IDYLLOPUS PRESS IS A VALIANT LITTLE ROWBOAT

Will I be a bad person if I turn out to be the dude that cried “Wolf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” and pick back up my blog in order to post on things like sea monkeys?

If you don’t respond I will take it that no one is reading, that this blog is a done buried deal (which it should be, since I said it was), and will feel entirely comfortable about posting again because no one will be thinking badly of me for saying I was closing down and then being so weak-willed as to, y’know, revive the thing because of some unsaid words about sea monkeys.

I should save the sea monkeys for the book I’m currently working on (not the past couple of weeks because of painting). I’m sure I could give them a home there.

I kind of worry that if I write about sea monkeys here then I won’t give them a good home in my book. Is that reason enough not to blog?

Whether or not to blog apparently now rests on the back of some sea monkeys.

Now this is how you do (or don’t) start blogging again. You write a post and go to save it only to find your website has gone down and said post falls plunk into the void.

Said post wasn’t about the new bookshelves (yes from IKEA) that we got, which we’ve needed since October for more more books, DVDs, papers and the ever blooming fruits of H.o.p.’s imagination piling up here there and everywhere, which put me vaguely in a mind for Spring (when dead gods are awakened by pink bunnies hopping on their graves) because of the sorting through and cleaning demanded by bookshelves which are supposed to make cleaning easier and instead cause me to look around the apartment and think, “What is missing? There’s something missing.” And I don’t mean clutter, because there’s still plenty of that.

The post wasn’t about those shelves or about Spring, which those shelves almost nudged me into believing in, because of all the sneezing I was doing with the deep cleaning and dusting which actually began with a visit from the Phone Man last week who pronounced our phone line dead (like we didn’t see that coming three years ago but couldn’t get the phone company to believe us) which meant lots of moving around of our old new bookcases while he looked for a short before pronouncing the line dead dead dead (which we’d been telling the phone company for three years) which meant dusting behind what had been moved (more sneezing). The phone man put in a new line and I was gleeful thinking finally finally I’d be able to use the internet again, which for the past couple of months only H.o.p. was able to use much because our connection was slow enough that only one person could be accessing the internet at a time and H.o.p. watching online movies about Helen Keller and Einstein and the Huns and Egyptians took priority. Oh, and taking care of his Neopet. And then there’s all the beautiful old Italian animatoins of folk tales he’s been in love with for months, watching at Cosmeo. Watching over and over and over again. Plus the video on Helen Keller. And the one on Madame Curie. They both really caught his imagination. And ate up a lot of bandwidth which we didn’t have because our phone connection was from hell, as it was essentially dead, and because Earthlink sux but so probably would AT&T.

The post wasn’t about those things but it began with them because Spring Spring Spring put me in a mind for maybe something new, hopefully something that was, uhm, kind of hopeful in a way that’s not all about how death and decay is a good thing, promising I don’t know what but something beyond Spring cleaning and sneezing (sneeze sneeze sneeze go I and I’ve not even been dusting). Put me in a mind for something new that might feel something like a Reward, yeah, a Reward. Everyone needs an occasional big R Reward for something, whatever. So when the Discovery.com email touting the New Spring Arrivals in their store popped up in my inbox with its yellows and purples, that’s where my head was. Spring and a Springy Reward for whatever, I don’t know what, but even some kind of big E Educational toy for H.o.p. sounded good because a big E Educational toy would come with the same aura of Springy Promise, the dead gods pushing up from beneath the earth, awakened by those pink hoppy bunnies. No, not a personal Reward but a box with touted Educational promise can be a little ray of rising sun in a homeschooling family’s world after a prolonged field trip in Winter doldrums.

My luck is I’m also a skeptic and trust nothing from Discovery.com to bring me anything elevating or worth the expenditure. Except the big blow-up T Rex we bought from them when H.o.p. was three years old, which is why they hope that we’ll purchase something again, eventually. Which we have. Some DVDs. And Cosmeo is a Discovery thing.

