Free shipping in my etsy store: go see 'nelle, go see 'nelle, go see 'nelle.

Talking up my sale at my etsy store makes me feel a little like Cal Worthington. So imagine, as you read the following, that I have a chimp on my lap and a tiger on a halter behind me:

From now until September 12, buy two or more items from the sale section of my shop to get free shipping on those items. That's right, you heard me folks, FREE SHIPPING! On my already low, low prices! This applies to many prints as well as some note cards, craft supplies and vintage finds. Shop now before they are all gone!

Free Shipping Section

FYI: I used to think that the 'Go see Cal, go see Cal, go see Cal' part of the jingle said 'Pussycow, pussycow, pussycow.' I thought it was his tiger's name. Which is illogical, because everyone knows it's 'Spot.'

Recent Discoveries: Bloggity Blogs

I don't know how I ended up being such a passionate blog reader, but it happened, and I'm hooked. I wanted to share a few of my recent favorites with you:

Murmers ( http://bird-murmur.blogspot.com/ ) pairs short little bits of poetic writing with these almost spiritual photographs (including a lot of polaroid sx-70, which always makes me swoon.) Each entry is short and sweet and always brightens my day.

John Foster at http://accidentalmysteries.blogspot.com/ features art and artists old and new. The whole thing is very postmodern as he has a very open view of what art really is - found photography, plastic bag sculpture, tattoo, everything goes. And that's awesome, because every post is a discovery.

Lemon Jitters at http://lemonjitters.blogspot.com posts super fun jewelry making tutorials, which I adore, because who doesn't love to learn new things? And you may not know this about me, but jewelry design is one of my secret passions. And I'm also a fan of her tidy tuesday finds.

And finally, my boy Allan Chaykin has just started a blog at http://slothart.blogspot.com and while he's only got a couple of posts up (one features me :D) I think you may be surprised at his depth. He's a smarty pants, that Mr. Chaykin.

I hope you check out my recent discoveries. And if you liked this post, I'll try to make Recent Discoveries a frequent part of my own bloggity blog.

This is why the current martial arts subculture really sucks right now.

If you follow my twitter, you might be aware that I competed at the Long Beach Internationals Martial Arts Competition, also known as IKC, this weekend. I came home with a first place trophy in Internal Styles (non Tai Chi) Advanced, and my little sister, Vivian (and before my mother can interject, I mean sister in the Kung Fu sense: someone who is a disciple of the same master as me) came home with second in Internal Styles Intermediate and a First in Northern Fist Intermediate. It was exciting and nerve wracking and my hands were shaking but the judges over looked that, which was kind.

And that is not what sucked.

This is what sucked: Apparently, the marketing geniuses behind a whole range of MMA products think that their lines of product are best represented at these events by busty, tiny waisted gals in midriff baring tops, tiny shorts, and a ton of makeup. Listen, don't get me wrong here! I'm all for looking smokin' hot when appropriate. I have little shorts and a makeup bag. Both almost never leave the house, but still. The point is, I ain't J. The problem I have with these booth babes is that the majority of women who do martial arts do not look like these women. What?! Shocked, I know, but it's true. In fact, the majority of the majority of ladies who perform at these tourneys are young(er than me,) impressionable girls who are just at the age to get their self esteem seriously effed up by the representations of the female 'ideal' in the media. So why can't the dojo, and by extension, the tourney floor, be a place where they can feel proud of the strength, power, and above all, uniqueness of their little kung fu, karate, kenpo, wushu or whatever driven little bods?

It was really gross to gaze into the rings at girls and women in gis and pads and silks and warm ups battling to be the best at what they do, and then turn around to the booths to find human Barbie dolls handing brochures to a gaggle of wolfishly staring men. Ick. And in all honesty, I did see some women on the floor who looked and dressed like the booth babes. These were usually hanging off of some Mixed Martial Arts fighter, two to a guy. And that's an attitude we would like to pass off to the girls we teach martial arts to, right?

