I hate the word "blogosphere." (Ooh, end-of-sentence scare quotes. And in my head, my own voice saying something I say every day: In American English, periods and commas always go inside quotation marks unless there's a parenthetical in the way. You will occasionally see this done differently; that generally means the source is British, because the international rule is different. It's weird spending your day teaching rules you regard as a little dumb. At some point I must post the list of grammar rules I would be happy to help kill). I'm hereby inventing the word "bloggerverse."
Anyway. The links, covering recentish opinions in technology, academics, :
Ian Bogost's post "The Turtlenecked Hairshirt", being a discussion of the ivory-tower nature of academia which amused me highly and lit a fire under my rounded tail as to seriously thinking about a paper on gender and sexuality in Echo Bazaar. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to unreservedly agree with his stated premise, though I believe him to be deliberately exaggerating, but his apocalyptic language reminds me of one of my deeply-held beliefs: The humanities spend a lot of time reinventing the wheel because each sub-discipline invents its separate, insular jargon. For someone with training in Comparative Literature to attempt to approach anthropological ethnography, for someone with a sociologist's education to attempt to analyze the obscure greats of Renaissance drama, results in a lot of headache, heartache and "bridge theory" that is roundly denigrated by an endless legion of theoretical purists.
Lindy West's pleasingly well-reasoned anger after a rather thoughtless but not ill-intentioned moment from estimable sex columnist Dan Savage. The whole debate is well worth The Stranger's nauseatingly ridiculous load times, because they both make great cases. I am personally of the opinion that the U.S. uses food as a way to displace and/or extend our oddly Puritanical relationship with sex. Think about the phrase "guilty pleasure." Porn? Or cheesecake? Slut shaming and shock at teen sexting and obsession with celebrity affairs seems to me to go hand in hand with condescending diet ads and horror of minors who fail to be delicate-waiflike-and-breastless and our fascination with eating disorders. Consider the fact that walking into a primarily-female workplace (like, sadly, my writing center) will eventually involve listening to one of our peculiarly American social rituals: The expression of efforts to avoid the fat-and-lazy taboo, commisseration over how hard it is to feel that we are indeed avoiding the taboo, the offering of advice to use various forms of asceticism in order to avoid a taboo which each feels is threatening her every day. Think about this.
For the record, I wear a 20, 22 or 24 depending on brand. M is less of an extreme hourglass and is generally a 20. She's the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I thought so when I met her in person the very first time: "She's much bigger than I expected," I thought, and also, "She's stunning." I've found two brands of jeans that fit me very well. I occasionally wish that my size were distributed differently (which varies from "God, I wish my belly would just go away" to "What the hell is with my long torso and short limbs?" to "God, I wish I didn't have such a disproportionately small waist; no one makes trousers with this much waist tailoring" -- yes, seriously). I enjoy growing my own food, I enjoy preparing it, I enjoy serving it, I enjoy eating it, and I consider this a far greater pleasure than being able to buy pants in multiple brands. I will worry about my size when I can no longer bend double to mulch my snow pea vines, or walk around the apartment complex or the nearby woods on a nice afternoon as M and I often do. Furthermore, if I dropped ten pounds I wouldn't cry. If I dropped ten sizes? I'd cry. Because I would no longer find myself attractive. I like big women. I like big men. I dislike people who dress inappropriately or with poor fit. And if others have the right to say they think my ass is unsightly, then I also get to say this: I find drawn faces masklike and unattractive. I find visible ribs repulsive. And would I say this to people who exhibit these features? No, because I have a level of gentility and sensitivity and their unsightly thinness has no effect on me.
Also, go read the introduction to The Omnivore's Dilemma for a lot of interesting information, including this jewel: The French food culture is heavily, heavily based on cheeses. Cheeses. Now talk to me about the French obesity epidemic and how much worse than the U.S. it is. I'm waiting.
And now that you're either suitably depressed, suitably enraged, or suitably disgusted (hey, it's up to you!), one more, cheerier link:
An interview selection from my latest Mother Earth News email newsletter featuring the proprietors of Green Heron Tools, which makes ergonomic agricultural tools for women. It's an interesting discussion of the necessity of acknowledging physical difference as a necessary step to full gender equality -- though I'd love to see some throwaway lines (one day, somewhere) about the role that society plays in "biological" difference between genders, I'm very impressed with the interviewees and their social consciousness.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Things that M hates
The most "statementy" statement piece I've ever made, which I decided, after consideration, to actually relist now, because I still really like it:
Available here.
