Sunday, December 31, 2006
ArtPact #6
OK now...
This is going to be a very humbling experience.
On the verge of humiliating.
Last week turned out to be very busy and hectic, with Christmas evening and day, and The JohnnyB on vacation (which did not contribute for my painting mood, as painting is a solitary thing, y'see), and then him getting sick, plus the frantic application for a CARICOM visa for me, and then the plague that took both our computers away, and me getting the cold from the JohnnyB in between - - - and you expect me to paint?!?
OK, OK, you're right.
I made a commitment, yeah, yeah...
OK - I said OK!.
Steady on now.
So, against all odds, I started a painting last night.
I was quite pissed and stressed, and very rushed - the worst time to paint.
Actually, it can be a very good idea to paint when you are in such a low mood - nothing beats art therapy, but only if you paint what you want and feel, and not what you should be painting.
And I, as we all recall, need to paint them damn pomegranates.
Still: I started - which is the hardest step.
Painted for a while, and crushed to bed.
But today, waking up sick and stuffy, with a splitting headache, pissed that we are going to miss the New Year's party we were invited to, I could not bring myself to continue - not to mention finish - the painting.
And yet, my pact says I post a fresh produce from the easel, no cheating.
So, here is all I got for you right now: the very beginning of the first version of pomegranate painting.
This is the initial under-drawing I made, based on the composition of the drawing I posted last week. Not too bad.
The only catch is that I drew this with watercolor crayons, which have the neat attribute of dissolving in water.
It's a trick we learned from WackieM.
The good thing is that - as opposed to a pencil drawing - they do not leave graphite marks (which sometimes interfere with the painting).
The bad thing: they dissolve in water...
I know, like, Duh?
Wait!
My point is that if you do not draw strong enough, you pretty much lose a lot of the drawing, and end up tearing your hair and screaming in dismay while throwing things around, getting an even worse headache and becoming an overall very unpleasant and non-environment-friendly person, scaring the hell out of The JohnnyB, who sometimes forgets that artists have tortured souls.
Especially when their drawing dissolves away!
It's easy to see this is a classic example of such an occasion:
Once I did the first wash, only fragments of the drawing were left here and there.
Yep, I never learn.
Anyhow, let me repeat the disclaimer:
This is an unfinished painting.
It's only the very beginning.
The initial stage of blocking-in the major shapes with underlying color washes.
There are some areas that I actually like about it (and hopefully will not screw them up, as I tend to do in my eternal self-destructive talent), and others that are truly horrendous, and would be fun to cover with the next washes.
So, now it's up to what I do with it once I get the energy to continue.
Once I manage to reproduce the lost drawing, that is...
Most important: yet again, I did not break my pact!!!
Which brings up another resolution for the coming year:
To never, ever again, reach the point that all I have to post is a shameful thing such as this.
previous ArtPact... ...next ArtPact
Hi-Tech, Bye-Tech.
Before this year leaves us, I would like to play this hypothetical game with you.
Exercise for the mind, if you choose to call it.
Just humor me for a while, OK?
Say you live in the heart of the hi-tech world, wireless and all.
Bytes and pixels smiling at you, obeying every whim and desire you might have.
You have two computers at home: A desktop, and a laptop.
Then, your husband goes through a short spell of flu, and gets better after 24 hours.
Rosy-cheeked and filled with the energy of the recovered-from-a-one-day-flu, he decides it’s time to dust the desktop monitor.
Now, that monitor, mind you, is a wonderful monitor.
Tall and wide, dark and handsome, high resolution and rotating, state-of-the-art, does its job on the best side, and was purchased for good money less than 10 months ago.
But, alas, it gathers dust.
Being black, the dust shows even more.
And your husband is energetic.
So he dusts.
At some point, the dusting becomes somewhat frantic, so it seems, and the monitor - being height adjustable - suddenly gets lowered.
Your husband tries to raise it back up.
The monitor resists.
Your husband insists.
The monitor does not show signs of consent.
Your husband insists even more (what ever happened to "No means No!"?).
The monitor (still dusty, if I might add!!!) then takes the Fifth, reverts into itself and sinks into a bleak catatonic state.
You get pissed.
As in, REALLY pissed, for 5 minutes.
But – Hey, accidents happen.
There are worse things in life.
It's all about proportions.
Plus - you still have the laptop, right?
So, you use the laptop, to print some reference photos for your next painting (say you also made an ArtPact with your many loyal readers).
And, suddenly, the laptop complains that it's choking - it has no power.
"But you are hooked to the power cord, you stupid thing", you reprimand it, checking the power, just to make sure.
Yep, power cord is plugged in.
Still, the laptop keeps complaining.
You wiggle the cord, to no avail.
The laptop turns itself off, with a quiet tear and a long look of farewell. (Those Dell appliances can get so melodramatic at times!).
Then you notice that the power cord does not have the green led on. which means it's not getting power.
You apologize to the laptop, but it longer hears you, being in deep hibernation.
So you take the reserve power cord that was purchased on eBay a while ago, and you plug it to the outlet.
Green light comes on, and you optimistically plug it into the laptop receptacle - - -
- - -
- - - and within a fraction of a second, all your senses get into action:
You hear the gentle noise of a power cord stopping to work.
You smell the odorous scent of something burnt.
You see a black screen.
You feel a cold hand grasping your guts.
You know that last look of the laptop will accompany you forever.
You immediately plug the cord out.
You shout for help.
Your husband, who's busy in the kitchen, comes rushing after 5 crucial minutes ('coz he was busy, can't you see?!), takes a close look, and with an astounding profound insight, tells you there's a burnt smell.
Pfffffffffffrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr - r e a l l y ? ! ?
He then takes a closer look, and informs you there's a part missing.
A part that, well, should be there, to, like, provide the right interface between the power cord and the laptop.
Small - yet essential.
Like Israel in the Middle East.
You go on all four, find the part (which was hiding and maliciously giggling under the couch).
It’s even smaller than expected.
Your husband puts it back in, plays with a screwdriver, but his face shows no sign of hope.
Remember, burnt smell?
Remember cold hand?
Your husband announces the time of death, and goes out to smoke (a major sign of stress).
A quick estimation of the situation reveals the following:
The desktop is well and fully working, but unreachable, as the partially-dusted monitor is still in its uncommunicative state.
The laptop, so it seems, has gone to the laptops heaven, pretty much in flames (well, almost... it could have!), with RIP suffixed to its name.
And it didn’t even have a name, alas.
You start to realize that you, well, have no computer.
The jitters take over the better parts of you.
You also wonder with astonishment:
"Two such incidents, on the very same day - what are the odds?"
Well, if your name is Nava, and you are married to The JohnnyB: 100%.
And now, I am blogging this over a monitor from the Middle-Ages, courtesy of TexieD, who let us borrow it on one condition: that we never ever give it back to him!
Apparently, he was too lazy to get rid of it, so he was very happy when The JohnnyB called him with a broken voice and drove all the way to fetch it.
And only now, as I try to decipher the fonts on this tiny shimmering screen of the monitor, do I truly appreciate how amazing our monitor is - and how I wish it was back with us...
And yet: THANK YOU, TexieD!!!
And The JohnnyB?
Ah, he is a very very happy man now, busy looking at the many silver linings of this cloud:
First, he is no longer sick. (he has passed it on to me, of course, but that's a different story).
Second, he was not the one who screwed up the laptop.
Third, he gets to research for a brand new laptop.
Fourth - he got a valid reason to disassemble the laptop to its parts, in order to see which part was damaged. (yet another tiny part).
And above all - and that should also make y'all very happy, due to the rich blogging potential: he gets to buy the damaged part on eBay ($25 plus shipping), and - - - try to rebuild the laptop as a science project.
Now, if you've been reading this blog long enough, you should get a certain sense of a disaster waiting to happen.
If you don't get it, refer to this,
I don't recall eve seeing such bliss, such joy in his eyes.
Not even on the day we got married...
And, on this optimistic note:
A VERY HAPPY 2007 TO YOU ALL!!!
Labels: Damn Technology, Wonders of The JohnnyB
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Model Steals The Show
Saw this on the Silly Humans blog, and had to shamelessly steal it.
Thanks, Michael!!
Created by an artist named Matt Carter.
In one word: !!מקסים (**)
Turn your speakers on, and click twice to watch.
And if I were a cynical person, I would have said:
"Next time, use charcoal!".
Good thing I'm not.
(**) The weekly lingual eductaion outreach:
(**) Pronounciation: 'Maxim'.
(**) Meaning: beautifully enchanting.
Labels: Art, Meta Bloggin'
Friday, December 29, 2006
He Is Sick. Again.
"Don't leave comments on sick people's blogs", I warn him. Again and again.
But he doesn't listen.
Never did. Never will.
He just goes on, commenting along, regardless of their reporting of cold and flu and vomiting and all the other graceful symptoms.
No wonder The JohnnyB got sick. Again.
He started shivering last night, having cold and hot spells, scared the hell out of me, and is now laying about, with the miserable look of a koala whose eucalyptus forest has just been consumed by a huge fire.
Sick while on vacation from work - that just sucks!
At least we had a wonderful day in Da City yesterday.
We went to the MOMA to see a truly incredible art exhibit by Anselm Kiefer.
Very bleak, very powerful, very holocaustic.
Even the highly critical The JohnnyB was impressed.
Although, when I tried to get a statement from him, for the record and the blog, it went like this:
(my sentences in soft feminine purple; The JohnnyB's Minnesotan syllabley-challenged grunts in masculine blue)
- "So, you liked the exhibit yesterday?"
- "Yes".
- "What did you think of it?"
- "I dunno".
Yep.
Married him for the conversation.
I got myself a membership.
One of my resolutions for the upcoming year is to try and take better advantage of living here, right next to a cultural center - with museums and art shows at top priority.
And, since this membership is damn expensive, we went through all floors of the MOMA.
They have some real cool exhibits there, and some highly annoying one.
The winner this time was three huge canvases painted white, juxtaposed next to each other in a horizontal layout.
I can't remember the name of the artist, but I think he titled this incredible work "White Noise".
Like, three bloody white canvases, which he painted white, diminishing all evidence of brush strokes and the artist's hand.
And next to it, is his lengthy artistic statement, that - among other blabbering, describes the masterpiece as, "...being not passive but very-well, hypersensitive. So that one could look at them and almost see how many people were in the room by the shadows cast".
Yeah... how's that working for ya?
Well, what can I say?
I once thought I am not there yet, that one day I shall understand the brilliant wisdom of such works.
Nope. Not anymore.
Now my only thought is that the guy is a genius.
'cause he managed to enter this Hmm, art, at the MOMA.
And now I thoroughly enjoy the faces of the visitors, all trying to look sophisticated and understating, as if they have seen the light and have truly grasped the true meaning and depth beneath it, or behind it, or wherever it may hide.
Highly amusing.
We lunched at the pretentiously expensive yet very tasty Cafe Muse, and left the bustling downtown for some green-seeing at the Golden Gate Park.
