dining room

I’d known from the time we moved in that I wanted to paint the dining room two shades of yellow, but it took a long time to find the colors that matched the image I had in my head. In the end, we went with ‘Golden Yellow’ on the upper section, and ‘Bicycle Yellow’ on the bottom half (both from Ralph Lauren, much to my chagrin). We did the actual painting in December, finishing up just in time for our housewarming party on the 17th.


Dining room paint job, upper half complete.

Halfway through the first coat, the upper yellow looked really dark, next to all the white on the other walls. We had some challenges with this paint, as one gallon wasn’t mixed properly, and had little clumps of pigment floating throughout. Rather than taking it back (the choice I will definitely make in the future), we mixed the two gallons together and then smoothed, smeared, and picked out with toothpicks the clumps of pigment as they appeared on the roller and walls. As a result, we suspect that the walls are lighter than, and not a true match with, the intended color. We like it this way, though, so it worked out well.


Dining room paint job, front corner.


Dining room paint job, door to kitchen.

Particularly when I was just starting to paint the lower section, the yellow looked really brassy, and notably more green, compared to the yellow on the upper part of the room. Again, it looked the worst when I’d only edged it; once the third coat went on, it looked pretty good. We’re used to it now, and of course much of it is blocked from view by furniture, a ficus tree, and paintings. Nonetheless, it’s still quite bright, and it’s lovely in the morning with the sun coming in that side of the house.

Completing this room has had the unforeseen effect of making the rest of the house look very dull. I’ll get to work painting the living room just as soon as I pick a color.

dining room

cold weather woes

Having spent so many years in places where winter starts on November 1st, it’s still somewhat shocking to me to have winter come in with a vengeance in February. I’ve already adjusted to the idea that winter is mild, it’s in the 30s, blah blah blah and then, wham! Suddenly my hair is standing on end from static electricity, I’m slathering on body butter like there’s no tomorrow, and I can’t work in the basement for longer than an hour or so without starting to chatter. I’ve taken to wearing my silk long johns in the house, along with slippers and the standard several layers of wool, because (as I’m sure is the case everywhere) natural gas rates are still going up up up. I haven’t quite gotten to the hat stage, but if I had some of those oh-so-punk-rock fingerless gloves, I wouldn’t be above putting them on.

Along with all of this comes the inevitable sinus infection. This year’s isn’t so bad, but it’s dragging and I’d really rather just not have any more head congestion. Enter my nemesis: the Neti pot. I have been (strongly) encouraged by my acupuncturist to use the Neti pot to clear out my sinuses and prevent a lingering low grade infection. And, I have used it before, and it’s not unbearable (8 years of competitive swimming left me with a chronic shoulder injury and the ability to control the flow of air through my nose in pretty much any way you might come up with). It’s just not that fun, and it’s a pretty ignoble endeavor, bending over a sink to pour salt water into your nostril. Yeah. Not to mention kind of messy.

But, in the interest of remaining off of antibiotics, I will get out the little pot, polish it up, and follow the recommendation of the person I pay for such advice.

Right after I put on another sweater.

cold weather woes

basement workshop

After many delays, I invested time today in getting the basement really set up for working with glass. Over the six months—it’s hard to believe it’s been that long—since I took the mosaic-making workshop in Ann Arbor, I’ve slowly accumulated the necessary supplies and tools. I now have two work tables (one made from two sawhorses and a door, and one a converted sideboard), shelves, a selection of stained glass, grout, primer, plywood, a jigsaw, storage containers, two kinds of adhesive, safety goggles, and the necessary tools for actually cutting the glass itself. Most importantly, I have the space, as we’ve worked hard to get the non-mosaic related stuff in the basement organized and stored and distantly as possible from the space where the little shards of glass are likely to be flying around.

In a happy coincidence, a friend from college who lives in town has also recently learned to make mosaics, so he and I have had two successful play dates so far. The process is simple: he comes over, we both sit in the basement and work on our individual projects, and everything gets stored on my aforementioned shelves. Today I was able to have everything organized and set out when he arrived, so we both made quite a bit of progress on the pieces themselves. He’s been generous enough to allow me to use the vitreous glass tiles that he bought as a lot on eBay, so we’ve had fun exploring the colors and exclaiming over the sheer volume of tiles he’s acquired. I imagine that I won’t work with tiles exclusively; on my current piece (an exciting 9×9 inch square) I plan to used stained glass for the background after working the foreground in tile.

This evening, after our play date was over, I spent some further time gluing my tiny pieces of tile to the board so that I could feel accomplished before heading to bed (I like to lay out relatively large sections, swap pieces in and out, generally fiddle around with the tesserae, and then glue them down all at once when I’m satisfied with the final result). Having just started today, I’ve completed maybe a quarter of the surface (so, if you’re following along at home, that would be a 3×3 inch square…in 5 hours of work), and the last thing I did before cleaning up was do the edge tiles, so that they can set up overnight. Which means that with only 15 more hours of work, I’ll be ready to agonize over the grout color and find out if I remember how to apply it!