People either love this or hate it. It's very "tribal," though the word still bothers me. I love how you can see the texture in the lustrous coral daggers, though it dates from before I decided I'd only buy coral as responsibly-collected focals. I'm fond of the pyrite and chose the clearest carvings for this piece, though it does apparently weather significantly. I did once have someone at UCR ask if I could do a long one with a few of the coral sticks for a man. I should probably still do that; I have some beads that look like peach pits and African trade beads that these would blend well with, and it is right about time to start marketing summer items.
Available here.
People either love this or hate it. It's very "tribal," though the word still bothers me. I love how you can see the texture in the lustrous coral daggers, though it dates from before I decided I'd only buy coral as responsibly-collected focals. I'm fond of the pyrite and chose the clearest carvings for this piece, though it does apparently weather significantly. I did once have someone at UCR ask if I could do a long one with a few of the coral sticks for a man. I should probably still do that; I have some beads that look like peach pits and African trade beads that these would blend well with, and it is right about time to start marketing summer items.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Treasury Wednesday: Hawthorn tree, your body burns ...
This was actually heavily inspired by Heather Dale's "The Hawthorn Tree." I didn't link it in the treasury itself, mostly because I'm not sure you're supposed to (Etsy rarely bothers to follow offsite links and see what they are before deleting the content for inappropriate self-advertisement) but also because I only really like the acoustic version -- it's quieter, more focused on the vocals, and captures the sense of love and frustration and resignation and yearning that really should be part of the Merlin/Vivian story -- but the rather bizarre jazz-beat modern version is here.
Black, green and natural; a lonely life, but a free one.
'The Hawthorn' by tangopig
Black, green and natural; a lonely life, but a free one.
 exotic wood magnets... $8.00 |  Lunch time at the s... $150.00 |  Ignite - Print of o... $12.00 |  hawthorn wood rune ... $48.00 |
 Natural Edged Hawth... $80.00 |  Frolick in Dappled ... $23.00 |  Pretzel Bread - S... $10.00 |  Book of Kells in Wo... $50.00 |
 Rainy Day at the Be... $10.00 |  Sword $189.00 |  HAWTHORNE - Crosspa... $20.00 |  Long Leather Spiral... $50.00 |
 Old Barn Window - 1... $25.00 |  To Offer Shade - Tr... $24.00 |  Lone Flower - 5 x 7... $10.00 |  Scrolled Nail Ring $45.00 |
Treasury tool is sponsored by Lazzia.com A/B image testing.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Colorways
Sometime in the last few months I read an article or blog post, which I cannot now locate, in which a jewelry artist mentioned having found a thrift-store copy of a book called something like Color Combinations for Oil Painters which she regularly used in her design process.
Longtime readers will be able to predict that I was a little mystified by this for a moment, because I am a Bad Artist, or at any rate one who apparently functions a little differently from most. After some thinking, I realized that most of this is a result of my style: I generally construct around a focal, so the combination of colors I should use is in front of me and it's a simple matter of finding surrounding shades -- I can't remember the technical name for them; the shade and tint or highlight/lowlight of a particular hue, and I know there's a name for that. It's like if I had a focal that was orange and leaf green I would select beads in blood orange and canteloupe, forest and mint to set it off nicely.
Anyway. Even when I'm doing without focals or creating my own, I generally work from a "character" or a "concept" or a "story" (I am leery of these terms, and thus place them in scare quotes) rather than a color combination. I make jewelry for the characters in manga I read, I dream up jewelry to go with suggested wedding themes in design blogs I run across, I pick leftover beads out of the cups in my bead board and make something with those to avoid sorting them back, I imagine my earrings based on the hairstyle they'd suit or what color M has complained about not having enough of lately. I can come to the bead board thinking "Okay, aqua, brown and olive," as I did with this (older) piece:
But that's a challenge. I suppose that means I should be doing it more. But it's much more natural for me to start picking stuff out while my brain repeats "a dragonfly that landed in a glass of iced lemonade" (yes, really; I didn't have enough crystalline yellows for that one to work) or "Mempis city rain" or "that minute when they first come into Rivendell in The Fellowship of the Ring." This is really just another part of my love affair with words: Color names are more inspiring to me than color shades.
If there happens to be any other designer like me, I have found this a handy resource: Randall Munroe's color survey worked out how people name various web colors -- sorted by colorblindness and sex-at-birth.
Other than that, I resolve that sometime this month I am going to take one of those jewelry color-choice tools and actually use it for an actual piece of jewelry. So there, brain.
So there.
