Can it be?

Is it possible, after all this time, that I am not, in fact, completely unemployable?

At any rate -- I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed, and asking anyone who sees this to do the same!

I *might* have a job offer in the works. Now mind you -- it's not all sexy and glamourous, but *if* it happens, I might just get stationed right next to a really high fence.

And we all know how I *love* taking pictures right next to really high fences.

:^) :^) 

Aldo sightings reported.

The once outgoing wolf known as Aldo, who fell off the public radar screen a few months back, was apparently sighted at a number of locations in the lower Rio Grande Valley this past Monday. He appears to be healthy, happy, and very much up to his old tricks, including a whole string of opportunistic drive-by fursuitings. He is seen here paying homage to one of his principal intellectual forebears near the Caballo Dam spillway, a few miles south of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, where children, their parents, and entire families fishing downstream in the Rio Grande stopped to wave at him happily.

On other stops in the trip, typical of Aldo's prior outings, he posed with various spiritual and religious edifices of particular note. in Garfield, New Mexico, he saw fit to reprise his "furinus vobiscum" pose from a prior outing to the Spanish-colonial era Salinas Pueblo mission at Quarai (thoroughly photodocumented elsewhere), but alas, drew the attention of no more than a nearby barking terrier:

His subsequent appearance at the far more historic church of San Albino on the plaza in La Mesilla, New Mexico, however, drew delighted laughter and good-hearted-waves from a handful of bar-hopping adults:

Artist and photographer David Fleet, of El Paso, Texas, accompanied the reportedly temperamental Aldo on his historic trip over the back roads of New Mexico's Lower Rio Grande Valley, and provided the photographs which form the basis for this story. "One minute he'd be giddy with joy, waving happily at kids; the next he'd be muttering something under his breath something about it being hot and humid and being sick of the damn Papparazi cutting off his feet and his ears. I don't know, it sounds pretty gruesome to me. Sometimes I felt like there was anger directed at me, but then he'd get behind the wheel, reassure me I hadn't done anything wrong, and be his normal, happy self on the road yet again. The simple truth is, I don't know which Aldo is real. I guess both kind of are."

Always one to keep decidedly mixed company, Aldo clearly valued his ability to mingle and circulate with some modicum of credibly in a wide variety of often contradictory social circles, ranging from the Drag Queens' dive bar in Albuquerque's so-called "war zone" on East Central Avenue, to the tabernacles of nuclear fusion at Sandia National Laboratory, just a few miles South, normally kept "behind the fence".

Aldo's recent disappearance led to rampant speculation as to his whereabouts and activities amongst the millions of avid Aldo watchers worldwide. "I'm a total story whore" -- he was fond of telling his internet hookups and his colleagues in journalism alike -- "I'll do anything for a good story."

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No backstory this time.

Just pics. Fuzzy, but point isn't to shoot 'em, it's to make 'em. Besides which -- the paper will last longer.

This is my latest miniature project. Didn't get lazy, just didn't have too long to spend. Simple: a greeting card from an 85 year-old scanned family photograph with a matching envelope.

Kinda ungainly too, with the downright elephantine card measuring in at a whopping 18x28mm. I think the USPS requires extra postage for anything bigger than 17x27mm. ;^) ;^)

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    blank blank

Hello, world. THE SEQUEL.

A.K.A. "Is this thing on?". Yes, one of those posts I'd never read myself past the first line if it had the poor fortune to show up in my freinds list. Ahhem....

So, yes! I *have* been away for a bit of a while. Gathering fodder for the novel, naturally, which means there's no need to clutter up any of my blogs with *any* of it. Apologies to all whom I've fallen out of LJ touch with while life went on and happened, but there you have it. I have survived to tell the tale, and that's quite good enough for me.

I have, meanwhile, acquired a hobby wholly suitable for posting about in LJ, just so long as I don't tip my hand *too* clearly as to what I am *going* to do with it.

Two words: Miniature Bookbinding.

Yep. Rough times hit, and what do I do? Revert to teaching myself a 5000-year-old handicraft, of course! So there.

Long ago I promised a review of "X", but failed to deliver it in anything approaching a timely fashion. (First off: I'm *not* a critic; second: how *any* critic *can* effectively write of anthologies is infinitely far beyond the limited scope of my comprehension, proving with ultimate finality that critics *are* superior to the writers whose works they unerringly judge.) For this unpardonable delay, I *would* apologise, but radio men *never* apologise. So there.

I think I can say nothing either kinder nor more true of "X" at this point than that I would *love* to rebind just one single copy as it *deserves* to be bound. Of course the cover art must stay, but also leather needs must be involved. I'm not quite there yet, so, o course, that project might take several years to get around to, but there you have it. That's my timeline and I'm sticking to it.

Bookbinding isn't a fast process. It *is* ridiculously cheap, at least in terms of raw materials. Equipment is less cheap, but many tools can be made for nothing or next to nothing from things you really do having lying 'round your house. But labour? Oy vey. Bookbinding is *extremely* labour intensive. Very exacting, and very time consuming. (Also very calming and fulfilling.) My first successful miniature definitely cost far lest than 50 cents worth of materials and *maybe* five or ten bucks in equipment. But if I were paid to bind books what I'm paid to ship 'em, THIS would be a $160 book:

Yes, that is an Oxberry ruler marked in inches, and yes, the book's a just bit on the small side. The finished covers measure 39mm by 41mm. It comprises a single hand-sewn signature of eight white leaves hardbound inside black paper-wrapped boards, with overlaid cutout red paper title on front cover and hand-inked title on overlaid red paper on spine with matching red endpapers. Yep, folks -- the simplest harcover binding I could work up, start to finish, before moving on.Collapse )Would go on but can honestly think of no more profoundly wasteful or frustrating way of sharing and preserving information than posting to livejournal. :^| Seriously -- in the time it's taken me to figure out how to caption the above pictures without having my captions repeatedly shift around or flat-out disappear, I could have made a book. And in the time it's taken me to whine about it, I could have written something both substatial and worth reading. This probably all makes me look like a horrible person, but who cares. At least I can bind books. Nyaah. ;p

Next time I've got time to burn timing my keystrokes to an overheating laptop or ill-designed operating system: the Van de Graaf Canon of Page Construction and THE GOLDEN RECTANGLE at 1cm across, soft-bound in a spine measuring 2mm deep. Tune in! It should be live online sometime in the next twenty years. The book itself is already long done. ;^) ;^)
Aww heck, here's a sneak preview of "Golden Rectangle" -- since I never know when I may post in here again:

Front cover, showing Golden Rectangle Construction.

Rear cover, showing Golden Rectangles Nested. Just remember "the square root of five divided by two is to one-half" and you won't go terribly wrong.

Yeah they're fuzzy but my stoopid blueberry doesn't have a macro. Stupid bad technology. Give me ink and paper *any* day. I'm serious.

And now, for shits and giggles only, pure and simple:

Yep. A quick and dirty last minute production. Plain brown wrappers all the way. Not miniature. Just a portfolio type binding for some papers to be hand-delivered from a freind to a freind. This monstrosity *intended* for destruction came into being just last night and frankly isn't meant to survive, but just to protect the contents in transit. Go figure...

Will work my way up to leather bindings this year. So help me. Am struggling on sunk cords in sawn signature edges at the moment, but might be working too small with the wrong tools.
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    contemplative pressed, bound, & loving it
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What a week.

Went straight-up incommunicado for about four days there. Suffice to say it's been a hell of a week. My own doing, mostly. Sorry to shajoni , especially -- I was really looking forward to seeing her off. But alas, it could not be. Just trying to pull myself together and deal with multiple crises coming fast to a head. Hopefully I'll get to where I can pick up the phone in the coming few days. Stranger things have happened.

Be well,


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    stressed stressed


Score -- FTW!

It ain't furry, but I can't bring myself *not* to share it. Yeah, it's just a single page, but -- here's the obverse recto:

and here's the reverse verso:

I don't know for sure, but I believe it *may* be a single page from Jacobus Locher's 1497 translation into Latin (Stultifera Navis) of Sebastian Brant's Das Narrenschiff, or "Ship of Fools". Yep -- the world's first international bestseller, illustrated partly by Albrecht Dürer in what was his first commission, as an artist.

If I *am* right in determining what this is, it's a page from one of the most important books ever written -- when manuscript culture was changing to print culture -- when works were translated into Latin before being translated into other vernacular languages. Absolutely *pivotal*.

It's a fascinating piece. Lots of unusual letterforms -- the ligatures and "f"-shaped "s"s are only the tip of the iceberg.

So, yyyeah! Rent comes due tomorrow, and I've got no more money to my name than will allow me to pay rent -- so what do I do with my paycheck? What else! I buy a single 500-year-old piece of paper, don't look back, and say that I've got no regrets.

:) :)

Be well,

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    excited excited

Requiscat in Pace...

...Walter Leland Cronkite, MCMXVI-MMIX.

The first newsman to ever be called "anchor".

Another of Ed Murrow's boys, gone.

And that's the way it is.

# 30 #

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    sad sad

BB posting again.

Weird but powerful day. Motel fire 1 block away knocked out power to 40 businesses on Central including the bookstore. Met more small business owners. Lights came back, "Wrapped Reichstag" book sold, bringing in $300. Am going to the club later for Pride but waiting now on local furs and others to show; haven't seen in a while. This place where I'm sitting is incredibly obnoxious;don't understand how anyone can think of this environment as appealing. But it's been too long to flake out.
Aldo outside Booth

Pride weekend...

...dead ahead -- hard to Starboard, full reverse.

How many days has it been since I've stopped moving, now!? Made a new freind last night. One of those nine-hour conversation type of deals. We *anchored* the bitches' corner at the club. People were *listening* to us, until it just got *so* busy we had to go elsewhere to talk. Wish I'd had a recorder, but some things are better left etched into a furson's memory. Took him home, came directly to the station, did the news and the weather and now going to try and find my glasses before heading home for a much needed shower (I smell like a musty old bookshop) before going to work in the store. Wheeeee!!!!!
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    energetic bonkers


I have job where I'm, not only allowed, but actively encouraged to have a *handful* of secrets. I believe they're called "trade secrets", under current US law.

Here's the photographic backdrop I created for photographing the four-volume book in question, in the store's back office:

Special thanks go out to Christo and Jeanne-Claude for inspiring me to wrap the shipping desk in used matte board.

Needless to say, the book obtained today, and being photographed today, was rather unusually large. Four volumes worth of large, in fact, any single volume of which, alone, would be considered extra-large.

Since it's been recently declassified by the US Department of Defense, I have no worries about photographing it, or listing it, or buying it, or selling it.

But by buying it we *did* do what we could to help a woman in tears get her dog the surgery he needed to survive.

There's a backstory there, too, but I'm not sharing it openly, because -- you know -- "trade secrets".

Come to think of it, I kinda *like* this whole "permissible secrecy" thing. I could get used to it, in time, and in limited circumstances.

I'd tell you that once again I touched history itself, but then, that might be compromising secrets.

Be well,


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    touched xecretive