Objects in camouflage

How often have you been looking for things that end up having been under your nose the whole time?
I am talking about disappearing utensils and clothes.
We once misplaced a lawn mower for several weeks in the summer time. It had hidden amongst the bikes, its chrome handle blending anonymously amongst the chrome handles of the bikes.
I saw a short movie (I think it was in the Twilight Zone series) about a crew of blue people who constantly recreate our environment while time stands still - sometimes they miss an object, forget to put it back in place - and when time starts "rolling" again, you look for your keys, hat, purse, or whatever was misplaced. Then time freezes again and the object is put back in its place and when it "rolls" again, well, you find it. That's when the "Twilight Zone" music starts playing... well in my head anyways... ; )

Lucky number 3

I just read another article on weddings on July 7 of this year (7-7-07). I have a numbers story of my own on crossword puzzles.

We bought a little crossword puzzles booklet a while back which one of us would pick up and play with. Somebody else would finish it. Then we started working in collaboration with one person saying the definition out loud and the other chiming in to help. But it wasn't until there were three of us participating that it got interesting.
It seems 3 is a magic number. We are funnier, faster and more efficient going through the crossword puzzle.

Here is the theory:
When three people are engaged in an activity, one is likely to be a more passive participant as the other two are debating. Being on the fringe, with no pressure, the third person comes up with a creative solution. Time and time again, we verified this theory. The quiet person (which varied) who seemed passive, actually contributed the tough words.

Think about that next time you want to exclude a third person in a decision-making process...

Dream

I want to tell you about a funny dream I had last night...
I was in a school cafeteria with current friends and this guy I don't know is coming on to me. I give him the brush off. He looks really upset and goes to eat by himself at another table, turning his back to me and my friends. My friend M. comes along, looks at the guy, looks at me, and says: "Why aren't we eating with him?" I look at him, puzzled. He says: "We chatted with him for a good while yesterday. He's lots of fun. You said he should eat with us today."
I explain to M. that I don't recognize people's faces. Another friend gets up to explain the situation to the guy I rejected. M. tells me I should go and apologize so I do and explain the whole thing to him. The guy is skeptical, smoking in my face the whole time I'm there.

Geez... I don't even get a break in my dreams! I can't claim that it doesn't bloody matter 'cause it's a dream!!! That's a new twist...

Ice Birds

Frost on the window as I let Minuit out the door.

I wonder if this could become an ephemeral art form? Artists get together and throw/drip/draw shapes on a glass surface in extreme cold and try and rival with each other... As the temperatures drop, the art evolves. There could be "cold" museums, where the art is stored at set temperatures. You need to take into account the heat generated by the patrons and keep the temperature steady so the art won't melt. Or hang the pictures in an ice castle... Or, I guess, show pictures of the art before it melts.
I like the ephemeral quality of art - it mirrors Nature. You need to always be on the lookout for it. Lovely.

The Art of Finding Lost Things

On the subject of legacy, my grandmother showed me how to find lost things:
Stop looking. Sit. Think back to when you last saw the object and play back the reel until the answer comes to you. Be patient! Resist the urge to get up and look for it as soon as you have an idea (I had trouble with that last one). If all else fails, pray to St. Anthony (I had to look it up on this site because I couldn't remember the name. I never liked asking for his help. It felt like cheating.)

The gift developed slowly. The first time I became aware of it was when I spoke to a friend who was visibly upset. She had been doing her homework on the kitchen table (due for the next week). She was interrupted at dinnertime and could not find her papers afterwards to finish the task. She looked everywhere but could not find it and was considering rewriting the homework, in frustration. I listened and applied the principles I had learned. I had her describe the whole scene in detail. We were at school so it was easy to resist the urge to go look for it. It happens that she had younger siblings and I mused that her papers could have mistakenly been set aside as scrap paper for them to draw on. Based on my deductions, she retrieved most of the homework, having lost only a few pages. I was very impressed with the efficiency of the method, but frustrated that she had lost some pages (I urged her to look on the back of drawings and so forth...).