What was Discovery.com hoping I might buy this time? There was the Praying Mantis set-up where you can watch them eat each other. There was the vacuum gun with which you can capture bugs and look at them up close under a built-in magnifier. There was the UV canopy chair (shouldn’t that be anti-UV) in which Nanny McPhee can sit outside (or inside if you prefer) while the ravaging hoard ravages.

I clicked to look at the Praying Mantis set-up, with no intention of spending money, not on bringing bugs into the apartment.

Then over on the side bar I saw…

Aquasaurs.

Raise your very own prehistoric creature – the amazing Aquasaur. Also known by its scientific name, Triops Launcaudrtus, this ancient creature grows up to 2″ in length and swims in its own special prehistoric environment. Once you set up the environment, the live eggs will hatch within 24 hours. Simply feed your Aquasaur according to directions, then watch it grow and swim.

Includes:

* Aquatic habitat with glowing underwater volcano
* Aquasaur eggs
* Aquasaur food
* Informative manual and instructions
* 2 month manufacturer’s warranty

“Sea monkeys?” I thought.

It said nothing about sea monkeys but it sure sounded like them with updated, repackaged promises of grandeur. When I was a kid, for virtually pennies sea monkeys promised love and adventure on the back pages of comic books. “Own a bowlfull of happiness! Instant pets! So eager to please, they can even be trained. Always clowning around, these frolicsome pets swim, stunt and play games with each other. Because they are so full of tricks, you’ll never tire of watching them!”

Even before I knew they were brine shrimp I knew they wouldn’t be what they were advertized so I never had the experience of sea monkeys as a child.

Were Aquasaurs repackaged Sea Monkeys or not?

I looked up Triops Launcaudrtus on Google.

Nothing. Despite that being the scientific name for Aquasaur. Apparently science isn’t that interested in these grand Ancient! creatures.

I went to my handy-dandy online Encyclopedia Britannica (which H.o.p. never uses but I keep trusting he will, some day, and until then I use it) and I did a search for Triops Launcaudrtus.

Nothing.

Finally, finally I found some pictures of them elsewhere and learned they are not Sea Monkeys. Not by a long shot. No, they are Tadpole Shrimp that look like miniature horseshoe crabs and are larger members of the family that includes brine shrimp. That’s all. Not the same thing. Not at all. Can’t accuse a Triops of being a lowly Sea Monkey.

They’re kind of cool looking, actually.

I wanted one because it kind of looked like I felt. Not that I’m cool looking, because I’m not. But if you go take a look at the above pic of Triops you’ll see what I mean.

I called H.o.p. in to look at it. He was impressed enough to say that he wanted a toy of it, not the real thing.

I want an Aquasaur.

No I don’t.

Not really.

Just for a day, not in any commitment kind of way. Not even a 90 day commitment, which is their life span.

(Several hours later.)

OK. I’m over it. I don’t want an Aquasaur.

No, I do. I went to look at its picture again. I want an Aquasaur.

No, I don’t.

I wonder if an Aquasaur would be fun for the full 90 days or just sort of fun the first few.

When I think about other things I’d like to have, a pic of the Aquasaur suffices.

Go here for bad Sea Monkey poetry. Amazing, the glimpses of other lives lived to which the internet exposes you.

P.S. I find elsewhere the scientific name of Aquasaur is Triops longicaudatus, and that does yield results other than “Buy me here!” in internet searches.

What fun. BoingBoing points to the below Atlanta access DANCE-O-RAMA bit o’ episode from the early 1980s in which RuPaul teaches all how to dance the Timothy Leary inspired “Freakout!” to The Glass Family’s “I’m Losing it”. I’ve not seen anything this funny in a while.

Marty did the production on his first EP back in the 80s. The label was Wayne Gunn’s Funtone. Marty had only met Ru Paul one or two times previously, but he knew Wayne Gunn and it was Wayne who asked him to come in and work on it.

Ru Paul was supernaturally nice (it was refreshing, not cloying) and quite an actor. He wasn’t into his glam drag yet, was punk drag, but was still super-composed and gorgeous. One met and simply liked him. An overwhelming presence, physically.

Man, this video is funny. Love the girl on the left (Ru Paul’s right).

