Streamin' Dreamin'

Dead things

2012-01-25T11:24:00.004-07:00

Some samples from our tour of the science building yesterday.

A question was raised by the philosophy professor (outside my presence) about the ethics of using/exploiting these animals' bodies. "You wouldn't do that with human bodies," she was reported to counter.

Actually, I would. There are human bones I have to talk with a different professor about photographing.

But it isn't about exploitation. I hope my work is very obvious about how I feel about being exploitative of my subjects.

If anything, I feel too empathetic of the creatures. If an animal dies in the wild, it rots and disappears. But if it is captured, found, or killed to create a display creature like these, in exchange for a little bit of humiliation, it will long outlast it's projected earthly presence. In other words, its mortality is extended beyond the normal lifetime of its body. Not indefinitely. Looking at some of these, we see time will still take its toll.

I read about a museum that burned all its old taxidermy. I thought that was tragic. A waste of the animal and a waste of the artistry of the preparer. I don't know if I think of them as art, but there is a distinct skill that is present or not in these remains.

Somehow, I was most drawn to the over-presented animals--like the ones with their own, portable dioramas--and the underpresented ones--like the skins stuffed with cotton and mounted on a stick. The later have this cotton stare, but a pose like they are sleeping or dead. They are beautiful and sad at the same time.

Wherein I get my students excited about dead things

2012-01-24T17:46:00.001-07:00

Last semester, my photo class read an article about taxidermy and how, as scientific specimens, it is going "out of style" for study, because of the prevalence of photography. I also found a great blog, http://www.ravishingbeasts.com/, which has interesting articles about the ebb and flow of the uses and value placed on taxidermied animals as objects.

So I got it in my head we should do a class project using the preserved specimens in the science building. They have a remarkable collection of animals in their vertebrate program, apparently donated by Bozeman many decades ago (because they didn't want them).

After many mutterings from the class last year about how they hated their sciences classes, I was terrified to try this, to show them something I think is so fascinating and will require so much coordination; what if they hated it? What if they half-assed it?

Today, after looking at lots of slides of 17th century medical drawings and models, and 19th century taxidermic displays, and 20-21st century artist interpretations, we went over to the science department, where the vertebrate biologist gave us a tour. It was apparently a muched-talked-about affair, this invasion of artists. The microbiologist interrupted our tour to affirm, "single cell organisms are also life, and would make beautiful pictures", then she showed us where the special microscope was and said we could use it. Someone else pointed out the green house too. Apparently, a heated discussion erupted during a committee meeting between the biologist and the animal-rights philosopher ("are they exploiting those animals who were already murdered for their bodies? You wouldn't do that to human remains!"). To which I said, "Class, name some artists who use human remains," then "should we invite the philosopher to class for a discussion? Can you defend yourselves?" They said yes.

As we left, they were excited. "I have so many ideas," kept popping out of their mouths. Write those things down before you forget! Now, I just need to find the exhibition venue...

Perhaps this image is exploitative. If anything, I think of the decay of these mounts as indicative of why this method of scientific examination is flawed, why I'm glad photography has replaced them. I also think such exhibits should be preserved, so the little animals get the most use out of their sacrifices.

I'll put some pictures up later. This one I took a few weeks ago when pitching the idea to the class.

Oh, television

2012-01-23T00:14:00.002-07:00

On a whim, I started watching "United States of Tara." In Season 2, they buy the neighbor's "retro" 70s house, which is a time capsule to perfect, high modernism (late 60s, early 70s). They start smashing walls and stuff, and in every scene, all I can think is, "no, don't do it! I want those curtains*! The dust!"

Look at the lamp. The coffee table. The desk with those tapered legs. Sigh.

*This scene doesn't have the good curtains; they have plants on them, and are in the living room, if you are a fan.

Celebrating the end of a FABULOUS day!

2012-01-19T22:49:00.001-07:00

With a glass of wine, and eggs with turkey sausage. It's supposed to snow a couple inches tonight, but I don't mind.

What makes today fabulous? Well, many things... but I am definitely a person who takes pride in and from my job.

It is still the beginning of the semester, but I started this one with much apprehension (based on my previous ones here--trying a new approach, which is good, but leads to MORE apprehension...). My schedule is a studio-back-to-back, which means I have to be MORE organized than usual (as in, no making new slide lectures three hours before class time, since there are two stacked classes to be preparing for... for those counting, that's 6 levels of information to have ready every Tuesday and Thursday by 2). I have been meeting typical stubborn head-butting with the Evil Clowns (you know who you are!), and I was receiving silence on a new, collaborative project I wanted to get going for my photo class.

Oh, and if you don't recall from previous posts, I have been sick the last two days, and also had a 20 foot driveway with 1 foot of snow to shovel (and a 50 foot sidewalk, and the 1 foot of snow on the car was harder to get off than I thought). Lots of obstacles.

But these are what make us stronger, right?

So today was great for the following:

While I started shoveling later than I should (I was sure it would send me into a coughing fit that would kick me out of remission), I got it done fairly quickly and was only a little late for office hours. LUCKILY... no one was waiting for me, so I had no guilt. (Unluckily, I saw the evil neighbor moved the corner survey marker... really? After all this time?!)
My photo students and I had a great, easy lesson, and they learned some new technical stuff, and we clarified their goals for the semester, and planned our Sunday night-shooting field trip.
I received an email from the Evil Clowns and they backed down from one of their stubborn, useless trenches. Eureka! I was able to offer my evening class good and helpful news! Yes, I actually DANCED and did HIGH KICKS from the relief of it. (I was trying to offer an easier solution, but since they hadn't thought of it, they fought it... finally, they conceded it was a good idea... perhaps the Evil Clowns can learn? Learn to love, maybe?)
My evening class learned lots of new things... only one computer (well, more than one, but only for one student :( ; she had the same problem on three machines!) wasn't working properly. They were engaged, asked questions, and were excited about their first project.
During one of our breaks, I saw one of the first projects in the women's bathroom. It said, "you are beautiful" around the mirror. And I can't believe that corny thing worked on me. I was grinning and smiling at my face, in that frame covered with paper butterflies.
I had sent an email last week to someone about collaborating with my class on a project. I stayed in the office till 11PM working on that email. When I got no response, I was really disappointed. Today, I called the department admin and found out who I should talk to instead. I edited my email and sent it to him. Before the end of the day, he replied and said what a great idea he thought it was and how excited he was to help. Yay, we get to move forward on our project!
Before I left the office, I wrote a to-do list for tomorrow, so I wouldn't fret about it tonight.
I came home and there was no new snow to shovel.
Some friends and I are planning a craft night tomorrow, and I am enjoying the idea of planning a coinciding wine-and-chocolate tasting party, as well as classic records on my record player. It gives me a reason to clean (which I need... I've been slacking since returning) and I do love hosting... I get to drag out my weird vintage serving stuff! Yay!
I just remembered this, so it should be #1, but I don't want to renumber... I received my FedEx package with my most wild Christmas present: a 1960s multi-color wheel light (for aluminum Christmas trees OR fun parties!). If I had left on time, I would have missed the FexEx guy, and it would have sat on my front porch all day (and probably all day tomorrow too) in the snow... and might have been ruined. But it wasn't! Now, it might have to make it's debut appearance after 40 years at Craft Night!

Retro stuff I bought in December

2012-01-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

Aren't these espresso cups great? I don't have an espresso maker, but that hardly seems the point.

This is the new SLR I got over break. It is in beautiful condition, but I can't tell from the pictures if I like the way it shots or not. I have never used a fixed-50mm lens (I was lucky in Photo 1, to have a variable focus lens and quickly fell in love with wide-angle). It made me shoot a little differently, which I liked, and I enjoyed the things it made me look at*. Returning to color film, however, meant a return to the problems associated with film (and traveling with film). I took my film to a high-end lab for processing in California (why oh why didn't I just do it in Indiana?? Stupid holidays got in the way). I walked in and said, "Do you still process film?" (After all, it had been YEARS since I'd been there.) "Of course we do," the lady said, smiling. "We process film every Wednesday." It was Wednesday evening. "So it will be ready NEXT Wednesday." Yeah, I was leaving CA on Monday.

So I took my film to Costco. Which is always a bad idea. But I did it anyway. Twice.

The prints are weird and muddy, so I can't decide if it is the camera or Costco. The days I chose to shoot in Indiana were overcast, and it's possible a California Costco couldn't deal with those grey, flat days. I will eventually scan the film myself and see how it looks on the computer.

I did notice every 15 frames or so, the shutter would stick and black out 25-95% of 3 images in a row, then it would correct itself. It occurred to me that if I thought finding a commercial film processing lab was hard, finding a camera repair shop to fix my 1973, $25 camera would be harder. Apparently, I need to learn how to rebuild cameras myself.

*Cameras don't make you look at things. But sometimes, using a new camera makes you go out and find things you might have been ignoring.

Sick in snowpocalypse

2012-01-19T10:15:00.000-07:00

I opened the door to take this. It is very pretty, but very cold.

The danger of naming yesterday/today's storm a snow-pocalypse... is nature could take it as a challenge. Truly, there is only a foot of snow on the ground, but the temperature has been -9 for 24 hours straight. And I've been in bed sick. On Internet Black-Out Day.

The view out one of my bathroom windows. I was going to lie and say,
"look, the snow is above the windows!" but really, my shed it there, so, it's not THAT high.

Things I have learned about living in snow include the following:

1. No matter how crappy you feel, you should take out the trash. Because tomorrow, it might turn -9 degrees and drop a foot of snow. Then you will have to take out the trash AND shovel your way to the can.

I love the texture of the snow on the deck. It's fallen through or
possibly melted... And the tables I left out look like cakes.

2. The mailman really does still deliver the mail. It's so cold, I won't even open my door to reach out and get the mail, and he still delivered it. I don't think this is necessary.

I was trying to capture the dramatic sweep of snow as it mounded on the deck, then dipped toward the house.
It's very subtle though, as snow is all about preventing light and shadow from capturing it.
I like the detail on the railing!

2. People still go for walks when there is snow and it's -9. It's harder to shovel the sidewalks when they walk on it first. As much as I'd like to throw rocks at these people, it means, earlier shoveling is easier shoveling. But I'm sick, so I'm doing as little of my civic duty as possible today. (Luckily, at -9, it won't compact into ice quite as easily.)

3. If you have well-shoveled sidewalks (throughout the neighborhood), it is less work to walk to work than shovel. That is, if you live in Indiana. In Montana, the roads are not really plowed, so even if your neighbors all shoveled (including me, see #2), you will still have to climb the snow berms left by the plow (on the roads they plow) or the chaotic ones left by the cars (on most roads).

4. If you do decide to drive, be prepared for your vehicle to get stuck in deep rivets of sloppy snow at intersections. TG44WD. The normally limited parking will not be a problem, as everyone will have created spaces at the end of each row, since there is no way to see the painted lines. Of course, the rows of parking spaces do push into the road going past them, making the normally-wide-two-lane street into a claustrophobic one-lane thing, hugging the edge of the ditch.

I know it's hokey, but I love my oak tree-with-a-face. I think it is my standard image for how the weather is looking outside.

6. No one understands how cold it is when the numbers become negative. No one. You go outside, and you think, "Minus 9 feels kind of the same as 9." That's what it wants you to think. It is already killing you, but trying to convince you everything is OK.