Longtime readers will be able to predict that I was a little mystified by this for a moment, because I am a Bad Artist, or at any rate one who apparently functions a little differently from most. After some thinking, I realized that most of this is a result of my style: I generally construct around a focal, so the combination of colors I should use is in front of me and it's a simple matter of finding surrounding shades -- I can't remember the technical name for them; the shade and tint or highlight/lowlight of a particular hue, and I know there's a name for that. It's like if I had a focal that was orange and leaf green I would select beads in blood orange and canteloupe, forest and mint to set it off nicely.
Anyway. Even when I'm doing without focals or creating my own, I generally work from a "character" or a "concept" or a "story" (I am leery of these terms, and thus place them in scare quotes) rather than a color combination. I make jewelry for the characters in manga I read, I dream up jewelry to go with suggested wedding themes in design blogs I run across, I pick leftover beads out of the cups in my bead board and make something with those to avoid sorting them back, I imagine my earrings based on the hairstyle they'd suit or what color M has complained about not having enough of lately. I can come to the bead board thinking "Okay, aqua, brown and olive," as I did with this (older) piece:
But that's a challenge. I suppose that means I should be doing it more. But it's much more natural for me to start picking stuff out while my brain repeats "a dragonfly that landed in a glass of iced lemonade" (yes, really; I didn't have enough crystalline yellows for that one to work) or "Mempis city rain" or "that minute when they first come into Rivendell in The Fellowship of the Ring." This is really just another part of my love affair with words: Color names are more inspiring to me than color shades.
If there happens to be any other designer like me, I have found this a handy resource: Randall Munroe's color survey worked out how people name various web colors -- sorted by colorblindness and sex-at-birth.
Other than that, I resolve that sometime this month I am going to take one of those jewelry color-choice tools and actually use it for an actual piece of jewelry. So there, brain.
So there.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Tutorial: Wire-Wrapped Earrings
I figured I might as well do a free jewelry tutorial at some point, so why not the wire-wrapped bridal earrings from February? They're a lovely simple, graceful, infinitely customizable design that can be made more or less casual. And maybe I can get the photo onto Craftgawker (unlikely; they like their straight-on hero shots at Craftgawker, though it's much easier to be vetted in now, either because I've improved more than I realize or because they're no longer permitting Etsy post photos so there's drastically less competition).
Anyhow.
Free Handmade Jewelry Tutorial: How to Make Hand-Brushed Wire-Wrapped Earrings
suitable for bridal, formal or casual wear, with a subtle 14k brushed gold finish.
You will need:
- 8 inches (or so) 21g 14k gold-filled wire, dead soft
- 2 round 10mm beads
- 2 contrasting round 6mm beads
- 1 pair gold-filled earwires
- flush cutters
- round-nose pliers
- chain-nose pliers
- sanding block
-nylon-jawed pliers
The sanding block can be acquired inexpensively at your local hardware store. As for the rest, get the good stuff. Instructions after the jump.
Anyhow.
Free Handmade Jewelry Tutorial: How to Make Hand-Brushed Wire-Wrapped Earrings
suitable for bridal, formal or casual wear, with a subtle 14k brushed gold finish.
You will need:
- 8 inches (or so) 21g 14k gold-filled wire, dead soft
- 2 round 10mm beads
- 2 contrasting round 6mm beads
- 1 pair gold-filled earwires
- flush cutters
- round-nose pliers
- chain-nose pliers
- sanding block
-nylon-jawed pliers
The sanding block can be acquired inexpensively at your local hardware store. As for the rest, get the good stuff. Instructions after the jump.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Treasury Wednesday: Bright, Bright, Bright!
The brights of my garden inspired this one, and thinking about the fact that I've never owned chalcedony because the colors vary so much that I never know it when I see it. It contains some really unusual items, not my normal sort of thing, so I thought it was worth posting on the blog.
Aqua and red and pink and orange. Inspired by the flowers sprouting in my garden and the brilliant candy shades of chalcedony.
'The Garden of Chalcedonies' by tangopig
Aqua and red and pink and orange. Inspired by the flowers sprouting in my garden and the brilliant candy shades of chalcedony.
 little handmade dol... $13.00 |  Original Fairy Flow... $14.00 |  Pink Rose on Bright... $24.00 |  Turquoise and Red F... $60.00 |
 Setting Sun Embroid... $25.00 |  Wonderfully Intense... $14.00 |  bright magical gard... $26.00 |  Coral Ribbon Neckla... $12.00 |
 Aqua Red Hibiscus B... $28.00 |  Chloe's Classic... $22.00 |  Paint Chip - The Or... $65.00 |  MAGNESITE TURQUOISE... $39.00 |
 Tapestry Tote with ... $88.00 |  A Dozen Dahlias flo... $4.00 |  Peaceful- 8x10 Prin... $18.00 |  Elegant Sex Appeal ... $31.00 |
Treasury tool is sponsored by Lazzia.com A/B image testing.
