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Angela Cook <firstname.lastname@example.org> February 22, 2013 9:33pm To: email@example.com *custom illustration
I was perusing your website, and really like the illustrations of the professional and keen hand of the House personnel. I have been toying with an idea to make a doll for my personal repertoire, at the very least. It is of my late dog, a pharaoh hound, that only liked to do the doo on things that tickled her butt. Seriously, petunia's, tall blades of grass, flimsy greens that would be buried under the weight of her poop, anything that needed potential nourishment. I am thinking it is because she is a smart dog, and very ecologically minded, first and foremost.
Recently, I have tried to explain this idea to a local illustrator. I don't think it has properly captured her motivation. However, I just came across this : http://news.yahoo.com/video/artist-bad-dog-sculpture-makes-233819885.html , and an artist is totally doing a dog doing the dog doo thing, as big as the side of the building it is dooing it on!
Wondering, if "you" would like to work with me, on making an awesome memory of my dog Honie Hound, doing the doo, on things that tickle her butt.
I am screen print capable, and working the spoonflower angle, and sew / manufacture. The timeliness, is my *Kaizen kickstarter, aiming to launch mid March (maybe later). It will be positioned as art, and buoyed by the recent discovery of the artist dog sculpture in its natural form (see link), I really want to pursue having this available for the launch of Kaizen product line.
* Kaizen is 1% better every day. It is familiarly used in business and manufacturing. I have liberated it's essence as "caring to care" and illustrate this as the simple, yet original, x and o, with reuse and recycle marks around it.
The product line includes woven fine denier ribbon of the xo artwork as embellishment on bags, totes, slingpacks, reusable shop valet, the dog collars and leashes, monogrammed tees, scarves, pleather wristlets, linen pillows, napkins, and aprons. Need a doo doll!
Talk soon ~ I hope,
Angela Cook <firstname.lastname@example.org> March 29, 2013 11:55am To: email@example.com *hey
Will you endorse my product with your money?
here > http://www.gofundme.com/jumpstartkaizen
Personally, I think all your employees would proffer from such a bag.
Angela Cook <firstname.lastname@example.org> May 22, 2013 1032pm To: email@example.com *Drago
I've been working on a job site near the Shaker Village on Sabbath Lake. During lunch at a picnic table, I noticed a bug that I couldn't identify. It had big, bulgy eyes like a dragon fly or praying mantis, and a beetle body like a potato bug ending in a point, 6 legs, and stunted nibs for wings? I asked the person I was working with if he knew what it was. He didn't. I let it crawl on the palm of my work glove, and it turned to face me. I turned my palm away, and it squared me commensurately. I pondered that this young-bug was aware to have a survival instinct, being neither aggressive nor ambivalent, and perhaps equally curious as myself with this new equation.
Because we were getting down to the business of eating, I thought the best place for this insect was in-between the slats of the table, and I let it crawl off there. The next day, eating lunch at the picnic table, I noticed the insect. I said to Paul, "Remember the insect from yesterday?! It's grown another head on its … Seriously! I can't figure it out."
Paul took a look, and we discovered the bug shed its skin, erupting out of the middle of its former self, which still clung tightly to the picnic bench while the new bug bobbed sporadically outside of it. We marveled at this act of nature shedding its skin with the self-made act of rebirth. I asked Paul to take a picture of this 2-headed bug. Then the bug turned over and piggy-backed on it's former self.
We were still trying to figure out what it was. It looked like a dragon fly with the big eyes and now elongated tube of a body, but it didn't have wings, just chitinous nibs jutting out like armament on the thorax of its body. Then, it happened. The nibs were growing.
I wasn't certain at first. I had to check myself to remember if I saw these milky green buds previously. In the span of 4 minutes, as we continued our conversation and monitoring the insect to see if we were really seeing what we were seeing, we were soon convinced the wings were growing before our eyes. Eventually we were amazed to see the birth of a dragonfly, with the full length of its wings now longer than its elongated body.
