Papers!

ever since i can remember, which is pretty far back (i remember having the impulse to hug one of the legs of our grand piano when it was moved in, when i was only a year old) i have had a fascination with paper.
so much so that instead of majoring in music, i did consider majoring in chemical engineering, with an emphasis in paper sciences. i still might do it.
now, this is not an undiscriminating love of paper. i don't lust over coupon clippings, for example, or junk mail, or paper napkins and plates. i collect glossy magazine pages only for very specific purposes. but then there are the papers i simply cannot toss without sustaining a twinge of pain:
smooth typing paper---color, weight, and grain irrelevant
brown bags---again, weight and grain irrelevant
cardstock, corrugated cardboard, regular cardboard

then there are those that i lust for, with a rabidly perverse fervor that frightens and confounds all who must share my abode:
mulberry paper
rice paper (not the edible kind, silly, the kind made from bamboo)
oiled paper
marbled paper
cotton rag paper
papyrus, parchment, and vellum!!!!!!! (multiple exclamations points are used to convey enthusiasm)

i can recall several significant childhood memories centering on paper.
1) i had just learned to make origami boats from regular, 8.5 x 11 typing paper. i had just learned that columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492. i tried to make my boat sail in my bathtub, but alas, it turned into a nasty mess. on the other hand, water stayed away from wax! i spent months, literally MONTHS, secretly shaving my crayons (and anybody else's) and hoarding up the shavings in a box under my bed. i preferred gold to reflect the royal stature i was sure my boat deserved. the idea was to coat my boat with shavings, subject it to heat, let cool, and then sail my newly-improved, crayon-coated paper boat. alas, i feared my mother too much to use the microwave, and upon using a lighter my boat burst into flames. it was the first of many disappointments.

2) i believe i was 10, with the assignment to make a house for science class. being as environmentally-friendly as i was, i was determined to make a paper house. plan A was to meticulously fold bits of paper and glue them together to make bricks. then i would make a papier-mache slurry to use as mortar. unfortunately i began this process approximately 36 hours before the house was due. 12 hours later i had enough bricks for one 2-inch tall wall. i resolved to complete the project later, for my own personal satisfaction, and work on plan B to make the deadline.
plan B consisted of using only papier-mache to shape my walls. each wall would be formed, oven-dried, and then assembled to make my house. nevermind that this left the house without any windows, or even a door. success!!!.....in a way. the walls were complete, but my papier mache mixture had begun to mold and so the house smelled rank. they also were not structurally sound enough to stand straight, and of course, the walls didn't fit exactly. and yet i was elated by the feeling of CREATING, until my mother casually asked: "won't a paper house fall apart in the rain?"
now, i remembered the crayon fiasco and was determined not to set my crooked moldy paper box on fire. i had gotten so far already! i racked my brain for solutions. i could cheat and glue milk carton panels to the outside (they were waterproof!) but i wanted everyone to see the work i had done. i didn't want to CONCEAL the papier mache, for heaven's sake. so i seriously, studiously, and meticulously went on to wrap the entire house in saran wrap.
i think ms. cherry gave me an A out of sheer pity.

3) playing with paper was not enough. i had to make it. i had heard of how it was made---you could do it the hard way, and cook down tree branches and other plant matter, or cut up rags and use the fibers, but my mother wouldn't donate her pots nor her clothing to the cause. the easy way was to take paper and shred it up. i had done this at school with coffee cans, but i didn't want useless small rounds of recycled newsprint. i was dreaming big (i was also dreaming of tanning leather with my own urine, but that's another post)....i wanted to make huge, gaudy sheets of it. step one was easy, as i had several shoeboxes of contraband shredded paper underneath my bed. step two, soaking, as easy as well, as water was free and plentiful. but step three required procuring a large screen, and this proved difficult.
the only screen i could think of were window screens. unfortunately, we had NONE---except for the one in the patio door. now, how could i possibly trick my father into giving me one, or at least into replacing one so that we had an extra one i could pilfer for my own purposes?
"dad, the patio door looks dirty."
"really?"
"yeah, the screen part. it's all black. i think we should get a new one."
"they come in black."
"oh." (damn!)

