get out the pencils, put away the thread

I’ve completely forgotten how to write and I don’t have any ideas about anything.

I do, however, have a collection of crafts and a pile of new gadgets. I got teased by most of my friends, but I couldn’t help it. Pencils down, hobbies up.

During the strike, I was often reminded of an Onion piece that came out after 9/11: “Not Knowing What Else To Do, Woman Bakes American Flag Cake.”

I knitted scarves. I sewed dresses, shirts, blouses, and fabric scarves (named “Scarfish,” and also declared both “uncomfy” and “weird.” But the first one I made, for Anna Beth, was a huge success, because it got the AB Chao stamp of approval).

I made little fabric dolls for a friend’s 35th birthday, catnip-filled toys, hand-embroidered bags (one was my strike bag — small enough to wear every day while picketing), skirts, and passport covers. Yes, passport covers. Also, I learned that ripped t-shirts don’t make very good fabric for knitting, unless you are making some kind of floor rug.

I made a book sculpture, a jar full of japanese paper stars, and on one particularly low day I attempted origami swans. Continue reading

Picket Lung

I know it’s important during week four to keep up the fight, the resolve, the rah-rah-rah, but here on week four, day four, I have woken up with a serious case of Picket Lung.

That’s the Radiohead song Laura House and I wrote yesterday while we walked, because we picket in a very active construction zone. (To be fair, I kept making her come up with more lyrics with me, while she marveled, “Wow, you’re really going with this thing, huh? Joke’s kinda…. okay!”)

If Thom Yorke walked our line, perhaps we’d get to hear: Continue reading