It's coming!

It's really jarring to look at my calendar's to-do list and see only "Call Work"; "Pack"; and "Move-In Day."

The latest crop of modeling photos.

I'm starting to feel like I'm making progress. When I first got inspired to try my hand at modeling (thanks to participation in a shoot with Anna, for her portfolio, and the strong opinion of my friends that I should model for American Apparel), I had to politely ask my friends with nice cameras if they would take pictures of me. I started building a portfolio, taking note of what poses flatter me. I posted them on my modeling network page (modelmayhem.com/gnat), and made "friendships" with local photographers.

Soon, local photographers were contacting ME, instead of the other way around! Previously, I have paid the requested fee to have photos taken by Beth Souza (modelmayhem.com/BLSimaging), but this time she easily agreed to do it for the price of film, per my suggestion. I'm supposed to have another TFCD / TFP (time for prints) shoot on Sunday, also photographer's suggestion. No word on time/place yet, though.

Anyway, here are some results from yesterday's shoot with Beth:

Throwback

(Just finished the movie Humboldt County and feelin' a lil' nostalgic.)

"Lumberjacks"

http://www.flickr.com/photos/paperstar/sets/72157621909193949/

Old friend

I just wish I could tell him that things are only bad if you don't do them yourself, and that the world opens if you let it. Not to be your own life's obstacles.

Hopefully soon this will all become clear.

Meet Kpop's newest fan.

I have to preface this by saying I know next to nothing about Korea (except that Kim Jong Il is one crazy sonofabitch). I don't know a single word in Korean, I'm not sure why there is a North and a South, and I certainly wasn't aware that Koreans make some of the catchiest damn dance music, rivaling that of Lady GaGa (I swear!).

Also, I didn't know they loved hip hop moves so much. Bajillion-member boy group (well, thirteen, I guess, but according to their Wikipedia page that makes them the largest boy band in the world) Super Junior's "Sorry Sorry" video is quickly becoming one of my favorites. I can't understand anything but "sorry sorry" in the song, obviously, and yet it has been superglued in my head all day. I love the perky dance that goes with it, and I wish they'd bust this shit out at a club, 'cause I'd be all up on that. It's so cute.

I tried my best to turn up my nose at Asian pop music (I mean, a LOT of it is really cringe-worthy) but alas, I lost the fight. I am a fan.

Dream sequence.

We (who was with me?) stopped at Murphy's Market, which became Richardson's in my head. I drove; Jorge was impossible to find in the parking lot. We reached the worn intersection to turn left, and it was confusing, but I knew what to do. except I didn't do it, and panicked, and crossed the median but overshot it and ended up in the other wrong lane. I thought it would reconnect but we ended up driving through a large stone roundabout, very British, to a fountain. I ducked into a cave where some apparently homeless men had instruments, and asked how to get back to where I was going. The British man had no idea and the less lucid one just stared at me. I wanted to go to Buttermilk Lane--the driving was all easy from there. "Baywood Golf Course?" I suggested. No luck. I thought I would just have to find my way back to the main road myself.

We (me and who else??) were in someone's house, two-story, older, painted white inside. I was distraught at not knowing how to get to 3291. I looked at a loose front tooth, bottom row, in the mirror. It was coming out. I let it, but that one didn't come; instead two others I didn't even know were loose fell into my palm. Then they kept falling. Tooth after tooth broke free in my mouth until it was full of teeth, which I dropped into my hand. They all looked like baby teeth but they weren't supposed to fall out. I didn't understand. I floss and brush! I never got to my destination.

unicorn fish

lolololololololololololol

Beautiful video ...

Jeeze, I guess I'm just in the mood to cry lately.

Almost pau.

Are you allowed to pick your own ʻaumakua? If so, mine is the honu. Not just because I like it; because I feel it.

I suddenly realize the summer has not been a waste. Maybe I didn't get a job, and I have no money. But the best things I've done have been free.

I don't know how I ever could have forgotten that I climbed a mountain, but I am remembering in full force what I conquered, and that alone probably made my summer worthwhile. I felt a calm as I climbed every obstacle the trek had to offer, and my soreness for weeks after was a beautiful reminder of the strength I gained.

I learned not to fight waves but to duck and become enveloped in them.

I have embraced sand on my scalp and in every crevice.

I have swum with blue-fin trevally, yellow tang, moorish idol, triggerfish, parrotfish, Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, wrasses, puffers, eels, octopi, sea cucumbers, butterflyfish, 'ulua, and ... of course, honu.

