Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Get Him to the Greek is my new favorite movie

I just can't get enough of this movie and the songs!

It's my kind of humor -- set to rockin music! I'm gonna have to buy the soundtrack.

Here are my latest favorite two songs.

Going Up by Infant Sorrow

I woke up singing Going Down this morning.

Like water through a drain, I'm spinning down, down, down
Like the needle in my vein, You're bringing me down, down, down
Like a dog who's gone insane,
You're putting me down, down, down

And those of you who doubted me,
Are going down, down, down
And the record man who never called,
Can you hear what's going on?

I'm coming up
I'm coming up
I'm coming up
I'm coming up

And the world ain't gonna catch me going down
Then this other song is just hilarious -- Bangers Beans and Mash (call and come home) by Infant Sorrow

So if you could use a little laugh, check out these songs -- they're silly but catchy as hell.

Note - It's been weeks since we've seen the sun, which may attribute to the darkness of recent posts and focus on movies and music.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

When the world slips you a Jeffrey, stroke the furry walls

We just watched Get Him to the Greek last night and I laughed harder than I have in a long-ass time.

I laughed a laugh that I hadn't heard for so long, I didn't even recognize it as my own.

So yesterday I just stroked the furry walls and chilled out a little.

Because I get a little crazy, especially around the holidays. (I really hate that caveat "especially around the holidays" when used like this, "It's terrible that their house burnt down and they lost everything, especially around the holidays." No. It's just goddam sad and terrible that the house burnt down. PERIOD. However, I can get into using it as an excuse for being an insane, melodramatic, emotional wreck, you know, especially around the holidays ;-)

Off track again, sorry. (Stroke the furry walls, Sarah, just stroke the furry walls.)

Ahhhh. Much better.

So, I was digging through my craft stuff recently and found leftover quilt squares from the quilt Jason and I made when our third nephew was born in 2007. As with the first two nephews, I grossly miscalculated the quilt material and ended up with enough squares for extra quilts. With the twins, I made them each a quilt and had enough leftover to make one for my mom. With the third nephew's quilt, we had enough leftover to make Jason's mom a quilt and then still had more left after that.

So yesterday I surveyed the leftover squares, extra fabric and batting and realized I had enough to make a another small quilt!

But this one isn't going anywhere. I made it for Jason. Because it reminds him of his mom. And he needs a blankie (we all do!).

Here's what I've had sitting around for several years just waiting to be put to use:

So I did the best with what was left (there are a two very weird squares that I  made from scraps).

I can't believe how fast it went with all the squares made! initially, it took us weeks to make all the "quiltlettes." But now, with the squares already made, it only took me an hour to sew them together! Another hour to snip/fray the edges.

I washed it a few times to get the full ragtime effect and had it ready when my sweet hubby sat down at the end of a long day. (Bad hair day and green eyebrow = no head in picture, sorry.)

He was so surprised and happy -- he slept with it all night. It was very cute.

It's really interesting to me how colors can evoke so much emotion and recollection. Like an analogue wave of memories attached to rays of refracting light. 

To me, images of the human form are very static. Those types of pictures only evoke in me a vision or recollection of that exact moment in time. Not the before or after associated with that moment -- just that moment stopped in time. Therefore, pictures of people don't do much for me.

But colors! Wow!

When I look at this quilt the colors and patterns remind me of so many things:

The news of a new nephew.
Jason and I toiling away together making the quilts in L.A.
Jason learning to use the sewing machine and enjoying it.
The excitement when we realized we had enough left to make a quilt for Donna.
Presenting the quilts and seeing big smiles all around.
Our mothers comfortably covered with colorful quilts made by our hands.
The quilt in the bed with all of us during the dark days on the hill.

But most of all, love.

It reminds me of absolute, pure, comforting love.

And that is why my art focuses more on mixtures of color than recreating human form. The colors are comforting to me and when I look around at them I feel surrounded with love.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

New skin for the old Sarah-mony

The end of the year always seems like a good time to get a fresh start.

So I asked my friend Elena to cut about three years off of my hair.


Cut off the death and sadness.
Cut off the isolation.
Cut off the abuse of Los Angeles.
Cut off the last traces of Texas.

Color my hair so that my eyes shine again.

This was my Christmas. An act of kindness from a loved one, shared with loved ones, reciprocated by a loved one.

I've never understood why Christmas day should be any different than the rest of the year.

Why do these illusions and disillusions have to be celebrated on designated days? Why can't kindness and human civility happen on any or all days of the year? Why does it have to be scheduled into the calender?

It feels something like this to me:

January through Thanksgiving -- go ahead and be an asshole -- you can make it up during the holidays!

Thanksgiving through Christmas -- time to act right and be nice to the ones you say you love. Give 'em a call -- five minutes of small talk will wipe it all away and YOU won't feel so guilty.

Because it's all about you, isn't it?

