#177 - in the days

While I was in elementary school, my father's father died. I don't have too many memories of Gordon, but the memories and things left behind are precious to me. We have some self-composed and illustrated sheet music, journals, and... a recent discovery of mine... a bicycle. My uncle Randy had held on to my grandpa's vintage 1940's Raleigh all this time and was generous enough to let me have it to fix up, restore, and ride. He left it in Pocatello for me to pick up and take home. It's in better condition than I imagined! All it really needed was a good polish, cleaning, and to be oiled up. It's gorgeous!

#175 - on a dare

There are many reasons why John Steinbeck and I are friends, besides the obvious fact that we were both born in the beautiful Salinas, California. He saw the world in such a way that, we the people, tend to overlook. He wrote dozens of novels, short stories, and powerful nonfictions, and in 1962 he won the revered Nobel Prize for Literature. He pulls his readers in and challenges them to see more, see beyond. A few of his great works are: Of Mice and Men - check. The Grapes of Wrath - check. East of Eden - in the process of. Cannery Row - next on the list. The Pearl - the future. Here is an excerpt from Cannery Row:

"Once when Doc was at the University of Chicago he had love trouble and he had worked too hard. He thought it would be nice to take a very long walk. He put on a little knapsack and he walked through Indiana and Kentucky and North Carolina and Georgia clear to Florida. He walked among farmers and mountain people, among the swamp people and fishermen. And everywhere people asked him why he was walking through the country. Because he loved true things he tried to explain. He said he was nervous and besides he wanted to see the country, smell the ground and look at grass and birds and trees, to savor the country, and there was no other way to do it save on foot. And people didn’t like him for telling the truth. They scowled, or shook and tapped their heads, they laughed as though they knew it was a lie and they appreciated a liar. And some, afraid for their daughters or their pigs, told him to move on, to get going, just not to stop near their place if he knew what was good for him. And so he stopped trying to tell the truth. He said he was doing it on a bet—that he stood to win a hundred dollars. Everyone liked him then and believed him. They asked him in to dinner and gave him a bed and they put lunches up for him and wished him good luck and thought he was a hell of a fine fellow. Doc still loved true things but he knew it was not a general love and it could be a very dangerous mistress."

I bring this up for a reason. I am 83 days late for a new finding: This man, Matt Green, is walking across the United States. I think this is magical for a few reasons. Just as he describes in his blog, there is so much of the world you can see, taste, feel, and experience while walking that you just can't appreciate while you are zooming by in a car, plane, or even a bicycle. There is something just so innately human and simple about walking. I love to take walks, especially at dusk, so I just can't image what an experience this will be for him. Everyone he has thus far come in contact with, has been incredibly hospitable and welcoming. It makes me look forward to my adventure next year with even more anticipation. Biking my way around Ireland.

#173 - garage

When I'm an adult, I'll have a garage. Right now I have an under-the-stairs. I know they might sound functionally the same... but really... they're not. One is spacious while one is tiny. One is cement where another is carpeted. One is a room, when another is just a quadrant of the floor. I have aspirations to have more than just a quadrant of floor.

In my garage will be: all four of my bicycles (plus some), a croquet set, and...

A vintage Beamer

A classic Triumph

And a Volkswagen van for the family

and maybe a car that won't need work/repairs/fixing up... haha

#172 - mr. schwinn

I can't say this enough! I *heart* bicycles. I'm excited to possibly start two new projects. One of which is buying an old 1960's style Schwinn Typhoon and fix it up: power-washed, new paint, original decals put on, new fenders. The other is seeing if my Uncle will let me fix up my Grandpa's old bicycle that he's held on to. I'm so excited!! 4 bicycles will fill up my small loft rather quickly, but it's radically worth it.

#106 - future and to-day to-do's

Since the thing that has been occupying almost all my time and mind space is coming swiftly to an end (exactly one month from today 'till graduation) I figured it was time to dust off all the projects I wish to tackle eventually today someday. These somedays are not in any oneday order. They just are.

