Where angels go…

September 29, 2013

Today is Madeline Kahn’s birthday~! 

It is also Sunday 29th. 

I have a bunch of songs swirling around in my brain, and I’m brewing a much needed post about the pleasures of the Miles Davis Sunday. 

For now… 



For you: 

Heartbeats – Knife

Sunday 29th – Bent 

Blue in Green – Miles Davis 

Where Angels Go (Trouble Follows) – Boyce & Hart 



September 28, 2013

Today I started decorating my new journal.

I think it’s #25, but I’m not sure yet. (Holy cripes. I have more journals than I do years of my goddamn LIFE.)

It kind of let me take a break from daydreaming about the Susan Sarandon pipedreampainting, (well, that helped; and I got to email a bunch of pictures to my friend Bridget because she said she had writer’s block which was another good mental deflection) everything has been so dreamy the last few days. I feel absurdly lucky!

Twenty points to the person who can name every person on this page~~ (Excluding the illustration next to Mrs. White, or the umbrellas.)

I’m bummed this one came out so pixellated. I’m also bummed Shelley Duvall’s half of the picture from “3 Women” wouldn’t fit. I also feel like I should have had a picture of Ellen Greene as Audrey instead of Susan as Janet, because I like LSoH better than RHPS. (Is that sacrilege?)

I’m going to write a long big girl blog about the process of starting journals next week. I’m still not done with my current one, (nicknamed “Derple”) so I won’t be ready to start-start this journal for a week or so probably. (I have about 20 pages left.)

This is what I’m using, but I customized it a little.

I’m still obsessed with Cagney and Lacey, but I figured I could just collage a bunch of pictures of them on the inside of this new one instead.

The text says “Vigilante Justice” with a bunch of pre-teen hearts, because I can’t really be bothered to take myself seriously.

I’ve been needing one that’s unlined for awhile. The last few pages of Derple have been complete and total anarchy. Cliff, the journal before Derple was completely unlined, which was nice; but chaotic. The Barry Gibb Journal, which was before Cliff, had dots. (Leuchtturm makes GREAT notebooks. I would totally recommend them to everyone!!!) I thought about getting another dotted one this time, but my housemate had a quad-ruled composition book he didn’t want, so I decided to steal that instead. WHICH: meant I spent all the money I would have on a new book, on color prints and Stabilo 88s.)


I am mucho pumped!

(UGH, I thought this lined journal was going to be a much needed break from the “blank page”, but I was so SO WRONG. I’m excited to be able to keep all of my thoughts together in one place again!)



September 26, 2013

I’ve gained a few new followers over the last few days (gasp… haha) I just wanted to let everyone know this is more of my personal nonsense blog. (Personal nonsense + regular nonsense is at my tumblr.) I should get my grownup card revoked, honestly.

I do more of my blogcademy inspired blogging over at Bittaterrific.

If you don’t mind hearing me ramble about art, by all means, stick around. I have a lot of strange irritants when it comes to making things, which is why I typically use this blog.

Over at bitta, I do more regularly scheduled reader based content as opposed to me being a crank-o-saur.

Either way, welcome! I hope everyone’s autumn has been smashing : )

Too soon.

September 18, 2013

About my last entry, I mean.

I stumbled upon Broken View’s flickr after watching the episode of Cagney and Lacey featuring Daryl Stokes (probably my favorite villain aside from Mansfield). I’d been half paying attention (hello: nervous Cagney makes me really excited~!) and half doodling hospital beds.

Thank the sweet lord for this strange person who’s obsessed with UrbEx. God bless the soul who captured all these photographs. (If you can make it through their photo stream and not be profoundly moved, hats off to you.)


Next, the gouache!

(And probably Susan Sarandon.)

(No, definitely Susan Sarandon.)


September 15, 2013

Fuck, you guys.

My life has been so crazy.

Tonight I was thinking about value. Not like, monetary or emotional value; like, value. 


I should have just said greyscale. Whatever.

Long talks with my friend Fif (who is phenomenally gifted with this kind of thing) have lead me to realize what’s really lacking when I draw/paint things is a grasp of value. I love my blendy stick (aka paper stump) but it can only do so much for you when you’re still trying to figure out where you want the light source to be in your drawing, and what that means for the other shapes in terms of highlights and shadows.