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Chopping Block
Every so often I find it necessary to pull something from the shop for one reason or another. The vast majority of things that disappear from the listings are still in my inventory, I've just let them lapse because their photos are subpar or they weren't drawing traffic in or I was tired of editing the listings.
Occasionally, though, "test driving" or a more appraising eye reveals that I actually need to remove something:
This weird updated-1960s-tribal-safari-ethnic-thing necklace, an experimental piece where each bead is rosary-linked to a charm -- arguably an earlier step in the evolution that led to the found-object button necklaces -- works fine and looks awesome if you're willing to take the time to make sure the rosary-linked chain is hanging straight ... but it turns out that all your care will then be undone, because by some accident of physics if the toggle is sitting where it's supposed to, it slips right open. The pewter elephant ones are usually secure, it's just a strangeness of physics.
Speaking of a strangeness of physics: It takes about three point five to four inches for seven-strand stainless steel jewelry wire to equalize its own tension sufficiently to lie flat. Shorter bracelets will almost always have a slight curve. Aren't you glad you know this now?
Occasionally, though, "test driving" or a more appraising eye reveals that I actually need to remove something:
This weird updated-1960s-tribal-safari-ethnic-thing necklace, an experimental piece where each bead is rosary-linked to a charm -- arguably an earlier step in the evolution that led to the found-object button necklaces -- works fine and looks awesome if you're willing to take the time to make sure the rosary-linked chain is hanging straight ... but it turns out that all your care will then be undone, because by some accident of physics if the toggle is sitting where it's supposed to, it slips right open. The pewter elephant ones are usually secure, it's just a strangeness of physics.
Speaking of a strangeness of physics: It takes about three point five to four inches for seven-strand stainless steel jewelry wire to equalize its own tension sufficiently to lie flat. Shorter bracelets will almost always have a slight curve. Aren't you glad you know this now?
Friday, March 25, 2011
"Bless my eyes! Fresh hot ... "
Not leftover, but definitely lazy. As of mid-February I now bake all of the bread for our household.
I am a big fan of food that I can make ahead of time and have last a while; I'm happiest when I can have one big, traditional, flour-coated apron-wearing "baking day" and then have homemade food to serve and eat for several days.
When I was doing my last quarter of school with my double-schedule-and-a-job-and-a-commute nightmare, weekends were a respite, sort of. I spent them engaged in computer games (I still own, play and love my legacy neighborhood in The Sims 2, where a number of refugees from great works of literature, like Aldonza and Sancho, Count Fosco and Marian Halcombe, Bess and her eponymous Highwayman, have bred and interbred and I now have their grandchildren populating my pixellated dollhouses. Awesome and absorbing time sink). But weekends weren't actually relaxing as such. They were just -- two days when I didn't actually have to drive forty-five minutes to do six to nine unbroken hours of punishing mental work and then drive home in rush-hour traffic to scribble and pound out my homework until I fell into bed.
On a related note, I tend to get a bit steamy when people are vocal about thinking that college students are, as a breed, lazy.
Now, weekends are different. In my own home, with my workspace set up and control over the grocery list, weekends are glorious timeless stretches of beading and baking interspersed with five-dollar DVDs from Ingles, snuggling with Megan, drinking moderate amounts of sweet froofy martinis, and lovely-anxiously tending my garden.
Anyhow. This all started with the bread.
As an example, I spent last Saturday preparing the following:
1. Fresh artisan bread
2. Miniature mushroom quiches
3. Caramel nut sticky buns
4. Artichoke cheese dip
5. Corn and bean salad
6. Apple cider pasta salad
Each a family recipe -- except the bread. And oh god the bread. M and I have never agreed upon a type of bread, but I am pleased to report those days well over.
The recipe, from Mother Earth News and written in this delightful vintage-advert tone, is here. Read it. Use it. Love it. The pizza peel and baking stone are not necessary; parchment paper on a cookie sheet works just fine. The bread is moist and tangy with a delicious sourdough-like texture and flavor. One orange-sized ball yields a loaf large enough for both of us to get crusty, satisfying sandwiches and dip the heels in jam or artichoke dip or plain cream cheese for a flavorful snack. I've learned I need to do a spare loaf that we can eat warm. Without butter. That's how good this bread is.
