these images were originally accompanied by a post that took me two hours to write.
when re-reading the post in preparation for making it live, i decided that the pictures were enough.
yes! yes! yes!
these images were originally accompanied by a post that took me two hours to write.
when re-reading the post in preparation for making it live, i decided that the pictures were enough.
yes! yes! yes!
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Posted in amber
some point in the years since we bought the house in 2004, i thought it would be funny to paper the downstairs powder room with the best of my handwritten short story rejections.
by that time, though, i had gotten rid of a HUGE humber of such saved rejections. in the nineties, when i was submitting postally (the only way to do it!) and pretty much nonstop — pay day for me was a big day at the post office — i had tons of great, handwritten, and some very funny, rejections.
by the late nineties, these were trailing off, as my submitting was as well. i felt very un-in love with the markets, had used much of my energy to try to create a new and better market, and, seeing how ungreen things were on that side of the fence too, began questioning why i submitted anywhere, at all.
the idea for the short story letterpress project was born of the need for a satisfaction deeper than that of both the submission/rejection AND the submission/acceptance process. i still felt for awhile that WHEN i started submitting again, i’d fill up the walls with plenty of rejections… but by that time the tide had turned completely and snail mail submissions were a thing of the past. interesting indeed to live and write through such a sea change.
and i have, for years now, been submitting virtually nothing. i’m writing, but not submitting. but a great friend turned me onto duotrope — which i had known about when it was just a search tool for markets, but now it is much more. we had tried to build something like this in the night rally days — a way to empower writers more than magazines — but it was more text-based and subjective, and less data-oriented, and writers were, frankly, afraid to use it — nobody wanted journal publishers “mad” at them and didn’t want to burn bridges. fair enough. duotrope has done a really great job, and, frankly, their submissions manager has become my favorite way to zone out on the computer. without facebook and a hundred and fifty people’s snapshots of meals, etc… i was missing my online zone-out time.
now browsing short story markets and submitting here and there rather is as easy as skimming news stories about peaches geldof. no more poring over the writers’ market and addressing envelopes and explaining to postal workers “the empty envelope inside needs the same postage as the outside does…” all those things that were part and parcel of the short story process for me when i began writing short stories are just gone. browsing duotrope, i found a new journal or two that looked particularly cool. but really only one or two. for the huge majority, the markets look shitty-samey or suspiciously clubby, and the sample work is not very motivating.
this all brings me right back to “why submit at all?” but for now the answer is: because it’s almost harder not to. i still don’t feel online “publishing” is the future of anything (although sometimes it happens, even to me, and although i do use my kindle)… but i think things like the letterpress project keep me on the right side of the good fight. (and you’d be a fool to think there wasn’t one.)
so, the powder room is never going to be papered in rejections a la james joyce. when i asked ben what we would do with it instead, he reminded me of the roll of trompe l’oeil “knitted” wallpaper that i had purchased and used in the “not a stitch” exhibit. a HA!! i hope to have a very cool bathroom photo here soon!
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Posted in knitting, textiles, publishing, the short story letterpress project, Uncategorized
here’s jang kiha performing a well known folk-rock song,”담배가게 아가씨” (cigar-store girl) with korean pop legends chang sik song and do hyun yoon.
(i’ve had to repost a new link to this clip as the first one went down on youtube.)
as with most korean music tv broadcasts, the lyrics are right there — this seems like a good song to know! and once again, i get the impression that jang kiha runs a few fathoms deeper than most contemporary korean acts. if this clip does not bring you joy, it’s time for a body bag! and, here are the entire youtube search results for the song, if you want to hear a lot of different versions.
as a craft editor at InCultureParent magazine, i’ve been pretty busy taking unattractive self-portraits of my ugly fingers. i’m signed up for a lot, and this month i added a rash (three!) of new crafts. check them out!
2012
BABA MARTA and ST. DAVID’S DAY (march 1)
BELTANE (may 1)
BUDDHA’S BIRTHDAY/LOTUS LANTERN FESTIVAL (may 4-6)
something GEECHEE/GULLAH related in the summer
CHUSEOK (september)
ADVENT (november)
ST. NIKOLAS DAY/KRAMPUSNACHT (dec 5)
HANUKKAH (dec 8)
KWANZAA (dec 26)
2013
UP HELLY AA (last tues of jan)
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Posted in african-american, amber, holidays, korean, publishing
everybody’s doing it — or at least some people are. about a month ago, i deleted my personal facebook account (i do still have one, under an easily-found pseudonym, so i can run the krampus maker group and krampuslauf philly page there) and i’m pleased with the results thus far.
i’ve suspected for some time that facebook is brutally damaging to the creative process. and lo, leaving facebook has contributed to a reawakening of my senses and the ability to really “compost” thoughts better than i have in a long time. it’s almost like living in a four dimensional world. and there have been some nice trickle-down effects as well; i’m less attuned than i used to be to any superfluous online communication. for the first time in my life, there are things in my gmail inbox that i just… don’t… read. i’ve never done that before. i’ve always taken correspondence very seriously. but when the rest of the world doesn’t — when it’s all quantity (or frequency) over quality, what’s the point?
it was interesting, the number of people who e mailed me to see if something had “happened” to make me leave facebook. this is the expectation, i think; we are held in the thrall of this beast, and if we do not treat the beast well, it might just do something “bad” to us. the idea that someone would just decide, one day, to go — and not have a juicy story to tell about why they did it — seemed to sit uncomfortably with some people.