After walking and standing in the way-too-warm air-conditioned spaces of the MOMA, it felt nice to be outdoors. LumiB got some real nice shots of the very photogenic surroundings and refelctions.
Cool, Eh?
It was LumiB's first time in San Francisco, you see, and she was very, very excited.
Just as I get, every time we go there.
We strolled around one of the small lakes in the park.
It looked very pastoral and all, but once we got there, we found out it was probably a bad hood of the park, judging by the an atrocious and noisy duck-fight.
Probably a dispute between gangs.
The setting sun has lent itself to some dramatic views.
This is not a fire, mind you.
I repeat: this is not a fire!
Only the last rays of sun, peeping in between the trees, a minute before they took away the nice warm feeling and mercilessly left us to freeze.
Very Kinkade, as The JohnnyB pointed out, insulting me beyond description.
The park in general was surprisingly pretty, surprisingly empty, and not-so-surprisingly cold.
All in all, it was a really nice day out.
And today, The JohnnyB is sick...
Ah well - all I can do is hope for two things:
One, that it's yet another one of his 24-hour flues.
And two, that I won't catch it and upgrade it into the state-of-the-art full-blown executive flu, like only I can.
Y'see, being the dainty sophisticated woman that I am, I just don't do quickie-flu.
Hey - and I did not mention tea. Not even once!!!
Labels: Wonders of The JohnnyB
Just a short note (Ha! Funny!) to a wonderful friend,
with whom there was electricity the first time we met (literaly and practically).
When she arrived here on relocation, WolfieB asked me, "So, how is she getting used to the USA?", and my immediate reply was, "You should actually ask 'How is the USA getting used to her?'".
Although not blessed, alas, in the domain of altitude and stature,
she really is גבוהה מבפנים:
An incredible friend, who is the owner of a huge heart,
has been there for me throughout a variety of times, the good, the bad and the very worst -
and managed to do it without making me feel looked down-upon.
(well, that would be hard to do,. technically... ;-)
Yet another person who is both shockingly cynical and extremely sensitive, very open and real,
while juggling everything at the same time and taking the world into her hands (and to her heart).
Definitely of the "גזור ושמור" kind!
The friend with whose family The JohnnyB and I fell in love:
kids, husband, parents, the traveling nightingale brother and the infamous spitting sister.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GALIT!
The Christmas tree is awaiting y'all!
Labels: Birthday
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Imagine
In the spirit of peace-song blogging, started by Comandante Agí, Michael Bains and Blueberry:
here is something sent to me by the very Dina. (!תודה, משוש-עין)
The very famous "Imagine", sung by the Israeli singer Liel Kolet.
She sang it in Israel, a couple of years ago, I believe.
Accompanied by a choir of 40 Jewish children, 40 Arab children, and - one American former president.
Imagine...
Labels: Meta Bloggin'
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
The Usual Suspect
This morning, we woke up to this mess.Haven't touched it yet.
Need to wait until the investigation is over.
The only witness, so it seems, was the leaf on the right (now under WPP), a neighbor of the victim.
Mr. L (that's how we shall call it, for identity concealing) was watching the whole time, unable to help or lend a stem, other than keeping the victim company until the bitter end.
When we arrived at the scene, Mr. L . just looked at us, obviously under acute shock, its eyes full of expression and self-afflicted remorse.
.
I suddenly recalled hearing a serious thump at 2:37am.
And, looking closely, that the pattern created by the white surrounding line undoubtedly points at a certain emblem.
All this has led to the suspicion that it was the long hand of the pot-mafia.
Perhaps a matter of unsettled debt, some unpaid grass-money or fertilizer dispute, y'know, the usual stuff at this time of year.
Or simply a passion crime, involving family honor. The victim (RIP), with its fancy sweet-scented purple flowers, has caused many a blossom to turn their petals after it. You never know, when it comes to potted flowers.
Whatever the reason may be - we thought it would make a very good story.
But, when Mr. L. recovered and got back to its senses, assisted by a large glass of scotch, it told us of the tragedy, breaking into tears now and then. Being of a Bird of Paradise descent, it's extremely reliable, even if a bit emotional and very much in touch with its inner whatever.
Apparently - no real juicy story here.
It was the wind, ya see.
Living in the one-story-houses suburbia of the valley, with the alleged mild weather of mid-northern California, one would expect weather conditions that justify the insane taxes and cost of living.
Well, not quite...
It's been windy here in the past several days.
Very windy.
In the light of Blueberry's post from today, I find myself pondering:
Might this be caused by the effects of the Brussels sprouts we've had for Christmas Eve dinner?
(Oh indeed... , good taste, daintiness and sheer grace, this is what this blog is always about).
The JohnnyB is taking the week off, and so far, the weather really does not provide a lot of incentive to go out and play. Yesterday, despite the crazy winds and rain, we decided we just have to get out of the house and wander about.
Got to a nursery, and under pouring freezing rain looked for a plant for his new big cubicle that has a big window and great light. Haven't seen it yet - it's all a rumor, a hearsay.
Anyway - the cashier looked at us as if we have lost our minds... there we were, wet and cold and soggy, buying plants?
Yes!
"No rain nor wind shall break our spirits!", we announced, making our way in knee-deep puddles to the warm, dry car.
On the other hand... today we stayed at home, still munching on the Christmas meal leftovers (I think I shall never let a peace of smoked turkey pass the gates of my mouth ever again!).
It was sunny outside, but we are not that easily misled.
Not again.
Not us.
So we stayed in, watching the pots fly by, and mourning the plants whose delicate branches got broken and crushed by the cruel winds.
And so, loyal patient readers, who made it so far... when you stay at home, there's really not much fascinating stuff you can share with the world, except for how we are tending to our broken pots and mending bruised plants.
