Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Called to Order

Sometimes I'm the ancients Greeks, staring up into the abyss and conjuring shapes from a mess of scattered light. I'm assigning names and histories and reasons, which in turn create something for me--a name, and history, and reason. Maybe even purpose.

Sometimes I'm the mathematician, correlating symbols to repeating patterns in physics, in weather, in chemistry. I'm crafting an equation, a sentence in numbers, to explain, or to derive, possibly... to establish.

Sometimes I'm the surgeon. Slicing or dissecting, to see that everything is set to right. The twists and the curves don't bother me. I recognize the system in the mess.

Sometimes I'm the the artist, transposing the same shape over, and over. Designating meaning to color, and shade, and line. Completing the picture.

Sometimes I'm the drawing.
Sometimes I'm the anatomy.
Sometimes I'm the formula.
Sometimes I'm the constellation.

Sometimes I hope someone will call me out from the chaos. Will carve out my place and set me upon it.

Sometimes I have to do it for myself.

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Rehash

Today I was inspired by a friend to write something--anything! once a week or so. Wednesdays, perhaps, and neglect this poor dusty blog no longer. Wish me luck?


Monday, November 17, 2014

Neglect

Leave it alone for too long and it loses its form. It becomes emaciated, or shapeless, or blobbish. This is not ideal. Absolutely not recommended.

But spend too much time on it and it can cause an obsession that leads to grotesque outcomes. Overdone. Too far. Hard to watch.

What I'm trying to say is, exercise is great for everyone. Except you, extreme body builders. It's too much. Bring it down a thousand notches.

Thanks,
Management

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Phone Woes.

I am now no stranger to the water-damaged electronics process. 

Which is a terrible truth. 

Honestly, all that R&D money... Surely some of it is going into waterproof phones? Anyone? 


Monday, March 31, 2014

Spelling, You Guys. She's a Ruthless Mistress.

Naval Gazing vs. Navel Gazing




  • Look, Bobby! Look at the magnificent ships as they pass by in the bay!



  • Look, Bobby; becoming a successful adult requires the subtle skill of criticizing yourself more harshly than any other being on the planet could hope to achieve. It's an exercise in self-hate, really. Try it a little each day until you've mastered it. 



-alternately-


  • Look, Bobby! Study the lint in it's natural habitat--my belly button! Isn't it just fascinating?!



Sunday, March 30, 2014

Dormancy

Ah, the obligatory, apologetic exposition regarding an unintended sabbatical post.

This little blog home is more than a bit dusty at the moment, sadly, and surely seems likely to continue as such. At least until June. 

Working a great deal between two different, beloved jobs (and still managing to feed and occasionally bathe children) while adjusting to the husband's new and even more rigorous schedule, all simultaneously concurring with longer writing projects at hand, have meant a loss of attention to the Harkness. 

Never fear, I'll make certain the place is thoroughly (and a bit more regularly) swept, for the allergy prone. 


Friday, December 20, 2013

It's in the details...

Aaron is always running into free sunglasses, partially because he works near the beach, where they get left behind almost daily. 

Today he was wearing a pair of off-brand Ray Ban-ish shades, with one too many feminine details to keep them from a unisex classification. I endeavored to enlighten him, with hilarious results, especially when Miah chimed in at the end. 

Krisann: Those are for women.
Husband: They're fine.
Krisann: They're not the right size for your face.
Aaron: They're exactly the same size as my last ones that broke.
Krisann: They have tortoiseshell coloring.
Aaron: So?
Krisann: The print is vaguely giraffe-esque.
Aaron: What? No it isn't.
Krisann: They say "Jolie Rose" on both sides and the front.
Aaron: That says Joel Ross.
Krisann: Those are 100% ladies' sunglasses.
Miah: Those are ladytastic!
Krisann: You are so my kid.