Well, I got news for you -- one phone call on the most busy and confusing day of the year won't make up for being a douche bag the other 364 days of the year.

Does anyone even know what Christmas stands for these days except CONSUME?

What the hell are we celebrating anyway?

What means what to whom.

Celebrate the birth of Christ? Christian.

Celebrate Santa? Pagan.

Celebrate both? Confused hypocrite.

Celebrate Christmas but don't actually believe in any of it? Overstimulated dipshit consumer duped by the incessant advertising that is piped into our brains every time we open our eyes or ears.

Don't celebrate any of it and try to avoid the consumerism? Get called a Jehovah's Witness.

But then again, ya know what?

Don't think twice, it's alright.

Have a happy holiday -- whatever the fuck that means to you.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Leonard Cohen: Live in Portland

Leonard Cohen Unified Heart Touring Co. 2010
Rose Garden Arena, Theater of the Clouds
Portland, Oregon. December 8, 2010

And we were there!!

Over two years ago, our good friend  Dickhaut in Texas, told us that Leonard Cohen was going on tour. "I'm getting tickets! You guys should too!"

Jason and I were so excited by the news, we jumped online and found the closest show to us -- in Seattle -- on a weeknight. No dice.

We cooked, fried, sauteed, fricasseed the books - to no avail.

We couldn't afford to go.

Rent and food are more important, we told ourselves.

Be realistic, we told ourselves.

We'll NEVER see Leonard Cohen in concert, we told ourselves. And we believed it.

Until one dark day in August, when our hope (for anything) was lower than our spirits, Jason gets an email confirming two tickets to see Leonard Cohen in Portland in December.


Our sweet, generous, kind, thoughtful mother had found and bought the tickets for us as a surprise. Actually they were for Jason (that's what she said when I told her thanks 100 times).

As silly as it may sound, this gift was the beacon of light that led us through the second half of this miserable year.

The concert was amazing. I cried. I laughed. I went into a meditative trance.

It was like a room full of Buddhists sitting quietly, swaying to the beautiful colors and sounds and instruments. (There was an electric oboe thing with strings!!! I've never seen such a beautiful instrument.)

Jason and I agree that this was by far, hands-down, THE.BEST.CONCERT.EVER. (And collectively, we've seen all the big shows, so that's saying a lot!)

Here is a slide show of pictures we took during the concert (cameras were allowed):

Thank you to our dearest little midget-mama.

I'm really not sure how we would have finished the year without that beacon.

But with it, we are both re-fueled. Filled up again.

Not necessarily filled up with happiness, but with the comfort that Leonard sings of when he reminds us, "There is a crack in everything, and that's where the light gets in."

We're still waiting for the light to get in. But we know it will come.

Because good things come to those who wait (getting to see Leonard in concert after resigning to the fact of never seeing him is a prime example).

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

Life in, Life out

I'm sitting in the main lobby of the Hospital. Waiting.

These days, hospitals are hard for me to handle.

Luckily, I'm here for work and not for "pleasure."

As I sit here, waiting for my next meeting, listening to Bob Marley and all my other faves, I look around at all the others. Waiting.

Too bad they aren't here for work too.

I can't help but to look around and think about each person or group's "story."

Right now, there is a huge family waiting for the patriarch to have surgery.

When they first checked in, the whole family wasn't here yet and the wife left husband and daughter to look for crackers. "Don't let them call your name while I'm gone!" she demands as she searches for the starches.

One minute later, the nurse calls his name. His young daughter is left by herself while nurse takes Dad for "just a minute."

Daughter looks scared - like she shouldn't have "let them call his name."

He's back before his wife knows he was gone. Pheww.

An hour later, 10 of them are waiting. Trying to be jovial. No one speaks of the imminent. Nervously shifting from sit to stand.

Lots of grave faces painted with smiles in that group. I hope it goes well.

Another lady has read at least 500 pages of a giant book that looks like an unabridged dictionary since I've been sitting here. Now she's doing crosswords with a pen. (Did you know Confucius does his crosswords with a pen?)

Reading lady is definitely waiting. I hope it goes well for her too.

If I thought it would help, I would pray for these people. But I have a hard time believing that a third-party administrator for my kind thoughts and well wishes is an efficient or effective solution.

Patriarch is being called now. He has to choose one person to take with him and has to hug the rest goodbye and leave them behind. Nurse directs family to other family waiting room. Waiting.

The hugs are starting. Goodbyes and good lucks ring through the lobby.

"Don't you get lost, come back to me, you hear!"

They are all gone now.

The patriarch.

The family.

The reading lady.


And another round of waiting has begun. In the lobby and in the lives of the wait-ers.

What a fucked up way to spend a morning.

Watching the stoicism, the strength, the fear, the love, the uncertainty of Life.

Life in, Life out.

Please just put me on a hill with a nice view, under a cozy tree, overlooking a babbling brook when it's my time to wait.

Hospitals give me the creeps.