Composition is tricky, like, whether you’re writing, or creating something more visual; figuring out where you want things to go & how those things relate to the other things in their environment can give you a headache.

Right now, I wanted to be working on a yet-to-be-decided drawing that probably would have featured Susan Sarandon with a long, wispy braid; and some sort of vintage hospital ward. (I just rewatched the Witches of Eastwick the other night for no good reason, and it was the best choice I’ve made in a longass time.)

My brain has this wonderful fascination of the paradox of “the hospital”. (Conundrum-y because you either get well…or you don’t.) The other thing that sort of spurred this weird idea was my inaccurate memory of one of the scenes in WoE. (I was thinking towards the end that Michelle Pfeiffer’s character Sukie was in a communal ward as opposed to just a shared room. I almost don’t even want to watch it again, because the version I remember seems much dreamier.)


That’s something you don’t see with a lot of hospitals, right?

I wanted to draw one like this:

(I think.)


The original picture is much less…fake 35mm. I can never seem to find the type of dreaminess I’m looking for. *sigh*

I don’t know how this all relates to each other– and I’ve also heard on fairly decent authority that SS isn’t a very nice person. (Though, I suppose I’d rather make that assertion for myself. Given the stress involved with making films, it’s hard to believe *anyone* would want to be nice -all- the time.)

One of my bosses gave me new shampoo the other day, and I’ve just tried it out. (My hair is nice and dry finally!) This has nothing to do with anything.

Honestly, I just want to talk about hospitals, and how not being able to draw things that feel accurate to my memory of them; or accurate to my fabricated memory; or accurate to how they look in my brain is frustrating.

I’m having, as Hannah and I discovered, an Ira Glass crisis.

Eventually I’ll be able to create the art I like.

For now, I suppose; I’ll settle for the spirit of the chase.

Donna Fargone

September 4, 2013

One of my friends on facebook posted this article, and it piqued my interest. (A lot of times when you link another wordpress post it will ping back to the author, so if she stumbles upon this post, my apologies in advance.)

It’s called “FYI: if you’re a teenage girl“.

I figured it might be another affirming post that life isn’t really as shitty as it seems when you’re 13-18 (or 24 as the case is sometimes…hahah) but it wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, those posts have their own set of problems (like: hello, what happened to self betterment?) but they often reinforce the idea that though you may feel like you’re orbiting in the universe by yourself; you’re not alone.

The author goes on to remind girls that they need to be more aware of how they present themselves on the internet. A valid point, don’t get me wrong; but it’s a problem that needs to be addressed to both genders. Had she added in a comment such as “if I caught my boys doing that….xyz….” I may have been more apt to congratulate her on her words. Even though I’m in my mid twenties, I felt like I was being talked down to by this woman, a stranger, who wasn’t speaking directly to me, or about me. (I was once a teenage girl, don’t get me wrong; but I’d have been much more keen on having a picture of Abby Lockhart to represent my inner angst as opposed to one of me not wearing clothes.)

Regardless, I think what she’s trying to say is very valid, and important for a young generation to realize: our actions have consequences. We cannot undo what’s been done on the internet.

What I think is severely misguided is that she’s only addressing half of the population that needs this message. (Heck, even adults can use a reminder once in a while.) When are we going to stop shaming girls for expressing their sexuality? I understand not wanting to encourage this at a young age; but we need to start telling them what’s REALLY wrong about their choices because it’s not that they feel comfortable enough in their own skin to post a picture of it on the internet.

I can’t accurately express how furious I am that we live in a society that has such vicious double standards with regards to gender. I feel like (and this may be rather presumptuous) she wouldn’t have the same issue if her boys were seeing pictures of other boys wearing only a towel. Because she wouldn’t be worried about them being sexually stimulated in any way. (Which I suppose would be a different issue for a different day.)