It’s really amazing how much time even small works take, which I suppose is why they cost quite a bit as art pieces. If I were figuring my time at my adjunct teaching rate (let’s not even consider an attorney rate), I’d be looking at a $400 trivet, before even thinking about the cost of supplies and the nebulous calculation of the market value of my creativity itself. Of course, I hope I was a better sociology professor after 8 years than I am a mosaic artist after 6 months! Check back with me in a half dozen years or so.

basement workshop

the season of water

For the past two and a half years now, I have been getting acupuncture treatments with five element acupuncture practitioners. All of the people I’ve seen at Crossings graduated from the same school of acupuncture here in Maryland. Five element acupuncture is a variant of traditional Chinese medicine (I’ve heard it described as ‘Chinese acupuncture using Japanese needles’), although I don’t know enough about these fields to say more than that.

One thing I’ve liked with this style of medicine is the way in which the diagnosis and treatment resemble a logic puzzle, which, as the daughter of a mathematician, I have always enjoyed. From symptoms and patterns that may be the same in a variety of people, the acupuncturist determines the causative or constitutive factor of the imbalance. What this means, in my lay interpretation, is that the imbalance may manifest as symptoms in any element, but the root will lie in the element that is dominant or formative for the person. Each of the five elements is associated with various factors, for example an emotion, a time of year, and a color. There’s plenty written about this, in both more clear lay person terms and in more accurate technical ones; I apologize for vagaries of understanding or expression in this brief synopsis.

I bring all this up because winter, the season we’re currently in, is the season that corresponds with my constitutive factor, which is water. For me, with my auto-immune thyroid disease and history of structural alignment issues, the imbalances have been varied, but treatment in water has had the most success in improving my overall health and constitution. In terms of the logic puzzle aspect, reading a description of the seasonal element (provided by the folks at Crossings) is a bit like reading a description of your astrological sign: it’s eerily familiar, and it brings into the light things about yourself that you wouldn’t have listed if asked, but which are clearly there when called to your attention.

When I read that description, the concept of holding two opposites in the same vessel particularly resonates with me, even in as simple a way as my relationship to the season. For many years, winter has been my favorite season. I love the crisp air, the colors, the quality of the light, the clarity of the moon and stars, the starkness of the landscape, and all of the activities that come with it, from playing in the snow to the baking and cooking of winter foods. Yet, I was hardly ever truly comfortable during the winter season: I became cold very easily and found it difficult to impossible at times to warm up again, and I suffered from incredibly dry skin. Since my thyroid disease has been diagnosed and properly treated, I’ve learned that both of these difficulties are common with low thyroid function: the ability of the body to internally regulate temperature (I had inverse problems of being easily over-heated in the summer) and to use water ‘properly’ in systemic maintenance. What is interesting to me, then, is the correlation with an imbalance in the water element in the physiological symptoms I had, but also the way in which I mentally and emotionally enjoy the season even with the attendant physical discomforts.

To sum up, I gain a great deal of nerdy pleasure from discovering the layered ways in which my physiological experiences, my western medical diagnosis of disease, and my acupuncture treatments align. The convergence is remarkably intellectually satisfying to me. And, unlike many people I know, I find that I have absolutely no curiosity about the mechanics of acupuncture. The system is clearly described, internally consistent, and I am more healthy than I’ve been in years, even by the measures of western medicine. That’s good enough for me.

the season of water

reflecting on 2006

This past year included several good changes for me. I bought a house, I left teaching, and I moved to a new state.

I also learned to do two things I’ve wanted to learn for years: how to use a pottery wheel, and how to make art mosaics. I plan to work in both these media during the coming year, and it’s always nice to be able to accomplish something on my list of things to do in my lifetime.

On a smaller scale, I successfully knitted two scarves–one for me, and one for my toddler pal. I technically learned to knit in 2005, but these are to date the only two things I’ve successfully completed, and I have yet to learn how to knit things that are not rectangles of some kind. I have yet to return to studio painting, but I painted my dining room and one bathroom, and I have plans to paint nearly every other room in our house. I am nowhere near as skilled a painter as my grandfather, but I was pleased to paint the rooms without using edging tape, and with only minimal drips on the plastic (I haven’t taken the leap of some in my family of not putting down plastic at all).

This past year I also lost my pet hamster, Ernest, to old age. When I got him in 2004, it had been 10 years since the last time I’d had a pet. He was a good little guy, and well worth the $8.99 we paid for him.

All in all, 2006 was a full and swiftly moving year. It’s left me with lots to build on for 2007.

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mosaic mirror
My first mosaic project, made during the mosaic workshop I took in Ann Arbor, inspired by my grandparents’ blueberry farm.

reflecting on 2006