My mom called yesterday. In my fever-riddled state, I just kept mumbling "Minus nine." My mom asks, "So are you running the heater, or are you conserving energy and just adding an extra blanket?" "MINUS NINE," I began screaming like a loon. Then I tried to compose myself and pointed out it would be difficult to walk around the house if I let it get that cold, and sit on the toilet, and flush the toilet when the pipes all froze, and then there are the cats. Ah, that's what happens in minus nine.

Minus nine is also great for figuring out which of your windows are good, high quality ones (most of them), and which suck (the ones the previous owner chose in the sunroom, which don't match the rest). There is a find lace of ice around the drafty parts.

This last picture is dumb, but I wanted to relate some stories. This shed (I assume from the previous owner... there were only two other owners, and this shed reeks of a younger owner's bad decisions) was not installed on a level foundation, so the doors don't properly close. At some point, it was on fire too, which made a 1' hole in the corner. Anyway, I stacked bricks in that corner, and set rocks against the door to keep it closed. It's hard to open and closed, but I kept finding it open. So I used rocks. It's been closed the last few times I looked at it. This morning, it was open. So the mystery of who/what opens it begins. I imagine there are five deer in there right now, huddled against the cold. I already blogged in the past about the bunnies that live in the original shed (to the right, above). I hope it's full of bunnies.

All those photos I forgot to take

2012-01-17T10:59:00.000-07:00

I have all these things I see throughout the day I want to post and comment on... the objects we saw (and bought) at an estate sale and how they relate to nostalgia/kitsche I have been interested in. Additionally, the sale was of things belonging to a very artsy-crafty lady who created a plethora of pastiche using the leftovers of daily life (air filters, wooden thread spools, greeting cards, toilet paper tubes, egg shells) and velvet ribbons, beads, broken jewelry. The results were these loving little objects, miniature still lifes of nostalgic, childish perfection.

But I haven't been blogging these things because I haven't photographed them. And the more blogs I see, the more apparent to me it becomes that blogs NEED photographs. Unless they are very short. Possibly made up of single sentences.

I'm also researching materials for a class project, and that has been interesting. Not to get too far into it, but I'll give you the gist: antique taxidermy.

More on all of this later. Once I have pictures.

Happy 80th birthday, grammy!

2012-01-09T01:36:00.000-07:00

A little mushy

2012-01-07T20:19:00.000-07:00

I tend to be a semi-private person. That might sound crazy coming from a blog, but generally, you will not hear me gush about feelings and love and hearts and tweeting lovebirds. You just won't.

But maybe that's wrong of me. Maybe a little public gushing is good for everyone involved.

This is a picture of my fiance picking a tangerine. Maybe it is a little mundane, but if you didn't grow up in citrus grooves like I did, it is completely strange, novel, and lovely. And when Sparky told me he didn't want to leave California without picking and eating a fruit he picked, well, I had to oblige.

When that didn't work, I asked my grandpa if he knew someone with a tree, which he did. Despite being a yard-tree, it was still novel and lovely.

I am amazed how, when you find the right person, everything is new again, fresh and wonderful with a coordinating outfit.

I wanted to write about what Sparky got me for Christmas. I was too caught up in holiday traveling to put the thought into dealing with Christmas that I feel like I should (such guilt!), but he did. I ran around, buying things that made me think of him with my main challenges being things he (1) could use and (2) weren't made in China. Anywhere but China. I'll have you know that those cool belt-utility tools that many men have? Most are made in China. You have to go with Swiss Army, or Leatherman (and Leatherman snuck a Made in China pouch in the box).

Meanwhile, he had ordered his gift months ahead of time, directly from China. And it was the perfect gift. Brought tears to my eyes. Any guesses what it was? I'll give you a hint.

Anyway, blah blah blah, love him so much, yadda yadda, rainbows shine when I'm with him. Sigh. So gross. ;)

Huntington

2012-01-07T14:30:00.001-07:00

High of 84 today

2012-01-05T12:22:00.000-07:00

Don't feed the birds

2012-01-01T19:28:00.003-07:00

My mom, step-dad, brother, and fiancee ignoring the sign.

Stating the obvious

2011-12-31T18:05:00.003-07:00

Nirvana in the City of Angels

2011-12-26T14:45:00.001-07:00

Converting to film

2011-12-22T11:35:00.001-07:00

In the same shop I photographed that silly bird thing a few days ago, I came upon an old Canon FBt for a whooping $24. The light meter needle seemed to be working, and the shutter sounded accurate, with a gleaming bright f-1.8 lens and not a scratch on her. I carried her around the store for an hour, and almost forgot I didn't already own it when it was time to pay (I was carrying a camera bag also, after all).

I didn't examine the battery until later. I don't know why I waited. A leaky, icky battery fell out. Ew! I wrapped it in a napkin, after reading what the model number was. A quick internet trip revealed, yay, it's a mercury battery!, and it is so toxic, it isn't made any more. Top that with the fact that these batteries were lower voltage and more stable voltage than alkaline, and because the meters were designed with that in mind, modern alkalines just don't work. But, I found this site, which suggested the 675 hearing aid battery as a replacement. He used a volt-meter and stuff, so you know it's gotta be good. The only modification I made was cutting out a little soda-can circle (I only use Cherry Coke Zero for cameras, FYI) to help make a clean connection with the spring on the door. It fought me for a while, but after S took the battery out and put it back (the exact same way I had it!) it started working.

I will post photos once I finish some rolls, have it developed, then put it on a disk, then upload them to the internet. Whew, I forgot how hard film is!

What's funnier, is I took a bunch of photos yesterday around town, then thought, "These are amazing!"when actually, I have no idea if they are amazing. I also thought I took lots, but came home with the counter on 7. I guess 6 is a lot!

Kat tastic

2011-12-21T13:56:00.001-07:00

More kitsch-tastic

2011-12-19T14:14:00.001-07:00

Ceramic bird plant waterer

2011-12-17T16:32:00.001-07:00

This little bird helps water your plants. You pour the water in his cute, little mouth, then it soaks through the ceramic.

I carried him all over the store before deciding not to get him. I don't know why.

I thought it was clever the way the spike is flattened on one side as is the tail, so you can rest it on the table while you fill it. Also helps fire it in the kiln. I'm totally going to learn how to make these. Now you all know what you're getting for Winter Solstice next year!

Things I would add to my kitsch blog I shouldn't start

2011-12-17T16:26:00.000-07:00

End of semester cake

2011-12-16T16:29:00.001-07:00

The holidays inevitably mean travel. Grading and travel. Activities which can be both rewarding and traumatic. So I reward myself heavily in airports.

I really mean to do my job...

2011-12-15T15:36:00.000-07:00

But the internet is so interesting!

I just found a blog about Kitsch (ok, it's a Tumblr, which means there is no dialogue, context, or attribution. I believe Tumblr is making people stupider), which is fun after recently watching a film explaining Clement Greenberg

I like kitsch all the more. And my house reflects this. So much so, I should start my own kitsch blog. Only I'll credit my sources. And comment on what I like about the images. And I'll relate it to contemporary culture and art? Or at least modern living. Or modernism. Or in opposition to modernism.

Is it obvious I'm avoiding grading?

Update:
And I really need another blog?

Blog redesign

2011-12-12T10:48:00.001-07:00

I redesigned my blog, so I could put in bigger pictures. Yay!
Let me know if it looks weird on your screen (and what screen/browser you have).

I never posted the turkeys

2011-12-12T09:02:00.003-07:00

A few weeks ago, I think it was Thanksgiving weekend, the turkeys came and hung out in my yard. In case you haven't noticed, I'm obsessed with animals in my yard. It is a very normal, suburban yard, but I have a lot of wild life come through. I like it.

So do the cats.

Collecting old photos

2011-12-11T13:42:00.001-07:00

I have been collecting old photographs for about twenty years (OH MY GOD!), but only seriously for about ten. It started when I found a complete photo album at a flea market. It covered the whole length of a woman's (named Nellie) life. It was a fascinating spectrum of life in the early twentieth century, but also was filled with the melancholy of a life that had ended with no one left to reminisce about it. It lead me to start the series, Presence of Absence, in 2003, though I was never able to bring myself to include Nellie in the images. I collect albums, but started focusing on singular images. Even so, I amassed a huge collection... I can't count the number of images I have, but should probably count them in pounds. Even so, a lady doesn't talk about weight.

I swore off collecting not too long ago; I wasn't working on "Presence of Absence" any more, and I didn't have a way to display them, and they were over-flowing the large plastic tub dedicated to them. Except if I saw something special (like a $4 daguerreotype, to round out my Technical History of Photography samples).

But in the last several weeks, I have found some new special images I couldn't stop myself from buying. Here is yesterday's:

This image is from 1910, and is an amazing time-capsule of Art-Nouveau living in a functional setting (as opposed to the decorative, unlived-in illustrations of decor we know the period through). Look at all the patterns! The rug, the wallpaper, the curtains, the couch, the doilies.


The details are charming. The little dog on the geometric-print couch, with the applique pillows (including a flag motif). The photographs stuck in every fame and shelf and even attached to the walls. (Click to see all the fabulous details!)	The beautiful, elaborate wallpaper with the frumpy, gauzy curtains. The Gernsbackian light bulb suspended over the top-heavy goldfish bowl. (Click to see all the fabulous details!)

The piles of player piano rolls, filling the desk in a visual prediction of the future digital desktops riddled with mp3s. The dinged leather shoes with white socks, hovering above the overly-ornate carpet.

I have this idea about how photographs were made in the early 20th-century. Or rather, I'm trying to formulate an idea. When I see images like this one, I can't help thinking there was already a sense of performance art, at least for the camera. I don't think this image could be any more perfect. The blank white siding with the single, small window way-off to the side balanced by the rectangular dark frame of the distant figure standing near the probably-functional prop of the water pump. The random placement of sharp and soft focus points. The mannish-woman hanging the infinitely long line of non-specific laundry (seriously, how many white square patches could one have to clean?).

This series was purchased from the same box in a shop. The three women don't always look like the same people, but they could be. I imagine they are. All the images are the same size and shape, though the first has more distinct black-tones.

Here they are fashionably posed in what I assume is everyday wear. I am also attracted to early home-photography. This age, most people would only have images from a studio, so these are all the more exciting.

Here, the ladies are posed with a shack. What are they doing here? Are they camping? Acting? Reenacting? Site-specific performance art? They each have a hat (the one in the doorway is using it to cover her face). The one on the right is gazing off in thought, though it feels created for the photograph. Is that a decorative dog on that indoor-outside chair? And what an amazing composition.

Here they are again. This time, I can't doubt they are important early performance artists, yet unknown to the history of art and women artists. They are wearing kimonos or bedsheets or curtains. They are posed with a tent, though the cabin is visible in the background. Oddly, none of the women look like the same people to me, so maybe it was a large retreat of artists, creating different tableaus. (There's the dog again, sans bow!)

This photo was from the same box and the same store. It could be the same people, but there is less in common (image size, location, etc.) with the other photos. We should note that this would have been done with a pan of gun-powder to create the flash lighting. Not exactly safe in an enclosed cave.

There are a lot of spooky things in this image, some probably on purpose, and others as accidents. The "2" in the upper right is some kind of light streak (though on first glance, I thought it was marker on the negative), as is the blob in the center. But where did that black happy face on the white dress come from?

For a while, I actively collected images of kids on wheels: kids in trams, kids on bikes, kids in wagons. I saw this kid in a wheel barrow with the goat... couldn't not grab it up too. So I guess I fell off the wagon and started collecting kids on wheels again.

Saturday nights

2011-12-10T23:11:00.001-07:00

He stood there, perfectly still, watching the hamsters. His owner (out of image) was just as still and unattended, reading his newspaper and oblivious to the world.

