Libraries and a Bevy of Comics

I didn't realize that my San Francisco library card I acquired and last used ten years ago had expired. I figured it worked under the same laws as a bank account, but considering that a library is a free service, I guess that makes sense.

Besides, now I have a nifty keychain card and a real card with artwork from some local student. Community participation is good.

Celebrating that, I immediately checked out a few comic books (and yarn books) yesterday and have already plowed through them. All of them excellent reads and worth recommending. In no particular order:

Dogs and Water by Anders Nilsen. I read an excerpt of this in some "best of" anthology, and was pretty frustrated when I couldn't find it in any libraries in Savannah (not that I really expected to find it there). This is a beautiful, dreamlike book about a man's wandering and the strange but familiar (realistic?) situations he encounters. It's like finding the end of a string and following its trail through an area you've heard of but never visited. If that makes sense.

Cinema Panopticum by Thomas Ott. Really detailed, creepy imagery of scratchboard style. Wordless, a stark, silent film on paper of a girl who finds herself at a carnival or fair, and watches a few coin-drop films with twisted endings. What really topped the book off was its ending, which makes you go right back and read it all over again to make sure you didn't miss anything.

Y: The Last Man by Brian K. Vaughan. This is an ongoing series, and it's probably one of the best ones I've read, recently and ever. In many ways it reminds me of Preacher, but not for its plot so much as its execution—plenty of danger and action to keep it fast-paced, but with a solid, original story supporting it. It's never boring: how can a story about the one man on earth surviving a world-wide epidemic of male extinction be boring?
There is some sexual commentary (of course), but there's a stronger emphasis on the effects this has on humanity both in the US and globally. Politics are involved. So is science. So is religion. It's the whole package deal. It leaves you wanting more.
Unfortunately I'm only on the 5th trade paperback. I think the 9th tb is already out.

Off Road by Sean Murphy. Basically, a few friends go off roading in a newly acquired jeep. And yes, that means goofy adventures and personalities, and hilarious situations. This is part-autobiography, with a punch of testosterone (and no chauvinism...at least, none in all seriousness). The meaning of friendship, the joy of really getting the most of your SUV, and a good dose of rednecks.
On a really nitpicking note, every one of the panels was carefully composed and executed for a particular effect. I think part of taking this to note is that I went to school with this guy, and it's interesting to have seen his work in class and now in book; the comic short at the end of this definitely struck a chord.

Damn, that's all. Time to get some more books.

The love of words and food

Five years after my ex-boyfriend gave me a slew of Vonnegut books, I finally get around to reading Slaughterhouse Five. I'm not going to go too blindingly into it, as I've found written book reviews increasingly boring and would rather not add to the mix, but it was as good a Vonnegut book as any other. Which is, to say, very entertaining in its candidness and seemingly random plot twists. The exploration of how insane the idea of war is comes across clearly without the preaching.

Moving on.

You know which word I absolutely love? Render. It's pleasing to the eye, rolls richly off the tongue with a slight growling clip. And it's so versatile!

You can render a work of art. You can render someone speechless—or even unconscious. You can render a service. Or a verdict. You can render the succulent fat off a roasting duck.

Speaking of rendering fat, I have decided that to improve the flavor of many a favored dish, one should cook it up in bacon grease. This excludes some items such as milk and cereal, but like the word render, bacon grease is super versatile. Use it to fry your cornbread, popovers, mix with spices and vinegar for dressing on wilted spinach salads, cook your vegetables, fry your eggs in it after you've made the bacon for breakfast.

Growing up in California, this was unheard of. The amounts of unspeakable fat waiting to enter your arteries was reason alone for never touching the stuff. Looking back, this wasn't exactly a hypocritical decision on my parents behalf—Country Crock was the spread of choice, rarely butter. It was substituted most of the time during cooking, too (though not baking).

Now that I've a little more exposure to the world at large—especially the world of cooking—I can make the conscious decision to stuff myself with buttery fats. Besides, fat will always be fat. I'll keep eating hot dogs and balogna down to a minimum, but there was a reason why people saved and cooked with things like bacon grease in the past: flavor, and to not waste a resource already available. They hadn't started squeezing the oils out of soybeans yet. You could be eating a scant head of cabbage for a meal, but doctor it up by softening it in smoky, salty fatback goodness.

Fat content aside, bacon grease is heavenly and is much better recycled into every day cooking than thrown away in a tin can or erroneously poured down the drain (which, by the way, should never be done because it'll clog the bejeezus out of your pipes just like it will your arteries when you eat it). I would say it's best in pan-made breads, vegetables, and vegetables. And almost all southern cooking.

I made a gravy of it last night for vegetables and rice, and it turned out delicious. If you feel the love of nutritional yeast, veggies, and bacon (optional), here's the recipe. (This was an eyeballed recipe, so make adjustments as you see fit):

• Fry three slices of bacon in a small pot or pan (Use more if you want a LOT of gravy). Remove the bacon and cut into small pieces. You can omit this step if you don't want bacon in your meal, but you'll need to have bacon fat already waiting for use.


• You can either pour the rendered fat into a container to cool while you fry, or let it cool after you remove the bacon. I would let it solidify again, to make sure of the temperature.


• Heat up the grease again on low heat. If you want a lot of gravy, make sure you have a lot of fat. You want it to melt and stay liquid, but not sizzle. Once it's melted again, pour in more milk than there is grease, but not so much that you have greasy milk. (You want enough milk so the grease floats on it, but it should not resemble a greasy milk soup.)


• Stir. Stirstirstir. Make sure the two liquids are pretty well combined.


• Start shaking in nutritional yeast when the mixture starts to simmer. Make sure it does not boil. Shake in as much yeast as you'd like the gravy to be thick. I made mine on the thinner side, since I cooked my vegetables in it.


