Politically correct? No. Without violence? No.
I read that the main character in today's series is a spoof of Dirty Harry. I wouldn't know as I have never watched Dirty Harry and won't, but it might give you an idea already of what is to come.
One trigger-happy cop who talks to his gun and his partner, a kind, intelligent, sensitive and beautiful woman who is trying hard to keep him within the boundaries of legality, and who is good at getting the bad guys with a karate kick (one could slightly be reminded of Emma Peel if the outfits weren't so incredibly 80s) ... there you go, a hilarious police parody series.
I know that some people think the show hasn't aged well, I have to admit I had to get back into it again at first. I'm not sure if the kids of today would understand it, with all the little hints at movies and TV series of that time for example. It's not as I get all of them myself, but I'm working on it.
Sledge Hammer (after watching his partner Dori Doreau high kicking a guy to the ground): Doreau, that was excessively violent and completely unnecessary. I loved it, it was poetry in motion.
When Doreau asks who that guy is he tells her it's one of his friends and that they should get out before he wakes up ;-)
I love how Sledge's blue eyes light up like those of a kid on Christmas morning in moments like these ...
Sledge Hammer!, USA, 1986 - 1988
6/30/2013
6/29/2013
Saturday night ramblings
A bead is a bead is a bead, and a bed is a bed is a bed.
So when has my brain become so onesided that it can only think of beads?
(This happened to be the first picture of beads I found in my files ;-))
I'm going to bead ... erm, bed now.
So when has my brain become so onesided that it can only think of beads?
(This happened to be the first picture of beads I found in my files ;-))
I'm going to bead ... erm, bed now.
6/28/2013
By the way, did you know ...
... what a protome is? A protome is "a decorative element, on ancient artefacts, based on the head of an animal or bust of a person".
Uh-huh. I can almost hear you asking why the heck I am telling you that. To show off with my amazing knowledge? Not at all. For me it was also the first time that I read this word.
Let me begin with my grandmother. I don't want to tell you stories about her (although I do have a bunch of good ones), but for my birthday my mother gave me a piece of jewelry that had belonged to her which makes it very special to me.
When my grandmother died many years ago, I also got a piece of jewelry that used to be her sister's and before that her sister's husband's first wife.
I had loved this bracelet as long as I can think back. I remember that when I was still a child, I believed they were dragon's heads, but it didn't hurt to find out they were indeed lions. That's where the protomes come in. Regarding its history the bracelet dates back to the 30s approximately. That's not ancient, but it's definitely vintage, and the lion heads are very obviously protomes. I found that out when I googled in the attempt to maybe find out even more (which I didn't, by the way).
Now you and I learned something new. The next time you go to a museum, impress the persons who are with you by saying "Oh, look at that door/cauldron/necklace/vessel/ring with the protomes on it." And if they call you a show-off, just smile smugly ;-)
Unfortunately the spring inside the bracelet is broken (who knows, maybe it was even me who broke it as a kid?), and I'm told it can't be repaired (I suspect the piece isn't expensive enough to do so). It doesn't matter, I just love looking at it.
And here's a picture of it now.
If you think I'm trying to distract from not working on new pieces myself, you are not right. I finished a small loomed wall hanging for a birthday, after a long time I made a new yarn basket pendant, this time with a tiny crochet hook, and I still can't decide if I should list my very first split loom pendant or if I should keep it for myself (today I am leaning towards keeping it, but who knows what I'll say tomorrow) and get to working on the next one right away.
Obviously I can't show you the wall hanging, but I have pictures of the pendant and the necklace.
There is also a little project that was inspired by a friend of mine. I won't show you the prototype now because I want to keep working on the design some more first.
Labels:
bead looming,
bracelet,
crochet,
dragon eye,
heritage,
jewelry with a story,
protomes,
random,
silver,
split loom necklace,
wire,
yarn basket
6/23/2013
Quote of the week
This movie has everything. Fights, romance, humor ... and a sad, but lovely ending.
I know you are used to me posting funny quotes mostly, but there's no reason not to change that from time to time, is there?
For the funny quotes of this movie you need to see the scene itself because often the face, the voice or the scene itself add that certain touch.
The story in short:
A young scholar/tax collector falls in love with a ghost who is forced to lure men into the trap of her mistress, a tree demon, who took possession of her corpse when she died during travelling. To save her soul he has to take her ashes and bury them at her home.
Throw in an ex-general turned taoist hermit, more ghosts, wolves and some very strange townspeople, and you have an amazing story.
My quote is the poem that Ning Choi-San, the scholar, and Nip Siu-Sin, the ghost, write on the painting of Siu-Sin that her father had made, and that she gives to Ning Choi-San after they spent a night together.
As my DVD only has the German and Cantonese sound, I had to look around, and this is what I found on the blog of Jeffinous (who by the way not only explains this poem, but also adds the 1960 version and a version of his own worth reading, so have a look).
Ten miles, a calm lake and snow flurries fill the sky.
