Saying yes...

Is it still brain-drain if you're aware it's happening?

I got back into town late Saturday afternoon. I was relieved to be back amongst my own family unit and was happy to feel like a grown-up again instead of the youngest. It doesn't matter how old you are, when in certain settings, you fall into line with your birth order. I'm surprised I didn't break out with acne while gone.

Anyhow, I got back and was pretty much a waste product. I was looking forward to doing nothing but the the crossword puzzle on Sunday when I remembered that Grizzled had signed us up for a glass class. Working with glass was always something that called to him, and a number of months back, he convinced me to go to a class with him. It was not something I ever felt the need to do, but hey... he was asking, and I wanted him to do it. I'm so glad we went.

It was just Grizzled, me and a very wonderful, knowlegable instructor. Since we were working with ovens that were cranking out 2400 degree heat and were going to be carrying around rods with molten glass, we had to focus. We had to really focus. There was no time for imaginary scenarios going around in your head... no time for judgment, no time for anything other than making sure you kept that rod spinning in your hand and doing what you needed to do to that molten blob of glass... at some point after my "second gather", while fusing my colored glass in what was called the "glory hole" (our instructor made the jokes, filthbot did not need to), I realized my mind was completely silent. I had experienced brain-drain, and I felt peace. Even though my mind acknowledged this, it couldn't stay on it for too long as I had to move to the next station, had to keep moving and doing, intensly focusing on the task at hand...

We pick up our paperweights sometime at the end of the week... they spend a fair amount of time in the annealing oven and then have to have their bases polished. They were so hot when we last saw them, I'm not even sure how they'll look. I don't even care. The process would have been worth it had we gotten nothing to take home. The brain-drain was definitely worth it.

When we left, the instructor asked if we'd be interested in doing more. He said it was addictive. Oh, I'm sure it is. I could already tell it was one of those things where once you got the feel, you had to go back to see if you could do it again, and then try this and try that. I'm not sure I need to do glass though. I kind of hope Grizzled does, but I know I need to do something that's hard... well, maybe not hard, but truly challenging... not something you know you'll be good at if you just give it a whirl, but something completely new... something that takes all of your focus and is also a little bit scary. I think the part that was most addictive for me was the brain-drain.

Dr. Bombay! Dr. Bombay! Emergency... Come Right Away!

EL had to take a trip to Urgent Care after an Ultimate Frisbee scuffle... hopefully it was just a sprain, nothing broken... while there, the Dr. said, "So, has this part of her foot always looked like this???"

Me: "Umm, yes... her father's look the same way..."

Granted, I probably should have had portions of her feet looked at long ago, but EL had other issues to deal with that made me try to lessen Dr. appointments. Her Dr. never mentioned it, and frankly, her Dr. was waaaaaay too into, "OH MY GAWD!!! You need a SPECIALIST!!!"

I was reiterating this again today... saying how her Dr. would have gone, "Oh my GAWD! You've parted her hair on the wrong side! You need to see a hair doctor!!!"

And then, on cue, EL said, "Herr Doktor Bimler??"

:)

I lahve that my kids get word play... even if maybe one or both have their father's funky feet... at least they got our dominant word gene.

You put your right knee in... and you shake it all about!

Tom knows...

 

So does Jon...

And Lonely Boy....

I may be blind, but I've still got it!

I've always had a good sense of color... able to pick out what makes up a color, able to see where they're off, able to see colors others say should not be there. I ran across this test again, where you have to drop and drag colors in order of their hue. I took the test, with a bright window behind my screen and I still. kicked. ass. Scores ranged from 0 being the best to 1520 being the worst. For women in my age range, I scored a 12. I knew it wasn't perfect, but my eyes were fried and I submitted. Not to mention I have horrible vision and am old.

I'll take a 12!!

I made EL stop reading her physics book (she's reading it for fun, don't ask...) and take the test. I was thinking I stood a chance at beating her... the old gray mare might still be what it used to be. And her score?? 11! Grrrrrr. I'm going to block out the window and take it again...

Shout out question for Herr Doktor Vision... and forgive its simplicity, but... is it merely cones that allow us to perceive color, or does a life's worth of color experience help as well?

Update:

This song had to be added after I realized why it was playing in my head after taking the test...

HA!!!!

Mr. Indigo Bunting decided to come visiting with Mr. Big-Ass Rabbit... to snarfle up fallen food. Since Mr. I. Bunting had already done a fly-by, I had taken down the screen and had snagged YL's camera...

