A square tree

I don’t think this site is going to become ALL TREES ALL THE TIME, but it is what I’ve been doing lately that’s relevant to post here.  (The other stuff is training material creation utterly separate from anything NCD does, or housework.)

So, have an oddly square tree!  I do like my sketchbook, because it gets me to sketch, but I keep over-filling the space, as you can see:

Yes, a tree.

Tree sketch 2012-March-24

I’m also excited to have finally made it over to a Real Art Store, which had even more pens and a non-scanning-blue pencil, so I don’t have to worry about erasing before I scan.  This means I can sketch stuff out first and maybe have not-square trees.

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I made a little Art

a pen drawing of a tree

Tree sketch 2012-March-12

I went down to New Orleans for five days recently.  Most disturbingly, I discovered that my taste buds now like coffee.  On the other hand, the incredible amount of art (from street artists to galleries of Real Art Like From History) I saw kinda inspired me to get back on the artistic horse.

So I got myself a little sketchbook with pages that detach, and a couple more pens (because you can never have too many pens, right?) and I’ve been sketching from time to time.

Unless I deliberately force myself to draw something else, I sketch trees.  Big, deciduous, leaf-less trees. Full of little spirals and teeny branches.  I love them lots and I’ve been doodling them since I was pretty young.

These trees are a bit different – the branches cross, and they’re not quite as filled in, and they’re a bit less spirally.  That is, they look like the one in this post. It got a bit squished on the lefthand side because of the edge of the paper, but other than that, I like it.

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Stealing from the best

Today’s joke is modified from one I watched a 5-year-old performing a couple days ago.  It’s modified mostly so that I don’t have to record video. :)

Why are tyrannosaurs rexes so unhappy?

They can’t follow along with “If you’re happy and you know it …”

Now, how many of you tried to act that one out? :)

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Keep calm … the handbasket version

If Samuel L. Jackson sold handbaskets …

Once upon a time, I had a set of designs for Hell’s House Of Handbaskets.  They were based on this adaptation of a quote of him in the movie Jackie Brown:

The Handbasket.  When you absolutely, positively, have to get to Hell in a hurry, accept no substitutes.

I had them up on CafePress for quite a long time.  They didn’t sell amazingly well, but they amused me. And then, one day CafePress mangled quite a few of my images (including all the “the customer is usually wrong” ones, damnit).  When I went to recreate them, I went ahead and vectorized the handbasket image … and then I got sidetracked.

Keep Calm and Make Snowclones

One of the pseudo-snowclones going around these days is based on the lovely WWII British propaganda poster that said “Keep Calm and Carry On”.  It’s seen a resurgence lately in the original form, which is the kind of thing that gives rise to snowclones.

There I was, working on the replacement Handbasket items, when I happened to think about this snowclone.  Immediately, I thought of this one:

Keep Calm and Hang On

Keep Calm and Hang On

Quickly on its heels came this one:

In a Basket and Going to Hell

In a Basket and Going to Hell

Followed by this one, meant to invoke a bit more clearly the base idea of “Where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?”:

Where Are We Going and Why Am I In This Basket

Where Are We Going and Why Am I In This Basket

These are all available right now on my new favorite purveyor of Print On Demand shirts, Printfection: http://www.printfection.com/9thcircledesign

For those who love CafePress, items with “Keep Calm and Hang On” are available there: http://www.cafepress.com/thehandbasket/8438565

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If This Were a Fairy Tale … (491)

If This Were A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wasn’t anybody.  She had dark brown hair and pale skin and eyes like the ocean.  She dressed funny and didn’t play well with other kids.  She didn’t know their games and was full of strange games and weird stories.  So they tried not to talk to her and laughed while they made jokes about her.  Adults wouldn’t laugh, just tell her how wrong she was and how she could never measure up to what she should be.

If this were a fairy tale, she would have lived with an evil step-mother and step-sisters, kept in an attic and made to care for them all.  Instead, she lived with her parents and her sisters in a small house in a small town, not so much in obscurity as in not worth noticing.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who was a queen.  They say little girls always want to be princesses, but not this girl.  Princesses had only two purposes, to be pretty and to wait for a prince.  She wouldn’t wait for anyone, and she didn’t belong to anyone.  Dressing up and being pretty was fun and all, but not when there were things to be doing.  Queens got to do things.  Countries didn’t just run themselves, you know.

She was too young, then, for people to look at her and think her beautiful.  So, they noticed the way her blue eyes looked right into them and the assurance in her voice.  People followed her like it was the natural thing to do.

If this were a fairy tale, she would have had to fight a dragon, or been cursed by a witch, or magically traded places with the other girl, who would be made pretty and graceful while she learned the value of hard work and to empathize with the downtrodden, or made an empire of the world.

One of those is close enough, though there wasn’t any magic involved, except that which lives in the hearts of each of us.  So they each fought to be themselves, to be safe and unseen, to lead and be loved, and to do the work before them, whichever one they were, as they saw themselves.

If this were a fairy tale, this is how it would end, because fairy tales can’t show what they both knew about hard work:

… and they each put their hand on the mirror, palm to palm, the queen in tiny house in the woods, and the nobody girl in the palace.  Their hands sank into magic glass, and they both stepped forward, their reflections joining into one.  The birds swooped in and out of the empty room in the tiny house.  The attendants and the council in the palace looked at each other. The nobody queen picked up her crown from the table, put it on her head, and said, “sit down, my friends, there’s work to be done.”

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A few thoughts about compassionate humor

The word ‘compassionate’ drifted through her mind in search of something to connect with.

The last couple months I’ve had this phrase floating around in the back of my head – “Better living through compassionate humor”.

Yes, it’s an obvious play on “better living through chemistry”, but when you consider that laughter and compassion release oxytocin and other endorphins for feeling good and increasing community … it might not be such a bad choice to play off of.

I’m still trying to figure out exactly what it means, in terms I can explain to other people.  I have a sense of what it would feel like to be in that moment, but I’m not sure how to get there or the concrete details of what it would look/sound/etc. like.

These are some of the thoughts I’ve had so far:

  • It’s about making our lives, and the lives of those around us, better.
  • It’s about inviting people to join us, without creating an us-vs-them situation.
  • It’s about making a positive, happy environment while staying grounded in the world as it is.
  • It’s about finding ways to not suffer jerks and fools silently (and not suffering abuse in return).
  • It’s about using humor to lighten the burdens we each carry – making spoons out of laughter.
  • It’s about being smart or nerdy or witty without being pompous.  Relatedly, it’s about making ‘silly’ ok for adults, too.

Your turn.  What would “compassionate humor” mean to you?

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