Indexical deer

2011-12-09T13:13:00.000-07:00

Finally, proof that the deer come in the yard and are the reason my little fence is broken.

*** Also, notice how much of the snow DID melt!

I was kind of hoping we could avoid this issue.

2011-12-08T09:42:00.001-07:00

Dear Winter,

I was thinking maybe you wouldn't be coming by this year. Or at least, you wouldn't be bringing your whole family. It's been chilly, windy, crisp, blustering, all in a very wintery fashion, but your snow-kids have been infrequent and haven't stayed long.

I must say, I was quite surprised to wake up and find they had come and had a party all over my yard (and my uncovered trailer). I was quite impressed by how much they accomplished in one night.

But you know what I think would be really impressive? If it all melted in one night too. That would be something.
Let's see if you can do it!

Another Wednesday, Another Semester

2011-12-07T16:13:00.001-07:00

Another good day is closing, and after tomorrow, another good semester (then finals week, but in terms of classes...).

I'm happy to say the attitude and outlook of the day went much better today. Will strive to carry it into tomorrow. Perhaps I will get some time to work on the game again. I have to come up with ideas for the forest fire level, which, other than a little pause when the wolf turns around real fast, is working well. I want to get it online so you can see it!

My verbal survey about the crossing-the-road section was it is the right amount of difficult, though no one had won it yet. Agree?

Today can end now. Please?

2011-12-06T13:48:00.001-07:00

A series of annoyances. A $500 bill for diagnostics on my trailer, leading to very little actually fixed. Disappointments at work. Frustrations at being long distance. Tensions at being the "dead" week before finals. Anxiety about the holidays (travel isn't as fun as it used to be; maybe it's the criminally negligent taxis I have to rely on in town? Oh, and the 20 lay-overs because the airport is so tiny). Projects crying for my attention, but unanswered. Tried to fix a little thing in my Wolf game and it got bigger. Started a new Wolf game; tried to transfer the working thing to the first one, and instead, it caught the problem. Frustrated my research project is better served by Google Books than my own library. Perturbed there are 50 or so hours of research in and no words written.Annoyed at a student peaking her head in to say, "My lunch isn't agreeing with me, I won't be coming to class."My day isn't agreeing with me; can I play hookey?

is it Tuesday or Wednesday

2011-12-06T08:40:00.001-07:00

All semester, I have been confusing my M/W and T/TH classes. Not the classes themselves. I arrive in the correct locations at the correct times, but I invert the days. As a result, it was Tuesday all day yesterday, as far as I was concerned, even in the last week of the semester. Is it that I have always taught Photography on T/Th? And Monday throws me off? Is it that I normally teach my digital class on M/W? And both those trends hold such strong positions in my psyche, that they can deny reality? I don't know. Next semester, all my classes are T/Th. I think I will redo my fall schedule so they fall where they are supposed to.

Creative Commons grey-scales

2011-12-04T12:31:00.001-07:00

I was looking for more music last night for the newest installment of my wolf piece. (Don't get excited; it's no where near done.) I was using a site called http://freemusicarchive.org/, which is a very cool database of billions of songs you can listen to and download. Cool! They are all licensed under Creative Commons (but don't let it fool you, as it did me!), so you can post them on your blog, give them to other people, whatever. I found two songs I loved, perfect for the mood of my game: No Words for Green Blues and There is a Wolf. I was so pleased by these songs and to be promoting these artists by crediting them in my work. Unfortunately, I was listening to these songs in list view. The links above are to the song pages, which clarify what niche of the Creative Commons License these artists want to use. If you look at the fine print, it says, "No Derivative Works", which usually means no remixing, but probably includes using it in your art game. I was crushed.

And as much as I like the FMA website, there is no link to contact the artist for permission, and there is no way to search within categories for songs you can remix. (You can search by word and license, but not category. Dumb.)

So I scrapped that site for my project. I wanted to get the songs down ASAP, since I was, in good faith, following the copyright, but when I realized I wasn't, immediately remedied it.

My game has two new songs now. They are good, but not exactly the same vibe I was going for before. And I appreciate Dan-O for his free music, but grind my teeth he requests you credit his music "Free Royalty Free Music by Dan-O". Free-royalty-free sounds like a joke-phrase. Oh well.

Poll: did the game get too hard? I'm having trouble beating it, and I used to be able to all the time. Can you win it?

Sneak peak:

Constantly checking IPs

2011-12-01T16:02:00.001-07:00

Amazing I finally get a few show proposals out (after taking 3 years off from applying) that I'm already hooked on checking the IP visits and hit counts on my website EVERY HOUR!!!!

Want to mess with me? Have all your friends come visit my site and check out a couple random pages throughout the day.

3D Kristen-Heads!

2011-12-01T10:39:00.001-07:00

Proof that Cat Memes have always been in fashion

2011-11-30T19:50:00.001-07:00

C.E. Bullard, "In the Rogue's Gallery", Photo-Era Magazine, 1898

Update:
Remember this is PRE-Photoshop, PRE-Laser light toys, and PRE-Petsmart.

Holiday Card

2011-11-29T13:23:00.001-07:00

Deer: vintage, from my personal collection
Buildings, trees, light posts and cliff: photos by me, printed and cut out (I'm embarrassed to say that step alone took 2-3 hours)
Snow: shredded cotton balls (no snow on the ground yet), with help from Reba and Ashley
Scarves: all Ashley

Raking leaves and picking up rotting fruit is overrated.

2011-11-27T14:57:00.001-07:00

Because if you leave them on the ground, the turkeys come dig through the leaves to eat the fruit! Now I want to take out my lawn and go all-natural... Did I mention I had deer tracks last week?

UPDATE
Pictures!

All is well

2011-11-24T23:19:00.001-07:00

The turkey came out about an hour later than i expected. I was nervous the whole time, but the appetizers and soup held everyone over (plus, for many, I was their second stop), and they kids were enthusiastic with charades and Scrabble. I'm glad I kept the old Scrabble board.

My turkey was beautiful... juicy, tender, flavorful. The only hiccup was I forgot the green beans in the fridge.

Other notes:
- While the pinwheels tasted good, they were gross to make, and looked like little mutant things. There is clearly a technique that was left out of the instructions that was vital to their creation.
- I got so nervous with the turkey, that I overcooked the stuffing a tiny bit. Not too bad, but I shouldn't do that.
- Tiny burns (on my body) seem to be inevitable. Take the time to ice them.
- Guests won't bring wine unless you ask them. That last-minute jumbo-jug is worth it, but you should make them pitch in. Lazies.
- All Thanksgivings have someone who drinks too much and does something embarrassing (OK, in my family, they didn't need to drink too much to do the embarrassing thing); bonus if one of your guests brings the embarrassing person as a date, so you know you never have to see them again and can make fun of them indiscriminately.

All in all, an awesome first dinner. I missed having a formal "grace"... I miss taking a moment to think of the people not at the table, since there were so many not at the table for me this year.

Two of my students came. One said she never liked stuffing or cranberry sauce until now. The other said his earlier dinner was "unspiced" compared to mine; that his was more meant for old people, while mine was more flavorful. Worst part about getting old and still having to eat.

Oh, and pumpkin rice pudding is the bomb.

a work in progress.

2011-11-24T15:43:00.001-07:00

1. Brinning (all night)

2. Washing

3. Cooking

4. Ready to eat!

mostly...

2011-11-24T13:18:00.001-07:00

Chester the Poinsettia.

woke up later than i should to go photograph, but it happened. yay!
didn't get the coffee.
have sweet potatoes
cooking rice pudding (about a half hour behind schedule... so that means the turkey will be a little behind too)
i did make the tables!

Dining room table

Supplemental table in the sunroom. Notice I moved the record player in! If only I had some Xmas albums.
The irony is, those are the most common albums in thrift shops, but I haven't bought any.

This is the beverage and appetizer bar. There will be soup and pinwheels here!

Scott's helping!

So that's about it. I have the rice pudding and the roast veggies cooking now. I'm charging the batteries for the Wii, in case the kids want to do that. I will also put out Yahtzee and some cards.

I feel like I'm forgetting something big. Other than the turkey. :/

I've been collecting vintage deer... they are very festive.

This morning's shoot was quick, but neat. More on that when I get the picture scanned.

Small successes

2011-11-23T22:51:00.001-07:00

I know the biggest disappointment for the Thanksgiving cook is for the dishes to not be warm when they are served. This is something I am conscious of, having a small kitchen and oven, and many warm dishes to serve. Not to mention not killing the guests with the turkey. It's a lot to think about.

What got accomplished:

Stuffing is all ready to go, just needs to cook. I'm hoping it can kind of cook on the short shelf above the turkey.
Mashed potatoes are all done. Just reheat tomorrow. I held back some of the cream, to use tomorrow to wake them back up. The recipe is specifically for Bleu Cheese Mashed Potatoes, but since there are kids coming, I'm going to hold the cheese back. It will be in a bowl with a spoon for guests to add as they please.
Roasted veggies are ready to go, just need to cook, save for the main ingredient which SOMEONE never brought me today. I may or may not start biting my nails.
Turkey still in salt water. In the fridge, so as not to kill people.

Unexpected:

Despite pre-cleaning the kitchen, I have to clean it again. I already told you about the E. coli juice spill. The food keeps making a run for it and hitting the floor. So I mopped again. I expect I will wash the counters in the morning before starting again. The dishwasher is running (did I mention I have a fork shortage? And glassware, apparently).
Already filled up one trash bag. And drank one bottle of wine. I hope they guests bring more!

In the morning:

Drink coffee.
Seek the sweet potatoes at all cost!
Turn on ice maker
Retrieve tripod from office and go photograph runners.
Make tables.
Drink wine.
Bring chairs in from shed. Clean as needed.
Don't forget to shower. Maybe some nice clothes and make-up?

In the afternoon:

Shove turkey in oven around 1:30PM
Start pumpkin rice pudding, 3PM (um, what the heck am I cooking this in?)
Drink wine.
Roll out pastry and cheese and spinach for appetizers, 4ish (fridge till ready)
Figure out where to shove roasted veggies, 4PM (or cook in the morning and leave on the heat?)
Shove stuffing in oven around 4:30PM (stir rice pudding)
Figure out how to heat up mashed potatoes 5PM
Heat soup in saucepan, 5PM
Cook pinwheel appetizers, 5PM
Light candles
Drink wine
Put cranberry sauce in pretty bowl, 5:15PM
Take pinwheels out of oven
Steam green beans, 5:15PM
Fill water pitcher.
Put salt, pepper, bowl of bleu cheese on table
Don't forget to make gravy, even though I'm not that into it, 5:30ish
Drink wine and be charming.
Don't forget to photograph the table of food and people eating, for the Prison Project! (Yes, someone chose Thanksgiving... once a year opp! I missed the Halloween opp for the other woman...)

Gift ideas for me:

more casserole dishes, preferably pretty ones
bowls that are infinitely deep so food won't try to escape
forks

Slow live blogging

2011-11-23T20:42:00.001-07:00

OK, OK. I've already been caught slacking. I had some paper-work things to do that I wanted to get done before the weekend... and I am aware I am supposed to do most of the cooking tomorrow, and have the terrifying battle with trying to serve 100 things all at once (and hot!) when I only have one stove...

Is it procrastinating, or is it acknowledging I can't do it today?

What I DID do:
Cut up the onions, celery and herbs for the stuffing.
Toasted the cornbread cubes for the stuffing.
Cooked and chopped bacon for stuffing.
Turkey is still brining.