And this post is the ultimate proof.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
...And Santa Didn't Come!
Had a great Christmas dinner tonight.
The JohnnyB assembled the menu and pretty much prepared 99% of the feast on his own, while I was magnanimously* allowed to help with the appetizers, and set the table in a festive way.
(* Learned this word today - had to use it!)
Advice: don't ever use confetti for decorating the table!
Ever.
These little thingies make the table look very nice and festive and cheery.
And yet... after the third time of finding confetti on my plate, I told TexieD it's not cute, but then everyone started to find them on their plates and in their food, as if those shiny creatures have developed a life of their own.
Took us a while to solve the mystery: the little dearies got stuck to everything, and whenever we would raise a glass to drink, they would parachute right onto our plates, mimicking the gracefulness fall of snowflakes.
After dinner, we waddled to the living room, for the real purpose of Christmas: Da Gifts!!!
We did keep our promise: no gift-opening until our Christmas tree has a proper name.
Nimay wanted to name it Bob ('coz it's cool!), and Romir came up with Scrappy Doo ('coz it's scrappy!).
I was not much better - all I could come up with was ChrissyB. Yeah, I know - pathetic.
But then, when we were about to lose all hope at the face of utter lack of creativity, The Johnnyb announced the name should end with 'tree', and we instantly came up with the winning name: [drum roll] BIGATREE.
(TexieD insisted I should write it like this: Big A. Tree, so there).
As you can see, Bigatree is very pleased with the name he was bestowed.
He is practically beaming with joy.
And yes, it's a he.
Isn't it obvious?
And then, we could get to business.
The gifts were quite a success, for everyone.
Nimay and Romir were thrilled with the Knights Kingdom Lego and the irreverent book & calendar we got for them (those kids have an incredible sense of humor - it was quite challenging to keep up with them in real-time!), TexieD got some cool kitchen-stuff, and his better 95% got a nice silky scarf (very nice, if I might humbly add... I almost bought it for myself).
Then, TexieD became a hero for a long moment, which lasted from the second I opened my gift, until The JohnnyB opened his...
I was stunned by how TexieD managed to get one of the most incredible books I've been drooling over for a while (Anatomy for The Artist), causing me to temporarily become speechless, lose my eloquent vocabulary and reduce it to one single syllable: "Wow".
Then The JohnnyB opened his gift, also wowing at TexieD's choice, being something he wanted for a long time...
...now, if only TexieD would have played his cards right by getting The JohnnyB something other than a book, he would have retained his halo and fame for a long long time.
But his secret was revealed, easily and instantly.
Yep. Amazon wish lists.
Still, we were both utterly surprised!
(It then made sense to me why TexieD did not share my enthusiasm as I was browsing through the stunning photos and drawings, explaining to him the wonders of the book...).
And to Rhonda:
No need to go too far looking for the ultimate creative gift in order to make your husband happy!
I got The JohnnyB a beer calendar, plus the only gospel he will religiously read...
He was quite ecstatic about it - and I owe a big, huge Thank You to Michael Bains for the idea.
No Santa, though.
How shall I put it - I am starting to have doubts...
Labels: Holidays
ArtPact #5
Quick, before the week ends and I become a delinquent with my art pact!!
It was a real challenge to meet my commitment this week.
The winter blues has arrived, plus extreme tiredness, plus pre-Christmas feverishness, plus many more other lame excuses.
Another reason for my lack of enthusiasm was the fact that this week, I decided to actually start working on what I've been postponing for a while.
Here's the deal:
Several months ago, we (as in the critique group that I belong to), were offered to have an exhibit at the city hall of one of the fancier towns around here.
Obviously, we agreed.
Great opportunity, visibility and all.
You never say no to an opportunity to show your work.
But then came the catch: the subject is - - - pomegranates!
"Pomegranates", we all groaned in disbelief, "Why??".
'cause that's kinda the symbol of the town.
(OK, now... pomegranates, may I point out, grow all around, even in lesser towns, but that town has decided that they represent it. Oh well...).
Now, two issues with that:
1. The best way to drive any artist into a creative block combined with a huge sense of anti, is to dictate what to paint. Kinda collides with the whole point of art, which is to paint what your heart dictates.
2. Most of us in the group are anything but still-life painters. We have figure painters, portrait painters, and a lot of abstract non-objective painters. Still-life just doesn't do it to us.
So, for a few months, we all excelled at ignoring this commitment that we agreed to do.
Still, it's due in a couple of months...
WebbyM was the first one who started to work on pomegranates, and came up with some incredible paintings, and we all started envying her, as she was done, and is now painting cheerfully what she really wants to.
JaneyF and JaneyP have followed suit, with some real fun stuff, and then came GlazieM, with a wonderful painting dominated by countless hues of rich-reds. (She really didn't like it, though, exclaiming it looks like those Flemish shcool paintings, and needs a dead rabbit to be complete... Hmm... some artists just tend to be too harsh on temselves!).
So I decided it's time to face reality.
A couple of months ago, I picked some pomegranates from ShimmiR's backyard.
Beautiful they were.
Pink and smooth and plump and juicy and gorgeous.
Just like Nitzku's cheeks.
But unlike those glorious cheeks, these pomegranates totally did not cause me any desire to paint them. So they stayed on the kitchen table, rotting and drying and cracking, and developing character.
Last week we went to ShimmiR for Hanukka candle-kindling.
The JohnnyB went out for a smoke, and I joined him in the freezing backyard, and saw the very last remains of the pomegranates hanging on to a couple of the branches. The JohnnyB was appalled (what a lovely understatement) when I started picking them.