My point is, if you are going to have lines called 'dojogirl,' or touted as the 'spirit of modern martial arts,' how about you have them represented by actual dojo girls, or women MMA fighters, like the skilled and lovely Jody De Simone, who looks nothing like a booth babe, and everything like a beautiful, bad assed woman? And let the girls and women who have already had to overcome a lot of misogyny and backwards thinking to become black belts and red belts and masters and disciples and martial artists have a world where they get to feel like the goddesses they are for once, no matter what size and shape their bodies come in.

And for the record, this is what women who do martial arts look like:

Love Letters? I do. Don't you?

Don't you love handwritten letters? To send or to receive, in the age of email and text messaging, a hand writ missive is an old fashioned pleasure. Before grad school, when I had a lot more time and money to spend, I used to send letters to everyone - my parents, friends, lovers, even a few pen pals I had picked up from the bbs world (yes, I am an uber nerd, thanks for asking.) I had a huge stockpile of fancy and funny papers, envelopes, strange stickers and exotic stamps.... What happened to all that stuff? It's in a box somewhere, or maybe I used some of it to write to do lists, and the rest got tossed in various moves.... The point is, it's all gone, and I wouldn't have even missed it, if I hadn't found http://www.papermash.co.uk/

Papermash is Lynne Robinson's new stationary e store, chock full of the sweetest, most lovely, bits and pieces for all of your letter writing, parcel sending, hostess gift giving needs. Some of my faves:

Mini Metallic Woodcut cards
There are a slew of these witty little wine tags:

Paris Polaroid Style Notecards

If you aren't familiar with Lynne, she writes one of my very favorite blogs, teaforjoy.blogspot.com, which is her exploration of tea, interior design, and the joy of simple pleasures.

To all the lovely ladies

Who add me on twitter and flickr and send me messages to "cum look" at their nudie pictures:

It's not you. It's me. I like man parts! I mean, I know you went to a lot of trouble to shave and get pierced and, uh, whatever. But I'm just not interested. You see, you ain't got nothin' I haven't already seen before, you know?

Besides, I have it on good authority mine are cuter than yours, anyway.

An Underbelly of Nature Moment

Moon snail
Originally uploaded by The-Milkshake

You may not know this about me, but I love the crawly, slimy, weird and wonderful bits of nature, what I like to refer to as the Underbelly. If there is a rock to turn over, I'm there. Got a week dead old possum on your street? I'm there. Poking it. With a stick.

So when I stumbled across The-Milkshake's photograph of a moon snail, I fell in love. She says she's holding it upside down so it doesn't SAG! Gasp! From Wikipedia:

The powerful foot enables this gastropod to plow under the sand in search of other mollusks. Upon finding one, it "drills" a hole into the shell with its radula, releases digestive enzymes, and sucks out the somewhat predigested contents.

Think on that while you eat your lunch!

The story of the ducks, for Polestar

duck
Originally uploaded by bnelle

So. Nobody knows how to get down and celebrate something like the Vietnamese. For the Kienando (the Vietnamese KF that I do) Festival that we put on every year, the parents and community provide a feast of Banh Mi (Vietnamese sammies,) roast pig, noodle dishes, rice dishes, agar (Asian style Jell-O,) fuits, cakes, and my absolute favorite, roast duck. In many Asian cultures the head of the animal is served with the rest of it. I've seen this withe pig, chicken, ducks, doves... Most of the time, the head doesn't get eaten. On the birds, there's very little meat, you know? If anyone does eat them, it's gonna be the little old Vietnamese grandmas and grandpas. The kids are way too American. They won't touch anything that reminds them of where the meal actually came from.

Anyway, at the end of the festival the masters and teachers who planned the whole thing take home the leftovers. I got a huge tray of duck bits. I ate duck every day for a week. Yum! And both the heads were in there, looking at me every time I pulled some out of the fridge... I've been interested for a long time in how inherently violent the act of eating can really be. Preparation to mastication. And how we get together for feasts and dinner parties and family dinners and eat things together. How food can be an emblem of human socialization. And I'm also interested in still lifes with food and how food can be a symbol in art for other things. So these duck heads seemed like a good starting off point to start to play with all of these ideas in a series of photographic images.

