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Still mostly stuck at home with my foot up and not really able to sit at my stand and work for any length of time. Sigh. The first week I mostly did web stuff (if you haven’t checked out my re-vamped site, do!) and I’ve been catching up on paper work, but not making is driving me craxy!! I did the sampler for the class, and realized that while I can’t do anything large scale on the sofa, I can do small hoop work, so I’ve begun a little project comparing penises when they’re flaccid vs hard. I’ll share as I go. The first picture is for Facebook flaggers (hateful!).
I love the search terms that bring people to this blog.
If you’re in LA and free this evening, come downtown for art walk and visit me at The Hive. You can point and laugh at me trying to make my way around on crutches. Good fun for all.
I’ve been blocked by Facebook for 24 hours; I can read and see things, but I can’t post or interact until noon today. At some point yesterday, around noon, someone found my art work offensive and flagged it as “inappropriate.” Facebook summarily blocked me and warned that if I post inappropriate content again I could have my profile removed. There is no discussion, no forum, no debate, no review process, just a summary removal and blocking.
There are several things that bother me about this:
- Anyone could flag anything for any reason, spite, glee, morality, anarchic tendencies, personal vendetta… and Facebook accepts it with no review.
- I see violent images, hate speech, seriously upsetting hurt animal images, bigotry and small mindedness on Facebook all the time, but that’s acceptable.
- And (and this is what really upsets me) we, as a culture, are more okay with images of violence than sexuality; that’s very sad.
I have no idea why this person blocked me, but here’s some thoughts for them. If you don’t like my art, don’t look at it. If you’re worried about your children, talk to them openly about subjects that frighten you and monitor their computer use so you can control what they see.
And so, I have removed my erotic works from Facebook. From now on I’ll post stuff here and post a link on FB. Their loss of great content.
It’s amazing that people are so worried what goes on in others’ bedrooms, they even care when it’s stitched. Sigh.
But as my father said when we discussed it yesterday, “if they’re censoring you, you must be doing something right.”
Rain rain, go away, come again some other day.
Who even thinks about having rain dates for events in LA?
Well, I guess we do, have to. It’s mizzly and overcast, and may or may not really rain, but it’s supposed to at some point, and even if it doesn’t it’s just damp and everything’ll get moist – and not in a good way.
So the yard sale is in three weeks… Hear that? Three weeks!! I’ll remind you.
Gosh, now I have an unplanned weekend. Stitch, stitch, stitch…
image via things-we-heart.
Spent hours today at my storage space, sorting and cleaning out boxes. I’m slowly getting rid of stuff – my mother sent my entire childhood to me a couple of years ago – and, to that end, am participating in a yard sale this weekend. I took advantage of the sale to go through everything. Lots of nonsense to sell (come by this fri, sat, sunday 4342 Finley Ave, 90027, 9am-5pm), but I also found stuff that I love, a jacket I was looking for, a neat jar, and – the best part of being a trying-not-to-hoard-hoarder – fabulous ephemera! Here’s the cream of the crop:
I must have posted these pieces when I made them in 2009, but they were the very first things I sold and the first show I was in. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was, not only did I get to make art for a professional show, but it was a tribute to my beloved Beasties. And when I met Yauch at the Farmer’s Market I said, “I made the needlepoint of you guys!” He pretended to know what I was talking about. Sigh.
So here they are again, in tribute to Yauch, and also as a shout out of continued love and support for Mike D and Adam H, my tribute to the boys: “They’re Crafted,” and “Tom Carvel Approved.”
If you’ve never read any of her books, please try one in her honor. She wrote something for every age group, was witty, wise, and kind to her characters. Some of my favorites (though I’ve read them all at least twice) are: Fire and Hemlock, Magicians of Caprona, Archer’s Goon, Deep Secret…
I could go on, she was publishing for almost 35 years.
Rest in Peace Ms. Jones. You gave me joy, hope, and friends I revisited time and again. I love you.
I don’t know if you’ve heard me complain recently, but part of the reason I haven’t been posting much – aside from being lazy and lame – is that I’ve been dealing with apartment issues. There was a crack in my ceiling that became a big sagging crack, which became a hole of broken concrete. My landlord, while sweet, is cheap. Long story short, after weeks of meeting with contractors (the first people my landlord brought in had an F with the BBB, an F!), we agreed on someone and work began today. So, here is what the hole looked like:
And, after packing up my world, no small feat, here’s how it looked when I left this morning:
There have been, thank God, some great moments waiting tables through the years, but last night was especially good. I was busying around the burger joint, went over to a new table, “Hi, how are ya, blah blah blah.” The guy had a black sketch pad/journal on the table, with a painted cover. I said, “Hey, that’s cool, is it a Baseman?” He looked at me and said, “I am Baseman.” I was blown away, and apologized, but fawned shamelessly.
He gave me a postcard to a show in he’s doing in Barcelona, and like a dork i asked him to sign it, explaining that i never do that, and shit on actors, but he’s Gary Baseman.
Anyway I served the rest of their meal like a normal person. Blah blah blah. At the end of it, while chatting with his – date? girlfriend? wife?- he was sketching with his pen on his placemat/menu. When he was done he gave it to me and signed it. It’s a nekid girl floating across the menu.
How freaking cool is that?
I promised if he came back i’d fawn less.
So I don’t know how many of you remember a post from back in February, This One’s NC-17, but my neighbor is moving out. He’s officially out end of the month, but he’s moving back East this Saturday. I just came home and he came out into the hall as I was getting the mail, as is his wont. He told me he was gone as of the weekend and asked if I wanted some booze and sundry items that he doesn’t want to ship. I’m not a big drinker, but I took a cast iron skillet and some light bulbs. I thanked him and told him if he felt like it to knock and say hi/bye before he left, if I’m around.
That was not enough.
He followed me down the hall to my apartment, hemming and hawing, and then said, so I was thinking, before I move away forever and never see you again… can I show it to you? There was a moment of dis-ease. Sorry? I asked, I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. Um, he said, well, I just would be sad if I moved away and you never saw it. I know you said this one time you were outside a bar and this drunk guy showed you his and I want to show you mine. At this point I knew where this was going, but once agian was in shock and disbelief (for as savvy as I am, you’d think I’d get it together in these moments, but I’m so busy trying not to shame anyone). So what are we talking about, specifically? I asked. I want to show you my penis, he finally said. Oh. Well.
Now it was my turn to hem and haw. Again, I never want to make anyone feel bad about their sexual proclivities. Well, I asked, is it important to you? I am an idiot. He stressed once again that he really wanted to show me his penis and suggested that now would be a good time for him. I explained I had a call to make and now didn’t work for me. Then he had the gall to say that he’d just given me a fifty dollar skillet, which I promptly offered to return. He walked away dejected, leaving me with the skillet, but saying he’d knock to see if I’m around later in the week.
Looks like I’ll be laying low until Saturday.