crazy lace I've been making, and how I feel about tatting! Sounds pretty all-encompassing, I know, but try and hold out until tomorrow.