I’m losin’ it, I must be! Things don’t hurt the way they did before!

Wouldn’t that be nice?

Stopping at about 1:04 isn’t a bad idea. After that the bit collapses with the entry of a couple of out of sync faces.

Listen for the recorder, not that you can miss it. Perfectly 1968.

I’m now wondering if we still have Angel, Angel, Down We Go (also known as “Cult of the Damned”) which we recorded off the television split onto two videotapes many years ago. It’s a movie that deserves to be blogged. Jennifer Jones stars. Yes, that Jennifer Jones, wandering through loopdeloop psychedelia. You spend the film wondering how she got there, a question which is never answered. “Isn’t that Jennifer Jones? Oh m’god, that’s Jennifer Jones. What’s she doing in this? What’s she doing in this? What’s she doing in this?”

Feb raced by in the way that March is now doing. I suppose I got something done other than bookshelves.

Worked on the book some.

Got up H.o.p.’s own blog which is good for a couple of reasons. One, it’s all his own words, what he wants to blog about, and at his own speed. I thought he did a great job with the blog header image. Number Two is that well he needed his own blog cut away from all my ramblings as I’m sure there are people who want his news and don’t want his news cluttered with my views.

One of the cool things he did in February was make an instrument out of a ball pump and recorded The Haunt of the House of Death down at the studio. The audio is up at his blog. (Ah me oh my, the sound of that umbilical cord snapping. Except that he’s not good at typing and so I do his typing for him. And I did his audio conversion to MP3. Pat me on the head.) The recording is in real time with H.o.p. doing all his own sound effects.

Very cool and imaginative use of a ball pump.

When I listen to the music I don’t hear spooky. I hear, as said, cool and imaginative. He’s got a great sense of negative and positive space audio-wise, of pacing.

H.o.p. is insistent that it’s spooky.

H.o.p. has been taking piano lessons and has a new synth piano taking up vital space in our apartment, but that’s fine with me. What’s not fine is it’s resting on an old metal stand from the studio which sticks out into the walkway and keeps threatening to break a toe of mine. H.o.p. keeps stubbing his toes as well, so we’ll be getting a new stand.

He’s not so good at practicing but he plays at the piano several times daily, experimenting with sounds. That’s good enough for me. He loves his lessons, adores his teacher, and even though he’s not good at practicing, just the fact he loves his lessons as much as he does is reason to stick with them.

Sue Wilkinson, by the way, is a great teacher. High energy and involving, just right for H.o.p. She certainly knows how to keep his interest focused.

Lady McBeth of Blue Street
Digital painting, 2007

Used a Deviantart stock photo from Lady Belar as resource for the model. A beautiful photo, by the way. It’s located here.

You may want to click on the image to view larger at my website as the texture is lost in the small image…and in the medium sized image as well. There’s a link there to an even larger image where texture can be seen.

It wasn’t my intention to improve on the photo that served as a reference for this–which is a great photo. I just saw it and thought I must paint this expression–and wanted to give the figure a sculptured quality against a very non-Photoshop non-realistic background.

I lived on a Blue Street when a very little girl but the title doesn’t refer to any place.

Well, this is interesting. Tonight for some reason H.o.p. kept wanting to see an old post I had done on the threat of funding being pulled from PBS and NPR. I’d done a little pic to go with it representing Oscar and Elmo as homeless characters. That post was over a year ago and I don’t know why he was thinking about it, but he was. Then after his examining the post and its pic several times I heard him up front talking with his dad about how PBS had to be saved once and for all and how he wanted to help support it and make people interested in signing a petition to keep it going. Now, he didn’t know about the MoveOn petition. He just knows about petitions and thought this would be a good idea.

I was working on something and didn’t pay much attention when I heard lots of activity with him setting up some scene and taking pics (I thought he was attempting another top animation) then he comes running in and says he’s done a comic and gives me the pics to upload. I uploaded them and then we sat together in my chair and worked both on the pics together in Photoshop, me following his instructions on what to do with the images, while at the same time I was taking the opportunity to give him more Photoshop tips on how to do things.