So that's the story. Expect more slightly gross food photographs in the future, and bon appetit!

Dream Job

I'm starting to think that there may be a fault in my logic about this whole unemployed thing. If there is one thing I learned in grad school, it's that my strength lies in unconventional solutions. Well, that and that there's no postmodern Romantic paradigm anymore. That's another story entirely, however. My point is, I've been seeing my skill set as fitting only three jobs: receptionist, photographer teacher, and, of course, photographer. In this troubled economy, the market for these jobs is CUTTHROAT. Literally. Watch out. So I'm trying to see myself from other angles, to develop an idea of what other, unconventional, career paths I should be looking into. Heres the short list:

1. Professional Killer/Assassin. This may seem like an obvious choice. I am, after all, a kung fu master. Add to that my wily feminine wiles, and I'm basically Elektra. All I need is a weapon of choice and a sexy, skin tight costume. Of course, actually killing people may be challenging - I do have a small, wizened heart in there somewhere - but I have grown more callous about it since I dispatched Bob this spring. Besides, I could be like a John Woo-esque kind of killer and really only take out bad guys. That's a public service, really.

2. Muse. I've actually been doing this one for a number of years as a volunteer/hobby kind of thing. So why shouldn't I get paid for it? What I do: Look winsomely into the distance, all backlit by the sun; have spirited and whimsical conversations about intellectual topics that stimulate ideas; throw passionate little fits which help your work to gain some of that angsty depth that is so hip right now. What I don't do: windows, or fall into bad lighting. A number of photographers and painters have already utilized my services. References provided upon request.

3. Witch. The post of a really serious, black hat wearing, cackling witch is hard to come by - there isn't as much call for them. Not like the old days, when curses and love potions were both held in much higher esteem. But trust me, I can do this. I have a stare that can make the blood run cold, enough cats to familiarize a whole coven, and a penchant for speaking in rhyme. Plus, I have a tremendous store of esoteric and occult knowledge. For instance, this is a real recipe for an invisibility spell: Boil a black cat so that the flesh falls from the bone. After the bones have cooled, place them, one at a time, in the mouth while looking in a mirror. When you have put the right one in your mouth, you will turn invisible. (Please note, this wisdom was collected centuries ago and is repeated in many sources. I never condone the harming of any animals. Except maybe for really nasty roosters. But never a cat. Catliness is next to Godliness, in my book.) Plus, my great great great great great grand something or other was burned as a witch in the Salem Witch Hunts. So I have serious street cred. Need a cave haunted? I'm your gal. Curses cursed? Potions brewed? Fortunes told? Cunningly pointed hats tried on? I'm also a blast at parties.

If you are interested in having someone fill one of these positions for you, please contact me for an interview. Resume furnished upon request. Serious inquiries only, please.

This is what it feels like to be a kung fu master:

Bruised. Top of head, back of head, right shoulder, right scapula, spine (near the centerish of my back, and also near the small,) right breast, both elbows, both forearms, the center of left palm, both pinkies, right thigh, both knees (quite badly, actually,) right shin near the ankle, both insteps.

In the lap of luxury

My third straight month of being unable to find a full time job has got me rethinking my favorite luxuries. What's out? The expensive anti wrinkle cream I used to buy for slightly less expensive on ebay, new shoes, and travel to anywhere. And my new top five "poor girl" luxuries:

1. Sleeping in. Where have you been all my adult life?
2. Foot and hand massages from a friend.
3. Perfectly cooked over medium eggs.
4. All the free time to organize my itunes collection that I could. ever. need.
5. Laying in bed all day on sunday, watching tv. (At his house. I still don't have tv.)

That being said, I'd still really really like a job.

Anyway, if you've a mind to, leave me a comment with one little luxury you think I should indulge in.