Lair of the Lost Girl

All righty, then.

All of you folk who told me that one tattoo would never be enough, and that they're somewhere between Pringles and heroin in the 'once you start you can't stop' spectrum? You were absolutely right.

I love my pawprints, and I adore knowing that they're there, and seeing them and showing them off. But... it's been a couple of years, and I'm feeling the urge to body-mod again, and I just can't stop thinking about it. It's been on my mind for most of a year now, and I've been noodling around with images and concepts, and I've had the same idea for most of that time, so I'm feeling pretty safe about moving forward.

There's just one problem. I can't find a picture of exactly what I want. And I'm a horrible artist (stick figures are about the extent of my skill), and my google image searches aren't quite geting me what I need. So, I'm opening this up to more (and more talented) folks.

I want... hm. This is going to sound both incredibly vague and incredibly specific at the same time, but such is life. I want something green and leafy, and living, at the same time. The image in my head is that of a dragon, but admittedly, that's because most of the images I find for just "tree spirit" or "nature spirit" are naked women, and that's not quite what I want to have on my thigh for the rest of my life.

Unfortunately, most of the images I find when I look for tree dragons, or leaf dragons, are 1) black and white, 2) vaguely sinister, or 3) cartoonish, and I don't want any of those things. I want something green and colorful, graceful and beautiful, and... if not realistic, at least not cutesy or cartoony. Not Asian; that's not my paradigm. And not just a tree, or a dragon in a tree; I want something that I can.... oh, God, this sounds so pretentious when I type it out, but something that symbolizes both my bond to living things and to nature and green growing things, in one image.

Honestly, the aesthetic of what I want, image-wise, is a leafy sea dragon, just less aquatic and more land-plant-y. Somewhere between this and this.

So - anyone with better searching skills than mine want to hunt this down for me? Or, any amazing artists out there want to try their hand at coming up with such an image? I promise eternal gratitude, pictures of the finished project, and, if it's truly awesome, negotiable rewards of your choice....

So I have a conundrum.

Next weekend I'm going to a friend's wedding. It's a fairly small event, with what sounds like a not-quite-typical reception; dinner at a "nice restaurant" (no, I have no idea what they mean by that. I'm white trash; my idea of a nice restaurant is the Cheesecake Factory, but I'm guessing it's something a bit more upscale.).

I have no idea what to wear. It's an evening wedding, which implies formal, but it's a smallish, not-so-formal event. Pleas for advice have been answered with "I dunno, whatever you'd wear to a nice restaurant," which, for me, is jeans or a broomstick skirt and a tank top. Which I somehow figure is not what they mean.

Most of my dresses are either black (which is a no-go zone for weddings), sundresses (not quite the right season), or... a bit on the sultry/evening-ish side. And while I love the latter, I'm not sure whether I'd be too over-the-top showing up at what turned out to be an informal wedding in a royal blue ruched sequined sheath dress, or a leopard-print bombshell mini-dress.

So.... to those wiser and more levelheaded than me, what does one wear to this sort of event? Bite the bullet and take the risk of egregious offense wearing black? Look like a potential hussy in sequins? Embroidered jeans and a really pretty lace t-shirt?

Or... you know.... take it as an excuse to binge-shop at the Betsey Johnson going-out-of-business sale?

Today's Wardrobe:

Fatigue-green military cargo pants
Tight black t-shirt
Sparkly blue toenail polish
Beaded and sequined flip-flops
Pretty floral chiffon hair scarf

I think I shall call this look 'Deeply Internally Conflicted Badass Warrior Princess.'

Of course, I only wore the pants because it's too cold for shorts, and the scarf because it looks awesome with my newly-hennaed hair, so that makes it okay, right?

In other news, the new Weird Al album is turning out to be surprisingly good, and I find myself disproportionately, irrationally, and unreasonably in love with 'Party In The CIA.' I think I have a new Favorite Song of the Moment....

...because I realized today that I don't actually have any pictures of myself in garb, and because I utterly adore my new mask and wanted to show it off, and because I'm trying to get better about having my picture taken....