• Stirstirstir. Add seasoning to taste. I gave mine a squirt of Bragg's, a little soy sauce, Tapatio hot sauce, and a dash of Mrs. Dash, salt, and ground pepper.


• If you plan on cooking vegetables in it, throw 'em in now. Cook till it's exactly how you'd like it. I had peas, corn, green beans, and garlic.


• Pour on rice. Or whatever you're eating.

Aa-and speaking of Tapatio, there's a lot to be said about this hot sauce that puts it above other hot sauces, at least in terms of cooking. But that's rambling for another post.

All my Senses Adapt Well Except for Sound...

Wrists? Eyes? WHO NEEDS 'EM?!

So another round of logo designs completed today. I won't lie and say I've been trying really hard the past few weeks, but I sure busted ass today, and staring at the monitor so long hurts. I should probably get an ergonomic seat, too, but some secret part in my brain is worried that this means I have officially given in to sitting behind the computer too much.

Perspective is such a funny fluctuating thing. Not so much facts.

Case in point:

My favorite personal pursuits are going to kill my hands, wrists, and eyes. Don't get me wrong, I value them greatly. But between the art and the yarncraft, the writing and the horrible computer-timed designing, the piano...I am on a one-way road to arthritisville. But look at the perks! Making things! Productivity! Aesthetics!

Who needs healthy joints and eyes? On the other hand, my body hurts. I guess most hobbies rely heavily on our eyes and hands, anyway, so I'm no special case. Is there yoga for eyes?

...Too bad I hate sports so much. I should really get into cock fighting and tap dancing instead.

Adventures in Yarn

I've discovered I enjoy giving away my projects as much as I enjoy making them, especially when it comes to yarncraft. For the most part it's an ongoing list of things to complete, whether by request or by the desire to create something which sooner than later is given away.

And besides, though I love the technicalities and work of knitting and crocheting, for the most part I'm fussy about the size of stitchwork (I prefer fabric with finer thread, a la cotton t-shirts). This is definitely an opinion that's changing, though, because it's nice to be able to make what you need, and I especially enjoy making things with yarn because they're useful.

Luckily I've managed to document a few recent things I've been working on/worked on, so without further ado, I give you...

Ground beef.


Actually, that's my first attempt at dyeing some merino wool yarn with generic kool-aid. It ended up much more subtle in shades of pale purple and pink:


I'm thinking of making it into an amigurumi "giant" squid in the coming days.



Also, a crocheted cookie coin purse. I'm thinking about making a few more with sprinkles and selling them. Acrylic yarn.

I also wish I had better photos of these armwarmers I made on commission, since it's hard to make out the cabling in the photos. Or is it? These were a lot of fun, and really comfy. I almost kept them, and when I was pretty sure I had to give them up, Jon almost kept them:



I would recommend Paton's Shetland Chunky yarn for scarves and hats and gloves because they're soft and warm and thick and knit up fast. And come in various colors. Plus, if you're slightly allergic to wool like I am, the low wool content gives it some warmth without being scratchy.

All that aside, my most recently finished project is a cell phone cozy my mom requested. Including a chain to wear it around her neck, and a loop to keep it shut:



Oink oink.

Art Students and General Idiocy

Yes, I was once an art student. I even, in what I sometimes consider general slogging-through-it, and at other times consider an extraordinary feat for myself, managed to graduate with a degree in art.

And I will not lie on this point. Art students suck. On the whole. I'm pretty sure I wasn't exempt from that category, either.

Actually, most people in college suck. Most people in college just graduated from high school, and through no fault of their own, but the fault of the system and generally "growing up", still maintain a high school attitude. This is because they find college a liberating experience, and consider themselves adult when they enter in.

Truth be told, college is just another, larger institution of learning (obviously). It's merely a bigger high school, with generally no curfews, and no parental supervision. You're given choices, and the consequences of your actions. This leads to frat houses and sororities, but really, who's to blame? Gotta shake out all those tail feathers before you bend over and start pulling weight in the name of paying bills and feeding the government swine. Have to get the crazy out of your system at some point, might as well be before you start suiting up for work. You know. Taste freedom so you can give it up.

Oh, but wait, where was I really going with this? Ah yes. Art students.

What really frustrates me about them to the point of no return is that for the most part, these are the sons and daughters of rich assholes who are told that if they want to inherit the family fortune, they have to major in something. And, y'know. Art. Pshaw. How can that possibly be a difficult major? It's a fucking hobby.

I was surrounded by these assholes. Maybe I'm just bitter and old, and give no leeway to people in a stage of development that I'd also undergone. Or maybe I merely have lost tolerance on people who lack exposure, and need to chill out.

On a lighter note, which prompted this train of thought...

My friend Nate came into town the other day, so Jon and I took him walking about downtown late that night and came across a brightly-lit building with large glass windows. We could see a bunch of kids hanging out in the colorful foyer and smoking outside the door in a group. It was bizarre, considering it was outside the ring of bars in the financial district and the Tenderloin.

Nate looked quizzically at us. "What is this place, a hostel?"

We had no idea. "That's what it looks like to me."

Curiosity prompted Nate to approach the group of smokers. "Hey, is this place a hostel?"

The whole hipster ring fell silent with the interruption. They looked at us, unsure what to make of our appearance. They they looked at each other uneasily, trying to designate by eye contact a speaker. Finally, a girl cleared her throat. "No, uh, actually this is a dorm."

Ah, it all made sense then. "Oh...for the Academy of Art college, right?" Of course.

She nodded a fraction, paused, then added awkwardly with the whole group still watching us as One, "Do you guys need to find a hostel?"

Jon laughed at this point, which gave way to embarrassment on her behalf. "No, but any of you guys have a cigarette?"