A series of small successes followed, less spectacular but nonetheless useful. One that stands out is fairly recent. Yseult asked me if I knew where a piece of clothing was. I started by given her likely places to look for it. When that avenue was exhausted and I sensed she was beginning to doubt my abilities, I said tentatively that although this was rather unusual, I had dreamt that it might be (someplace). It turned out that was where it was. I must be St. Anthony's "instrument".

Yseult - and to a lesser extent, Paul - routinely ask me where they left things, which is great practice. We often joke that I know so well, because I hide them myself. The thing is, I have trained myself to notice when things seem out of place or what people do with objects. It turns out our right hand often doesn't pay attention to what our left hand is doing... It is quite fascinating to observe someone nonchalantly put down their glasses at an odd place while undressing or talking and then looking frantically for them later as they don't recall consciously putting them out of harm's way.

I jokingly tell Yseult to "invoke" me when she misplaces things. It sometimes work. The power of suggestion is a great ally.

I have been stymied recently by a request to find a gift that was misplaced. It was intended as a surprise for me and so I never got to see it. I can't get a clear picture of it in my mind and have resorted to unsystematic searches in unlikely places. With little success. I am not used to having objects resist my will and am a little frustrated by this sad state of affairs (not to mention saddened by the temporary loss of the present) and have developed theories for the resistance:
A) I never touched the object and cannot "call" it to me.
B) My emotional attachment is getting in the way of The Method.
C) It's a cover-up. The present never existed in the first place.

Which is your answer:
If you answered A: That, of course, is strictly BS since that is the case most of the time but once I expressed the thought, I sort of enjoyed the idea of possessing a magnetic supernatural power - Magnetic Woman: Finder of Lost Socks!
If you answered B - I think you might be onto something.
If you answered C - I just made that one up. It thought it would be funny.


Oh, and BTW, this long post is testimony that I am again having trouble sleeping...

Of grandmas and other smells...

This blog was inspired by Ms. Hedda's blog.

As a kid, I would linger at my grandmother's side as she got ready for the day. She would put a moisturizer on her face and I came to associate the smell of Noczema with her. She only smelled briefly of it as she applied it and the smell faded as the day wore on, but those intimate moments, where she joked around with me where the best.
Touch: Sometimes, my grandmother would ride in the back of the car with us as we went - I assume - to church. I remember, in winter, she would wear this gorgeous fur coat with very long hair. I would bury my face in it because I loved the caress of it on my skin. I would just smile and hum, content as a cat.

The smell of independance: My first apartment was gas-heated.
The smell of freedom: the smell as I rode for hours on my bike with the feel of the wind on my face.

March 8

March 8 for me is a very special day - it's my brother's birthday. We got to tease him with the appropriate "Happy Women's Day" uh, I mean "birthday".

When we were kids, my mom bought me and my brother presents to give my other brother (and like that for each kid). We would wake up with a wrapped gift to give our sibling. So we ended up being as excited on our birthday as on our siblings' because there was a surprise involved. Smart Mom!

So I dedicate this post to him and this picture too:
Bonne fête Paul!

Scrapbooking

I have been too busy lately to enjoy my new hobby: scrapbooking! Who would have thought I would enjoy it so much? I was never too keen on arts classes. I never really had inspiring ideas that made me enthusiastic about projects. Nor was I particularly praised for my efforts. I was pretty much average, though I did not dislike the activity. What was my surprise then to discover this new passion. I guess I love telling stories, and this is a graphic way to do so.
I always enjoyed comic books (or graphics novels, as they are called now) and toyed with the idea of creating my own. Recently, a friend who shares my love of scrapbooking lent me some graphic novels. One is very badly drawn and so I thought: Hey, I could do this! (I can only do it if I lower my standards significantly... ; -) )

I have big plans for the next little while: a whole thematic album, several cards, revamping an old album where pictures are currently badly preserved. I am planning two sessions this week: one with friend, the other by myself. Much joy to be had all around!