I love what Keri Smith is doing over on her Wish Jar Journal. In considering the number of brand she uses in her daily life, she started covering up some of the products in her house with skins that she created herself. For example, here’s her toothpaste:

As she puts it:

I wanted to consider what my house might look like with no visable brand names on packaging. This got me thinking of various methods to have products blend into my environment in a fluid way, either by simulating something that I find aesthetically pleasing, or by somehow integrating them into my psyche (ie. making them practical or necessary.)

I really like this idea. It made me look around my own house and consider all the brands I look at on a daily basis without even realizing it. It’s amazing how integrated advertisements are in our lives. Most of us don’t even question their existence anymore. Anyway, I would love to no longer look at flashy headache-y brand advertisements on a daily basis. I even started copying Keri and printed out something to cover my Advil jar with, but then realized I was out of tape.

However! I will get some tape soon, and then, look out sneaky brands!

Other branded things Keri altered:

Her Cereal Box

Her Lotion, Mouthwash, and Soap

A Pack of Gum

Peanuts

Her Dish Soap

It’s one of those days where I feel good about my work–everything is going great and I’m full of inspiration. I’m convinced there’s a way to trick myself into feeling this way all the time. After all, it’s just as possible to feel good all the time–or most of the time anyway–as it is to feel bad.

But what is causing this burst of work-related goodness? Is it because….

… I have been making a conscious effort to thank God for the opportunity and freedom to write every day?

… I have been making a conscious effort to think things like Yay, I get to write now! instead of things like Oh bummer, I have to write now?

… I just finished a large project and I’m feeling relief after the burden has being taken off my shoulders?

… this is the view out of my office window?

Your guess is as good as mine. But my hands are healed–no more pain–and I have a plate full of new possibilities before me. It’s a lovely day.

As part of Copperfield’s Reading Series, I saw the poet Billy Collins read tonight at the Luther Burbank Center in Santa Rosa.

It was actually the second time I have seen Billy Collins read. I like him. Not only are his poems entertaining and accessible, he is an great reader. He has a good sense of timing and a self-deprecating, gentle manner that reminds me of Bob Newhart. He’s the sort of person whose every observation is somehow interesting to listen to–which is probably part of why he is such a good poet.

Anyway, the crowd was ecstatic to have him, clapping at every pause and audibly saying “awww” or “hmmm” after some of the poems. It’s nice to see people that excited about poetry, even if my friends and I were the youngest people there who weren’t with their moms or getting extra credit for class.

Since it is Valentine’s Day, Collins read several love-related poems. He didn’t read my favorite of his poems, Undressing Emily Dickinson, but he did read his hilarious play on love imagery, Litany, which I pasted for you below. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Litany

You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine…
-Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general’s head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman’s tea cup.
But don’t worry, I’m not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and–somehow–the wine.

– Billy Collins

I have been in hiding. It suddenly started to seem like a ludicrous thing to do, putting my personal thoughts up on the Internet. So I’ve been putting my thoughts in places they belong–a real journal, my head, the ears of loved ones, my actions. But here I am again, posting something.

Our Word Pirates reading at the Phoenix Theater went extremely well. For some strange reason, I was not nervous when I read. In fact, I was infused with the sense that I can do this. I wish I felt that way more in life. But I wasn’t the only one who read well–everyone did. I am impressed with how the six other writers pulled together short, tight, entertaining pieces for the reading. And on top of that, we even got a big crowd.

A lot of my time has been taken up with small changes. I have been rearranging how I do things a bit. These life/work experiments are all too new to tell you if they are working yet, but I am hoping they will help me change some bad habits.

For example, I have stacked my day so that I do all my writing in the morning, and everything else, from blogging to IMing to reading the newspaper, in the evening. The theory is that I should use the freshest part of my brain for work and leave the rest for left-over stuff.

I have also been writing what I want. I’m attempting to no longer be ruled by the drive for money, and instead be ruled by my artistic impulses. So instead of pushing that idea for a short story off so I can send a query about green building designs, I am using my time to write the story. This is harder than it might seem.

And I’m drinking water. I have been thinking a lot about water. It’s this life-giving force, this all-sustaining liquid that everything is partially made up of… and I dislike it. That doesn’t seem right. So I am trying to drink only that for a while. And eat lean protein. And sit in silence more. That kind of thing. Boring to talk about, boring to adjust to, but worthwhile…? Let’s hope so.

One more thing: My Technorati Profile.

Check out Kyle’s new column at TechTarget! If you are a computer geek or simply tech-inclined, you will enjoy this column.

I’m in the process of re-designing this site. So you may have to look at some weird things for awhile, like the current banner, for instance, until I have time to make a new one. In the meantime: You’re coming to my reading, right?

My writing group, Word Pirates, is holding its first, and possibly only, reading at the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma. I will be reading for 7 minutes or so, a short story called Search of the King Cobra. Also reading: Morgan Elliott, Robin Cadogan, Noelani Price, Marcia Simmons, Steve Reid and Lindsay Riddell. There will be artists, cupcakes, swashbuckling and more!

From Here:

Link via Bookslut