Tuesday, July 03, 2012

Re-cover/Recover Love.



Yours Truly, looking about whilst editing as a cornea-protecting measure (that nice Lisa at the eye joint reported that I have the classic bent corneas of one who spends entirely too much time looking at the backlit screens of le monde moderne) spots some summertime flaws:
1. Men in sandals. Unless they're the sort that men wear in the state of Maine for legitimate, kayaking-related reasons, please, men, spare us.
2. Tattoos, badly executed and splayed on limbs in collagey fashion. To my right a man who otherwise looks alright has collaged on his arms (in no particular order): a black lobster head/puma head, life-sized scissors, crystals coming out of a wave/cat's paw, spots resembling bruises or tropical flesh-killing disease.
As YT advised a young person recently, who breathlessly awaited my cogent reply to the question "Where should I get my tat?" - "You do realize that it's not mandatory, right?"

Getting ready for several things presently:
1. Deadline du jour of images made of an upholstery lady whose job (see Trade Tools above) it is to salvage and creatively recover furnishings that have been beat to hell by undergraduate students who drop pizza slices and slop their snowy feet all over the seats and sofas. And yesterday, while meeting with a friend for summertime bevvies, she reported that some of these upholstered furnishings - in libraries - are covered with unmentionable fluids after unmentionable activities.
2. Roadtrip to a lakeside joint for a brief respite.
3. Workshop using this very tool (Blogger), FB, Twitter, and smarts for a group of teens on Thursday via YAWNY (not to be confused with thee one and only YANNI of "Is GREEK spoken here?" in heavy accent despite living in the USofA for ... like forever. NB: caveat away if and when You, on a lark, open up his cheeseball flash page as some horrid music will stream into your life).
4. The solo YT drawing show - "Direct."
 But that is an ever-present fact until Friday, September 7th.

Onwards to the push of pixels.
Indie Love.