My grandfather has Alzheimer’s. This is really not too unusual; many elderly people have Alzheimer’s. In light of that, it is rather peculiar that so many people seem to have no clue how this disease effects people, or how the symptoms are manifested. It’s a common misperception that people suffering from Alzheimer’s don’t realize how Click Here to continue reading.
Seeing as I saw this linked to off of a message board, in all likelihood 98% of the civilized world has already seen this, but, for the last poor deprived 2%:
Right around the time of Matisse and all the others who pretend they don’t know how to draw, you almost might as well stop watching. But before that, watching each face fade into another heightens their differences and especially their emotions. The movements of the features as the form from one expression to another makes every thought more powerful. It’s also very eerie, because as the faces are in mid-shift, you could almost swear you see glimpses of someone you recognize. I think this feeling is most powerful right before it solidifies into new face.
I wish that it cycled through slower, but I have a feeling it’s as effective as it is precisely because it doesn’t give you time to stop and think, and your imagination has to fill in so much of it.
So in my previous ramble, I talked about this book called Woven into the Earth. I kind of expressed my uncomfortableness with having my work taken under the microscope, as the work of the women of Greenland was literally done. And I also mentioned another book, a kind of mock-up (in more ways than one) Click Here to continue reading.
I was bemused—no, bemused is the wrong word. I always thought that “bemused” meant slightly puzzled or surprised amusment, but the dictionaries all seem to think it refers more to being “confused” or “engrossed in thought”. Though MW is willing to admit that it could refer to “wry amusement”, which is a little closer to Click Here to continue reading.
This has been a most unsatisfactory week. Among other life-changing crisis’ (crisises? crisi?) is when I discovered a nice, big, fat, thick book I had been reading and enjoying didn’t have a three week lending period, but a two week lending period. Drat! I was just getting to a good part, too. It was called Click Here to continue reading.
Ok, one verrry last post on Dressaday’s Airplane Rant, and then I’ll stop. Really and truly. Honest.
Unfortunately, something tells me this post of mine is going to be pretty much wind up as a rant itself. Probably because of certain phrases, like this one from the comments from someone by the name of “wampoline”:
I have Click Here to continue reading.
. . .is that, among other things, you get 98% of the way through writing a post, and suddenly discover that you are sick of sitting in front of the monitor, and being still all except for your fingers. Then you have to choices: keep writing, and invariably have a sloppy ending, or stop writing, Click Here to continue reading.
I interrupt my regularly scheduled program of blither and blather and other poorly edited thought to bring you an actual factual really truly completed sewing project!
Never mind that this is a project that I actually finished months ago, or that it only took me a week to do. (Which ought to be a moral to Click Here to continue reading.
As I continue to pick apart the Dressaday post and its comments, I come to another oft-revisited (is that a word?) subject. What do your clothes say about you?
In her post, Erin says:
This way, if I end up sitting next to someone interesting, I don’t have to shout over what my clothes are saying. Last Click Here to continue reading.
Sometimes I read the Dressaday blog. I say sometimes, because, although there are lots of pictures of unusual dresses, I have discovered I have different tastes than Erin, and so most (not all) of the dresses don’t catch my fancy. But I have to keep checking because (1) when she does post a picture of Click Here to continue reading.