I thought this was just some Elmo comic he’d come up with, which I thought was kind of odd for him as he doesn’t use Sesame Street characters for telling stories. After we’d uploaded the comic pages to Flickr I helped him make the post of the comic for his blog, and to my surprise he wrote:

Well, I made this incredible comic. It’s called Elmo’s Big Trip! Guess what? It’s about Elmo leaving home and going on a big trip. I did this comic because President Bush keeps trying to get rid of shows like Sesame Street and I made this comic to support it. You won’t believe what happens in this comic! It’s really funny. Bush is the hot rod that’s red and trying to crash into Elmo and get rid of Sesame Street. But Elmo makes it home safe.

If you want to see the little comic he put together, it’s here.

Now, y’know what’s kind of not so hot about this? First, I think this is grand that my beloved, stubborn, recalcitrant, bull-headed, argumentative H.o.p.–who many days drives me crazy 23 hours out of 24 with my trying to raise him to be a thinking human being who will be able to use all that bull-headed determination and argumentativeness to his benefit, with whom I struggle to try to let him know there’s something in the world other than Legos, Legos, monsters, Legos, animation, Legos, PBS, computer games, Legos, Legos, dragons and dinosaurs–well, I think it’s great that he thought this up on his own and came up with this comic which he sees as supporting PBS. But what’s not so hot is he’s got relatives who wouldn’t, in the past, visit my blog to read about what he was up to or look at his art because they don’t like my views on things and don’t want to read what I write, which is one of the reasons I set H.o.p. up with his own blog (plus I’d intended on stopping mine). Now, that’s cool with me that they don’t want to read my blog–I have no problem at all with this. But at the time I really didn’t feel like setting up and maintaining two blogs. Plus I wasn’t entirely aware just how much my blog was considered to be a big thorn, and didn’t know that even the posts about H.o.p. weren’t being visited because they were in the vicinity of my blog, I frankly thought it was simple lack of interest in what he was doing. Then I did become aware that it was because I was posting his activities on my blog which was the reason they weren’t being read about, and I thought, setting up his own blog last month, this is great now that he is old enough to do it all in his own voice. Not only did he need his own blog, but those relatives would now feel free to follow what he was up to. “Wonderful!” I thought. “Now they can enjoy H.o.p. risk free in his own words!”

But if H.o.p. starts spouting off about politics and Bush on his blog?

I should have seen it coming.

Anyway, I was helping H.o.p. put up his post earlier and when I learned what the comic was about and his intention, I thought, uhm, uh-oh. How’s this going to sit? Is he going to lose those cherished readers who felt free to visit his blog because it was dissociated from mine? And, frankly, I felt kind of bad about it. Indeed, he’d had more that he wanted to say on the subject of Bush in the post but I suggested that he keep it on topic, on PBS, and even suggested rewording some of his thoughts because I was thinking, “Oh, dear, he doesn’t have any idea how this might effect his readership.” And I felt guilty suggesting that he keep it on topic in that post, because I! me! I! was surreptitiously restricting his voice, though what I was worrying about was some people he loves would turn cool now to his blog, and might freeze it out altogether if he was more vocal. And I hated the idea of that because he’s been so excited about it.

Whatever. I’m through my first hurdle and having been through it and thought about it next time I won’t interfere with what he has to say. I don’t think. I don’t know. I just hate the idea of any prospective chill falling on him.

No, I won’t interfere again.

I don’t think.

Just plain silliness from this past summer/autumn. H.o.p. was having me film him jump off the dresser. I ended up in the way.

I can’t believe I’m putting this up on Youtube.

With Dubai becoming the new Houston and citizens being so conveniently cut off from Medicaid and all the other assorted horrors in the world, I thought some more humor wouldn’t be a bad thing. In other words, yes I did indeed think the previous post and its home movie to be humorous. And this movie too is brought to you straight from our apartment via a little home movie session last autumn, but no not on the same day I filmed H.o.p. jumping on me.

Yes, that’s a clothes rack in the background holding all our clothes. Our bedroom does have a closet but as the building is about 90 years old the closet is about one foot wide and two feet deep. I don’t feel badly letting you see our clothes rack because at least, as in the previous movie, you can also see some of our cheerily painted road-rescued furnishings at the same time.