About to do:
Go scrub potatoes and carrots
Dice potatoes, carrots, red onions, brown onions for the roast veggies and mashed taters.
Read directions for rice pudding to see if I can make it now.

I didn't rake.

And I have to take a picture of runners at the Turkey Race tomorrow. It's the only race I have been able to find. It's in the morning, so I think if I get down there, set up, shoot the winners, then jet, I should only lose an hour. I have to take a pic of my actual dinner too... two more prison pics tomorrow!

Turkey cooking so far:

2011-11-23T12:37:00.001-07:00

A reminder on the menu:

Cheese and spinach pastry swirls
Squash soup
Green beans
Cranberry sauce
Wine gravy
Bleu cheese mashed potatoes
Roasted vegetables with garbanzo beans and sweet potatoes
Cornbread stuffing with sundried tomatoes
Herbed free-range turkey
Creamy pumpkin rice pudding

So far:
- Made cornbread (from scratch!) for stuffing
- Made bacon for stuffing
- Brining turkey
- Sending harassing email to friend who promised to give me sweet potatoes (you know who you are! :) )

Live Blogging Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T11:31:00.001-07:00

There is probably a more efficient way to do this, but I am planning on updating the blog in-progress of my first Thanksgiving Day cooking attempt.

I haven't charged the SLR in a while, and I've misplaced my Point-n-Shoot, so this is with the
web-cam.... but doesn't it look homey in my living room? Notice I put up festive deer in the upper left!

Early observations:

The fact it's Wednesday gives me undo confidence that I have lots of time to prepare. I casually looked at the brining bag directions (I plan to brine the bird) and see I should brine two hours for each pound of bird. OK, that's math, so let's see.... my bird is about 15.5 pounds, so that's 31 hours... and I'm supposed to cook the bird 4 hours (unstuffed), which comes to 35 hours (assuming 3500 ft above sea level doesn't affect cooking time too much)... so, if I want the bird to come out of the oven tomorrow at 5:30 to start it's half hour resting period, I need to start brining.... four hours ago!

Luckily, the brining is something I can cut short. I'm not supposed to cut the cooking time short. I know that much. ;) 26 hours is plenty of time to sit in salt and sugar water (YUM).

Another observation:

I believe it is all hostess's goal to not kill their guests. Maybe this goes without saying. But the process that goes into one not killing one's guests is a behind-the-scenes often undervalued set of rituals.

To pull my bird from it's tightly formed plastic casing, I dawned disposable gloves that I might be more self-conscious about the placement of my hands. I did pre-clean the whole kitchen, remember, so in theory, the kitchen cannot kill anyone right now.

I set out the measuring cup to start dumping my water into the bringing bag (enough to cover the bird, but you have to count how many cups go it, to know how much salt to add [more math... 1 cup of salt to 4 cups of water, up to half the salt can be substituted with sugar]; I counted 38 cups). Then, you are supposed to take out some of the water to heat to dissolve the salt and sugar. I removed 8 cups to put in my saucepan (the bird in the bag is resting in the roasting pan, my only pan big enough to hold them), and as I turn, the bag tips about 2 cups of raw-bird water all over the counter and the measuring cups sitting there.

So much for not killing the guests.

Just kidding. I soaked it all up and cleaned again. By the time I was done, my salt was dissolved and ready to cool to be added back to the bag.

Bullying

2011-11-22T20:06:00.001-07:00

I was listening to NPR while cleaning for the holiday guests (and drinking wine), and there was a long segment about bullying. It eventually got too upsetting, so I changed it to pop music. (This may have something to do with the fall of our society, but I will leave that post to be written by someone else.) Bullying is something we've been hearing more about lately. There has been a lot of attention paid to gay children and teens targeted by bullies, particularly those who committed suicide as a result. Tonight's story pointed out how the common targets of bullies are students perceived to be gay, overweight or the disabled. In my experience, bullies like anyone different, and as Sesame Street taught us, there is something different about all of us. Of course, some of those differences we try to hide, and some of those differences don't really set us apart ("Oh, you are particularly pretty?" "Oh, you are unusually confident?") as much as others (such as those listed by NPR).

So I thought I would share two stories, because at this time in my life, I've done very well and have a self-confidence my child-hood self probably never predicted. And I want to speak to that little girl, because she was brave AND did some cool things too, things I can still say I stand for and behind.

In seventh grade, for some reason, my mother moved me to the most dangerous and gang-riddled school I'd ever attend. There were a lot of personal things going on at the time too, like her remarriage, our moving away from good friends I had finally made (I was always a little shy and awkward... you can see the foreshadowing already), so having the strength to deal with this adjustment in both academic expectation and bravado... well, it didn't happen. I went from being in a place where I was averagely-smart to a place I was freakishly-smart, and that set me apart in ways my peers were not happy to deal with. I also went from a mostly-white school to a very mixed school. This did not have the result you would expect. To the extent I was able to make friends, I could be friends with the "minority" students, but the white girls seemed exceptionally threatened by me and eventually became the biggest threats/bullies to my everyday existence. The climax of these interactions was a blond girl who threatened to kill me for a manufactured wrong-doing on my part. She punched my head through the window on the bus, screaming, "you're dead." The next day, a brunette I'd never seen before casually asked me about the incident, and I told her I didn't know what had happened. She ran back to the blond shouting, "see?! She doesn't know!" I'm sure she was trying to help, trying to be the diplomat. The blond seethed at me across the PE field.

Somehow, she got my phone number. I was a latch-key kid and had about 4 hours or so to myself after school. The phone would ring constantly during those hours. She would threaten me when I answered. I started hanging up. Pick-up, hang-up. It went on for hours. By the time my mom got home, I was broken. We weren't speaking much in those days, but she pressed me when I was more awkward than usual. I finally told her. She went to the principal the next day, who called us both in the office. I feared the retribution. She denied everything.

Later, I saw the vice-principal on my own and begged him to switch me to a different period PE class. At first he said no. I didn't want to tell him about the bully. I thought he would tell me I needed to confront her. So I told him about my parent-situation, and said I wanted to spend more time with my friend in the other period, before I moved. I cried excessively. He finally relented, but probably never wondered why I was so upset over such a small reason.

Years earlier, I think in second grade, I was even more awkward, if you can imagine. In those days, girls invited all the girls in their class to their parties, so it was less obvious. Even though I went to their parties, we didn't play at school. But there was one girl who was always nice to me on the playground, nice to everyone; I can't remember her name, so let's call her Rose. I think she was younger. I had an obsession with Garfield at the time (I know, lame. But we didn't have much in the 80s, ok?!). Rose made up elaborate stories about having a cat named Garfield who was just like the comic character (lazy and lasagna-loving), and her Garfield was in love with her other cat, and then she had a big wedding for the cats (in today's internet climate, this would be really normal). I knew it was bogus, but I never questioned it. I knew she made it up for me, to make me happy, to make me like her. How could you not go along?

Rose was in the special education class. She was what we would call Mentally Disabled, but the kids called her Retarded. She was so sweet she didn't often see it coming, see the difference between the mean, dangerous kids, and the kids that were nice or indifferent. It's the only time I remember both classes playing on the playground at the same time.

I knew at the time that, by playing with Rose, I lost credibility among my peers (what little I had) because I was nice to her and played with her on the swings. (In my opinion, she was more fun on the swings than the other kids, because it was about having fun on the swings. With the other kids, it was a competition to see who could swing highest or jump off at the highest point, which scared the heck out of me. With Rose, it was just about how fun it was to swing; no pressure.) But it never seemed right, what they did. They would chase her into the bathroom, which, everyone knew was haunted by Bloody Mary. It was scary. It was they only place she could hide. I called them stupid for chasing her, and I stayed her friend when they turned on me. I'd hide with her in the bathroom, even though I was scared of Bloody Mary. She'd tell me everything was alright.

I was her only friend outside her class. The next year, they put me in the upper-level playground. I never saw her again.

I wonder where she is now, if she's alive, if she's happy. I'm OK that she wouldn't remember me. I hope people are being nice to her, for the sweet soul she is. And I'm glad I wasn't an asshole when I was a kid.

Holidays

2011-11-19T21:30:00.001-07:00

Sometime in my twenties, Thanksgiving became my favorite holiday. I don't know how or why. Everyone else likes Christmas or Halloween, and they certainly have their high-points, but I really like Thanksgiving. I don't look forward to it, necessarily, and I tend to not make plans because of how busy this time of the semester is... but once I manage to figure it out, I'm really excited about it.

This year, I am cooking the whole thing. I've cooked before, but only for two, and that tended to be an abbreviated meal (game hens or chickens). I usually bring a dish to others' meals. I've made squash soup (from scratch), cornbread stuffing (also scratch), green beans, pumpkin pie (from pumpkins), and mashed potatoes.

I'm nervous, but excited. I'm not even sure who all is coming, but I bought several hundred dollars of ingredients today. My house was sort of designed to have limited guests, so I'm trying to figure out how to move furniture to maximize company. (It's hard enough to cook without help, but I can't figure out how to move furniture alone...)

Anyway, here is my menu:

Cheese and spinach pastry swirls
Squash soup
Green beans
Cranberry sauce
Wine gravy
Bleu cheese mashed potatoes
Roasted vegetables with garbanzo beans and sweet potatoes
Cornbread stuffing with sundried tomatoes
Herbed free-range turkey
Creamy pumpkin rice pudding

And if I have time,
Carmel apple upside down cornmeal cake.

I had to buy a roasting pan, a turkey baster, a carving board and a basting bag today. Also bought some extra plates and bowls for surprise guests, and a cheery burgundy and gold flowery table cloth. I found a couple cute serving bowls at the thrift shop too. (I inherited a crazy number of serving platters... they don't match, so I've never used them all, but I don't have very many serving bowls. I got a hold of some Wagner ones last year that I love... all contemporary bowls look boring now.)

The part I'm least excited about is cleaning the house. I have let it slide for a while, so it's not going to be pretty. SIGH.

++++Update++++

I've been cleaning! The house is starting to look great again! I dug out the table leaves and used them for the first time. Unfortunately, the table cloth I bought is actually a runner, so I'm returning it and using my grandma's old linens with some doilies or something to break it up. I wanted to buy matching place-mats, then decided a heavy-patterned table cloth would be more fun (and with place-mats $5 each, more economical!).

Turkey Season

2011-11-15T20:43:00.001-07:00

On my way to work (running on time but cutting it close to give a talk to visiting high school students), I saw this flock of turkeys by my building. It's still weird/unique to see the crazy-natural beasts around here. I think when you are from the city, it's easy to forget certain animals live in the wild anymore. Antelope, moose, turkeys, wolves. Are there wild cows anymore? Or chickens? They probably look very different than the beasts we were taught about in Pre-School, but not the elegant turkey. They look exactly as you remember them. Well, no. They look more graceful, but when they are trying to scare off other birds or flirt with girls, they look like turkeys. It's cool.

There is a tickle

2011-11-15T13:00:00.001-07:00

it isn't on my nose, on my heel, on my ear or my neck. It is in my throat.

Less a tickle than a constriction.

A pressure.

A gag.

How can I be coming down with something again? How can I spend so long illness-free, then catch something before my other thing is even gone?

Is this what I get for throwing myself into my job?

Procrasturbating

2011-11-11T23:19:00.001-07:00

I used to update my website every fall, during job-application season. When I got my tenure track-job, I stopped updating the site. A terrible habit to have fallen into! I justified it with the amount of blog activity ("hey, I'm working. I'm documenting it on the blog!")