Every inch of her locks forlorn for his youth.
In loneliness, I look caringly at the moon,
Envy not those from the fairy realm but for these mandarin ducks.
A Chinese Ghost Story 1, Hongkong, 1987
I know you are used to me posting funny quotes mostly, but there's no reason not to change that from time to time, is there?
For the funny quotes of this movie you need to see the scene itself because often the face, the voice or the scene itself add that certain touch.
The story in short:
A young scholar/tax collector falls in love with a ghost who is forced to lure men into the trap of her mistress, a tree demon, who took possession of her corpse when she died during travelling. To save her soul he has to take her ashes and bury them at her home.
Throw in an ex-general turned taoist hermit, more ghosts, wolves and some very strange townspeople, and you have an amazing story.
My quote is the poem that Ning Choi-San, the scholar, and Nip Siu-Sin, the ghost, write on the painting of Siu-Sin that her father had made, and that she gives to Ning Choi-San after they spent a night together.
As my DVD only has the German and Cantonese sound, I had to look around, and this is what I found on the blog of Jeffinous (who by the way not only explains this poem, but also adds the 1960 version and a version of his own worth reading, so have a look).
Ten miles, a calm lake and snow flurries fill the sky.
Every inch of her locks forlorn for his youth.
In loneliness, I look caringly at the moon,
Envy not those from the fairy realm but for these mandarin ducks.
A Chinese Ghost Story 1, Hongkong, 1987
6/16/2013
Quote of the week
I have been asked when the quotes of the week will be back, and obliging as I am ... ok, I am sitting here waiting to let my cats out of their horrible prisons (can you hear Ponder wailing?), hoping the electrician will have finished soon (encountering unpredicted difficulties, poor man) and re-weaving. I thought it would be nice to listen to a movie while doing that and picked a movie made after a book that I love very much and that makes me laugh out loud. I actually have tears in my eyes from watching how they ... no, I might use that in a future post.
So, the book is "Three men in a boat" by Jerome K. Jerome, the movie is - who would have guessed - "Three men in a boat". For those who didn't get it yet, I'll repeat the title at the end of the post, as always with a link to the IMDB.
Three men want to go for a boat ride on the Thames, Jerome, Harris and George ... and of course there's Montmorency, the dog.
The adventure starts with the train, however. I have vast train experiences as you might remember, so this is the scene I picked.
Jerome: The 11:05 for Kingston?
1st porter: 11:05 for Kingston? Number 2, sir.
2nd porter: Number 2? That's the Windsor Loop. You want Number 1, sir.
1st porter: Number 1 is the Reigate Stopping, so I hear.
Jerome (asking the traffic supervisor): The 11:05 for Kingston?
Traffic supervisor: Oh, yes, indeed. Well, I was just talking to a man who said he'd seen it on Number 3. He was almost positive about that. Otherwise, there's a body of opinion which leans toward the eye-level platform for the Kingston train. Though, in my opinion, sir, that is the Southampton Express.
2nd porter: They don't know, sir. You follow me.
Jerome: Thank you. Monty, come along.
Jerome (at the train): I'm sorry to trouble you. But are you the 11 *steam hissing*... the 11:05 for Kingston?
Train driver: Couldn't rightly say. I might be and then again I might not be. If I'm not, I'm the 9:32 for Virginia Water, or the Guilford local.
Jerome (handing the train driver some money in an inconspicuous way): Could you please be the 11:05 for Kingston?
Train driver: Well, some train's got to go to Kingston, innit? Thank you very kindly, sir. 11:05 to Kingston it is.
Jerome: Thank you very much. (goes to meet Harris)
Harris: This is the Exeter Mail, apparently.
Jerome: Well, it might be. Then again, it might not.
Jerome (as narrator): And so the railway system which has made England the envy of the world brought us to Kingston.
Half of the fun for me is Tim Curry playing Jerome and narrating, by the way.
Three Men in a Boat, United Kingdom, 1975 (TV movie)
So, the book is "Three men in a boat" by Jerome K. Jerome, the movie is - who would have guessed - "Three men in a boat". For those who didn't get it yet, I'll repeat the title at the end of the post, as always with a link to the IMDB.
Three men want to go for a boat ride on the Thames, Jerome, Harris and George ... and of course there's Montmorency, the dog.
The adventure starts with the train, however. I have vast train experiences as you might remember, so this is the scene I picked.
Jerome: The 11:05 for Kingston?
1st porter: 11:05 for Kingston? Number 2, sir.
2nd porter: Number 2? That's the Windsor Loop. You want Number 1, sir.
1st porter: Number 1 is the Reigate Stopping, so I hear.
Jerome (asking the traffic supervisor): The 11:05 for Kingston?
Traffic supervisor: Oh, yes, indeed. Well, I was just talking to a man who said he'd seen it on Number 3. He was almost positive about that. Otherwise, there's a body of opinion which leans toward the eye-level platform for the Kingston train. Though, in my opinion, sir, that is the Southampton Express.