H.o.p. was cracking me up that day. I was well primed to laugh as we’d already filmed several other vampire shorts that had him performing bat gymnastics all over the room. If you’re not amused, please feel free to be critical of the clothes rack.

The Big News (for us) today is that Marty didn’t need the root canal he had done last month redone. In celebration, because our old microwave bit the dust, on the way back from his appointment he bought us a fairly cheap new microwave. What I wanted was an exciting microwave that is the modern fairy tale cornucopia, the sacred pot that always is filled with a heart-warming meal (fish occasionally would be nice) and the moment you’re done it buzzes and you go to open it and find inside fresh fruit tarts. Since that wasn’t available, we opted for a Sanyo that feels very clunky but had better reviews than some of the other cheap models that I’d read up on. But it is also a couple inches bigger than our old microwave which means we effectively no longer have any food prep counter space in our miniature, closet-sized apartment kitchen.

Actually, we opted for the Sanyo (I was on the cell with Marty negotiating the terrain) because the Best Buys sales person, when asked about microwaves, told him that she believes microwaves are the cause of all today’s diseases but if we wanted one then either a Sanyo or GE was the one to get out of what they had. Because she was so frank about how she felt about things, Marty then asked her what would be a good vacuum to buy. She said she would give him the name of a good Hoover place. But we turned out not to need it as when Marty got home he dug out and read the instructions for our vacuum and found it had more filters than we believed it to have and he cleaned those out (I’m allergic to dust) and now the vacuum is working again and I can vacuum up some of that dust to which I’m allergic.

If I get the kitchen vaguely clean (at least cleaner) some time in the next 24 hours–which I feel compelled to do as one of Marty’s brothers is arriving on Thursday to spend three depressing days here (never mind why but damn will we be needing some humor afterwards)–I will do YES a video of our kitchen and request the help of all my Hong Kong readers in advising me on how we can create some counter space! How’s that? But you can’t expect the kitchen to be too spic and span as this past January one of the radiant heater pipes busted in one of the kitchen walls, a pipe which they said couldn’t be fixed until warm weather arrived as they were going to have to turn off the heat to all the apartments and they weren’t sure how long it would take for them to destroy our wall and fix the pipe, so it has been humidly spewing out steam and thus peeling the paint off the wall and wrecking havoc in general. It has been nasty in there. I was telling Marty last night that they *will* make up for these past several months by painting our whole kitchen (and not just the destroyed wall) a pleasant color.

Bush’s stuttering weasel voice is running on the news (PBS) in the background talking about how optimistic he is about immigration reform. How he became Evil Incarnate instead of just another buffoon down at the bar, sucking Happy Hour margaritas down one after another, I don’t know.

Below is another painting I did last month using a stock photo from Lady Belar at Deviantart as reference for the model. Here’s the original photo of her which is very nice. Anyway, I’ve always wanted to get back to working on a Women of Myth series (having already done Salome and Eve) and this is in that direction, influenced by memories of foreign movies of the 60s through the early 80s I’d seen when cinema screens were still large and magical and sound quality hadn’t gone to hell. A door was not just a door. Every room was a world unto itself and every person was the dust of myth, the conflict ‘tween gods and mortals, revivified with the stuff of the film development process, ancient spirits condescending to lend their life to film in vanity-pleasing anticipation of again holding supersized center stage. At least that’s how I thought of it all at the time and have always appreciated Goddard’s works in respect of this, and in particular his Le Mépris which I must get a good copy of one of these days. In so many of his movies the blood looks like ketchup and the scenes look like sets because they are supposed to, and if you’re familiar with the Catholic vs. Protestant notion of the eucharist and transubstantiation (I was raised Catholic a few years there as a child) this is what happens in his films. He presents you the plain flour and salt of the set and as the film rolls, though you still see in front of you the everyday flour and salt, a change of substance occurs. I was thinking of this when I did the below painting. If you click on it you’ll be taken to my art website where you can see larger versions.