Can't really blame him.
They were quite, well, y'know, half dried, half rotten, cracked and filled with hideous-looking growths and and partly pecked by birds . . .
. . . I picked 3 - to his dismay and to ShimmiR's astonishment (she generously offered me to help myself to the rest of their garbage...).
But I ingored them non-artistic infidels.
I took my creative loot home.
In a double bag.
They were dripping, kinda...
And so, last night I got hold of my winter-bluesy-self, got my act together - and started a drawing, which I completed just now.
Quite rough and preliminary, and pretty much done as a basis for the paintings that shall follow - but hey, I met the ArtPact deadline! The week is not yet over!
Plus, I got my brush-mileage for the week. (more accurately, pencil-mileage, but it still counts).
So, here's my very first attempt at them:
"Outcasts #1", Graphite pencil on paper, 8.5x11.
Yes, they do not look very appetizing, but they have so much character, that I finally felt a tiny inclination to actually capture what I saw in them, and put it on paper.
Time to go help The JohnnyB in the kitchen. TexieD, his better 95% and their kids are arriving in less than 2 hours, and the level of crankiness is starting to rise...
Saturday, December 23, 2006
The true Spirit(s) of Christmas...
It's really neat, the things you sometimes find while blog-hopping on a cold night, when that infamous winter-blues laziness takes over, and you'd do anything to avoid doing something.
Yes, even to avoid painting.
Got to this one via a comment left by someone to someone who left a comment for me, and figured that many of you would highly appreciate this tree that I found on his blog.
(The first someone's blog, that is.
.Hey, you're not paying attention!).
Take a closer look.
Click on the image to get to the original "My boring Life" blog, and a bigger picture.
Thanks, Adz!
Labels: Holidays
Friday, December 22, 2006
HanuChristmas: Change of Guards
Last evening, we went to JaneyP's for a nice homey candle-lighting.
It was a very unique experience: they are actually Christian, but like to interlace other traditions into their lives.
I tried to not comment too much on the artistic freedom they took in the how-to domain... I think the JohnnyB was more bothered than I was, which I found highly amusing.
The candles-lighting was accompanied by a feast of wonderful latkes (by JaneyP), incredible garlicky Caesar salad (by JohnnyP), and Sufganyot for dessert - by yours truly.
(OK now... Sufganyot are the ultimate traditional Hanukka food. They are similar to doughnuts, but quite different in flavor and much lighter, which is very deceiving).
It was the very first time I made them, as far as I recall, and they turned out almost like the ones my mom used to make. (I said almost!).
Between the latkes and the Sufganyot, all healthily deep-fried, there must have been at least a bottle of Canola oil.... and yet, we all ate like there is no tomorrow.
Apparently, there was a tomorrow - and it started really, really bad.
I woke at dawn and spent some lovely quality time throwing up everything I ever ate since I was three years old.
But, since I am not into barf-blogging, I shan't expand on the subject, and we'll just leave it at that.
Tonight, we kindled the candles (the wonders of English language: why do you kindle with a K candles with a C?) for the very last time until next year, and they posed nicely next to the Christmas tree.
Quite a cool coincidence that
the solstice this year parallels the changing of guards from Hanukka to
Christmas.
From now on, the tree shall lighten the cold nights.
No, it has no name yet. We only got one suggestion so far, and neither of us can figure it out (Dre?????).
In our distress, we decided that TexieD's kids might find the perfect name, so on Christmas eve dinner, they can open their gifts only after they name the tree.
"Unfair!", you say?
Well, tough.
Desperation calls for extreme measurements.
A very peculiar thing happened shortly after the candle-lighting:
I've been celebrating Hanukka for over 40 years now (yeah, time flies when you are having fun), and I have never, ever, in my entire life, seen this kind of waxy avalanche in Hanukka candles.
And The JohnnyB had such an innocent look, that - though it was easy to point at him as the usual suspect - I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, and ascribe this phenomena to, well... I dunno!
Took me a whole minute before I realized the great photographic potential behind the tragedy and went into action, discovering LumiB's incredible ability to take pictures in macro mode, in the dark, no flash, no tripod.
Purist, that's what I am!
Oh, as for the creative shapes of the flames, well.... they might have resulted from my huffing and puffing, like, on the candles... while paparazzying them... perhaps... just a bit...
Hey, anything for the sake of art, yeah?
It's going to be pure joy to clean up this Hanukkia* tomorrow...
* Hanukkia is the proper name for the Menora you light on Hanukka.
Don't ever say you don't get educated on this blog...
Labels: Holidays
Still Looking For That Special Gift?....
...it's not too late!
Here's a last-moment idea, that goes pretty well with Silly Humans theme for today. (It even comes with instructions).
Thanks, HoytieB, for this valuable contribution!
...and yet, that still doesn't help us ladies with our quest for the ultimate gift for the man in our life.
Labels: Joke, Meta Bloggin'
Thursday, December 21, 2006
A Thousand Words - And Then Some #4
So, since I have shown The JohnnyB desecrating the Hanukka candles, here's the other side of the coin. Sent by LexieV.
I have no idea who these boys are, but it made even me cringe...
No Santa's coming down their chimney this year, that's for sure.
previous 1000 Words... ...next 1000 words
Labels: Desecration, Joke
It's Soooooooooo Cold!
So bloody cold!
It's so cold, that The JohnnyB wears a coat when he goes to smoke in the backyard.
No, you need to understand:
When The JohnnyB is cold, he just rolls down his sleeves.
"Coats are for sissies", he sayeth, with an over-emphasized Minnesotan accent.