I’m having trouble formulating my thoughts in a concise and coherent way at the moment. I think it’s because I empathize with what her goal was in making such a post, but I’m also really ashamed that society has reinforced everyone’s belief that a woman (or girl) displaying her sexuality openly is somehow an issue. Also, that boys are sex hungry, hormonal fiends. It’s a spectrum. To pigeonhole entire groups of people (who all different in some way) into small categories is just– it’s wholly and totally ignorant; but not misunderstood.

In other news, school’s starting for a lot of my comrades. I haven’t been to school in two years (haha college…) and I started singing this song yesterday night when I realized no night will ever be a school night again:



August 29, 2013

Yo, so– I haven’t forgotten about doing the 30 day meme I started in June, it’s just that the next question is about describing your best friend; and I just never feel like I have the energy required to complete such a post. I have so many people I consider my best friends, and doing them each justice is a gargantuan task. They’re all so lovely and wonderful in a variety of ways which is why I keep them in my life, & close to my heart.

With that said, I’ve been having a strange issue lately. Aside from accidentally erasing my big girl blog (oops!) and all of its content (double oops!) I’ve been finding myself increasingly bored with a lot of normal media consumption lately. (Maybe “art”? I’m not sure.) Nothing’s been holding my focus in terms of storytelling (TV, movies, or books) and it’s really starting to get me irritated. I want to read all of a fic, for example– but as soon as something asinine happens that I disagree with (whether it’s a minor spelling error or a major mischaracterization) I can’t keep reading.

I haven’t read a good fic in SO GODDAMN LONG.

Favorite episodes of my favorite TV shows even sound boring to me these days. Christine Cagney getting shot? Snooze. Group of ER docs getting sent to sexual harassment class? Double snooze. Captain and CMO of a federation starship finally realizing that they’re deeply in love with each other but too embarrassed to say so without mind implants? BOH-RINGAH.

Is nothing good anymore?

I don’t know what it is!

I’m thinking it may be partially due to the fact that I want stories to go other places than they actually do; and knowing where I want them vs. where they end up makes me sad. (Unfulfilled is probably a better word for what I feel. Sad isn’t really it. It seems to immature and vague.)

I keep waiting for my imagination to fill in the gaps of desire that I’m searching for, and some sleepless nights, I’m mildly successful. Dreaming droopy eyed about Alex and Olivia finally getting their shit together, or how Dr. Crusher would handle Jack’s absence during their marriage, or how Cagney would have dealt with actually being pregnant instead of thinking about it. I like gripping my arms around my pillows and pretending I’ll actually be able to sleep that way comfortably. (This never works.)

I’m not sure why everything is actually boring me senseless, yet I have no desire to see a story of my own through to fruition. Even the original things I’ve been working on haven’t had any flair to them recently. (Though I’m almost done with a second draft of my pilot, and I’m actually mildly pleased with it– which is good.)

Maybe I’ll imagine something worth writing down one of these days?

Until then, I guess I’ll have to ride this wave of consumable media malaise.

Day(s) 04, 05, and 06.

July 30, 2013

What I ate today, in great detail: 

Funny today is the day I choose to write about it, because I ended up skipping my favorite meal of the day which is breakfast! I rarely skip breakfast. I suppose I did eat an ice cream sandwich, so… never mind. When I’m nannying, I just have a bit to eat for breakfast and lunch, (which today was two leftover sausages and some flatbread); and then I’ll head home for dinner. The woman I’m working for had a pretty late day today, so her housemate made myself, and her son a really lovely dinner. We had a bit of steak, potatoes, and corn on the cob. IT WAS AWESOME. I also nursed the same cup of coffee all day, because I kind of became unmotivated to drink it; and thus spent the day drifting in and out of naps. Whoops!

My definition of love, in great detail: 

I remember what I put for this question when I answered it three years ago, and I’m tempted to keep the same answer; but I’m not quite sure yet. Love is such a complex, fickle element of life, I feel like it would be arrogant to even try and put it into words. It’s a noun, a verb, with a few letters an adjective or an adverb; I’m not even sure what love is. I know I’ve felt it, I know the people and art I love make me feel insufferably positive; but I don’t think that’s what love is. Heaven forbid someone I love makes me feel bad for a hot second, should I drop them on the pavement? I love doing certain things, even when they make me want to stab my eyes out. (Like writing.) I love certain music, even when I’m feeling totally awful. (Hello, SKETCHES OF BROADWAY AND NIGHT RIDE HOME? YES PLEASE.) I don’t want to, by any means opt out of answering this question, so I’ll say that I don’t want to minimize its complexity, or what it means to others by defining what it means to me.