The First Veil
Digital painting 2007

Lance Mannion has posted a lovely little pic of a snowbird (taken during March 16th’s blizzard there) for Jennifer who was sick of snow. The snow has moved on for Jennifer, but the sentiment stands.

When I saw Mannion’s snowbird sitting at the feeder, I knew there was a reason I didn’t throw out this little pic of a Snowbird on a Southern migration that I had open this morning. It too is at a feeder, probably has been nipping some beverage from the cooler sitting alongside. In honor of them both I’ll keep the ugly pic and name it “Texas Snowbird at Feeder”.

Texas Snowbird at Feeder, November 2006

(Thanks to them both for giving me such a kind welcome back to blogging.)

This is what’s been playing on the virtual turntable this morning. I came in, noticed that Marty had sent the link to someone, went to play it, and H.o.p. heard and has wanted to hear multiple times since.

James Brown & Pavarotti.

The post header. That’s what we’ve been up to around here. The Fantasy Worlds of George Pal! I’d been promising H.o.p. for months a viewing of Pal’s “War of the Worlds” via Flickr. Finally we got it. The DVD played nonstop for two weeks, H.o.p. religiously studying in particular the test shot of the Martian climbing out of the UFO, shown in the documentary of the making of the movie, so I ordered Flights of Fantasy for him and Marty picked up “War of the Worlds” on sale.

So that’s where my brain’s at. Surrounded (as ever) by all the little nuts and bolts of a nine year old and his devotion to film and claymation.

After countless times viewing the original martian (an octopus) climbing from the spaceship, H.o.p. attempted to do his own version. I think it’s his best yet.

I do mean it when I said in the previous post that I’m surrounded by the nuts and bolts of it all as H.o.p. has watched Pal’s “Tulips Shall Grow” about 100,000 times in the past week and has been constructing potential film stars out of his erector set. In the meanwhile, I try to educate him with a bit of history, telling him about how the Screwball Army in “Tulips Shall Grow” was Pal’s 1943 artistic attack on the goose-stepping wehrmacht. I try to inform him some on what this was all about without going too deep into horrifying detail, but trying to impress on him that Pal’s animation is not simply a fun little film. H.o.p.’s aware of war ongoing and wishes it would stop, but in a sense it is probably about as remote to him as the 1940s are worlds and worlds away from a child in 2007. Though I may be wrong and it may not be as remote as that. I know when I was seven and eight I was quite aware of Vietnam and distressed over it.

He wanted to see films then of the actual soldiers, so I did a search on the Wehrmacht on Youtube.

There are a number of films like the below one. I don’t know German but many appear to be put up by White Supremists reverencing the Wehrmacht and Hitler.

Funny (or not) what different people get out of watching this footage. Some see sterling heroism. I see the terrible machinery of war represented much like Pal showed it and it rips my heart out. I don’t know the history of the footage but no doubt it is propaganda that was shot in such a way to stir feelings of pride and invincibility, all those tanks plowing over the landscape as if there is no stopping them, and Pal depicted the Screwballs in much the same way as this footage of the Wehrmacht, the mechanical Screwballs seemingly invincible in their shielded metallic luster…

Until eventually they rust.

Using Pal’s “Tulips Shall Bloom”, H.o.p. and I have talked off and on about this the past week. I’ve talked a little about ghettos and concentrations camps. He knows enough of other atrocities that he’s able to make connections.

I try to make an impression but not overwhelm. Our talks on this are short. Then H.o.p. runs off to build more claymation figures.

And I, sitting at Youtube, continue clicking, looking at all the films of the Wehrmacht that have been loaded up. I look at brief clips from “Triumph of the Will”, a film I’ve not seen in many years. I while away a day doing this. Play a film and then sit and think and stare for a long while. Play another film. I return last night to find the link to the above film and end up whiling away more time.

I watch Hitler instruct his legions of fair-haired German youth:

We want our people to be obedient and you must practice obedience. We want our people to love peace but also to be brave. And you must be peace-loving…

I go to bed and scenes from “Triumph of the Will” play over and over in my mind. It takes me hours to get to sleep.