One of the things I've been doing with my time since I've been unemployed (going on one month now... eek!) has been cleaning, uncluttering, reorganizing and rearranging my apartment. And rearranging and rearranging... It's a shotgun apartment, meaning it's set up like a big hallway with walls to divide the space into rooms, and I've had the darndest time coming up with a pleasing layout. And I definitely wasn't able to find a good way to make the space work well for entertaining.
So when my friend Neathasha (pronounced just like “Natasha”) called me up one day and told me she'd had a dream about coming over and rearranging my furniture, I was like, “heck, yes woman!” Neathasha is great... we became friends because we draw nipples the same way and and then it turned out we had a bunch more in common too. She's also an artist, so I was excited to get her creative take on our stupid apartment.
Yesterday, she came over and took a look at all I had throughout my apartment, and turned stuff around in the first two rooms (basically, all the entertaining space) into a beautiful arrangement that makes it inviting in a way it's never been. I can't believe how nice it looks!
Room 1
Room 2
(I'd show you the "before" pictures, but we forgot to take any until we were already moving stuff, so they're more like "during" pictures... and therefore not very good reference).
So Jen Blatherson took issue with my Rapunzel story, saying that she still relied on a male character to help her out. I asked her if she could come up with a different version and she totally did!
At a young age, a small girl named Rapunzel was locked away in a tower.She had committed no crime besides being young, fair, and innocent.Her Guardian, an old, shrewish and secretive woman, put Rapunzel in the top most room of the tall tower which had no doors and only one tiny window through which Rapunzel watched the world pass her by.Her only reprieve was when her Guardian came to visit her.The old woman would stand at the base of the tower and call “Rapunzel, Rapenzel, let your hair down!” In answer Rapunzel would uncoil her most valuable asset, her long straight hair.She would unwind the yards-long twist that bound the top of her head until it reached the ground and the old woman would climb up and into the window.
The old woman, her Guardian, would visit her every few days, bringing food and any other amenities that Rapunzel might need.For the first few years Rapunzel was just happy for a chance to talk to her, to talk to another person, to hear about the world outside.However, as time went by she became more and more restless.She yearned for a chance to see the towns and people that she only glimpsed from her window.One day she got up the courage to ask her Guardian if she could go out, just for a while.The old woman was furious.She provided Rapunzel with everything she might need and kept her safe, and more importantly, innocent, up in her high tower. Once her temper had cooled she felt badly for how she had scolded her dear, sweet, naïve Rapunzel.So when she next came to visit she brought with her a lovely loom for Rapunzel to learn to weave on, so that the girl would keep occupied and not dream of the outside.
To read the rest, click here. I loved the way she ended it!
My first sketch of a cephalopod... and another lil guy.
I've been painting magical cephalopods for a while now, and sketching them even longer (after stealing the idea out of What It Is by Lynda Barry). They captivated me because 1) they're cute and silly and make me smile and 2) they were mysterious because I couldn't come up with a story about them.... and I can make up a story about anything. In fact, one part of my brain that thinks almost exclusively in color, symbol and emotion is always making up stories in the back of my head while I'm scurrying around doing stuff.
So not knowing about these adorkable glowy-eyed guys was incredibly intriguing. The more I painted them, the more I wanted to paint them. So I did some research on cephalapods (i.e. I went to wikipedia) and found the above kick-ass picture, which inspired the two most recent [cephalopod] paintings of mine.
The orange guy, who, in my opinion, looks like an alien or a pope or an alien pope, was the one who told me the story of the cephalopods. I was sitting around staring at him after I'd finished the painting, taking in all the good feeling of the colors and the movement and the shiny eyes and ::poof:: the cephalopod story was in my head. It went like this:
The magical cephalopods are an ancient alien race that's been on Earth for eons after leaving their homeworld for unknown reasons. They've been frozen in the Artic and Antartic ice until recently, when the warming of the oceans has released/awakened them. Now they're floating around going “what's up with all this crap in our ecosystem?” and they're atomizing the trash in the ocean, cleaning it up so they can have a habitable home again.
I told this to some friends of mine and one remarked that it was like Scientology, Captain Planet and H.P. Lovecraft mixed up. Which I found pretty amusing.