With that said, my answer from 2010 was this: Love is, finding someone you want to make happy for the rest of your life.

I agree with this statement, but I was still really hung up on finding a boyf at the time, that I wasn’t even taking anything else into consideration.

You know what?

Love is a hot cup of coffee on a rainy day with an open book and a Miles Davis album. Truth.

My day, in great detail: 

Unfortunately my day was quote boring, which isn’t usually the case. Nothing today happened that was particularly noteworthy, so I’m going to paste a text post I made on my tumblr the other day of the WORST day I’ve had in recent memory. I also really wanted to write in my journal today, and didn’t end up getting around to it, so there’s that….


Today so far:
. Had to drive all the way across town with the boy I nanny to get my new insurance card. 
. My sister forgot to leave the key out so we had to break into his house. 
. The kid I nanny for gets carsick (surprise!) and I rear ended someone while trying to prevent him from throwing up in my hair. 
. Went to the pharmacy only to find out I owed triple what I normally do because of my new insurance.
. But I couldn’t pay for it because my boss’ check bounced! 
. Then my brother had to drive to the pharmacy and give me money. 
. Which made me late to meet my friend for dinner. 
. Then, about five blocks from her house I crashed my moped full speed into the car in front of me! 
. Say a prayer, the only thing that’s yet to happen to me today is dying!


Day(s) 01, 02, and 03:

July 23, 2013

I’ve kind of let the ball drop on doing the 30 day meme, but I can’t say I didn’t warn you about my likelihood of doing so in the first place.

Day 01: Introduce yourself.

My name is Mac, the three television characters that most represent me are Christine Cagney from Cagney and Lacey; Susan Lewis from E.R.; and Dorothy Zbornak from the Golden Girls. (Because I’m stubborn, unsure of myself, and relentlessly sassy.) Coffee and cream make up the contents of my bloodstream, I like writing about hospitals, and it takes me a long time to go to sleep at night because that’s the only time my brain is clear enough to fully imagine things. When I was growing up, I went through a phase of loving to read, hating to read, and realizing that I just needed to find the right book to hold my attention. One of my favorite people/good friends taught sixth and seventh grade, and then became a librarian; and even she couldn’t get me into reading.

I earnestly enjoy the Lawrence Welk Show (JO ANN CASTLE HOLY CRAP), I’ve found that keeping insulin syringes around is handy for other stuff besides diabetes (namely getting out splinters), and I’m the type of person who always has a song stuck in their heads. (Right now it’s “I’m Late” by Billinski). I’m not very good at videogames, I’m really good at writing sassy teen girls, and currently my right ring fingernail is ingrown. (As of this morning. OUCH.) I’ve been trying to keep a big girl blog over at bittaterrific.com, but I’ve found that what makes me happiest are solipsistic flights of fancy. …asshole alert, I know.

Janis Siegel is my favorite lady singer, (with Joni Mitchell in a close second; Carmen McRae and Blossom Dearie are tied for third) Paul Simon is my favorite dude singer. Divaville is the best radio show ever, because vocal jazz really gets my bones excited. I feel like Gilda Radner and Madeline Kahn are my older Aunts (think: Jet and Frances from Practical Magic) a lot of times I’ll imagine us hanging out and drinking coffee together.

I like picking favorites of things because then when people ask me what my favorites are, I have an answer right away as opposed to wasting their time. (Hannah and Her Sisters is my favorite movie, Dianne Wiest is my favorite actor, The Manhattan Transfer is my favorite band, and magenta is my favorite color.)

I also don’t know how to start and end things very well, and it often irritates my anxiety.

So I suppose this is the end of day one… hahaha

Day 02: My first love, in great detail.

