November 05, 2010

I AM RENEWED IN YOUR BLOOD

This piece is a few years old but a goodie. Sometimes when friends interview friends it can be real insidery and lack context but Miranda July interviewing Khaela Maricich aka THE BLOW is pretty great. And as with most things involving both those artists, will make you feel like you are not using your time or talents to their fullest.

This weekend I might plant some garlic. A slow eight month micro crop seems like about all I can handle for sure at this juncture. Nothing fancy. I will try to document it because from what I read about it so far even brown thumbs like me should be able to swing it. Actually, I am not a brown thumb. I am lucky green thumb--my garden came up gangbusters despite being too preggo to manage it. I picked a little watermelon last weekend. I never bothered to look, but I happened to spy it. I am going to look around and see if there are more hiding under the 2 foot tall weedy brush growth that surrounds the whole place. Robin is coming to visit from Portland this weekend and says she will help me with some garden stuff but she is going to cry blood when she sees my plot of jungle. There is a lot of other stuff I could tell you about, but I have a pact oath to keep Williams baby life pretty private. Because who knows what the internet situation will be when he is old enough to read it, or an adult. Though I am kind of scared what the world will be like when he is grown, like if the internet is this heinous-mazing now and the air is this dirty now and the Tea Party is like, an actual thing galvanizing people...

ANYHOW.
I can tell you he is a big fat baby, he has just surpassed the weight of the biggest walleye ever caught in my homestate of Minnesota. He laughs and smiles and mimics us saying "hi" which cracks me up to no end, he sleeps through the night, which I understand for a 3.5 month old baby borders on sanctified miracle. The only time he gets crabby when he is laying down and wants me to stand him up so he can look at the art I put up in our room for him to look at, which sounds ridiculous but super precious and it is, except when is super awake and I am not, and he just wants hop up and down in my lap staring at them at 5 or 6 or 7 am. For a half hour. He is such a sweet mystery, such a gorgeous meatloaf.

Posted by jessica hopper at November 5, 2010 11:22 PM | TrackBack