But enough is enough!

I was planning on doing a major redesign to streamline the updating process, but my web-host has been a jerk this week... so I decided to simplify what I have, and I am very happy with my results. It is uploading as I type this (will I type longer than it will take?).

The pros: it uses pictures rather than titles to separate out projects. Not everyone knows the name of a project, so they should be able to look at what they want now.

The cons: well, I didn't update all the old stuff... there were some projects that I just didn't feel belonged on the site anymore.

The pros: fewer pages and links, so easier to update!

The cons: I took out the categories I added at my last redesign, so you could see all the photo work, the performance work, the new media work, etc. Now, you just click the picture of the work you are interested in, regardless of project.

I never knew how I felt about sites that separated projects by media. Who cares what the media is? Seeing my work as little pictures, I am struck that the look of my work changes a lot between media or even projects. But that's ok, right?

It still isn't up... but chances of one of my followers checking at 11:30PM on a Friday night are slim.

Check it in the morning, at Kristen S. Wilkins

Things that are ugly anywhere other than Montana.

2011-11-08T23:11:00.000-07:00

I can't tell you how much I want this table. It's funky, mid-century, and woodsy all rolled into one. I think it will look great in my house. Picturing it outside this state? Having trouble with that one.

The throws of winter (ok, just getting started)

2011-11-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

I can't believe our first snow fall stuck! And it snowed enough to accumulate several inches, then got warm enough that it's all turned to ice.

I finished my 3rd game ever! (if you count the prototype game I made for "Stake Your Claim") It seems to be worked great, except for a few weird things that happen when I put it online. You are welcome to check it out! http://www.kristenwilkins.net/wolf/

After much hair-pulling, I got a loading bar running. I would like the animation on it to be cuter. And I would like a cute bonus-animation for winning. But as a prototype, I am very happy with it. I was playing with the spectrum of apathy-empathy-sympathy-melancholy-joy... but I think it leans towards the melancholy more. My goal is to add more joy. :)

After two years of not updating my website (not even adding new work! there's nothing up there about my games or trailer or performance or prison work!!!), I am beginning a redesign with WordPress. I'm hoping to launch by the beginning of December. I'm a little daunted by the process... changing the whole structure, updating images (so they are bigger), but in the long run, it should be easier to update, easier to navigate, and that's a good thing.

Dreaming of endangered wolves

2011-11-06T23:35:00.000-07:00

I have spent the better parts of the last three weeks working on an artist residency application working with wolves. As part of the application, I thought, "oh, I should make a little game to show them what my piece might look like in the end." Yeah, that's the part that has taken the better part of three weeks.

Now it's almost done, I am pretty proud of it. I have one (major) technical issue before releasing it. How ironic that I've made something that seems to be BUG-FREE!!!!, yet loads slowly online, and seems to refuse to accept a loading-bar. You go to the website, then stare at a blank screen, questioning your life and its purpose, and then after a minute, a conservation-oriented, guilt-inducing game appears.

It's the blank screen I find problematic. And maybe that guilt thing.

Once I solve the loader issue, I will post the link. I bit the bullet after days of struggling and posted to a message board. Scary.

In case you aren't sick enough...

2011-10-18T11:06:00.000-06:00

actually, I'm not. That's the conclusion I came to this morning. I am sick, but not sick enough to call in sick, and not well enough to be fully present in my job. Maybe I am sick enough to call in sick, but I struggled terribly through yesterday, knowing it could go either way, but knowing if I missed today, things would actually start to fall behind.

Do you ever listen to little voices in your head? I mean the non-fever induced ones. Last fall, I decided to replace the two pathetic smoke detectors in my house with five new ones. I was quickly pulled into the cyclone of smoke detector models and features. The last time I bought them, I had bought the cheapest ones possible (to sell my house). This time (to live in my house), I was a little more picky. (Let that be a lesson for you.)

There was a kind that was labeled to be especially for the kitchen. It has some kind of photo-sensor, meaning, it will only go off if there is smoke it can see. In theory, it won't go off as often as a regular one in the case of over-cooked food. Then there was a "dual smoke and carbon monoxide detector". It was a whooping $40 (compared to the $6 ones I put in the house I sold). I had a CO detector in that house too. It was constantly eating up its battery and going off in the middle of the night, despite being the plug-in variety. I got rid of it.

But last fall, I heard a little voice. I should get this one. After much back and forth (I tend to pinch pennies), I talked myself into the expensive thing (just one!) and decided to put it in the living room, central to the house, so I could get my money's worth out of it.

When it went off Saturday morning, my fever having broken the morning before (by then, I had been in bed for a full 60 hours), I bleary-eyed-stumbled to the living room, got on a chair to stare at it. "Beep beep beep beep. Warning. Carbon Monoxide," it insisted. It was loud. I banged on it, somehow not able to hit the "Hush" button. I pulled it off the wall, pulled out the battery, replaced it. I thought, OK, if it goes off again, I'll know it's real. There was lots of text on the back. I could make out "1.....2....3...." but couldn't see what the steps said. The light was dim, and I was bleary-eyed, so I didn't think much of it. I put it back on the wall and went back to bed.

The alarm didn't go off again.

But the little voice nagged me. "Doesn't that freak you out?" Within a few minutes, I had downloaded the user manual to read about the CO detector. Something about how soon it would go off after reading so many parts per million over time. Over time? So it might not go off again for six hours? I got up and opened several windows a crack. The nagging continued.

The manual said, "go outside, and call the fire department, gas company, or a furnace repairer to do an inspection."

Go outside? But I'm sick.

"Symptoms of CO poisoning include headache, dizziness, and nausea."

I have all those. But I also have the flu.

Maybe there is a non-emergency number?

OK, so I call. And I wait outside in the car.

The firemen were very nice and kept insisting it was probably a low battery on my detector. I feebly said, but it has a different voice and number of beeps for a low battery. "Nah, nah, it's probably a low battery." As they stepped into the front door with their own detectors, their own equipment went off. They turned around and came back out. "Yup, you have carbon monoxide. Let's put you on oxygen while we air out your house. We'll get your cats and put them in your car."

Then they asked me about calling someone from somewhere to look for the leak. I couldn't quite fathom what they were talking about. They said, "Want us to call?" and I said, yes.

Later they said the highest concentrations seemed to be in my bedroom. Where I'd spent the last 60 hours. Which is a full 60 feet from the CO detector.

After they aired it out, after the gas inspector couldn't find a leak, after I went to the doctor and had a blood test confirming acute CO poisoning (but not bad enough to stay for more oxygen, unless I wanted to), I went to the hardware store and bought another CO detector for my bed room.

More Landscapes!

2011-10-08T22:35:00.000-06:00

"A waterfall"

"An old caboose. I love trains."

"Rushing water"

"The river. Anything pretty."

"A cross"

"The Yellowstone River. I like to fish."

"Libby is my home town. I miss everything about it."

"I would like a picture of Dancing Boy, in Arlee, Montana."

Cliches that drive me nuts

2011-10-08T12:01:00.000-06:00

There are two phrases that really bristle my hide in art venues (whether museum or classroom).

1. "S/he really thinks outside the box."
This is a silly phrase. By definition, all art should be outside the box. The box is reserved for boring ad agencies with no vision, who probably produce the majority of the thousands of images we see every day. In my mind, someone who says the above is really pointing out that they mostly live in the box.

2. "That person sure has a lot of time on their hands."
Why do people say this? An artist makes a living making art. By definition, they spend 40-60 hours a week on a project; many also employ assistants who also spend 40-60 hours a week on the project. They work hard; they get paid. Like all jobs, that's how it works. You work hard to earn your paycheck (while hopefully finding challenge and satisfaction in whatever your desired outcome is). No one looks at your work at the end of the day and says, "Gosh, you sure had a lot of time on your hands." I don't go to the supermarket, note all the bananas are parallel, and all the canned goods' labels are facing out and comment, "gosh, these supermarket employees sure have a lot of time on their hands." None of my students look at my slideshows and say, "gosh, you sure have a lot of time on your hands." But then again, many are too dense to know it might take me five hours to prepare their one hour lecture.

Here are some pieces I show that commonly receive that response:

Artist: Blü creates stop-motion animations using the real world and graffiti

Artist: Sandy Skoglund (click on pic for her site) creates elaborate installations
with sculptures and sets, then creates photographs of models interacting with that space.

Artist: Ai Weiwei with his installation of 100 million hand-made sunflower seeds

Artist: Joeseph Delappe walked 240 miles on a treadmill hooked to a video game
(with a character who looked like Gandhi) in homage to Gandhi's peace march to the Salt Satragraha

1200 miles in three days

2011-10-04T10:58:00.000-06:00

I love weird town names.

I took pictures of horses. Yes I did.

This is Berkeley Pit, in Butte, MT. It is a Superfund site, meaning a site so toxic and dangerous, the Federal Government has it on a list as requiring extra money to clean up. Apparently, this 1800 foot deep pit was mined for copper from the 1950s-1970s. They had a pump that kept the water out, but after they stopped mining, they didn't want to pay to run the pump any more so "let the water fill in the mine to preserve it for future mining." Meanwhile, the water continues to rise and will soon be at the level of the water table (2020), at which time, everyone in town will be poisoned. The educational recording at the site assured us that those facts I read on the Federal Superfund website are false, and it is perfectly safe.

Here is a pretty waterfall. This trip was filled with my attempt to photograph cliché things I
would never normally photograph. There is a knack to it I just don't have, but I gave it a try.

Close up of the water.

From the American Museum... essentially, two certifiable hoarders collected everything from mousetraps to military aircraft and crammed it onto an acre lot. For five dollars, you can look at their massive collection, which includes such strange and interesting curatorial decisions as, mousetraps in comparison to excessive taxation and what makes the country great. Or something. For $5, an amazing freak show of interesting antiques.

When traveling, you will see many beautiful things. Often, there will also be signs letting you know there is a "scenic" thing in the next pull-out. We found the scenic pullout usually was an obstructed view of the pretty thing. But We took the pictures anyway. This is Flathead Lake, made from two photos.

We pulled into Libby, MT right at sunset. There was no time to scout a location, then this giant eagle appeared.
Seemed like fate! Also, if you click on the enlarged view, you can see a Cadillac on a Stick in the background.

We stayed in Thompson Falls on Saturday night. Thompson Falls was named
for the waterfall, Thompson Falls, which they damned over 100 years ago.

Spontaneous Roadtrip

2011-10-01T09:33:00.000-06:00

More about the trip later.

Tenure Reviews

2011-09-24T13:43:00.000-06:00

For those outside academia, you may not know the process a new professor goes through to become an old professor. It is a bureaucracy-laden process, and if it isn't done correctly (along with all the things you have to be doing well in order to do the process), you will go from being a new professor to the ascetic who lives in the van down by the river.

From Hyperbole and a Half

This process happens several times over the first few years of a new professor's career. How many times depends on the university and how burdened that university has made itself with bureaucracy (from the university's perspective, this gives them a chance to "catch a bad egg" sooner and get them out of there, or make sure that a professor in on track).

Most universities ask you to do this twice: in your third year and your sixth year. If you pass both times, you get to move into the process of becoming an old professor and may never have to go through the process again. Some universities may ask you to check in every five or ten years, but many don't. That's how you get some really amazing, challenging, avant-garde professors, and some boring, offensive, uninspired professors. The idea is: academics are meant to be challenging to the status quo and ask questions that might make the society at large uncomfortable. The system was designed so that such a professor couldn't be fired by a chancellor who was under pressure from angry lobbyists. Unfortunately, it also means bad professors are hard to get rid of. And also unfortunately, it means new professors try to NOT be challenging to the status quo, as some of that quo might be reviewing them for tenure. I believe these non-boat-rockers are more likely to go on to be bad, lazy old professors.