It's no secret that my littlest cat, Inky, is my favorite. He's just so darn cute all the time, it's impossible to resist. Of course, I had no way of knowing this when my friend @jacaphene called me up many moons ago, saying she was in Maryville with a friend who was moving at the U-Haul place. There was a stray kitten there that the woman working there was feeding cupcakes to and planning to throw back out in the cold once night fell.
Inky, the day he was found, with Jacaphene in her car
Jacaphene being the animal lover that she was wanted to help, but she didn't want to take the kitten to the local shelter since they kill unadopted animals. Instead, she called me up and begged me {seriously, I didn't want another cat and Matt DEFINITELY didn't} to adopt this cat. I was hard to persuade until the kitten decided to speak up for himself and start meowling pathetically. Of course, I melted and started convincing Matt we needed another cat since Frederick didn't like playing with Pinky anymore and Pinky was bored...
And a few hours later Jacaphene brought Inky home to us. He was so cute and cuddly and he had spent the entire ride sleeping on her shoulders. He is also the most talkative cat I've ever met! Chrips and growls and all sorts of long and short meows, this guy's got a very loud opinion on everything. Plus, he was playful to a ridiculous level, which made him lots of fun and entertaining.
He's still the most ridiculous and cute and entertaining of our cats. Everything he does, from drinking water out of the bathtub to being convinced that our dryer rack is his plaything is always so freaking cute I think my head's going to explode.
He trained us how to make him jump in arcs against a wall following the laser pointer. But we trained him to be a kitty stole. Ever since Jacaphene told us Inky rode down on her shoulders, we wanted to turn him into our shoulder cat. So we would always pick him up and lay him across our shoulders.
Sometimes he'd stay there for a while, sometimes he wouldn't. Eventually we figured out that he liked it better if we were moving, so we'd stay on the move and Inky would stay interested. When we stopped, he normally jumped down.
Since I've been home so much more these past three weeks, the cats, but especially Inky, have gotten more clingy with me. Pinky, who normally never gave me the time of day, suddenly wants to sleep on my lap all the time. Inky and Frederick, who also weren't overly cuddly cats, will now walk up to me to cuddle of their own volition. The cats would curl up with me before only when I was already asleep (with very rare exceptions).
Now they actually want to be around me when I'm awake for more than to feed and entertain them. It's nifty.
But the day I knew for sure that Inky was totally becoming my bitch is when he started staying on my shoulders when I wasn't walking around. And to prove that it really happened, I took a video of him sitting on my shoulders as I'm drawing:
I just did the above drawing one day and thought to myself, "What would have happened of Rapunzel hadn't waited around for a guy to save her?" This story is how I answered my question. Enjoy!
Rapunzel Revisited
When she became of age, Rapunzel's parents locked her in a room at the top of a distant tower surrounded by a moat to keep their princess safe. But Rapunzel had other plans. She was itching to escape and to see the wide world.
She crafted bright baubles out of her crown jewels and hair ribbons to attract the birds flying overhead. They came down like arrows, screaming for the shiny riches, but she hid them in her bodice. Except for one which she gave to a mighty eagle, charging him by her royal blood to deliver it, with her offer of marriage, to the King of Birds.
The eagle flew far and wide to reach the Bird King, who laughed heartily when he heard of the sassy human. His interest piqued, he visited the lonely tower where he found Rapunzel brushing her long, long hair. She rose, politely bowed, and strode around the mighty bird, winding long, soft tresses around his clawed feet until she had formed a soft nest into which the Bird King sank - as if unconsciously.
Your majesty honors me with his presence, she cooed smoothly, stroking the long, white feathers forming his right wing.
An offer so ridiculous should be seriously considered and then rejected, he replied, catching himself and rising with a swoop.
But is it so ridiculous? As she spoke, Rapunzel pulled her hair slowly through his feet back to her where it lay like a silent waterfall. I want to fly away and you, my dear lord, have wings. You have no royal consort and I am Princess of the realm below. I'd say that makes us fairly well suited.
The Bird King closed his piercing eyes; her hair felt like water golden water carressing his sensitive feet. When she had drawn her hair back altogether and was braiding it delicately, he opened his beak to reply but she held up a hand to stop him.
