Welcome to the rebellious blog of an obsessively overly perfectionistic artist, who is compelled to create and occasionally write about the proccess. Do artists really have to be crazy to create? Perhaps not, but the water is warm, so dive in and find out! RSS Feed "Be a good craftsman; it won't stop you being a genius." - Auguste Renoir 7/28/2006 Worry... and Party On song du jour: They Dyes Skies, Sven Gali mood: only a little apprehensive ;-) I just returned from taking Skyler and my mother to the airport and had one more phone conversation before their plane took off for the colonial period. In keeping with Skyler's love of circling Gran on his bike while shouting, "The British are coming! The British are coming!" they are bound for Williamsburg and Monticello to see Thomas Jefferson's cool invention, the dumb waiter, and probably acquire a 3 cornered hat in the midst of his asking my mother 5682 questions to see if she agrees with his answers. I expect by now he's already flirted with at least 2 flight attendants by complementing their hair and befriended the captain by explaining that he's traveling to Jefferson's house just the way Jefferson visited France and subsequently introduced the tomato to the new world (colonists had assumed they were poisonous), although he will undoubtedly point out that they are on a plane not a ship and ask the pilot how long it would take to sail from Atlanta to Virginia just to see if the guy is paying attention. Yes, I have spawned a young Casanova-geek. I was thinking, as I stood off to the side and watched Skyler wind his way through the first security checkpoint, that the western notion of non-attachment is not only pathological, it's just plain silly. I have certainly looked forward to this chunk of time to work non vampire hours and have more than 5 minutes without the interruption of endless questions from Mr. Inquisitive, but as usual, if I thought I was going to be footloose and fancy free, I was kidding myself. Nature has a way of reminding me of that most precious bond via a tightening around my chest at the thought of my baby being so far away. I used to think moms, who couldn't just chill away from their babies for a few hours were loopy until I went through all that I did with mine and learned better. Freedom is relative, and their is no, nor should there be, any escape. Still, I'll enjoy sleeping late a couple of mornings. Skyler at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens atop a climbable Sculpture by Nikki de St. Phalle, July, 2006 11:07 AM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 1 comments 7/21/2006 Not Just Iron Man, Iron Slut song du jour:Get Down Tonight, KC & the Sunshine Band mood: iron(ic) I finally finished Sex, Time, and Power: How Women's Sexuality Shaped Human Evolution a couple of months ago, and have moved on to the audio version for a refresher. Shlain's writing is dense with information and intense thought as well as being extremely elegant and humorous. He's the best writer of non fiction I've read in years, and I feel I will be forever reeling from his far reaching implications and conclusions. If you have any interest (or any stake) at all in the challenges of the relationship between women and men on this planet, it's a MUST read. While many other authors explain the exterior by way of the interior, Shlain is a master of dissecting our nature as humans, who walk, breathe, hunt, mate, and give birth, and the social, cultural, behavioral, and intentional implications of these miracles. Among the deep understandings I gained from his jam packed and eloquent writing, one vital detail I gleaned is that I will never again feel weird or guilty when the check comes on a date. Yes, in this weird post-post-whatever world of women making almost as much money as men and the equality in the boardroom we've fought tooth and nail to acquire, there's an unspoken expectation floating among the 'new age wimps,' as David Deida calls some men, that everything should be split down the middle. Not that I haven't been known to snatch the check every once in a while, but dividing it up or keeping careful track of whose turn it is smacks of knit picky housewives doing lunch You pay your half of the check, and I'll pay mine. You got your big O, now give me mine all equals romantic kryptonite. If such even steven interactions weren't mood killers, I wouldn't be perpetually borderline anemic. (Huh?!?) I wouldn't want to give away the whole basis of a brilliant book in one flippant blog post, but to whet your appetite, there is a massive connection in pre-menopausal women's continual loss of iron and the men, who were able to bring her a gift in the much appreciated, for thousands of years biologically necessary form of raw meat. We are biologically bound to each other in need in a wild (sometimes) divine game that keeps us reproducing. In today's world if women opt to accept such gifts in the form of soy burgers, that's fine too, although to me, even more than chocolate, nothing says "Baby, you're gorgeous!" like filet mignon. (Could you make it grass fed, preferably organic?) Just call me Iron Slut. There is, however, much more to the story than evolutionary Eve's giving it up for a hunk of fresh gazell, and more than the answer to the question, that is what makes the book so worth the read. Shlain makes the connection between early man, who felt at the whim of nature, and modern man, who seeks to gain power over it, and women, with our life giving capacity, our Kali tempers, our mysterious bodily workings, and our seemingly unfathomable emotional nuances get thrown in the mix. So too, would I add, our libidos. Naive me, I've always assumed that a woman with a healthy one is every man's fantasy, and I was discussing this idea with a girlfriend a while back, but, as she pointed out, it is often only a fantasy. The reality is such a healthy appetite in a woman is about as easy for most men to handle as a hurricane or a tsunami (new honey aside!). They will try to hang in there but ultimately run for higher ground. Hence, how I finally ended up seeing The Matrix. A guy I was seeing almost 2 years ago, parked me on his sofa with the instructions, "Watch this. (And give me a freakin' break!)" Perhaps some men worry they will wear themselves out chasing after so many gazzells, or as said girlfriend put it, they are more likely to worry their supply won't meet the demand. What I've noticed, in my own experience, is that there is a disconnect in the realization that all is contextual. In English: some don't get that it isn't a woman's hard wiring or hormones as much as the fact that said wiring is sparked or not by the possibility of a connection with and attention from a specific man, and it is not, as many goal oriented dudes mistakenly assume, about