Observations on This Modern World

A disadvantage of living in a world with e-mail is that when I am expecting something to arrive in the regular mail, I have an impulse to go check our mailbox every ten minutes, even if the mail has already come for the day.

And a disadvantage of living in a world with cell phones is that whenever I misplace something - anything - I have the urge to call it so I can figure out where it is. Sadly, my wallet, keys and sunglasses did not come with telephone numbers. They should. (Fortunately for me, when I lose those things, I usually lose them in the same places every time, and my husband knows where those places are.)

Things overheard on the road trip

"Guess what? Your car goes 95!"

"They didn't say the speed limit was 40. They said the highway was 40."

"Wouldn't it be great to have enough money to buy stolen art?"

***

If I'm absent a great deal this week, from my own blog or yours, please forgive me. The FantaSci convention, at which I've rented a table to sell my paintings (live and in person for the very first time!), is this weekend, and I'm starting to hyperventilate. So many things I never even knew I had to do, so many things I forgot I had to do, so many things I just plain have to do. So little time.

And yet, I think it's going to be great fun. If you're in the area, please stop by.

If I could say this without words...

In fourth or fifth grade, our elementary school, which at the time was pretty isolated in the deserts north of Reno, held a talent show. I was always a super shy kid, one of those nerdy kids, with purple glasses and a bad perm, who was perpetually teased, and had no idea how to get around that. But for some reason, I signed up for the talent show. I played the piano, but I didn't think of that as a talent. It was just something I did. I wanted to do something extraordinary for the talent show. So I decided to create a mime act.

I didn't know anything about miming - I'd never done it before - and I don't remember the plot exactly, except that I was camping and at one point I got marshmallows stuck all over my fingers.

I do remember the laughter, and the applause, and the kids who came running up to me for months on the playground to say, "You're the girl who was the mime!"

I'd love to say that I suddenly became one of the most popular kids in school, that I miraculously gained social skills, that life was great after that. I didn't and life stayed pretty much the same. In fact, the attention made me a bit uncomfortable and even more awkward, and eventually, it faded. And I didn't even begin to gain the few social skills I have until the very end of high school.

But for a short time, inside, I felt wonderful. I felt confident. I felt like a success. And even though I probably didn't know his name at the time, and still don't know that much about him, I think I owe some of that to Marcel Marceau, who died yesterday at 84.

Bravo, Mr. Marceau, and thank you.

Shiver Me Timbers!

It's International Talk Like a Pirate Day! What better holiday is there?

Learn the lingo here. And even my German-speaking friends can learn to speak like a pirate here. And my Swedish-speaking friends can listen to Swedish pirate-speak here. And, yep, my Chinese-speaking friends (not sure I have any, yet, but if I do...) can find Chinese-pirate-speak clips on this page, too. See? Told you it was international.

I think I'll celebrate by drawing more treasure maps and raiding the rum. Later. After I draw the treasure maps.

(Coincidentally, I am listening on my iPod to Buccaneers and the Pirates of our Coast, by Frank Richard Stockton; I downloaded it from LibriVox, and it's so compelling that I find myself looking forward to going to the gym or getting in the car, just so I can listen to some more. It's like stepping into another world. Now that's good "reading," my friends.)

It's love, not obsession.

With ships, that is. And the ocean. All oceans. And any large body of water, really.

As promised on my other blog, here are photos from my recent day trip up to Onancock.

Remember back when I went to see the tall ships in Norfolk, and couldn't identify one ship? Imagine my delight at finding it right in front of me, again. Like running into an old friend. (Just an old friend whose name I can't remember... which, really, isn't all that uncommon in my case.) And this time, I got to step aboard.

The ship is the Godspeed, a replica of one of the three ships English colonists traveled in to establish Jamestown in 1607.

As I drove home, I crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, and crossed the same waters that those original colonists, caught in a terrible storm in the Atlantic, were blown into. Lucky for them.

(This view is looking west into the Chesapeake Bay from a pullout on the northern end of the bridge. So there is land in that direction. You can see a little bit on the right hand side as a sort of wiggle in the horizon. The size of the Chesapeake Bay awes me. Someday, I'd like to really explore it. You know, when I build my own ship.)

The beach on Fisherman Island National Wildlife Refuge.

Yes, a good day. Filled with love.