This question seemed a bit invasive at first, but I think it’s because I was taking it at face value. (I have had a major unrequited love situation going on for the better part of my life, which I don’t really care to discuss, lest the aforementioned party find this blog somehow…)  The first things that honestly came to mind when I thought about first loves were the following:

  1. Sharon, Lois, and Bram’s Elephant Show
  2. Lucille Ball

The first, cemented my deep love of tight harmonies and full female voices. I started watching TES when I was really young, and I remember loving all of the adventures they went on through Toronto. What sticks with me the most is the episode called “Three Bears.” (I went as Sharon’s character, Baby baby baby Bear for Halloween last year!) Chuck Mangione is their special guest for that episode, and the four of them get together and sing the alphabet. I’m sure it sounds really dumb, but after loving that episode so much; it’s no wonder I fell head over heels for vocal jazz later in my life!

Lucille Ball was my first real positive female role model. I remember her determination really resonating with me. She always wanted to be in Ricky’s shows, and even though she was rarely successful, things always ended up alright. Lucille Ricardo was the first person I tried to imitate with my writing. I heard her voice, and tried my best to translate it to the page. (Not to mention, Lucille Ball is a fucking ROCKSTAR amirite?)

03. Your parents, in great detail:

I don’t feel like talking about my actual parents, so I want to talk about my acquired parents instead.

Julie: was the first person I decided I wanted to be my friend (who was my parents’ age). She was my sixth and seventh grade teacher, and I was pretty much infatuated with her. She seemed to have her life together (unlike my parents who fought a lot) and she had a very colorful wardrobe. Throughout high school, I emailed her so much it’s ridiculously embarrassing. What I love about her though, is that even though she’s like, thirty years older than me, we are always on the same wavelength. (Seriously though: one time I put some of the lyrics to Chattanooga Choo Choo as my facebook status and she posted the next ones right away. SWOON.)

Lee was my second surrogate mother. My dad was essentially begging her to meet me because I was failing school one year during NaNoWriMo, and she happened to be the executive editor of a lit mag. Last year I housesat for her through all of August, and I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with both her, and her family. She’s quite lovely, and has been really kind to me! Once, when we were getting drinks with my friend Bridget, Lee told me that she thinks of me like a daughter too, which was really great to hear.

Cathy: went to high school with my dad. Through some random chain of events, they ended up reconnecting, and through some other random chain of events, the two of us ended up speaking more than they did. I like hanging out with Cathy because the two of us make art together, and cheer each other on with our hobbies. We like to get breakfast and then go scope out Goodwill every so often. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who knows my actual parents really well, so when I relay stories it’s easier for her to understand what’s going on.

I had a few others that I wanted to add to the list, but our inability to see each other after our paths had initially crossed made it too difficult. (Mostly they were to busy or preoccupied with other things, which I completely understand. I seem to gravitate towards busy people for some reason… Hm….)

Anyway… here you go for today…

My Geminian solipsism has lead me to be reinterested in this 30 day meme I did on my LJ in 2010. I doubt I’ll complete it in 30 days, perhaps I’ll fill in a few prompts here and there; but the questions are meaningful, and it’s interesting to see where you’ve come in the span of three years.

Would anyone be interested in filling out some prompts with me?


Day 01 – Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love, in great detail
Day 03 – Your parents, in great detail
Day 04 – What you ate today, in great detail
Day 05 – Your definition of love, in great detail
Day 06 – Your day, in great detail
Day 07 – Your best friend, in great detail
Day 08 – A moment, in great detail
Day 09 – Your beliefs, in great detail
Day 10 – What you wore today, in great detail
Day 11 – Your siblings, in great detail
Day 12 – What’s in your bag, in great detail
Day 13 – This week, in great detail
Day 14 – What you wore today, in great detail
Day 15 – Your dreams, in great detail
Day 16 – Your first kiss, in great detail
Day 17 – Your favorite memory, in great detail
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday, in great detail
Day 19 – Something you regret, in great detail
Day 20 – This month, in great detail
Day 21 – Another moment, in great detail
Day 22 – Something that upsets you, in great detail
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better, in great detail
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry, in great detail
Day 25 – A first, in great detail
Day 26 – Your fears, in great detail
Day 27 – Your favorite place, in great detail
Day 28 – Something that you miss, in great detail
Day 29 – Your aspirations, in great detail
Day 30 – One last moment, in great detail