achieving a score of O's. Perhaps another reason is that men fear and/or want to determine women's sexuality is that, if a woman doesn't claim a headache most of the time, she might just be looking around soon, or worse, (gasp!) have a history that is not too boring. As Shlain points out, that is yet another motivation for patriarchy. Just as denial over global warming gives some people the illusion of knowing the future weather, women have been shut away, covered up, or kept to convention in an effort to define us as either good girl or whore, thus giving patriarchs the illusion that they can know what to expect from us. My own ponderings aside, if you would like to know if there really exists a g-spot and why it is there, if you've ever wondered what might be the evolutionary advantage of the female orgasm when such resulting languishing after mating might leave one vulnerable to being the lunch of another species, if you've ever wondered why humans developed speech, or the evolutionary necessity of women's developing an animus or men's developing an anima, then read this book. Never again will you think of our species the same or take for granted its unique gifts. 5:12 PM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 0 comments The Studio... at last song du jour:Deacon Blues, Steely Dan mood:...at last I've been promising pics of my studio for how long? I shot these the other night after the first round of taping for my upcoming instructional video. Welcome to the inside of Jeannie's bottle. The corner of creativity When it all gets to be too much ;-) Alas, it was too dark for my light catcher to show, but it's in the window (more on that one later) The business/blogging zone The alchemy zone 1:54 AM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 0 comments 7/12/2006 I Teach, Therefore I Am Toast song du jour: that sleep deprived buzzing in my ear mood: loopy The small child will be up in less than 5 hours, and I just now finished adding my fall class to the site. I are a teaching fool. 7 weekly classes and workshops here and elsewhere! The month of October I'll be teaching almost every weekend. Looks like I'd better start early making that Thomas Jefferson Halloween costume for Skyler (more on that one later). This past weekend I filled in for Nalan's 2 Sunday classes. The day I show up with pliers for bellydance and a coin sash for repousse, I shall retire permanently to my studio. There are still 2 very cool classes left this summer! Weaving with Metal and Loop in Loop Chains 5:10 AM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 1 comments 7/07/2006 DANCin' DANCin' DANCE-IN! She's a dancin' machine... song du jour: Last Kiss, Ishtar mood: sore but happy (No, Jean not from that.) This afternoon I did something wildly fulfilling that I haven't done in a VERY long time. I taught a dance class. The fabulous Nalan is out of town, so the also ultra fabulous Ofelia at Dance 101 requested that I sub for Nalan's beg/int class. Actually, truth be told, it was the first time ever that I taught a bellydance class, but I didn't let on, and no one caught on. I've rehearsed dancers for Nalan and spent a fair amount of time teaching friends, who felt behind in class, and teaching dance, whatever the genre, is like riding a bicycle, although even more truthfully, I can barely remember if I ever did shift from hauling records to the studio to the ease of tossing a few CD's in my bag. That's how long it's been. My very first job ever (beyond babysitting) was teaching adult beginning and intermediate jazz classes at the ripe old age of 17. Or was I 16? By 18 I was teaching company jazz classes and choreographing. Teaching and performing were my primary livelihood until I was 22 and blew out my hamstring, followed by a brief comeback to performing when I was 24 and over the hill by professional dance standards back then. A lifetime ago and yet just yesterday. I do love teaching metalsmithing, but teaching dance has a few added benefits about which I'd forgotten: I don't have to work out afterwards (hence being sore), and no one can obnoxiously try to interrupt and talk on top of me while I'm demonstrating. There's also the fun fact that I was done in an hour. Ok, so forget that I was working on the combination I taught until 3:45 am after searching iTunes Music Store for new inspiration (the song listed above...yum). The prep was fun, and I was pleasantly surprised at how well the dancers did the combination. I only recognized a few of them, since I normally can't take class on Thursdays. Afterwards, several of them came up and thanked me for the class. One dancer not only liked it, she asked me if I taught any other classes around town that she could attend and to tell her if I ever did. Wow. That was as I was pulling out that newfangled little round plastic thing from the magic drawer that opened when I pushed a button on the scrumptious sound system. What decade am I in? Oh, right... There will probably be more opportunities to which I'm looking forward. Nalan has been pushing me out of the nest, so to speak, for a long time, telling me I need to teach and to propose some of my ideas. I've been tossing around images (and a few steps) of what a Middle Eastern jazz style might look like. - When it's a craze in L.A., remember you heard it hear first! - Having such a strong technical background that is back and strong, I would love to merge it with my more recent passion of shimmies and undulations, particularly with a wealth of dancers well versed in one and learning another. Bellydancing is so amazing, but sometimes I do want, literally, to stretch my legs while shaking my curves. Big thanks to the Cookie Monster for taking my munchkin to dinner while I taught and bringing him back in time for me to see my 2 #1 fans watching the last part of the class. 1:27 AM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 1 comments

Subscribe to Victoria Lansford dot com for gallery updates & workshop info   New Work Undulation IV Gazing Landscape of My Dreams II Crescents & Starlight X   Instructional DVDs     Fellow Artists & Writers Nanz Aalund Dan Alison Nick Bantock Because I Said So Helen Blythe-Hart Clear Vision Studio C4Chaos Hannah Dallman Matthew Dallman Ganoksin The Ghosts Project Alex Grey Jackson Fish Market Gene McDevitt Paul Mercer Metalcyberspace Dana Jung Munson Lionessroars, Willow Pearson Polysemy   My Students' Websites Lisa Gallagher Tom Kellen Theresa St. Romain Susan Saul Lisa Winn Resources & Suppliers Gene McDevitt's Opals Invitastic Jazz 24 (always playing my studio) Jewelry Resource Supply SparkleSparkle & Firescoff They're Beautiful   Food for Thought Egyptology News Typetalk.com (MBTI info) Sage Visit crafthaus   Archives August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006   Gallery Page