Off to shimmy my shine. 

BEDS

Off to wazzle my weezle. Thankyouverymuch!

Driving home in rush hour traffic, waiting for a flight on a long layover, doing the dishes, changing a diaper in the middle of the night, washing clothes, flossing teeth, waking up to an alarm clock every morning, taking out the trash, cleaning out the refrigerator, paying bills, buying milk, and deleting spam from an inbox. How can we face these monotonous tasks with more ease and clarity? How can we view them as unique experiences rather than moments that are played on repeat every day of our lives?

Process Mundane is a 90 minute workshop designed to help those who face daily drudgery take a look at their drudge more microscopically. Gleaning inspiration from "self help" evangelism, corporate board meetings, Allan Kaprow, and Alan Watts, Process Mundane takes a deeper look into the roots of monotonous tasks, evaluates each task, and offers viewers alternative ways of performing each task. The end goal for Process Mundane is to give a sense of play and creativity to the particularly lackluster moments most people tend to forget about.

Here is a breakdown of the workshop:

Welcome - participants will take a seat then be asked to sit in their chairs in a way they've never sat in a chair before. They will be asked to shake the hand of someone next to them, then give them a high five, then (if they like) sniff them. These exercises are designed to appease feelings associated with meeting and being a stranger, being somewhere you might not want to be, and also to improve circulation in the hands, arms, legs, and feet.

Introduction - I will introduce myself as artist, worker, woman, mother, and mammal. I'll briefly discuss the meaning of each of my titles using accompanying visual representations.

Participants will be asked to anonymously write their own titles onto paper then place them into a box at the head of the room. I'll read aloud from the pieces of paper and ask guests to interpret the titles based on their own associations.

For the remainder of the workshop, I'll evaluate some of the more monotonous tasks people are burdened with and present options to make tasks more appealing, creative, energetic, and present.

As an added bonus, I'll be wearing a power suit. 

Arrived in Maui and immediately stripped off my clothes for some much-needed sun on skin time.

Rented a grandfather car and drove to a little plot of land owned by the artist Tom Sewell just 2 miles outside of Haiku. 

Somewhat inspired to cook again (after 10 months), shopped in one of the more impressive coops I've seen. In front of which hippies and toned and tanned surf mammals wiggled their heads to the local harpist. 

On one of my runs (up a mountain and back down a mountain) found a giant avocado on the ground. Used part of it in a mango, sesame, seaweed salad that very night. 

Took pictures of the backsides of random strangers. On beaches, at cafes, overlooking la mer, ogling the underbelly of a stingray.

Read and slept and slept and read. 

Watched as my mister dipped our baby Beckett's feet in the ocean for the very first time.

Hiked through a bamboo forest to a waterfall spitting out of an old volcano. 

Perused ephemera in a Japanese grocery store on a mostly abandoned part of the island. 

Waved hello to happy looking cows as they grazed on verdant fields overlooking a dramatic swoosh of rock and ocean.

Ate three mostly yumsome Hawaiian plates involving too much pork, which I generally don't consume, and probably will continue not to based on my love for swine in its live form. 

Listened to local old-fashioned style Hawaiian radio tunes. 

Watched mamma whales and their calves spout and burst from the Pacific.

Snorkeled inside winded waves with giant angelfish and one lonely sea cucumber. 

Dug my toes in the sand with miss Beckett. 

Driving on 9 - The Breeders 

The Jesus and Mary Chain - Darklands

Slowdive - Crazy for you

Mojave 3 - Love songs on the radio

Haruka Nakamura - The Scenery Which Has Music 

Daniel Johnston - Some things last a long time

The National - Afraid of Everyone 

PHOTO RELATIONAL

BEDS

déraciné - uprooted or displaced from one's geographical or social environment.

tuataras - a nocturnal burrowing lizardlike reptile with a crest of soft spines along its back, now confined to some small islands off New Zealand.

kilderkin - a cask for liquids or other substances, holding 16 or 18 gallons.

microfarad - one millionth of a farad. Symbol μ F.

huckaback - a strong linen or cotton fabric with a rough surface, used for toweling.

oliguria - the production of abnormally small amounts of urine. 

Be more present 

Sleep outdoors under stars (weather permitting)

Finish my average day musical

Invite more strangers over for dinner

Do another two renditions of Back Up - one with baby Beckett and one as garden laborer 

Turn my unpaired socks into creatures 

Get back into releasing objects for SRS 

Organize the dumping ground that is my closet

Grow watermelons

Make the most delicious Vietnamese Pho broth

Eat 80 percent vegetable and 20 percent animal 

Record an album of soothing and playful tunes for kids and adults

Write and perform a power point presentation akin to a cross between a Tony Robbin's seminar and a corporate board meeting

Stop procrastinating and submit, submit, submit my novel to editors 

Do three consecutive pull-ups on a doug fir tree branch

Get up with the sun 

Tailor something in red to be worn somewhere fancy

1999 - took the ferry from Galway, Ireland to the Aran Islands (Inishman). Walked around all day in the frigid rain, felt myself coming down with something bad, spent a couple of hours in a pub watching a father and son duo sing U2's With or Without You seventeen times.

2000 - Y2k. To avoid feeling paranoia, I swallowed a half of a hit of ecstasy and had tremendous fun ogling beautiful people at a party on the lower east side. 

2001 - I spent the night waitressing at a once famous little spot called Relish in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. A generous and horny photographer tipped me 100.00. I believe I made 500.00 that night and used the cash to pay for text books.

2002 - Same as above, minus the abundant cash earnings. 

2003 - Red Hook. Met a group of friends, got drunk and I believe invited a homeless man in for a sandwich (that didn't go over so well).

2004 - Same as above. More or less - without the homeless man. 

2005 - Stayed at home in Park Slope. Cooked tarragon chicken and drank a bottle of wine. 

2006 - First year in Portland. Walked around the upper NE parts. Roasted a hen. Danced to a blind man band at The Spare Room. 

2007 - Second year in Portland. Had some friends over for green curry. Dove head-first into a bush. 

2008 - Danang, Vietnam. Ate some Chinese/Vietnamese food at a spot I used to frequent. Had a major fight with my then boyfriend.  

2009 - I can't remember.   

2010 - I can't remember.

2011 - Portland. Fed miss Beckett some boobage until she drifted off into slumber land. My man and I cooked smashed potatoes and chicken with fennel and white wine. Wrote a couple of sentences. Read a few more. Watched an episode of Breaking Bad and was again marveled by the fantastic writing and acting. Went to bed at 10:30 and woke at 12 to fireworks and a hungry little mammal.