We've figured out that all the bread costs us about $5 a month to make, and takes about half an hour's work once a week.
So. For no particular reason. Have a special offer. When you mention that one blog post about the bread between now and Monday, March 28, 2011, get 10% off any purchase of $20.00 or more.
Available here.
M has just awarded me a Housewife Merit Badge. She assures me that they are in fact equilateral triangles like Girl Scout patches. Success!
I am a big fan of food that I can make ahead of time and have last a while; I'm happiest when I can have one big, traditional, flour-coated apron-wearing "baking day" and then have homemade food to serve and eat for several days.
When I was doing my last quarter of school with my double-schedule-and-a-job-and-a-commute nightmare, weekends were a respite, sort of. I spent them engaged in computer games (I still own, play and love my legacy neighborhood in The Sims 2, where a number of refugees from great works of literature, like Aldonza and Sancho, Count Fosco and Marian Halcombe, Bess and her eponymous Highwayman, have bred and interbred and I now have their grandchildren populating my pixellated dollhouses. Awesome and absorbing time sink). But weekends weren't actually relaxing as such. They were just -- two days when I didn't actually have to drive forty-five minutes to do six to nine unbroken hours of punishing mental work and then drive home in rush-hour traffic to scribble and pound out my homework until I fell into bed.
On a related note, I tend to get a bit steamy when people are vocal about thinking that college students are, as a breed, lazy.
Now, weekends are different. In my own home, with my workspace set up and control over the grocery list, weekends are glorious timeless stretches of beading and baking interspersed with five-dollar DVDs from Ingles, snuggling with Megan, drinking moderate amounts of sweet froofy martinis, and lovely-anxiously tending my garden.
Anyhow. This all started with the bread.
As an example, I spent last Saturday preparing the following:
1. Fresh artisan bread
2. Miniature mushroom quiches
3. Caramel nut sticky buns
4. Artichoke cheese dip
5. Corn and bean salad
6. Apple cider pasta salad
Each a family recipe -- except the bread. And oh god the bread. M and I have never agreed upon a type of bread, but I am pleased to report those days well over.
The recipe, from Mother Earth News and written in this delightful vintage-advert tone, is here. Read it. Use it. Love it. The pizza peel and baking stone are not necessary; parchment paper on a cookie sheet works just fine. The bread is moist and tangy with a delicious sourdough-like texture and flavor. One orange-sized ball yields a loaf large enough for both of us to get crusty, satisfying sandwiches and dip the heels in jam or artichoke dip or plain cream cheese for a flavorful snack. I've learned I need to do a spare loaf that we can eat warm. Without butter. That's how good this bread is.
We've figured out that all the bread costs us about $5 a month to make, and takes about half an hour's work once a week.
So. For no particular reason. Have a special offer. When you mention that one blog post about the bread between now and Monday, March 28, 2011, get 10% off any purchase of $20.00 or more.
Available here.
M has just awarded me a Housewife Merit Badge. She assures me that they are in fact equilateral triangles like Girl Scout patches. Success!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Treasury Wednesday: Desdemona's Last Night
My three favorite plays of all time: Jean Anouilh's Becket, Arthur Miller's The Crucible, and William Shakespeare's Othello.
I was a dedicated drama student and remain a dedicated educational professional. For the first reason, I have been in the habit of reading plays voraciously; for the second, I still recommend these.
So my first treasury ever was based on motifs from Othello.
A Shakespearean tragedy is a storm of passions. Lust for women, lust for wine, lust for power, lust for vengeance, most sacred love and unholiest hate.
I was a dedicated drama student and remain a dedicated educational professional. For the first reason, I have been in the habit of reading plays voraciously; for the second, I still recommend these.
So my first treasury ever was based on motifs from Othello.
'Desdemona's Last Night' by tangopig
A Shakespearean tragedy is a storm of passions. Lust for women, lust for wine, lust for power, lust for vengeance, most sacred love and unholiest hate.
 Othello Print - Sha... $14.99 |  Under Your Pillow -... $55.50 |  Fire- Art Print $14.00 |  Mean, Snarky Anytim... $3.00 |
 Slow Dance No. 1 - ... $25.00 |  Leather Mask of a F... $ |  Necklace - Mystica ... $33.00 |  Color Nude, 11x14 $ |
 Renaissance Cap - R... $40.00 |  Near to Kiss - Vene... $9.22 |  Black Lion Mask...h... $ |  Strawberries - orna... $19.95 |
Treasury tool is sponsored by Lazzia.com A/B image testing.
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