2nd porter: They don't know, sir. You follow me.
Jerome: Thank you. Monty, come along.
Jerome (at the train): I'm sorry to trouble you. But are you the 11 *steam hissing*... the 11:05 for Kingston?
Train driver: Couldn't rightly say. I might be and then again I might not be. If I'm not, I'm the 9:32 for Virginia Water, or the Guilford local.
Jerome (handing the train driver some money in an inconspicuous way): Could you please be the 11:05 for Kingston?
Train driver: Well, some train's got to go to Kingston, innit? Thank you very kindly, sir. 11:05 to Kingston it is.
Jerome: Thank you very much. (goes to meet Harris)
Harris: This is the Exeter Mail, apparently.
Jerome: Well, it might be. Then again, it might not.
Jerome (as narrator): And so the railway system which has made England the envy of the world brought us to Kingston.
Half of the fun for me is Tim Curry playing Jerome and narrating, by the way.
Three Men in a Boat, United Kingdom, 1975 (TV movie)
6/08/2013
Saturday night ramblings - and wax crayons
Lately I have been watching English crime series. Lewis, Inspector Morse, Campion, and some others. I watched them find clues, wonder over letters and mysterious notes, and it made me think about my own notes that I tend to leave lying around.
Let's take this one for example. What would you read into it or try to deduce from it? Ok, so you are at an advantage because you know I'm a jewelry artisan.
On the other hand the detectives wouldn't take long to find that out, too. I'm almost certain that the jewelry, the bead stash and the fact that I have a little loom, crochet hooks and pliers on a pillow in my bed (don't judge me) would give me away. Who knows, they might have to pry my trusted 1.65 mm crochet hook from my cold, dead hand.
It's pretty obvious that it's not a code for my safe, simply because I don't own one, but what is it?
Now let me show you what I did yesterday and today and tell you what inspired me.
Do you remember the pictures we used to do with wax crayons? First we used all colors we had, big spots, small spots, layers, stripes, and then we covered that with black crayon. Afterwards we scratched a picture into the black, making the colors come back out. I remember that in elementary school we did the deep ocean, with colorful plants and fish.
It would have been interesting to create and loom a panel in that kind of look, but while waiting for supplies (that haven't arrived yet) I went a different way.
I used bead soup on a black background. Just imagine I took off the black in circles. And here's where the note comes into action. It's the size of circle I decided on. Since I'm old and my brain can be weak and lose information while just moving from one room to the other, I wrote down the numbers of beads.
Count for yourself (don't forget you'd need to rotate the picture first, though).
For more color and a bit of fun I added a happy irregular bead soup and wooden beads fringe.
I'm not keen on experiencing this detective thing, by the way. It's just one of those train of thoughts my brain comes up with in the middle of the night or very early in the morning after only four hours of sleep (&/§%$§&/ those greedy cats). I'd rather prefer to stay alive and bead. Although I'd dig a visit by Sergeant Hathaway.
P.S. I know it's not exactly night, actually it's afternoon. Let's call it artistic freedom.
Let's take this one for example. What would you read into it or try to deduce from it? Ok, so you are at an advantage because you know I'm a jewelry artisan.
On the other hand the detectives wouldn't take long to find that out, too. I'm almost certain that the jewelry, the bead stash and the fact that I have a little loom, crochet hooks and pliers on a pillow in my bed (don't judge me) would give me away. Who knows, they might have to pry my trusted 1.65 mm crochet hook from my cold, dead hand.
It's pretty obvious that it's not a code for my safe, simply because I don't own one, but what is it?
Now let me show you what I did yesterday and today and tell you what inspired me.
Do you remember the pictures we used to do with wax crayons? First we used all colors we had, big spots, small spots, layers, stripes, and then we covered that with black crayon. Afterwards we scratched a picture into the black, making the colors come back out. I remember that in elementary school we did the deep ocean, with colorful plants and fish.
It would have been interesting to create and loom a panel in that kind of look, but while waiting for supplies (that haven't arrived yet) I went a different way.
I used bead soup on a black background. Just imagine I took off the black in circles. And here's where the note comes into action. It's the size of circle I decided on. Since I'm old and my brain can be weak and lose information while just moving from one room to the other, I wrote down the numbers of beads.
Count for yourself (don't forget you'd need to rotate the picture first, though).
For more color and a bit of fun I added a happy irregular bead soup and wooden beads fringe.
I'm not keen on experiencing this detective thing, by the way. It's just one of those train of thoughts my brain comes up with in the middle of the night or very early in the morning after only four hours of sleep (&/§%$§&/ those greedy cats). I'd rather prefer to stay alive and bead. Although I'd dig a visit by Sergeant Hathaway.
P.S. I know it's not exactly night, actually it's afternoon. Let's call it artistic freedom.
Labels:
bead looming,
bead soup,
color,
cuff,
detective stories,
Saturday rambling,
wax crayons
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)