i also had a number of folks e mail me to say they “wished” they could get off of FB. i had the same issue, back and forth, with worrying about how to manage the krampus group. i didn’t know how to get off. i didn’t think i could. eventually, the dummy account seemed the best option. i have, i think, eight “friends” at that account, and i do write on walls and read status updates. but the degree to which i have reduced my presence makes me a virtual facebook nonentity. the reasons i have chosen the eight “friends” that i do keep there is a matter of my own personal algorithm.
i know the studies are coming, in the future, that will show us what online social networking has done to our brain chemistry. and what we have modeled for our children; not only in letting them watch us “communicate” this way, but in what we have fed of THEIR lives into the machine. so people can see that they are cute. so people can see that they are well. so people can believe that those who post, thrive. these pictures mean about as much to me as styled photos of juicy mcdonald’s hamburgers. it may just be the writer in me, but for every update i see, for every photo, i picture numerous stories behind it, and they aren’t always the ones people are hoping that their audience thinks of.
if not putting up advertisements for my family on facebook leads people to “wonder” what “happened”, let them wonder. at this rate, it may be the most creative experience they ever get.
i have a magazine-writing colleague who said last night, on a professional e mail on which we were both copied, that she “missed” me on FB. i told her to e mail me. she replied, “but then i’d have to have something to say.” that kind of candor, and the balls to come out and say it, makes me think she has a fighting chance. (and she obviously doesn’t need me to tell her that, ’cause if she did, she’d have e mailed me!)
for a lot of people, giving up the opiate of the masses isn’t going to make them any more creative, productive, valuable or interesting. but for those for whom it might, i am rooting for you. but you’ll just have to imagine what you might be missing.
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Posted in amber
poor claudia recently had a week of toy tragedy. we came home one night to find the child-version, easter-themed, non-caucasian barbie she’d gotten in her easter basket (you think that was easy to find?) half-eaten by danpung. claudia’s sobbing was terrible, but even worse was how she looked at the chewed pile of legs and said, with a truly pathetic attempt at positivity, “her SHOES are still okay…”
this barbie-eating thing has happened before (the precious “halloween barbie” — claude’s first caucasian barbie) and when that happened claudia asked me to just throw her away, and i did. but this time, there was so much of the little girl doll LEFT — well, less than half, but all the… thinking parts?.. claudia and i both have a paralyzing degree of anthromorphization going on in our heads (i had to draw multiple happy faces on beat-up envelope recently, after it had surfaced from a pile and claudia became sad because “nobody has used it yet”), but that’s not the reason i wanted to save this little-girl barbie. the idea that a human without legs — or useable legs — should be thrown out, is not a good one for our family.
why?
memie!
claudia and béla’s only aunt — my sister — uses a wheelchair. so it seemed important to point this out to the agonizing (maybe a little ostentatiously agonizing) claudia. i said, “gee, i know YOU’RE sad about this barbie being eaten, but imagine how SHE feels! now she has no legs, AND she has to worry that someone is going to throw the rest of her in the garbage!”
claude didn’t want to let THAT happen. we talked about what a little girl with no legs might need. a flurry of tiana band-aids later, Easter Torso Barbie was safely “hospitalized” on a kitchen shelf, awaiting… yes… her wheelchair.
there are more and more toys i want for my kids that require me buying from third-party “collectibles” dealers on amazon. the african-american styling bust (lovingly known as “christie head”) was one of those, and out of all the aa styling busts i found available, i found myself paying more for the darker-”skinned” one. literally — the very light skinned “not white but not black” ones were cheapest, medium-hued skin was medium-range price, and undeniably black was most expensive. (and in pristine vintage packaging.) well, we tore that packaging apart and had tons of fun. even béla loves christie head. (and i will be paying out the nose soon to buy béla a “vintage” spirograph set, because the ones they are manufacturing these days are total shit.)
at some point in the nineties, the barbie people made “share a smile becky”, who sits in a wheelchair. all i needed was the chair, but we got becky too, and we upgraded her to “doctor”. or maybe she’s a home aide. i don’t know for sure. but i don’t think i have to consult with my sister — who is not very into disability “culture” — to know that naming this doll “share a smile becky” is a little disgusting. it suggests, and encourages, that the BEST thing that disabled people can do — what THEY have to SHARE with the world — is their pleasant gentle SMILE. my sister and i aren’t that different in temperment. knowing this, do you want to suggest to memie that she should do us all a favor and share her smile with the world?

she might share a smile, or she might key your car for parking in the handicapped parking spot at the mall. you just don't know.
anyway, we have the wheelchair, and “doctor” becky, in her unfashionable sporty clothing (because that’s what disabled people wear) and hideous shoes (which seem kind of realistic — ankle support can be nice if you do your own transfers in and out of a chair). both kids are thrilled — béla loves to push the wheelchair, and claudia is mostly interested in “doctor” becky’s hair.
in the same week that Easter Torso Barbie revealed her true smile-sharing purpose to us, claudia bounced her harlem globetrotters basketball into traffic and watched it pop under the car of a VERY frightened, and then pretty angry, driver.
once again, more wailing, wailing claudia. but we almost immediately ran into friend and artist kate mundie, who had many suggestions for what we should do with the popped ball. here’s our harlem globetrotter hanging flower basket!
there’s a bright side to so many things!
Posted in family