On Monday, hold me to a promise to call about resuming Tahitian.

I suppose looking at the two-thirds of the summer already gone, it couldn't have been a waste. Because maybe next time I get lost amongst skyscrapers, or think I can't dance another day of Modern, I'll remember that I saw Honolulu from the top of Kaau Crater.

Is it weird that this made me cry?

Watch FULL-SCREEN.

I just spent hours playing online paper dolls.

So Kira got me hooked on this avatar maker again, and I have just spent a disproportionate amount of time making, basically, a virtual wishlist of clothes and hair I want. Here are the best outfits, which I saved to my computer:

And yes, the heart on the cheek is TOTALLY necessary.

Also ... I attempted my boyfriend.

All credit goes to eLouai's Candybar doll maker.

DIY Project: Recycled Bloomer-Style Underwear

The concept and instructions for this project came from threadbanger.com's video about Clare Bare's handmade, custom lingerie:

I used the pattern provided (Clare Bare Underwear Pattern), which I measured out with a ruler and freehanded.

Here is my pattern:

A note for next time, if I do this again: I would make the crotch area a bit longer, and make more of a curve for the leg holes in front.

I chose leftover, very lightweight cotton fabric from a previous sewing project (okay, so it's not EXACTLY recycled, but it's not new, either). I don't have a serger, so I skipped right to the hemming part:

A picture of my tidy seams.

This is the part I had the most trouble with, sewing the hem on the crotch curve. I'm not that skilled of a seamstress, so I'm not sure how you're supposed to make un-stretchy fabric lie flat on a curve ...

Last, I sewed on the elastic. There wasn't any fancy "purpley pink" scalloped elastic at our local fabric store, so I just went with some soft, stretchy 1/4" normal kind.

And, the finished product! They look TINY, but the elastic is extremely stretchy. They fit, in an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikini kind of way. And no, I won't model them.

"Forest Beauties"

Well, rainforest beauties. Here, a long-overdue link to the results of our photoshoot ...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/paperstar/sets/72157621016821623/

(And--note to self: stop displaying your elbows.)

Neti Pot Review

The neti pot is my new hippie voodoo magic allergy solution. I got mine at the local natural foods store, where I found it underneath the sunscreen (don't ask me why it was there).

It's essentially a gravy boat-teapot hybrid made out of white ceramic (dishwasher safe!). On one end, a little handle, and on the other, a pointy spout that you stick in your nostril.

What you do is you mix up a little tap water & salt mixture for pouring through your sinuses. The pamphlet that came with it didn't exactly recommend iodized salt, but it's all we have, so it is what I've been using. I have found that the temperature of the water is highly important. Too cold, and it's shocking; too hot, and it irritates the back passages of my nose. I also don't put too much salt, because I think that adds to the irritation, and that's not the point.

What the salt and lukewarm water mixture is supposed to do is gently buffer up the mucus lying in wait back there and wash it out. Salt water is my new favorite remedy for everything. It's not only good for this purpose of flushing out your sinuses, but it also heals piercings, loosens coral out of scrapes in your knee, and cleans and heals bloody scrapes.

I'm pretty much a believer in the neti pot. It hasn't completely gotten rid of my allergies, whatever they are, as the testimonials on the box claimed it might. But I watch in the mirror as I'm pouring water through one nostril and out the other, and big globs of whitish mucus always come out in the stream. When I have run the water through once or twice each way, I can feel the air coming in through both nostrils. My sneezing is calmed for at least a little while, until the pet dander, vog, dust, and pollen have a chance to build up in there again.

I would recommend the neti pot to anybody with allergies who has an aversion to drugs and all things non-natural, like I do. But I would NOT recommend it to anyone closed-minded or who is afraid of uncomfortable sensations. This is because I think a large part of its healing depends on the individual's belief that it will help; you cannot compare it to prescription allergy medications. Also, it feels a bit like jumping into a pool without plugging your nose. My eyes water a little, and my sinuses sting ever so slightly. The most uncomfortable part is before the water starts draining through, and it is making its way past the threshold to where it comes out the other side.

I feel good about using it, though, and cleaner for it. You can blow into a paper tissue all you want, but that doesn't get back into the deepest recesses of mucus land. Also, the neti pot method leaves no tangible waste, just muck that washes down the drain. It is the green, natural alternative to standard allergy solutions.