First: Accompanying me to devotional, religion classes, firesides, and all things that in them are "church" is a notebook. As I have been participating in these feverish-note-taking events all my life, so needless to say, the notebooks have stacked up. I was thinking, originally, of typing everything up and archiving them that way, but after reflecting on the fact that 1- there are a lot of them and 2- every other thing contained within the "journal" spectrum is typed, I decided that it would be nice to have something personal with my handwriting, doodles and comments made by the people sitting next to me. So now, the mission is to number the pages and create a "topic table of contents" so that I can quickly flip to a subject and know what is in each notebook - - thus making my stack less useless.

Second: I want to take all my loose recipes and do essentially the same thing. Either type them up (less important to hold on to personalized vanilla and flour stains) or stick them in a binder with an index or course tabs.

Third: I need to make a budget. An honest to goodness budget. Maybe official looking on the computer... Historically, my budgeting consists of mentally estimating how much my expenses will be at the end of the month and trying to make that as close to my income as possible - - always taking me right up to the wire, if not strangling myself with the wire. At the end of each month, I whip out a "budgeting post-it note" and write down all my bills, add them up, and subtract from my meager checking account. As my mother has informed me, this simply will not do. I need to start saving money (really saving, not just saving for 3 weeks until I have to pay bills again).

Fourth: I want to start crafting my way to a house of my own. Crocheting pot-holders, sewing an apron etc. I want to start putting things together now that I can use in my house so I can buy less things. I also want to learn new skills, like knitting, widdling, and... I don't know, other crafty things.

Fifth: ROCK ON MY GUITAR AND HARMONICA and earn the luxury of owning one of those harmonica-neck-holder-so-I-can-play-the-guitar-at-the-same-time things, like the greats.

Today someday, these will just be gold stars on the chart. done.

#18 - that's what we have

Approximately one year and a half ago (April 2007) I made a discovery. Flatwin. I was waiting to meet up with a few of my friends at the Olympia Arts Walk, I came across a table in the middle of the street. (For a quick catch-up for those of you who aren't familiar with arts walk, it is a time when 100's of businesses and artists display their art and their talents through performances and displays. The Spring Arts Walk also includes the Procession of the Species which is when people in the community create costumes and vehicles to look like different animals and they parade down the street (usually accompanied by their pets). It is one of the defining attributes that makes Olympia, Olympia). It was just a regular small table and there was a regular looking man (okay, he gave a striking resemblance to David Duchovney) sitting surrounded by flat black combs displayed in a plastic case. What drew me in was his speech, "I'm basically doing nothing. I am selling combs for a dollar. You give me a dollar, and I give you a comb. That is all that is happening." Evidently one day on his front step appeared a large box filled with hundreds of flat black combs. He wondered what he was going to do with all of these and then it came to him. "This is something that I can do, in the world. I am in the world, and this is what I am doing. I'm selling combs for a dollar." I stood there just staring at him with my mouth partially open, amazed at his ability to attract this much attention. He really was doing basically nothing and selling practically nothing, but I couldn't move away from his presence. I texted my friends and told them where I was and they were equally entranced. I thought at first that this was some sort of social experiment and kept looking around for the hidden camera. Anyway, he has expanded his business to now selling, "It's a Comb" "It's a Twig" "It's Art" "It's a Flat Can" "It's Nothing" "It's a Piece of Burnt Toast" and "It's a Booklet". Currently (because I've been away from home) I only own the Comb and the Twig, but will make my collection complete and up-to-date in three days when I am at last home for Thanksgiving. What is it about the Flat Win Company that pulls at my being. I'm drawn to their products and can not see my home complete with out "Nothing". He inspires: how am I contributing to the world?

Check him out: www.buyolympia.com/q/Artist=The+Flat+Win+Company and tell him Vanessa sent you (maybe we'll be friends!)

#13 - "Beauty is God's Handwriting" - Emerson

I've been reading about handwriting analysis (graphology). I'm going to take a writing sample of myself and see what I can deduce about the inner workings of my being. I'll let you know what I come up with. Wish me luck!

Ooh, and I also discovered this program you can buy that turns your own handwriting into a font on the computer, so you can use your handwriting as your font. Pretty awesome! (...if you liked your handwriting...)