From Wiki, Public Domain, cause it's OLD

It's a weird snake eating its tail.

My university is riddled with ~~bureaucracy~~ checks and balances, so I get to do the review every year. Luckily, they don't give me any kind of proper procedure manual or guidelines, so I get to discover how to do the process myself. Also luckily, they hire so few new faculty every year, there are not many mentors around to cloud my judgement on how to proceed. They do tell me that odd years are "abbreviated reviews" and even years are "extended reviews". I understand that extended reviews involve more people looking at my materials than abbreviated reviews, but I believe the materials I submit are the same. We'll see if they tell me I did it wrong in a few weeks.

Going through a review means assembling a single or series of binders filled with neat things like syllabi and student evaluations and articles into sections under the headings: teaching, scholarship, and service. Again, which things go under which tabs seems to be entirely up to me! Yay! I've started printing out lots of images of all my students' works to give the reviewers something pretty to look at.

My review last year went well, despite a rough first semester filled with too heavy a teaching load, students with low expectations getting whip-lash from my high expectations, neglected facilities, angry co-workers, new bureaucracy to deal with, new town, etc., etc. This year, I have many new things to add to my binders (it has over-flowed one binder this year... again, we'll see if they like that later!), such as exhibition announcements, new classes, new works, workshops I'm giving, etc.

There are other things my reviewers last year requested I add that are more abstract, such as a "research agenda and timeline." I can understand this for a science experiment ("Ask a question, form a study, evaluate the results, present the results, get them published or present them at a conference"), but for art... well... it seems silly ("make some art, show the art, make art that's better than the last art"). But it does force me to sit down and reflect on these aspects of my career.

How DO I feel about my teaching process? Last semester, I had an observer in class (another thing I do know I am supposed to do... not much else I know, but I know this!), and he commented that he didn't understand what I was saying about "forming and documenting your own, underground culture" in relation to images I was showing them, but they did. It was late in the semester in my beginning photography class, and they did... they loved it... they got it. I know they wouldn't have gotten it at the beginning of the semester, but at the end they did. How do I get from Point A--not knowing-- to Point B--knowing? Writing it down is time-consuming, but it does become a task list to make sure I can do it again.

I made this to advertise my performance. Scan it with
your smart-phone barcode reader to see what it says!

And what about my art? Do I need to show it more? Are my ideas important (a question I prefer to ignore...)? How am I balancing "making" with "showing"? Honestly, last year, I had no balance. I was just teaching. No making. No showing. I felt a little dead inside for it, too. This year, I am starting out with goals which I have written down and put in my binder. Now I have accountability.

And my service? How is that doing? How do my actions as an advisor affect my students, and what role does that play in both our careers? Am I simply signing them up for classes and making sure the club doesn't spend all their money on popcorn?

Anyway, these are the questions filling my weekend as I fill my binders with clear-plastic sleeves and print-outs of images and millions of tabs and pages of mental ramblings on my professor-process.

Seeing the future in the cat

2011-09-21T22:04:00.000-06:00

Before school started, I watched the show "Dirt" on Netflix. It was getting pretty interesting before it was unceremoniously cancelled. It is about a celebrity gossip magazine and the woman who runs it. Her top photographer happened to also be schizophrenic which lead to a few plot topics. After some bad "trips", he decides to go back on his medication. A night or two after, he is lying in bed, when his cat, Tristan, addresses him (as he had done a few times over the 1.5 seasons): "You know what normal means? It means you don't get to talk to your cat anymore." The character handles it well enough, though all I could feel in response to the scene was aching loneliness. The character was already isolated by his social awkwardness and being alone; taking away his talking cat just seemed cruel. And I thought briefly to myself, I wish I was just a little schizophrenic, because I would like it if the cats talked to me.

("Dirt" sort of died because of the writers' strike, as did many shows. On the other hand, Courtney Cox went on to start "Cougar Town" which, despite a tacky and embarrassing title, is one of the funniest shows I've ever seen.)

The show I replaced "Dirt" with is "Medium." "Medium," of course, is about a woman who sees the future, or symbolic representations of it, in her dreams. Sometimes, she also sees and talks to ghosts. Just as I responded to the cat, Tristan, I was jealous of the Medium and have longed to have conversations with departed souls. This is a problem for me, since I don't really believe in departed souls. Just goes to show, you can want things that aren't real just as sincerely as the ones that are. So I have been wanting this fictional ability the last few weeks, as I have watched this show. Wanting is probably not enough to develop supernatural metaphysical powers, but I'm giving it the ol' college try.

Yesterday, I had to get dressed up for the inauguration of our new chancellor, Roth (a very nice man who came and watched my whole performance on Friday; more than I can say for my colleagues in my own department). I put on a pair of shoes I have never warn, a pair handed down from my mom in "like new" condition. As soon as I put them on, I felt like the right one was telling me it would break. I didn't have another pair that would match the dress and the weather, so I decided to wear them anyway. The feeling was so strong, though, I packed a change of clothes and shoes into my bag.

On cue, as we walked over to the ceremony, the strap of the right shoe broke. I was next to the darkroom, so I ducked in, grabbed electrical tape (only kind in there), and taped the strap to my foot. It mostly held, and later, someone even complimented the shoes, not seeing the black tape holding the back together. I still have the black marks from the tape on my ankle. After lunch, I changed clothes so I wouldn't have to deal with the tape-shoe in class.

The cats aren't talking yet, and I have had no insights from the beyond, but at least I can plan for fashion emergencies.

Buried in work

2011-09-20T21:07:00.000-06:00

I don't think I have spent so many consecutive hours at work/working before. At least, it doesn't seem like it. Part of the issue is having morning classes: if I arrive at 10 or 11 for two afternoon/evening classes, then work till 8, that's one thing. If I arrive at 7 or 7:30 to prepare for morning classes, but still stay till 7, I have plenty of time to go home and work some more before bed. Then, I crawl to bed, glaze-eyed, dream of new lessons to give, and get up at 6 AM again to make them happen. It's strange. I'm exhausted, but have that satisfied feeling from work well-done. (I still maintain my Mr.-Magoo-type confusion and disorder in class; who knows if students can recognize the work I put into preparing for class with my wacky confusion, especially if you are like me and insist on new assignments and slides every term.)

On the weekends, I work on my projects. I run to catch the sun rise or the sunset. (Last weekend also involved a school function.) While my projects give me a different kind of satisfaction, I wonder if I am missing out on the normal "destressing" type activities. They say you should have hobbies to decrease your stress, but if your hobbies are also your work... I can't tell if I have less or more stress.

I can't figure out how a personal life or a family life would fit in.

"I Meant What I Said..."

2011-09-17T09:10:00.000-06:00

Bringing you the good news... whether you're naked or not.

2011-09-15T10:06:00.000-06:00

I saw these "cute little old ladies" walking down the sidewalk from my kitchen window; one was wearing a jaunty purple hat. Right as I was thinking they would have made a cute picture, they turned up my driveway and I realized they had bibles. I was in a bathrobe and a towel, not that I'm ever in a good mood to "hear the good news", no matter how cute the little old lady....one looked up and probably saw me in my towel as I was rinsing my hard boiled eggs.I ducked and squatted on the kitchen floor to wait till they left, cursing that I haven't started my fall habit of closing the dining room blinds at night.

They rang the bell several times, pounded on the door in a way you wouldn't think little old ladies could. When I thought they must have gone, they pounded again a full minute later. I had started to stand back up, assuming they left, the purple hat one came around and peaked in the kitchen window!

I ducked again. Not even cute little old ladies can make me answer the door if I'm in my bathrobe and not in the mood. I don't care how many dirty looks they give me!

"I Meant What I Said When I Said It"

2011-09-15T00:17:00.001-06:00

Preparing Installation

Live in the Northcutt Steele Gallery this Friday night, inconjunction with the Faculty Exhibition, Kristen Wilkins will present a newperformance work about anxiety, longing and regret. The performance will takeplace within an installation of failed embroidery linens, drawings, photographsof crayon-drawn portraits, and archaic communication equipment, which willremain on view for the duration of the exhibit. Wilkins’ Friday performancewill add components to the installation in a kind of compulsive creationwithout regard to craft. Using the last overhead projector available from AudioVisual Services, she will attempt to complete drawings her father madefifty-five years ago. Interspersed with these live-projector-drawings, Wilkinswill also type free-form poems inspired by framed drawings of happy children.

Rehabilitation

2011-09-13T17:08:00.000-06:00

I love this project. I don't know how other people will feel about it, but I feel like I have learned so much already.

After the shoot this morning, two of the inmates, the volunteer coordinator and I talked about how people struggle in the world, how they can't find resources, how this particular prison gives them those resources.

I went from dreading the day, to looking forward to the opportunities it would provide me and I would provide for others (particularly my students). Hooray!

Monday's mondays

2011-09-12T19:45:00.000-06:00

I love teaching, but it is an energy vampire. I'm home, and all I want to do is watch meaningless television with a glass of wine and some chocolate covered peanuts. Tomorrow, I teach in the afternoon, so Tuesday's should be for sleeping in, right?

Ha.

Tomorrow is my last scheduled shoot at the prison. Everything has been going very smoothly, so I don't expect any problems. If there is time, I will reshoot two of the images I am not happy with, and I will talk with one of the women about the place she asked me to photograph. Hopefully, she will understand. I hate having to change her first choice. But it is... ethically slippery for me.

I'm trying to get as much done as possible before the semester really starts swinging. If you thought I wanted wine, chocolate, and one-hour dramas now, just wait two weeks. As scattered and juggling as I feel now, though, I'm happy to juggle my work and teaching. It is more satisfying than, say, juggling teaching and meetings or cleaning the darkroom, or vacuuming (but I have to fit that in somewhere, too--actually, I REALLY need to clean my gutters; I can see the accumulated crap from the ground). But soon, the meetings will take over and I will struggle to keep them and the teaching going. My work always falls to the side.

This project, however, demands I not allow it to be second fiddle to boring administration. I promised these women these pictures. It would be wrong to fail them. As the volunteer coordinator had told us at the orientation, many of these women have always been betrayed or let down by people; because of this, it is all the more important we keep our words or don't make promises we can't keep. This way, the women can learn trust and cooperation. I like thinking my little project helps them with that too.

Difficult shoot this morning

2011-09-11T09:05:00.000-06:00

I got up early to shoot in the morning light today. As the alarm began to bug me while it was still dark out, I considered canceling the shot I was planning this morning. I knew it would be difficult. It would be sad. But as I lay awake thinking how difficult and sad it would be, I realized I was already awake and may as well attack my task at hand.

The grave site is in the children's section of the cemetery. We'd all like to go through life pretending there isn't one of these sections in every cemetery, but there is. The tradition of embedding a photo on the stone has also come back in fashion, so there were little faces looking up from the ground all around me, many too young to yet open their eyes.

"He is the best thing that happened to me in my life. He was my world."

This shot is the best of the two I took. You can see I didn't get the slide all the way out (which hasn't happened to me yet), and the next shoot was enough minutes later that the light became brighter and harsher. Serendipity or perhaps the little boy's spirit itself created a rainbow lens-flare which I couldn't see in person. It was brighter in this shot, so this image is the one.