( Picture hidden here, in case you hadn't figured that out )

In the past, I've been fairly certain that henna had no actual effect on my hair - that, while it was fairly harmless, it never made much actual color change. That's actually why I wanted to try it again now; while being bright-red has been fun, I was kind of looking forward to the brave, bold, daring experiment of heading closer to the strawberry-blonde area of the spectrum.

Clearly, in the past, I just wasn't doing it right.

So late last night, after I finished all of my holiday chores, I decided to give this henna thing a try. I had a bar of the stuff that I picked up from Lush, and, following their instructions, I grated it up into a bowl, added boiling water, and mixed it until it turned.... well, in their words, 'the consistency of double cream.' But that's because they're writing ad copy. In actuality, it turned into hideous green trickly mud. I made a face, and I think I also made some rather whimpery noises at the thought of using this glop, but I had already invested enough time and money, and made enough dirty pots and measuring cups, that I felt I kind of had to go on.

So I trekked up to the bathroom in front of the mirror, and proceeded to slap hot, steaming schlurp that looked and smelled like something a hippie threw up onto my head by the handful (isn't style glamorous?). In about five minutes I looked like an extra from The 13th Warrior; if I ever need to costume as a Pict I am totally using this to make appropriately mud-spikey. But about ten minutes after that I was done, and tucked my hair into a shower cap to crash for the night. Luckily, I am blessed with a patient and understanding husband who did not complain about my less-than-seductive choice of sleepwear.

By the time I woke up this morning I was desperate to see how things had turned out. So I climbed in the shower, rinsed out the mud and grass and goo, and, as soon as my hair had started to dry, ran my fingers through it.... only to realize that, if anything, it is now a darker, brighter red than it has ever been before.

Seriously. It's nearly the same shade as my old dye, just less coppery and more fiery. I'm torn between being slightly bummed that it's not much of a change, and elated that it's still gloriously, glowingly red. And that I've found a drastically less toxic way to color my hair - for all the disgustingness of the henna itself, it's still a lot less scary and damaging than the chemicals I've been pouring onto my head for the past decade. I think, all things considered, that I'm a convert.

Oh, and for posterity's sake (and for anyone who's curious about the results)....

( My new (and not that different) hair.... )

It's time to play 'Where's Ladysprite Now!'

Next Sunday and Monday - April 25 and 26 - I'll be performing in the Boston Babydolls show, French Kiss, at Club Oberon. It looks like it's going to be a fun show, and I'm excited to finally be able to dance with my slithery partner again after his extended foray into I'd-rather-bite-you-than-dance-land. If you want to come see the show, check out the Babydolls web page for tickets.

Earlier this weekend, on Saturday the 24th, tpau and I will be hosting a bake sale, crafts fair, raffle and auction at Camelot Cohousing at 69 Village Court in Berlin. This is a fundraiser for our participation in the 3 Day Walk, and I'm really looking forward to it.

Details are available here, and I do hope that you all come if at all possible - even if it's just to drop by for a few minutes and buy a cupcake. Every little bit helps. Spread the word if you can, too; the more people that show up, the better.

If, for some reason, though, you can't make it, we are pre-selling raffle tickets - details are here, just leave a comment here or there to let me know.

Thanks, and looking forward to seeing y'all!

Okay. I know I have body image issues, and I spend far too much time talking - in person, if not here - about how much I hate my body. And as much as I try to move past that, and get to the point where I accept my appearance, it's very rare that I'm actually happy with the way I look. So when I am, I'm going to throw modesty and politeness aside and revel in it.

I love my hair.

I love how long, and soft, and fine it is - like silk against my skin when I run my fingers through it, or brushing against my shoulders or the small of my back when I wear a backless dress. I love the color of it, whether it's the glowing-from-inside fiery red when I've just dyed it or the more tame, banked-embers copper as time passes.