now, a bit unrelated: my dearly beloved friend is singing an aria declaring war on bureaucracy and the system. it is an impassioned plea for justice and mercy that stems from frustration, despair, and tragedy. and one of the highlights is: "all you give me is papers!!!"
i couldn't help but smile a little.

for the record, i now have approximately 6 square feet of windowscreen, 4 shoeboxes of shredded paper, 1 large box of magazine paper, 1 enormous box of handmade paper with various projects, 12 cereal boxes, 1 container of bamboo pieces, cat hair, and onion skins, and countless stacks and rolls and scraps of various papers all happily tucked underneath my bed.
oh yes, and one jar of crayon shavings.

God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut

yes, i know, millions of people probably posted that title on their blogs days ago, when kurt vonnegut passed. no, i didn't "steal" the idea, i'm just that sadly cliched. i remember being twelve and thinking i was brilliant because of this idea:
the statue of liberty holding an absolut bottle in her hand, instead of the torch, with the words ABSOLUT LIBERTY.
and then a friend gave me ABSOLUT BOOK as a gift, and i discovered that that's the most common unsolicited suggestion the campaign receives.
talk about feeling normal. mediocre. inartistic, inarticulate, un-extraordinary, un-uncommon, un-un-un-unusual (yes i counted the negatives, to make sure they properly canceled out).
whatever. as it is, if you want to peg me for my lack of creativity, i beat you to it. i win.

one of the local (by local, i mean in a neighboring corporate) libraries held a book sale recently. actually, it is still going on as i type. so what i REALLY mean is that i went to a book sale at a nearby town's library recently. gosh, clarity can be elusive.
here were a few of the finds:
1) bless me, ultima
2) a cd of the siete canciones of de falla, plus other stuff. obviously i purchased the cd for those 7 songs.
3) east of eden
4) the sound and the fury
5) an anthology of english renaissance literature
6) the armada
7) don quixote
8) a few bernard shaw plays
9) the man who ate everything
10) i searched for more vonnegut, but alas. in a splendid display of true human nature, when the man died his books were taken off the sales racks and placed solidly back on full-price, best-selling collections. it makes me wonder; were i to die soon, would more people suddenly read this blog?

it snowed yesterday. i was going to talk about how white and pure the snow looked, pure as an untouched virgin. but as we salt the crap out of the roads and drive all over the snow in our daily routines, i thought the analogy inappropriate unless you fancy salted, smashed virgin. instead, what we do to the snow is reminiscent of a tender, juicy chicken-fried steak, with extra gravy. unfortunately it does not comfort as chicken-fried steak does. it only depresses---and while i will admit that gorging oneself on chicken-fried steak can lead to severe regret and self-loathing after a rendezvous with the bathroom scale, snow does not even offer that grade of depression. it says, bleakly: "i will delay you 15 minutes every morning for you to scrape me off your car. i will come when you least expect it, forcing you to tromp through me in your flip-flops. i will fall just thick enough to cause trouble, but not enough to have a snow day. and i will come to kill your daffodils and tulips, and trigger your radiator so that your cats, who were deceived by good weather into sitting on the radiator to look out the window, will scald their paws and whiskers and fur and whine whine WHINE, so that you will want to kill them."
so it goes.

I'm dreaming of a.....

white easter.
aye, it's snowing. not only is it snowing, the ground is still warm so it's melting, but it's 25 degrees here (without windchill) so it's refreezing. fun to drive, even more fun to brake.
of course, last week, in shameful optimism, i put away my snow boots. after all, the weather channel was at first predicting ONE day of snow, and ONE day of cold---just a short blip on the spring radar. alas.
what i'm particularly annoyed with is how a good portion of the easter vigil service is outside, and we have to light the flame (the return of christ) and make a little fire and all that. last year, in GOOD weather, it took multiple tries and a good 9-10 minutes...
i suppose i can always cram my parka underneath my choir robe.