Do not answer me today, my lord. But let me accompany you to your nest and let us see if I can please you.
He agreed and she flew on his back across half the world to his gigantic tree standing 30 men high. There she stayed, cleaning his feathers, twining her copper hair around him as he slept, and journeying with him on many hunting trips where he taught her how to provide for herself in the wild. Back at the nest she would rub his feathers with oils to make them blindingly bright in the sun's rays, plucking the parasites that pestered him from soft down.
After many months, she and the king decided not to wed and he agreed not to return Rapunzel to imprisonment in the tower. Out of respect and gratitude, Rapunzel gifted him her greatest jewel and he to her, a hunting knife etched with feathers. She tucked it with the rest of her jewels into her bodice for safe keeping. They said their goodbyes and she climbed down the tree and out to find her path through the world.
The art and story are copyrighted by me, by the way.
I think a lot lately about the internets now versus when they first started getting popular when I was in high school. In a lot of ways, I liked it better back in the day, when everyone online was a geek and it was like being at a private party. I had such great connections with people when I started journaling online, so now that I've got a blog with over a hundred readers [which still doesn't seem real to me], the comparative level of feedback is disappointing. Because back when only 20 people were reading me, a lot more commented and it was easier to make friends [at least for me]. Anyway, it just feels like the internet belongs to normal ppl now instead of freaks like me, but I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.
Join me on a trip internet memory lane, in the form of my usernames:
claybourne - this was a totally random pick. At the time, I was doing a lot of random research about names and so when I was trying to start an account at MyDearDiary.com and none of the neat names I picked were available (I'm anti using numbers in usernames, p.s.), I was like, "well no one will pick THIS name, dammit!" And they hadn't, so it was mine. Interestingly, this username caused several people to confuse me for a gay male for quite a while. That cracked me up.
Seductress - this was a secret username for a secret account I used to write very dirty, but well plotted erotica online somewhere. And no I'm not telling you where. This just seemed like the obvious choice for a name and I was surprised it hadn't been taken already. My erotica writing period didn't last very long though, probably because I'm lazy and would rather just think of something and masturbate than write it down.
dreamypoetess - When IM became the new big thing to do when I was in college, I started an AIM account with this name. Cuz it was an apt description of me. Eventually, I stopped liking this name and it still kinda bugs me. Probably because I feel like it makes me seem like a spaced out weirdo, which is not too far from the truth...
bluepantsdemon - When I got sick of dreampoetess, I started using this instead. This is from the Simpsons episode where Homer takes over the church. At the end, when Rev. Lovejoy is praying, he says, "Forgive them, Lord, they were led astray by a demon in blue pants." And since I had a pair of bright blue cheerleading pants that I LOVED at the time, it seemed fitting since I was all about my bad girl identity back then.
reddvenus - When I was switching to Gmail right before I entered graduate school, it seemed time for a change. So I tried to think of what defines me and I came up with 1) the red hair and 2) how I'm a sucker for love. So smoosh those two ideas together, add an extra "d" cuz that's how the cool kids roll, and there you go.
readheadgirl - I came up with this when I got to grad school and it suddenly seemed like everyone was on LiveJournal. So I joined the club and came up with this, not wanting to use the reddvenus for whatever reason, though I used it on MySpace. This just seemed a good description of me: a girl with red hair who also likes to read. Wordplay is fun! Anyway, I liked this one so much I ended up using it on Twitter and DeviantArt. It's the username I'm most known by now.
MzDaddy - This is just for fetish sites, because I needed a domme name to go by online. By Baby calls me "Daddy" and it was a cinch to add the "Mz" to make it clear I has girl bits on top of my masculine, dominating attitude.
So what about you? Have your online identifiers changed with you?
This blog is written for an adult audience over the age of 18. "May's Machete" is my Occam's Razor (the simplest answer is correct) for the 21st century. I am an artist, writer, activist, feminist, geek, book-nerd, bisexual, poly, ex-Baptist, pagan, vegetarian, Kansas City-raised cutie pie with Asperger's syndrome. I have a degree in Creative Writing and another in Museum Studies. I'm a femme in the streets and a butch in the sheets. You can find my art online at readheadgirl.deviantart.com or you can contact me by email: reddvenus AT gmail DOT com.