I love the fact that I don't need to pile pounds of product into it to make it behave. Wash it, let it air-dry, and run a comb through it, and I don't need to worry about anything else; it hangs like a waterfall down my back. As beautiful and fun as wavy hair is, and as much as I occasionally lament my hair's ability to hold anything like a curl, deep down inside I love its iron-straightness.

And most of all, I love letting people use my hair as a canvas. Looped up in braids, wrapped into twists, or rolled and pinned into indescribable towering confections (thank you, lakshmi_amman!), it is so much fun to be petted and combed and primped, and to see what it, and I, can be transformed into. It's always surprising to me, since I wear it plain and down so often, to realize just how much hair I have and what talented people can do with and to it.

That's all. Just a little bit of brightness and self-indulgent vanity on a gray Monday morning, mostly brought to you by the fabulous Victory rolls I was sporting at last night's show and my remarkable lack of crispy-fried post-show hair this morning....

I don't tend to talk a lot here about the things I make, because for the most part the things I make are pretty humdrum. I crochet blankets, or baby sweaters, or scarves, I do counted cross stitch, stuff like that. There are enough other talented fiber artists reading this that I figure I'm not making anything that a half-dozen other people (or more) reading this couldn't do, and that most likely the other folks reading honestly aren't that interested in my fiddly creations.

But I've recently started playing around with a new craft, and I'm happy enough with the piece I just finished that I want to show it off.

I've done a little bit of blackwork before (for those of you who aren't geeky fans of obscure stitchery, blackwork is a form of embroidery, usually reversible, that was popular in the Elizabethan era), but mostly just samplers, and I never practiced enough to get very good at it. So I have no idea quite why I volunteered to embroider a chemise for the current incumbent royalty in the local SCA. I've never done blackwork on clothing before, I've never taken on a big project like this, and I hadn't practiced on anything less serious. But it seemed like a good idea at the time, and I've done enough general stitchery that I figured it wouldn't be *too* hard....

( finished project pictures back here, hidden for the sake of your friends page and in case you're not enthralled by obscure embroidery.... )

I've realized that, even when I'm posting here regularly, I don't actually talk much about what goes on in my day-to-day life. I write about specific projects that I chronicle for my own awareness, or the witty or alarmingly noteworthy bits of work, or a book or movie that caught my attention for a little while, but there's very little about what goes on in my day-to-day world.

Mostly, this is because I tend to assume no one out there actually cares very much about what goes on in my day-to-day world. I've always been kind of envious of the people who do write normal, my-life-today journals, because I figured people must care about them so much more, to want to know that kind of minute detail about their life.

On the other hand, I write this for myself, too, as much as anybody else, and there's probably some future-me who's going to glance back and read this in three or four years and want a reminder of what the heck was going on. And heck, maybe someone does want to know. Stranger things have happened.

( Hidden, though, because it's long and likely not that exciting.... )

Tonight is the production of Henry V.

I should be worried. I should be jittery. I should be having pre-show anxiety, wondering if I've got my lines down just-so and if I'm going to wind up in the right place at the right time. So many of the other people involved in the show are getting nervy, and wishing they had another rehearsal or two, and I know what pre-show ramp-up is supposed to feel like, but all I feel right now is... slightly eager. Maybe a little impatient, maybe a little bit of meta-anxiety about the fact that I'm not anxious but I should be.

On the other hand, I've got it much easier than most of the other cast members. Unlike almost everybody else, I'm only playing one part (Katherine, the French princess), so I've only got one set of lines to memorize. I don't have any costume changes, unless you count putting an overdress on over my gown for the final court scene. The closest thing I have to fight choreography is remembering not to let His Majesty get too handsy with me during the wooing scene. And I'm acting opposite both wonderful actors and friends I know and trust. So my role here is fairly simple and easy.

It's interesting - dance performance has always been my first love, and my first choice for whenever I'm onstage (though even with that it's only been within the past few years that I've let myself acknowledge how much I truly love performing), but there's a completely different sort of fun to this sort of acting that I have to admit I'm learning to love, at least a little....