Day one of shooting outside the prison

2011-09-10T21:09:00.000-06:00

Pictograph State Park

A significant part of my project with the women in prison, is my finding images that they miss and long for outside. Some of the women have been very specific about where and why a certain place. It's a little strange, and hard to explain to some of them (they come in, sit, and leave with as little interaction as possible). Others "get it" and have places in mind. Others seem pretty ambivalent about it, but will still provide me a great deal of detail.

The Western Heritage Center where I finally decided to stop drinking/using (1995) in from of the transportation exhibit.

Others are a little more vague, and today I set out on a couple of those. I encouraged them to be bossy with me... tell me the time of day, what's in the picture, the time of year! But I don't think these women are used to asking for what they want, or daring to have a dream of the outside. Many will be out soon, so they aren't thinking too hard about it.

A waterfall. I love nature. Anything pretty.

I was wrestling with a couple requests for the Yellowstone River today. Since I have never been a "serious" landscape photographer, I was challenging myself to go during the good light, morning, or evening/sunset. I knew about a trail that went up on the bluffs over the river, and thought that would be a great spot. Having never walked the trail, I didn't know how far it would be and I arrived at 4PM.

My first mistake was thinking of this a photo trip and not a hike. I don't know why I didn't bring water.

My second mistake was arriving so early. Scouting is good, but I had set myself up for a three hour wait. And I am not a person who is good at sitting and waiting patiently for three hours. But in light of my assignment, to take an image for a woman in prison who has nothing but time, it seemed like an appropriate task.

Somehow, staring at that one view, I became convinced it wasn't going to get pretty. I was very thirsty and sure I was burning, and staring down several hundred feet at the meandering, cool water. It felt like torture. At 6:30, my shadow was stretching across to the next bluff, and I saw a little raft came downstream. I was becoming antsy with fears I wouldn't be able to scramble back up to the trail with all my equipment in the dusk. (I guess I should preface this with the fact I ran into the volunteer park ranger on the way in. He said "Just be very careful. Please stay back from the cliff. Watch where you step and be very careful." Then he told me the story of a woman last week falling in that very area. He said she called him before passing out; then he gave me his phone number, just in case.)

So when I say the long shadows and the raft, I decided to go ahead and take the picture, then started my hike back. As I drove out of the park, the sunlight switched from yellow to gold, the color I had been waiting for. I had been sitting on that cliff for two and a half hours, and had left 20 minutes too soon.

Yellowstone River from Sacrifice Peak with Rafter

I went to the bank of the river to try to get another shot. A nearly-full moon was rising over the bluffs in a pink sky, and the bluffs were blazing in gold over the sky-blue water. I missed the turn, u-turned, got to the fishing-area parking, pulled out my equipment, scrambled down the rocky embankment, all the while, staring at the golden hill, willing it to last just a little longer. I got to the edge of the water, got the tripod up, pulled out the 4x5 camera and discovered the lens board had come off the rails. While I fiddled to get it back on, the golden light disappeared and was replaced by a flat blue light. I took the shot any way, and cursed the boring image it produced.

Moonrise Over Yellowstone River, Ten Seconds Too Late

At least tomorrow I know the moon will be full, and I know where to be at the right time.

More time in jail

2011-09-09T18:02:00.000-06:00

I am humbled by my experience today. There are things that happen in life that can lead us to make choices we wouldn't have normally made, and then the world can judge us. While working in the prison, it has not been my intent to find out about any one person's particular crimes. I don't want to know; I don't want to judge. They've been judged already. But a couple times today, there was reference to deep pain, and I was moved.

Two women (I won't tell you which), asked me to photograph grave stones. They wrote on my form that these were people they loved dearly. Later, I was told the prison might not want me to make those images, as the deaths were caused by the inmates. And I hate to say, my curiosity got the better of me. I googled.

One of the deaths read like a self-defense case against a drug-addicted and raging mate. Even in the article, everyone quoted mentioned how in-love they were but how sick he was. She is serving twenty-five years.

Another woman didn't realize how severe injuries given to her child by his babysitter were; she is in jail for fifteen years because she waited five hours before calling 911.

Once you start searching, it's hard to stop. It's like eating three or four pieces of chocolate when you meant to have one or two. What's one more search... Another woman, who wanted a picture of a waterfall, had convinced a man to kill her husband, who had been raping and beating her for years. She was convicted for forty years.

I don't know what to think of these articles. Keep in mind that I am only reporting what I read on newspaper sites, not what the women themselves said. The reporters seem to be grievously lacking in their skills as journalists... I can't figure out how you can report a woman being sentenced for murder while also presenting what seem to be extenuating and unconsidered circumstances, and not point out some huge, if unfixable error in the legal system.

Other women who showed up in a google search had drug charges or "bad check" charges. Some women's names were only related to touching stories about the volunteer work they have been doing while in jail. Most of the women's names didn't bring up a result; their crime and incarceration apparently aren't worth noting online.

When I had lunch in the cafeteria, I saw some of the women I photographed last time . They smiled and waved at me. One is supposed to get out in the next week.

A couple of the younger women were so interested in the photographing process, they stayed with me and helped me get the next sitter ready, running the flashlight over to help me focus the 4" x 5" camera. At one point between sitters, one asked me what I expected it to be like in prison before I came. I laughed and was honest.

"I thought it would be like on t.v. with bars and cells and angry people who would try to shiv me if I turned my back on them."

She laughed too, and said it was actually nice. Since my talk with the Volunteer Coordinator at lunch had included a discussion about the prison's main goal of rehabilitation and education, of teaching women that they have worth and don't need to become the label "felon" when they leave, I could see her point. In some ways, I think lots of people could use training on how to be good members of the community. We all could use education, rehabilitation, and reminders that we are worth something and can be forgiven.

Later, they thanked me for including them in the project, and said, "Please let us know if you need anything else!"

I have a long list of places to visit after today's shoot. The most unusual one is Victoria's Secret.

UPDATE
All the images are now on my website. Check often as I add the landscapes.

Last Alice pics of the summer

2011-09-08T23:48:00.000-06:00

Alice next to a trading post with a Rendezvous camp setup in front. 1830s meets 1960s!

The last rest stop I slept in. I eventually moved over to the car side, but at this point in the
evening, I was the only one on the truck side, and it was too pretty to care.

Night at rest stop

Six dollar bike on an adventure at the abandoned motel

Misspellings and subliminal messages

2011-09-07T11:31:00.000-06:00

I am a notoriously bad speller. The computer/smart phone has made me worse, as they tend to automatically correct my mistakes before I even see them. As a result, many synapses in my brain have stopped working all together. My students are kind to me when I write on the board and spell something wrong (dumb mistakes too... spoll instead of spool). I shrug and say, well, I'm an artist not a grammarian. (I do get mad, though, when they can't figure out how to mix two liquids of different temperatures to make the developer come to 68 degrees. I suppose I should cut them some slack, but I think basic math and logic skills are immensely more important than spelling skills.)

Sometimes I am typing, and the little, angry red line appears under my word. I can tell it is wrong, but can't see where (probably could if I deleted and started over). So I right-click and pick the correct word.

The other day, I was spelling "opportunity" and probably switched the "u" and "t", one of my common mistakes I can't see when I am proof-reading. The little red line appeared; I right-clicked; it was fixed.

But for some reason, the right-click has kept those words active. "Opportunity" and "opportunist" appear every time I right-click to fix a word, to go back a page in a website, to copy-paste. Every time, the computer whispers to me, "opportunity opportunist."

At first I resented it. I associate "opportunist" with a negative connotation, someone who takes advantage of a situation, probably at the expense of others. But as the third day of this bug has worn on, I'm starting to think maybe it doesn't have to mean that. Maybe it just means someone who seizes their opportunities and no one gets hurt. Maybe, even, everyone wins!

What better way to spend a Sunday

2011-09-04T11:39:00.001-06:00

The weekends in Billings are the most annoying to me. As much as I wish all work-week for a weekend (to relax, to catch up, to work on my own projects), they are filled with unstructured time that seems to both stretch and fly. In those weekends, I am reminded there are no good art venues to visit, that the restaurants are overpriced for the mean income, that no shop carries a U.S. made product, that the landscape is filled with either ticks, snow, or bears. So this weekend, I signed up to help move freshmen into the dorms. They even enticed me with "a free t-shirt!" now, I am wearing a bright yellow shirt with three inch black lettering on the front that says, "ASK ME FOR HELP". I looked at the man who gave me the shirt and I said, "the free shirt is one I could never wear again." He said, "we want to make sure they know who to ask for help." I couldn't help wondering if the incoming students were exceptionally dumb, that if I was simply wearing a bright yellow shirt that said MSUB Housing or something, they wouldn't think they could ask me for help.

I do wonder what would happen if you wore such a shirt in public. Maybe it would bring comfort to someone who had given up on strangers being kind. I think that is an epidemic here.

Women's Prison

2011-09-02T18:40:00.000-06:00

I have just come home from my first photo-shoot in the Montana Women's Prison. The MWP is an unusual prison in that most of its offenders have committed non-violent crimes, such as using stolen checks or drunk driving (one of the more common crimes in Montana; I label this a non-violent crime, as I see more news stories about drunk drivers being caught for the 5th or the 8th time, often with kids in the car, but you seldom hear of a drunk-driving related homicides; I'm sure they do happen and I am sure some of the women in the MWP are there for that reason). Because of the sort of low-violence rate of the prisoners, they have a fair amount of freedom inside the prison, and there is a big emphasis on training, therapy, and education. Each hour, they can move from one place to another, activities they have chosen (other than any court mandated activities, such as AA, etc.). They are only restricted in that they have to go if they signed up, so they are accounted for at all times.

Last year I wrote a grant for some equipment and materials but they arrived late, then summer came, then blah blah... so here I am, beginning what I started to begin in May. When I first went to the prison, I had every anxiety and fear one would expect me to have going into a prison. But I found the women who had signed up to be a part of the project were curious, diverse, creative, and fairly kind. There was a raw honesty to their questions of me. "What made you want to photograph us?"

My experience today was amazing. My equipment is not ideal, so I had to do some wanky things to make it work, and since I was using Instant film, there was this awkward 90 seconds of waiting to see if the image was right before starting another one. They would say, "That looks good," and I would say, "I think we can do better. I'm not happy with ___." Then we would do another and they would say, "oh, that is so much better!" I've promised them all copies of their pictures, and they are excited about receiving them.

I asked each woman to name something she missed outside of prison. (Because of privacy issues and prison policy, I did not include personal homes or family members.) My intention is to photograph that place (or thing) and pair them with the woman who longs for it. I have basically asked these women to give me homework assignments, places that are important to them that I should see. They cannot have the power for me they have for these women, but I will be able to bring the picture back to them.

It feels good to be shooting again.

Facebook Suck

2011-09-02T10:41:00.001-06:00

I have been compulsively checking Facebook every ten minutes the last few days. Seldom is there new content, and when there is, it is mostly boring. Now I have to break the habit, because it is clearly one of the more unsatisfying addictions.

Things to do in Billings

2011-08-27T14:36:00.000-06:00

When I moved to Indiana, I was silly-optimistic about the little dying town I lived in. Everything was brilliantly ironic and interesting and crusty with history. I don't know if I burned myself out on idealization, but when I moved to Montana, I was less interested in learning about its history.

It's time I had an attitude adjustment, and try to find all the cool things there are in Billings, things that reflect interesting history and things I like to do. I am creating a Google Map of the things I like. It is linked on the right (but since I change it when traveling, the archival link is here).