(A Little Lunch For Thought™:
.How can Minnesotans have an accent, when they speak no more than two words at a time?
.Eh?).
And yet, for the past couple of days, whenever the excess fresh air in his lungs reaches the point that he cannot take it any longer, and has to dilute it with the good ol' cough-stuff, The JohnnyB sheepishly puts on a coat, his hazel eyes looking at me apologetically (no, not due to the smoking; because of the coat!), and he sprints out to break yet another record in quickie-smokage.
Today he informed me, officially, that "the water in the faucet is so cold - feels like Minnesota!".
Now, that Is cold.
Above average, as they say. Yup.
One would expect that at least we shall have some snow falling here.
But nooooooooooo.
"We live in a valley", explains the very patient The JohnnyB to his very impatient lovely wife
Yeah, I know
I know that the topography, geography, weatherography and demography in our neck of the Silicon woods do not exactly lend themselves to snow.
I KNOW ALL THAT!
BUT IT'S COLD!!!
It's freezin' and flippin' and freakin' COLD!!
And for nothing!
Why can't we have a soft white banket cover everything, together with that unmatched absolute quiet that accompanies snow?
(I grew up with snow, y'see.
.Well, we had it once a year.
.Or every other year.
.Yes, we do have snow in the land of milk and honey and unique fonts.
.And Jerusalem in snow, dear readers, is a vision in white. Breathtaking).
All over the blogosphere, you read cheerful posts, bragging and boasting about blizzards and horizontal snow, with photos ostentatiously uploaded and snowmen (sorry - this is PC-land... snow-persons) popping everywhere - - -
- - - and we, we raise our longing eyes up to the grayish sky, that once in a while gets penetrated by a wandering ray of sun, which gives the optical illusion that it's actuality safe and fun to go outside.
So one goes out, wearing an optimistic sweatshirt (like, it is, after all, sunny California, right?), and then one's nose instantly falls off, and one picks it up off the snowless ground, and runs back inside, to sit in a big hot mug of tea until May.
I am definitely dreaming of a white Christmas!
I'll settle for off-white.
!!!קר לי, רבאק
Labels: Venting
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
OK, Time to Admit It: It's Me!
Speechless!
I am speechless.
Utterly.
My throat is all choked. And my teary, teary eyes...
I, Nava, was chosen as TIME's
ME!!!!
Oh.
It's so, so hard to steady my voice, wait . . . even my hand is shaking as I type these words.
Forgive my stutter.
It's not every day that you get such an honor.
And I am just a silly woman, whose emotions overcome her.
I don't quite know how to respond.
Honestly.
I mean, I was kinda secretly hoping for it, I admit,
But I didn't quite expect it! Really.
No, I wasn't.
I am not even a citizen of this country, I have an accent, I don't always understand all that is said to me, and people mostly don't understand what I have to say.
And yet - there it is, in writing!
Thank you, MichaelBains, for pointing it out to me.
I am so humble in my nature, y'see, I wasn't even aware of it.
It seems like some people have demurrers.
I dare say, objections even, to the TIME's choice, and they are offering what they see as better candidates.
Can you believe it?
Also, you'd expect friends calling to congratulate me.
Not even one.
But, you know how it is: so many people nowadays are just too small, and can never be happy for others.
I am sure some people would even go as low as to say that I am taking this too personally.
But I know it's the ugly green strident voice of jealousy speaking out of their unchosen throats.
I am above it.
I have more important things to focus on now.
After all, as shy and introvert as I am, how am I going to deal with the fame?
How am I going to not crack under the pressure?
Will I manage to not let this go to my head?
And I have nothing to wear!!!
...and my hair - Ahhhh, I think I am having an anxiety attack!!
Can I cope with it all?
But here I am, blabbering lengthily, and forgetting the important thing:
I feel obliged to thank you all.
You have all helped me to reach this day.
Each of you, in your unique way, have made an impact.
And, I shall not forget it.
I promise, I won't.
Thank You.
I am so grateful to be recognized.
Really, I am.
(still, I can't help thinking: why just TIME magazine? Why wasn't I chosen by LIFE as well?
And here's an even bigger dilemma:
I really need to go out now, to run some errunds, but - with all those paparazzi. . .
I can't see them, but I know they are hiding out there.
The stress!!!
And at this time of distress, I cannot even {sigh}™ properly, as MichaelBains will come running, demanding usage fee.
Ah well, better face it now.
I shall brace myself.
OK, world, here I am.
Labels: It's All About Me, Major Achievements
Sunday, December 17, 2006
A Thousand Words - And Then Some #3
Hanukka, first evening.
The JohnnyB enthusiastically lights the first candle, according to the way it was meant to be done.
But then, he proves he has not quite assimilated the concept of
As 'RIK wisely diagnosed:
"John's irreverence is just one of the things that makes him so endearing...".
Whichever light you are celebrating:
HAPPY FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS
Labels: Desecration, Holidays, Wonders of The JohnnyB
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Literally and Literarily Tagged!
Got tagged by Blueberry.
I am still procrastinating on Michael Bains' tag, but that one's easier...
The rules:
- Find the nearest book.
- Name the book and the author.
- Turn to page 123.
- Go to the fifth sentence on the page.
- Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog.
- Tag three more folks.
OK then...
Being in the living room, the nearest book to me is The Official Scrabble Dictionary. That doesn't count.
The near-nearest book only has 109 pages...
Playing by the rules, I go to the nearest book on the bookshelf - a book about Gustav Klimt.
Lotta pages - looks promising...
...Page 123 has, surprise surprise, a big reproduction of a painting...
Gheeze!
