February 02, 2008


Our monthly is a craft night. Valentines edition, war of girled-craft. The foot of snow kept a few people at home, but those that showed glued it up past midnight. JR was on foot and close by, so he arrived early and immediately pressed me with a question that was baffling him "I heard about this popular band Vampire Weekend. Someone told me that they sound like Paul Simon--like Graceland-era--is this true?!" I told him it was--Nassau gone Hamptons--I have Mp3'd proof, dog. He was incredulous: "WHAT THE FUCK?!" J.R. works a swing shift and doesn't have a computer or an ipod so he's a good gage of how East Coast rages and internet phenomena translates (or doesn't) in a more treacley paced real/regular word.

Despite that Max started crawling two days ago, Robin made it over for our first craft time since before he was born. Robin and I have embarked on many ambitious and rarely finished projects, including a dog shaped purse, which was fondly eulogized last night: she sewed the straps on wrong, in such a way where then you could not open the purse. Hermeticallly sealed too-small canvas dog. Then she bested our best work (living room curtains) by making Max. She told me I had made a monster by showing Ian how to use HypeMachine last time I was at their house. She said all the songs he downloads are people singing "Where's my cocaine?" or "How come you didn't tell me you have cocaine?" and asked me to explain. I couldn't. We all came up listening to punk and hxc that were either too obtuse or high on moral absolutes to ever sing openly about doing drugs. We all came up in the heroin age that followed 80's punk coke-rager, and saw enough death and stolen record collections that cadging notice on a habit--in song--is kind of beyond the pale.

Kells was the only one who showed up with a specific Valentine vision, making a card for her second date with a girl that's happening on 2/14,

P1050092.jpgreferencing the old joke about what do lesbians bring to a second date: a U-Haul.

AnnieLaurie, after a long day teaching bright young things at the Art Inst., came home and pounded out a grip of 'tines. She was also nice enough to share her color transparencies of diseased tissues and colons and stuff.

Kells made us a valentine for the house, "Sup Romance". Her "Welcome Homo" sign is still up on the front door, it's pipe cleaners stand in stark contrast to my neighbours country-style seasonal wreaths.

Classic pizza-tine.

J.R., who is currently reading his 23rd book on Honest Abe, made a Lincoln-tine for his room. The quote on the bottom is about conquering your enemies by turning them into friends. PMAbe.

I mostly shellaced feathers and glue to stuff, though my crude embellishment of a picture of a woman eating a chocolate eau clair repulsed my co-creationists.

Whatever, man. It's a feminist critique; I just fully illustrated what the picture implied, filled in that male gaze with some glitter and glue.

Posted by Jessica at February 2, 2008 01:19 PM | TrackBack