Guess who’s back in Seattle again? That’s right, this lady.
Admittedly, I’ve been back for a few months now but somehow managed to totally forget to update my blog. Is this madness? Certainly, city madness… a kind of hyperactivity state wherein you are so enamored with being back in a familiar setting that you are incapable of updating your blog. Even picking a Song of the Week seems like too hefty of a task when compared to seeking out your old favorite place to get fried eggplant in the ID. Not in the DSM yet, but maybe in a few years they will properly recognize my affliction.
**Jenna does not have an affliction that needs to be documented by health officials. Apart from being a ridiculous human incapable of being taken seriously. **
So what have I been doing? Mostly eating yummy things, watching Harvey Birdman, and taking a lot of pictures, which I plan to turn into blogs.
Since I take so many pictures, and I only post the highlights on Instagram, I am left with a glut of photos begging to be posted somewhere. How about here?
Yeah, that feels right.
So, feel free to check from time to time as I post my adventures in no particular order, and on a time scale that could be described as ‘slightly sub geologic.’
Alright alright, I have been so busy lately with various projects that I have been greatly neglecting the ‘Song of the Week’ posts… but I heard this song this morning and remembered how happy it makes me.
Just a simple instrumental track that’s…ugh….oh god… why!!?… 10 years old now. Enjoy and relax. It’s almost Friday.
Maybe I should tag this post ‘throw back Thursday’ and pretend that my choice was intentional. Shh…don’t tell anyone.
The fickle Minneapolis winter is devouring my soul. On any day, it could be 15 degrees and snowing, or 60 and sunny. My hopes for relief from the frigid morning commute, raised by signs of warming and melt, are dashed with every lazy snow flurry. “I just want to be warm,” is steadily becoming my catchphrase.
Bleak though my current situation may be, there was a beacon of hope. The upcoming wedding of two friends in Phoenix, Arizona. Let me just repeat those glorious words for you; Phoenix, Arizona.. land of warm. Much like the mythical phoenix, I would leave my old, cold self in Minneapolis, and be reborn in the blazing sun of Phoenix. Too much? Little heavy handed there? Sorry… not sorry. This is what consecutive months of below freezing temps does to my brain. Deal with it, but please keep reading. It’s picture time.
…and an exceedingly creepy The Last Supper staged with disturbing dolls in the basement of Hanny’s pub, I feel the most was made of my brief adventure to prevent my heart from freezing into a solid ice block.
I would highly suggest all of these locales for someone looking to get away from Minneapolis, or anywhere really…but my experience is limited to escaping Minneapolis, which I hope to do soon… permanently.
It has been my tradition since I was 16 to make valentines for the important people in my life. I don’t buy them from Target, I don’t email a hilarious Oatmeal comic (though they are awesome!)… I sit my ass down and use my brain to produce a little piece of artwork designed purely for the joy of making someone I care about feel like they are known and understood. Appreciated. Loved.
This annual endeavor was inspired by an afternoon visit to a childhood friend’s house. Her father was an artist, a sculptor by trade, from France… the most romantic of career choices. As we wandered upstairs to her room, I noticed that the hallway was lined with cards that her father had given her mother, I believe they were Christmas cards… but this was a long long time ago so I scarcely remember any details. Only that they were so sweet, hand drawn, crafted to embolden their affection. A spark grew from those cards, to turn my reverence for the people in my life into tangible relics.
Why Valentine’s Day? I mean really, what a commercial… materialistic… disheartening charade of lovey dovey bullshit. Certainly ANY other day would due.. or maybe, every day should be a day to celebrate one’s devotion to saying ‘thank you for making me feel wonderful.’ I hear that one a lot, that I every single day is a chance to be grateful.. and that is a lovely idea. Honestly, I’m not grateful every day. Some days I am barely capable of brushing my own teeth properly, let alone flossing or adequately expressing my deep reverence for other human beings. Please don’t tell my dentist about the flossing thing, that is a lie I intend to perpetuate forever.
I make pretty things to show I care. People have convinced me that I need to start documenting them. So, I took a few pictures of the 20+ I mailed out this year. I didn’t bring many art supplies to Minneapolis, so they are rather simple in construction. Just black card stock, and Prismacolor doodles, with a side of calligraphy… and glitter. I maintain that a proper Valentine must have glitter. Somewhere. In some capacity, as to transfer your love like a despicable carpet virus; just when you think you’ve vacuumed it all up… a glimmer always remains… like the herpes of craft supplies. Enjoy!
If you’re wondering why I waited so long to post this blog, it’s because I had to wait for people to receive them before posting everything. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.
PS. If you don’t see your valentine in my crazy picture parade, it’s likely that I forgot to take a picture before it was sent out. This happens when you are trying to keep track of a lot of cards and get them all in the mail in time to arrive at or before Feb. 14th. Hooray!