This is becoming hectic...
So - going into the bedroom, there are two books at the top of the pile on my very messy dresser.
And - sorry folks - the nearest one is in Hebrew!
Problematic, but not undoable...
The book is called, "כימים אחדים" by מאיר שלו, my favorite Israeli author.
It was actually translated to English, under the name "The Loves of Judith", by Meir Shalev.
Going to page 123, skipping 5 sentences, and here we go, Hebrew first:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
רבקה פתחה ופניה קדרו למראה האורח, אבל זה ראה את יעקב מעבר לכתפה ושאל אותו אם ירצה לבקר בבית החדש של הציפורים
.ריח מאובק וחמים, זה ריח הנוצות והנסורת המוכר לכל מגדל ציפורים ואפרוחים, כבר עמד בחדר החדש
And the translation (copied from "
And when he completed the construction, the albino came and knocked on Jacob's door.
Rebecca opened it and her face turned gloomy when she saw the guest, but the albino saw Jacob over her shoulder and asked him if he wanted to visit "the birds' new house".
Already in the new room there was a dusty hot smell, the smell of sawdust and feathers familiar to everyone who breeds birds and chicks.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(Hmm... not a very inspired translation, I have to say).I read this book several years ago, and read it again a couple of weeks ago. .
(I alternate between Hebrew and English books, the books in Hebrew being a break from the effort involved in reading English. Hopefully, I'll eventually reach the stage where I can enjoy a book in English without sweating it too much).
I love this book.
The author, in all his novels (6 so far, I think), goes back and forth in time (in a similar manner to Gabriel Garcia Marquez in 'One Hundred Years of Solitude'). He has this wonderful talent to sweep you into the story, with his bittersweet style and great dry sense of humor.
Obviously, I cannot judge by three sentences, but I do hope it did not get list in the translation.
And now for the fun part:
Since The JohnnyB refuses to go for "chain-letter-like" things {sigh} (OK, OK - apparently, ™ed by Michael Bains):
CherkyB, Michael Bains, Patrick Ellis and Rhonda: you are tagged!
(Yeah, I know it says to tag 3 folks, but rules were meant to be broken, Eh?)
Oh, C'mon!!
Don't y'all give me that look!
It's not that bad, really!
I actually enjoyed it - Thanks, Blueberry!
A Little Lunch For Thought (TM) #4
So, Carter is now trying to get out of the mess he has created for himself (and sadly, for others).
As reported, he has issued a letter to American Jews, "clarifying his use of the word in recent book on Israel-Palestinian conflict. . . explaining the use of the term 'apartheid' in his new book on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and sympathizing with Israelis who fear terrorism".
What a dear dear man!
How sweet of him.
Ohhh - let me wipe a tear of gratitude from the corner of my eye.
And then the other.
And I can't help wondering:
If someone feels strongly enough to write one's feelings and opinions in a book, and find a selling title for it, why does one suddenly fold and start apologizing and explaining that one actually did not really mean it this way... and one actually likes Jews a lot... and one just looooooves Falafel... and what a lovely accent Israelis have...
And one did not really mean Apartheid per se, Nooooooooooo!!!
One meant A Pad Thai (*)... or was it Appetite?
Well, whateva. One was hungry when one chose the title, y'see, and ooopsi - it got to the print!
And, if I may ask: why address only American Jews?
There are many others who will suffer the consequences of this book.
I am not quite sure how to put it, but let me just say it out in the open (I sure hope I am not surrendering any highly confidential secrets here):
Y'know, recent comprehensive researches have proven beyond doubt that there are Jews not only in America.
Can you imagine?!?
They are - so inconveniently - all over the place. Hell, there are even a couple in Israel!
What a coincidence! Isn't it that Apartheid place?!
Yes, someone did try to get rid of them a while ago, but kinda failed, Alas.
Oh, wait... I might be speaking too soon!
There's still a debate happening.
The holocaust hasn't been voted on, as of yet.
I apologize, dear readers, for my hastily wild assumptions and vivid imagination.
Until proven otherwise, by the geniuses in that conference, the holocaust has not happened.
It was just a fairytale, made up by evil parents to force their little kids to finish their dinner, "or else, bad uncle Hitler will come and get you and tickle you with his mustache".
Those tatooed numbers on the arms are Henna! What a funny, funny hoax! They come off, y'see, especially if you use gas.
Stay tuned, as the next debate, so I hear, is September 11th.
But back to my main man.
Apparently, "The group's chairman, Rabbi Andrew Straus, said he was "very appreciative" of the letter and believes Carter is sincere, but disagrees with the use of 'apartheid'".
Sincere... yeah, right!
Carter reminds me of those spineless criminals who start crying in court, whining their deep remorse for what they did, apologizing to the victim's relatives.
Not because they regret it. But because now they are in trouble.
They are also sincere.
This apologetic clarification is perceived as so lame and pathetic, and it is so clear he (or his party?) is afraid to lose the support of American Jews, that he's better off without it.
Either be man enough to stand behind what you wrote, or have the integrity to say "Fuck y'all, I wanted to provoke and have a catchy-title and be in the spotlight and sell many many books".
And if you really didn't mean it literally, be wise enough to not publish it in the first place.
It's not like it was a slip of the tongue, Eh?
A slip of the keyboard can always be edited and reconsidered - and, if need, deleted.
And here's a thought (as the title promises), assuming Carter is reading my blog (which I am sure he is):
If you really do empathize so much with Israel, and if you really do "understand Israelis' fear of terrorism, and reiterate strong condemnation of any such acts of terrorism", and you are so filled with touchy-feely emotions -
-
- -
- - - why don't you put your money where your mouth is, and donate all the profits from your book to the war on terror?
