IdyllopusPress Presents

IdyllopusPress (old blog)

  • "Don't even think about it…"

    “Don’t even think about it,” said my son, about thirty minutes ago, as I, armed with paintbrush and paintcan, turned toward his bedroom. He is tired of the touching up. Of mom painting doors and windows and advising him to be careful while he’s running about. And it’s true that I have been going about…

  • So that's where the kitchen was once, of course

    Well, it has come to this. I would be, finally, painting floors this afternoon, but I find I have no floor paint. The lid appeared to be solidly on but when I pryed it up the paint was a solid. My hands are scratched, scraped and bruised. I’ve repaired my gourds that needed repair, gluing…

  • This Old Apartment

    A bit of congratulations are in order, for sake of bolstering. Just managed to get up the rods in the kitchen for holding pots. Kind of. And yes I know for 9/10ths of the population this would be a piece of cake but somehow I manage to always be the odd person out. First I…

  • Plays about people who don’t get along very well

    H.o.p. came bounding into the room the other day. “So you wrote lines for a play?” he said, PBS running in the background and theater a subject in a cartoon. Mom used to DO something other than work at her computer and do something. Heh? I’ve not said anything much about the plays to him…

  • Contemplating plumage

    Got my computer back and it is sitting in the back room because it’s pretty much nonfunctional right now and that’s how that stands. While H.o.p. sleepeth I blog from his pretty well dysfunctional computer which has a teeny tiny screen. It’s a dinosaur with zip memory and power (but it’s doing better than mine…

  • I don’t know why I feel like I’ve done nothing

    My computer, which had a bad Windows install with which I’d been living for a while, finally went crash and I ended up without it a couple of times over the past several weeks. The thing is everything is on my computer. All the work I do is on my computer. Words. Art. Websites I…

  • And the Carllile Women Gave a Fantastic Show

    And the Carllile Women Gave a Fantastic Show

    You know you’ve got something special when people say “This is real, this is real”. And you really know you’ve got something special when women and men are left crying. Which is what happened at the concert the Carllile women gave Sunday night. These are special people. And Sunday’s was a special event. Virginia, Calli…

  • The sessions with Junko Takeo

    Marty’s had the pleasure this week of–via recording sessions with jazz pianist, Takana Miyamoto–working with koto player Junko Takeo. I wanted to witness some of this, and she had invited me to come down, but never could sync things up with H.o.p. to get down there. I had hoped, but…and now he is playing some…

  • The Carllile Women Concert on Sunday

    Here again is the information on the Carllile concert tomorrow night. I’ve seen the set list. They will be performing several of my favorite songs. To mention a few selections: Virginia will be singing “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry”, which she sang at Thumbs’ wake years ago. And will be singing over old tracks…

  • I’m older and wiser than you (digital painting)

    I’m older and wiser than you (digital painting)

    “I’m older and wiser than you,” she said twenty-five years ago (or) Salome’s Daughter Digital painting with photo elements 2006 Lightbox enlargement

  • H.o.p. draws the White House

    The story: Tim and his robot Moby are chased by space aliens to the White House. The President isn’t there so they run around the place. Tim discovers Moby has wandered off. Then the President walks by. He’s the tour guide. Tim looks all over for Moby. Then Tim ran all over the White House…

  • Reimagining yourself is hard work

    H.o.p.: “I want to be a turtle…I guess it’s a bad idea…Ow!” Circumstance? Well, one of those small round trampolines isn’t always a trampoline. Who knew it could be a turtle shell? The transformation wasn’t as smooth as H.o.p. thought it would be, but he was determined and now I’m the mother of Turtle Boy.

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