Also... ignore the weeds...

 

The darkest hour is just before dawn...

We stayed in a number of different places while on the road. Some were chosen in advance... some were merely chosen by where we wanted to go that day or when we wanted to stop. One thing did not change... when we got there, Grizzled let me decide which side of the bed I was sleeping on.

Grizzled and I have been sharing beds for over 2 decades now. He said he used to think I always chose the same side, no matter the room, but he soon learned that was wrong. He then said he thought it was the side farthest away from the door, but that wasn't right either. He then realized it was safest to just let me pick... my picking being done the minute I walk in. I sense the side I want and plop my stuff down. I have been known to switch sides during a visit though if the room doesn't feel right, even though I know switching sides won't necessarily help. Sometimes the bed is just off.

We stayed in one of these rooms while on the road. It did not feel good to me and neither did the bed. I woke up in the middle of the night, certain something was in front of me. I could feel it. If I opened my eyes, I'd see it and I didn't want to. I also knew I had a chair next to my side of the bed and had put a bunch of my stuff in it so that was probably it. I opened my eyes and sure enough, saw a large, dark mass. I reached out, felt one of my bags and then something else that didn't feel familiar. I jumped and made some panicked noise.  I snatched my hand back in as fast as I could, pulled up the covers even though it was hot, and inched over to Grizzled's side... slowly enough that he wouldn't realize he only had 5 inches on which to sleep... and then I waited... it was a long night.

I'm not afraid of a lot, but my senses/imagination can have their way with me in the dark. Maybe it was too many horror movies as a kid... one too many scary novels, or camping out with friends and trying to scare the bejesus out of each other... or my brothers, who liked to torment like only brothers can... I like to be scared, but when I choose. I don't like to be afraid at night, which is why I'm glad I don't have to sleep alone... even when I was alone, I still had a dog. 

I remember when I was much younger and my grandmother was still alive and living by herself, I would ask her if she was afraid at night, wasn't she tempted to sleep with a light on... somewhere?? (She had a creepy basement with dirt walls... and a scary attic... those two places would immediately pop into my mind if I was staying overnight at her otherwise wonderful house....) She said she grew up with no electricity so darkness did not bother her. She also had the Lord to look over her... Well, Grandma's Lord gave me a wicked imagination that likes to mess with me... so again, I am glad I don't have to sleep alone. I am also glad I have someone who can sleep anywhere... and doesn't mind that I need to pick my side of the bed... or who doesn't mind when I leave him only 5 inches to sleep on because I am sure that something out of Grandma's basement is sitting next to my side.

The sinister wooly bison still haunts me... and it was in our hotel room that night... I know it.

Bad judgment

During our recent road trip, I heard a song that will forever make me think of fun and alcohol poisoning... I know, I know, I should not say those two things together, but thank gawd for whatever it is that gets us through our stupid decisions in life...

Imagine if you will... an endless heatwave... going grocery shopping with your roommate/bestest friend... deciding at 9AM that margaritas sound REALLY GOOD... so you buy LARGE QUANTITIES of STUFF at the store, deciding not to eat when you get home, but go straight to the margaritas...

Hours and hours later, after a person or two has left the party, and the margaritas became anything you and your roommate could mix with tequila, if mixing was really even necessary... and after the dancing around and on the table while wearing your roommate's red sheet; dancing to the song below, you decide you probably need a nap, but the man you've been seeing (and will eventually marry) has shown up, decides maybe you need dinner and prepares you food... and stays with you throughout the night, which is a good thing, because you wake up in the wee hours feeling sun burnt and insane... and he gets you water and helps you to the bathroom, and does all sorts of responsible things... while your crazy roommate somehow finds it within himself to actually go out on a first date!!!

That is what this song makes me think of... and when I hear it, I still smile... and thank my lucky stars...

 

Because niceness should not go unnoticed... especially during election season...

Apparently Laura is doling out awards to people who inspire and encourage her... since she had to hand them out to 15 people, I got one! Yay!! :)

I usually love memes, but am up to my gill flaps (Fish College terminology) in life right now so will probably not do it with all the bells and whistles...

What I will do is say, "Thank you. The feeling is mutual." :)

What I will also do is say thank you to most everyone who has crossed this blogging threshold. I love you all so much, I often want to smack you...really, now get outta here!