Now, THAT would be sincere.
(*) Thank you, The JohnnyB
previous little lunch... ...next little lunch
Labels: Little Lunch for Thought, Making a Difference, Venting, WTF?
Friday, December 15, 2006
A Thousand Words - And Then Some #2
This one, as opposed to the previous, is not mine.
Got it from MikeyB, the Paintermon (THANKS!!), googled for the source, and had to share.
As the source, Alternate Brain, says:
An archeological team, digging in Washington DC, has uncovered 10,000 year old bones and fossil remains of what is believed to be the first Politician.
Previous 1000 Words... ...Next 1000 words
Labels: Joke, Meta Bloggin'
It Worked!!!
Apparently, my protestethment seems to have worked, like magic!
I have just managed to leave comments to three of them Beta bloggers!
Just like in the good old days, under my true identity, and with my very own controversial photo!
I am cured!!! I have a face again - as do all the loyal bloggers who did not give in to assimilation!
Hurrah!
Never underestimate the power of the written word, ladies and laddies.
Be it by pen or keyboard.
(And yes, of course it was thanks to my blog post!
As I have recently learned from WackieM:
"Pass on the blame, take the credit when ever you can!")
Jingle Bells and sunshine!
I can hardly contain the joy!!
I'd better go get a life now.
Labels: Major Achievements
Thursday, December 14, 2006
'Tis The Season
In the last couple of weeks, I was walking around with a pious smile, declaring how sensible we are (The JohnnyB and myself, that is) for not getting into this crazy present-amuck that's going around here.
And then we decided to invite TexieD, his better 95% and his kids for Christmas eve dinner...
And so, there went my smirking gloat.
When hearing this, BlaineyC mused: "What I want to know, is it divine justice that you were so happy not to have to get those Christian gifts and now you do?". Well, I guess I deserved that.
Hence I suddenly fully relate to the following bit I got from VallieM.
She, so it seems, is knee-deep in gifts, quilting and wrapping these days, and yet found the time to send this.
Thanks, Val!
- - - - - - -
This is the time of year when we think back to the very first Christmas, when the Three Wise Men: Gaspar, Balthazar and Herb, went to see the baby Jesus and - according to the Book of Matthew - "presented unto Him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh."
These are simple words, but if we analyze them carefully, we discover an important, yet often overlooked, theological fact:
There is no mention of wrapping paper.
If there had beenwrapping paper, Matthew would have said so:
"And lo, the gifts were inside 600 square cubits of paper. And the paper was festooned with pictures of Frosty the Snowman. And Joseph was going to throw it away, but Mary saith unto him, 'Hold it! That is nice paper!” And she saveth it for next year! And Joseph rolleth his eyeballs. And the baby Jesus was more interested in the paper than the frankincense."
But these words do not appear in the Bible, which means that the very first Christmas gifts were NOT wrapped.
This is because the people giving those gifts had two important characteristics:
1. They were wise.
2. They were men.
Men are not big gift wrappers.
Men do not understand the point of putting paper on a gift just so somebody else can tear it off.
This is not just my opinion.
This is a scientific fact based on a statistical survey of two guys I know.
One is Rob, who said the only time he ever wraps a gift is "if it's such a poor gift that I don't want to be there when the person opens it."
The other is Karl, who told me he does wrap gifts, but as a matter of principle never takes more than 15 seconds per gift. "No one ever had to wonder which presents Daddy wrapped at Christmas," Karl said. "They were the ones that looked like enormous spitballs."
Other men also wrap gifts, but because of some defect in their motor skills, they can never completely wrap them. They can take a gift the size of a deck of cards and put it the exact center of a piece of wrapping paper the size of a regulation volleyball court, but when they are done folding and taping, you can still see a sector of the gift peeking out.(Sometimes they camouflage this sector with a marking pen.) If they had been an ancient Egyptian in the field of mummies, the lower half of the Pharaoh's body would be covered only by Scotch tape.
On the other hand, if you give most women a 12-inch square of wrapping paper, they can wrap a C-130 cargo plane. Many women actually like wrapping things. If they give you a gift that requires batteries, they wrap the batteries separately,which to me is very close to being a symptom of mental illness.
My point is that gift-wrapping is one of those skills like having babies, that come more naturally to women than to men. That is why today I am presenting:
GIFT-WRAPPING TIPS FOR MEN:
1. Whenever possible, buy gifts that are already wrapped. If, when the recipient opens the gift, neither one of you recognizes it, you can claim that it's myrrh.
2 If you're giving a hard-to-wrap gift, skip the wrapping paper! Just put it inside a bag and stick one of those little adhesive bows on it. This creates a festive visual effect that is sure to delight the lucky recipient on Christmas morning.
YOUR WIFE: "Why is there a Hefty trash bag under the tree?"
YOU: "It's a gift! See? It has a bow!"
YOUR WIFE (peering into the trash bag): "It's a leaf blower."
YOU: "Gas-powered! Five horsepower!"
YOUR WIFE: "I want a divorce."
YOU: "I also got you some myrrh."
3. The editors of Woman's Day magazine recently ran an item on how to make your own wrapping paper by printing a design on it with an apple sliced inhalf horizontally and dipped in a mixture of food coloring and liquid starch. They must be smoking crack!
In conclusion, remember that the important thing is not what you give, or how you wrap it.
The really important thing, during this very special time of year, is …
….that you save the receipt.
- - - - - - -
And I say: HAPPY HANUKKA to y'all
חג אורים שמח
Labels: Holidays, Joke, Meta Bloggin'