The Making of a Monkey

Sock #1, with legs. Probably the creepiest, funniest stage.

Addition of arms and mouth. Thankfully from this angle you can't tell I put the arms on crooked.

let's hear it for the eaaarrssss

The finished product! I skipped the embroidery across the mouth, because I like the "crazy yell" look better than closed lips.

... and some fun photo-ops with my new Sock Monkey friend.

Disappointment

I wait all day and then when I finally get to it, my skin feels hollow. Like the air isn't reaching my belly. Like a meditation, where time passes by unnoticed, but instead of becoming one within myself, the whole ugly, fake world remains standing while I collapse.

Veneers

I think it is proof of my weakness that my convictions are empty ...

My favorite lotion is Alba Hawaiian cocoa butter and my favorite drink is Thai iced tea. Or so I thought, anyway, until my dad told me I smell like Play-Doh and my mom's friend proclaimed after one sip that Thai tea tastes like "campfires."

The smart part of me (I'm not allowed to be negative about myself these days, but normally I would specify that this is the smaller part) says, "hey, you're wrong! This shit's awesome!" But the weakling part of me seeks out the Play-Doh smell and the burning wood taste, recognizing the parts that other people might find untasty.

Or maybe it's the compassion in me. Let's call it that. I'm going to go ahead and say it has to do with readily seeing things from others' perspective. I don't just mean sensory stuff like food and lotions, but also socially and emotionally. I think I have the ability to look at someone I like and see their shortcomings through someone else's insight, or the reverse of that. So it's probably not a bad thing that I can admit to cardamom's woody undertones and cocoa butter's natural bitterness.

But damnit, why people gotta hate on my shit?

The Tipping Pointe

http://www.hawaiitribune-herald.com/articles/2009/05/22/features/features03.txt

I think this dance studio should come with a disclaimer that it is JUST FOR FUN.

It's a ridiculous sham and they have been putting on recitals-posing-as-productions for an irritatingly long time, establishing for Hiloans what ballet looks like. In fact the so-called teacher instructs her dancers how to be not just aesthetically but dangerously bad (I'm surprised none of them have broken their ankles yet). Hilo thinks dance is this crap.

Miss Suen has in her possession a number of talented dancers full of potential--and she is ruining them. She does not teach technique; she teaches sparkles and "look Ma, I'm on my toes."

I find this "production" particularly offensive because back in 8th grade, when I was probably at the height of my ballet technique, studying under Nadia Cole, I performed, in her New World Youth Ballet company, the actual full-length production of the Kirov version of Sleeping Beauty. We rehearsed ourselves beyond toes and port de bras to musicality and performance quality; she taught us to be actors in a story through dancing. In other words, we rehearsed our asses off.

That year, I took a giant leap as a ballet dancer. I was put in the role of one of the first act's fairies (the pink one) as well as the gold one from the third act. The pink fairy's variation was the hardest role I had ever learned, and on pointe, no less. (Click link to see first act fairy variations: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ffAVOL7kPIY) It was a special achievement, being in level 4, while the rest were all in 5. I didn't have the foot strength or the technique comfortably under my belt yet, so it was a long, hard journey.

What we produced was a nearly-professional imitation of the entire Kirov ballet, and performed it six times. My whole community saw it and I believe it was the pride of my teacher's career. We paid the highest respect to classical ballet our little company could manage.

So when some little piece of shit dance business--for that is what it is, NOT an "academy," as the article would have you believe--comes along and butchers one of the greatest ballets of all time, well, it pisses me off. I want them to get their ugly hands off this masterpiece and leave it to people who actually want to dance, not skip around in a tutu.

Because sadly, I would be willing to bet none of these Island Dance Academy kids have ever seen a professional version of the ballet. Do they have any idea who Petipa was? When I used to take class there, because it was the only option in town, it became quickly apparent that the dancers never received any ballet education. Since they never saw how the steps should really be done, there were none they got right. None. Not even a tendu.

The only thing I have to be glad about in this kind of situation is that it gets me fired up enough to be motivated, and to be proud to be an educated, technical dancer. All I can really do is hope that one day these dancers' eyes will be opened.

Sleeping Atrocity

(image: http://www.hawaiitribune-herald.com/articles/2009/05/22/features/features03.txt)

Carabosse is supposed to be a witch, not a dominatrix ...

I fucking hate fake ballet schools.