Last but not least... I'm supposed to pony up with random details about myself. I've been doing that for over 5 years and am not sure what's left to divulge. Laura, if you're interested, here's my first... if the rest of you have any random questions that I have not answered in the past 5 or more years of interacting, feel free to leave them in the comment section.

Onward!!!

Brings a smile to my face...

I had forgotten about this:

 

Using paint for painting class is so 1992...

Yes, I'm breaking my own rule about not talking about my classes, but I felt this one needed to be shared... especially since some of you have been privy to other experiences.  Aside from the fact that I only found out this class was going to run yesterday morning, and class was to start last night, that would be the least of my problems.

I arrived about 20 minutes early, figuring that since this was the first class,  no one would be waiting outside, 45-60 minutes early, like other classes I've (cough) heard about... I had brought in some of my own work, brought in my supplies, dug through old class exercise canvases that have long since been abandoned, trying to figure out my best plan of attack for a 3 hour class.

Mr. Enthusiasm (age 72) showed up first... but I noticed he had no supplies. He said he thought the first class would just be an orientation lecture. I said with only 6 weeks in this session, we're going to start painting tonight!! If he lived close enough, he should really go home and get his stuff.

During our brief bit of smalltalk, I found out that Mr. Enthusiasm was more or less self-taught, having had an insatiable hunger for art history books. He had worked in the steel mills which is where he learned welding, and after that, he ventured into sculpture.  He no longer has a torch, so he said he uses whatever other materials he finds that he can repurpose. I get that.

I also heard, "WELDING!!" I have wanted to learn to weld for the past 20 years, but never seem to have gotten the chance. I asked if he would please bring back some of his work, when he went home to get his supplies... and off he went.

Student #2 shows up!! Ms. Youth!! Also supply-less... Really?? No supplies?? She said she gathered that supplies would be included. HA! HAHA!! No, I told her, they're not... you should have been given a list. I said she could use some of mine for this evening... We talked a bit about her experience and what brought her here. She's a graphic designer and spends most of her day doing banners and envelope design. She really wanted something more creative again. She said she also was known for asking questions and hoped that was alright! HA! QUESTIONS?!!! Someone who wanted to ask questions and not know everything right from the start!!! I said I LOVED questions and would do my best to answer all... Yes! Let loose with the questions... ask them in 20 different ways. Pry what you need from my atrophying brain!!!

Enter student #3... Mrs. I'm Retired, (age, early 60's). Guess what?? She had no supplies... I called the main facility, hoping they could fax a list, but apparently none was on file, and I could not access mine at home. I started reeling them off, and was 6 items into a list before they asked if I could email them in the morning. :)

Mr. Enthusiasm returned with some awesome sculptures, we talked about them and his inspiration. We talked about methods, we talked about where this class would be going, and since it was only 3, hopefully everyone would get plenty of time and would be allowed to follow the path they needed.

I couldn't help but notice that Mrs. I'm Retired seemed a bit sheepish when we were discussing some of the aspects we'd be delving into. I asked her what she was thinking, what was up?? She said she had ABSOLUTELY NO EXPERIENCE... and that that was why she was here, because the course book said, "No experience necessary, just a desire to learn." I said she was right! We'd jump in wherever she was! She still looked really nervous. I prodded some more. And then she teared up a little bit and said, "I haven't done anything since high school." I told her I'd had a lot of people like that. High school desires got shelved for real life and decades later, they finally took those desires off the shelf! No problem! She then said, "No, you don't understand... my high school teacher said I had absolutely no talent and should never do art again... but I can't stop thinking about it and when I saw this course offered, I thought, this is my last chance... but I'm worried, what if I really can't do it??"

I was flabbergasted and said the first exercise would be hunting down the old art teacher so we could smack him/her upside the head. I said the mere fact that this has been calling her for DECADES was all I needed to hear, and that she did not need experience, but just had to be open. I told her she would start seeing things in new ways, and she'd never stop. Her response? I'm always trying to look at things with an open mind... always trying to find new ways of thinking. I guess I'm in the right place.

Yes, yes she is.

I just wish I could bottle some of her openness, some of the entire groups' enthusiasm, and share it with another group I know.

So, I have a new class with 3 people... who have no supplies. :) But they're 3 people who have the supplies I didn't really think of... they are OPEN!! They're not defensive! They're excited. They just want to explore. I can work with that.