I told another faculty person I was having trouble meeting people, and she asked me what I like to do? It felt like I was trying to fill out a dating profile on the spot... long walks on the beach? At sunset? While whales are jumping out of the water? No good. So here are the things I like to do.

Looking at art. Alas, I haven't liked most of the venues in town, but I am trying to remain optimistic.
Hiking in nature (usually trails, which means pretty easy hiking)
Biking (again, I have mostly been on the road and gone a max of 2 miles in a row)
Thrift shopping/Antique shopping/Garage saling/Flea market shopping (though I am getting tired of owning stuff. Should I do a good fall purge?)
Visiting State Parks
Drinking coffee
Drinking Microbrews
Watching movies at home (I have been trying to like movie theaters, but I have a tailbone spur-thing that made it very clear this summer that movie theaters aren't worth it)
Reading (when I have time, mostly summer... but maybe a book club?)
Taking pictures (usually alone, but I could try it with others again)
Hearing live music (with few exceptions, I like any live music. If it's live, I like it. I hate paying door fees though, if I don't know I like the band.)
Watching performances (plays, dance, comedy; the tailbone thing is an issue, but the whole intermission thing helps)

There must be more, but that's about it.

I wish I liked working in my yard, but not really. I like working in a veggie garden slightly more. Next spring, I'm going to convert half the yard to raised beds. I'll have to rig some kind of green house over them, since the cold lasts so long.

I wish I liked cleaning the house or organizing or painting, but I don't. I think I painted myself out in California. I have a lot of painting that needs to be done... maybe if I had company? I did paint the kitchen, and it feels like fresh air now when I go in.

Anyway.

Do you have suggestions of things to do in Billings? Recommendations for new hobbies? Let me know!

Apps for cats

2011-08-26T12:12:00.001-06:00

Hoping the iPad app will keep the cats from attacking the screen saver on the giant tv.

First day of school

2011-08-25T22:10:00.000-06:00

We had long meetings today. Some information was good; some was short-sighted and shouldn't have been announced in public yet (such as their plans to tear down one of the art facilities, but they hadn't yet budgeted for building/acquiring new ones). It was good to touch bases with some colleagues I'd like to work with more.

At the staff picnic, I ran into a student who helped me a lot last year. She told me she couldn't do as much this year, which made me sad. One of the reasons she cited was she didn't like fighting the other students who fought having my help, that she knew they needed my help and thought they were being stupid for trying to undermine me. I was sad to see her go, but couldn't blame her. I was also thankful someone was a witness to the active undermining. As I walked away from her, I spotted one of the said-underminers letting a pregnant girl take a puff off her cigarette. Nice.

This is how evil will take over the world.

Summer of the Reality Check

2011-08-21T14:32:00.001-06:00

I finally fixed an earlier post about a door handle I couldn't manage from my phone. I had the Internet shut off to the house while I was gone, and it won't be back on till next week. It means I have watched a lot less t.v., but also haven't been able to update the blog.

Things that broke in Alice this summer:

Front window seal (not really a new thing... I fixed it the first summer, then replaced the counter-top the leak had ruined the second summer... by the end of the summer, the leak was back... now it's even worse)
Bathroom window seal (this one was perfect for two summers!)
Seal around stove vent (this one puzzles me, because there is no seal that can have failed... it's just leaking. And it leaks a LOT. I leave a towel on the counter when it rains, and it is completely soaked after a light shower. Everything under the stove has been completely soaked from the water dripping down behind the stove... it's been going a while)
Furnace (What? This was only a year old when I bought it. I only used it one other time, and it worked fine.)
Water Heater (Has a leak that needs welding. My mechanic is a modern guy and kind of wrinkled his nose. "It's old. You should just replace it." Or, I can weld the leak and keep using it the one time a year I want hot water. Then again, this looks perfect for a small trailer!)
Front window crank (I wrote about this in an earlier post about a truck stop)
Water pump (Again, new when I bought it. It was acting funny in May, worked OK over the summer, then gave up on our last camping trip to Shades. I will have to siphon the water out of the tank to winterize, and I assume that will make all my pipes burst later.)

I had the tongue jack replaced at the beginning of the summer, which has made hitching and unhitching much easier. But it is clear that next summer will not be a camping summer, but a repair summer. :(

Pot of gold?

2011-08-17T13:08:00.001-06:00

Or gay dance club?

It's nice to be home

2011-08-17T11:31:00.001-06:00

I miss S, but Torah agrees, our house is nicer than Alice.

Kristen Wilkins's location@12:51pm,8/15

2011-08-15T12:52:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@12:51pm,8/15
Montana, Montana
http://m.google.com/u/m/AZmdBU

Kristen Wilkins's location@11:03am,8/15

2011-08-15T11:03:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@11:03am,8/15
Montana
http://m.google.com/u/m/A55edb

Kristen Wilkins's location@9:35am,8/15

2011-08-15T09:35:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@9:35am,8/15
Wyoming
http://m.google.com/u/m/BFckhU

Kristen Wilkins's location@4:57am,8/15

2011-08-15T04:58:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@4:57am,8/15
Wyoming, Wyoming
http://m.google.com/u/m/dkfAT9

Heading out early to try to catch a ghost town dawn.

Truckers as sleep mates.

2011-08-14T23:54:00.001-06:00

The last few days, I have been unhappy with truckers. They don't shut off their engines while they sleep (seriously, how is that efficient? !); their air brakes make a terribly loud noise every time they pull in or out of a spot (which scares the cats worse than me); and they haven't been good road mates either.

Last night, after being woken by the swearing guy, the next truck came in, its loud engine running, and in my dreams I was suddenly on an airplane, the truck noise transforming into the plane. But the truck engine would cycle at different times, and when it did, the plane in my dream would turn nose to earth, and begin a death-dive. It was horrible and I was helpless. There was no use screaming. In the dream, I was trying to be calm enough to think something pleasant before I splatted. Then the plane leveled out. Until the engine idled again.

Tonight's rest stop was void of truckers the first few hours. I had a full hour of sleep before they started arriving. Strangely too, they would turn their engines off after being parked a few minutes. Peace. Then the next one would arrive, pull up, release air breaks, idle, then off. Only one or two left their engines on. But as I woke up, I realized I was blocked from view and a truck might try to park in my spot before seeing me, a threat i could worry about all night. Sure enough, one pulled up then backed out on cue.

I threw in the towel and moved the car to the back of the bathrooms in the car loop (I didn't bother boxing up the cats; they hate that, but not, apparently more than they hate air breaks). Now, it is dark, quiet, with the soothing sounds of sprinklers.

I'm going to take one more tourist stop tomorrow, then I'll be home.

I took this picture to make fun of it...

2011-08-14T18:52:00.001-06:00

With its three air conditioners, satellite tv, tiny pick up, motorcycle, and uber horse power.

But let's face it. I just had to use a bucket of water to flush my toilet. I'm totally jealous.

At least Alice is cuter. And easier to maneuver in a parking lot.

The highlight of yesterday was the man driving the beautiful 1950 red Chevy giving me a thumbs up.

Taking a break.

2011-08-14T18:25:00.001-06:00

Orion, Wyoming

So close and yet

2011-08-14T17:49:00.001-06:00

SO FAR.

This summer... let's call it the summer of the Trailer-Reality-Check. The reality is owning a cool, vintage trailer is more work than owning a new (made in China) version. While many aspects of it will last longer than a modern trailer, it requires maintenances the modern person is not used to having to perform, such as re-lining the window seals with silver rubber composite to prevent leaks. (More on this in a later post.)

One of the major flaws Alice had when I bought her was her door. It appears to have opened in transit, or perhaps was thrown open in some past argument, or even opened against another trailer parked too close. Whatever happened, the result is the door is very distorted, and this causes terrible leaking around the door (which means the floor, woodwork and counter near the door need to be replaced eventually--no point in ding it till the door is fixed though). And the first day I was working on Alice, the lock was giving me problems, then promptly fell apart. I did not know how much trouble that would be...

Alice's door handle is a Bergman L-66, which in the vintage trailer world, is like a bar of gold. No, something more rare. A bar of uranium. Or rhodium. Something rare and expensive and coveted. Luckily, my local locksmith had an ancient cylinder replacement kit for my L66 ("I think it's been back there for 20 years!"), and so now I have a functioning lock. But it is fragile. Something inside the handle was bent, and my locksmith told me "it's only a matter of time before you need a new one." But as I have already explained and I was soon to find out, they are hard to find. I haven't found one for any amount of money, though they used to retail for $100.

That's where the above picture comes in. Do you see that crappy, abandoned little shack? Do you see the "custom" door someone built for it? No? Look closer:

Yes, that is a f***ing Bergman L-66.

Eventually, when I feel like I have disposable income again (I miss those days), I will have a new door made that fits snugly against the body, and maybe has a window (she's a little dark in that corner), and has an Airstream-style handle.* That will be great.

* Because vintage Airstreams are more common and popular, all their parts are still made.

Kristen Wilkins's location@5:08pm,8/14

2011-08-14T17:10:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@5:08pm,8/14
Wyoming
http://m.google.com/u/m/dbkMC7

I am passing Oregon Trail Ruts State Park. I'm wondering when they will build Broken Up Route 66 State Park.

Kristen Wilkins's location@3:29pm,8/14

2011-08-14T15:29:00.000-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@3:29pm,8/14
W Webster St, Morrill, NE 69358, Morrill, NE 69358
http://m.google.com/u/m/x3q4z5

Again why does it say I'm in Nebraska when I'm so excited to be in Wyoming?

Kristen Wilkins's location@12:38pm,8/14

2011-08-14T12:39:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@12:38pm,8/14
Sidney, NE 69162
http://m.google.com/u/m/x1TNPh

I don't know why it says I'm in Sidney. I'm clearly north of Kindal and in the middle of nowhere.

Right when I took this,

2011-08-14T12:34:00.001-06:00

That song came on the radio.

"I'm a cowboy on a steel horse I ride."

I wish I brought my cowboy boots

Rt 71, Nebraska

2011-08-14T12:32:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@11:34am,8/14

2011-08-14T11:35:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@11:34am,8/14
Nebraska, Nebraska
http://m.google.com/u/m/xCPFkP

I keep making wrong turns, adding many miles to my trip but at least I'm making good time.

Ogallala Nebraska

2011-08-14T10:34:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@9:56am,8/14

2011-08-14T08:57:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@9:56am,8/14
Nebraska
http://m.google.com/u/m/xK1e92

Crossed into mountain time zone

Two cute trailers in one station!

2011-08-14T08:19:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@8:57am,8/14

2011-08-14T08:05:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@8:57am,8/14
http://m.google.com/u/m/xTFafY

What started out as a really good rest stop, turned frustrating when truckers who like to keep their engines on decided to park near me which was very very far from the bathroom. Throw in a trucker who likes to swear, who decided to work on his truck at midnight; I was in for a poor night of sleep indeed!

Torah is ready to go!

2011-08-14T07:52:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@5:41pm,8/13

2011-08-13T16:41:00.001-06:00

Kristen Wilkins's location@5:41pm,8/13
Nebraska
http://m.google.com/u/m/xtFCLK

We will call this the middle of nowhere Nebraska.

Platte Valley Antique Mall

2011-08-13T16:33:00.001-06:00

Platte Valley Antique Mall
1 (402) 944-2949
13017 238th Street, Greenwood, NE 68366-2121
http://m.google.com/u/m/Azzcoi

Jinx

2011-08-13T12:02:00.001-06:00

Clearly I spoke too soon when I said there wasn't any Flooding. An entire section of the freeway Route I was planning on taking is closed