As the dragonfly stayed in situ, its wings dried to a transparent fine web with a tiny Mucha yellow fleck. I marveled that this act of nature was more amazing and noteworthy than, say, the industry of our airplane. Everything the dragonfly needed to transform and give flight was knowingly and self-sufficiently incorporated, from the finest practicality of constituents for flexibility of the wings to emerge, to then dry as a stiff and transparent shellac, to give birth primordial wings.
Do you care to volley?
Angela Cook <firstname.lastname@example.org> May 24, 2013 12:17pm To: email@example.com *Potential Geode Status
I met a guy in a band, or he met me. I didn't know he was in the band, as I was taking tickets at a venue, and he was slapping his leg energetically as he walked by. His energy was contagious, so I mimicked with an enthusiastic smile. Fast forward the evening, and he is in my apartment. I don't know much about guys in a band, however the little I do know is that they have an optional female at every port of call and I told him so. There is a little discomfort elicited from him for me saying it. I ask him if he has a girlfriend. He says that he does, which takes the fizz out of the intended make for the evening.
It doesn't stop us from canoodling on the couch. He inhales the scent of my hair deeply when I come close to him. I know he feels the same way about me as I do him and this moment, that this experience will probably only be this moment, to savor.
I didn't sleep with him, however being in his arms affected me deeply. It was profoundly heaven. Would it have been the same if I knew him better, and burst the illusion? I don't think I would draw on the memory to redeem sweetly.
My brother is a world traveller and trekker. I have not hiked with him because of his elite ability. I would hold him back, he is that skilled. We did have an opportunity to amble in the canyon lands of Utah at a family gathering. He wanted to go off trail to find ancient Indian relics. I found a round rock between the size of a golf ball and a racquet ball. It is completely round with a dimple which allows it to sit on my table and not roll off. It feels heavy in the palm. It may have a geode inside, however, I would have to crack open my round rock to find out.
The rock is a bit of a mystery to me. I change it's location on a shelf or table, inside a plant pot, and handle it, palm to palm, recalling the red clay dirt of Utah that comes out of its lunar like surface. It means more to me in its state of curiosity as I reflect upon it.
On the back burner is an idea using discharge ink on linen to make napkins. I am using a line drawing of Firestarter, the guy in the band, referenced by pictures on his website. The Firestarter Brand napkin will have a face of a guy repeated in various guises. I think it will be very funny to spoof reaching for a napkin (with a myriad of guys faces on it), wiping your face on it, soiling it, and tossing it over your shoulder and reaching for another…
Have I been relegated to Potential Geode Status?
Angela Cook <firstname.lastname@example.org> May 26, 2013 1039pm To: email@example.com *Jump
Using Ptolemaic math, your soul number is 7 and you have the sensitivity of a woman and you are a mental-oriented loner on the inside, your personality number is 4 and you are a perfectionist with a plan, and your power name number is a double 2, which means you seek peace, love and are intuitive and throw a tantrum when you don't get what you want.
I was cavalier when I candidly told you about Firestarter, but didn't reveal what is most essentially candid. When he kissed me he said my lips were trembling. But enough about me, and more about you.
One of my pastimes is observing patterns from a scientific point of reference for metaphysics. Once, actually more than once, I wanted to make x amount of money in x amount of time. When I lived in Reno, Nevada, whenever I made this formal intention with myself, this guy would show up. I first met him when I was working on the display window of a tanning salon. He was gesturing to communicate to me thru the glass, from his pickup. I told the woman behind the counter that he wanted to talk to her. She went outside and then he told her that he wanted to talk to me. Inward sigh.
I walked to the side of the pickup and he tells me while he is shaking his big head of hair in the cab, that he is the drummer for White Snake. I ask if that is his fancy hairstylist. He seems obtuse to my drift. He says that he is a high roller at a local casino, blah blah, and wouldn't I like to go along. Actually, I do want to see how this is done, and convey that I will call him after work to meet him.
He follows me home and is on my doorstep. I didn't know this until I opened my door. He wants me to wear a dress. I put on a baby doll. He doesn't like that dress.
At the casino, he tells me that he is counting cards. I want to know about counting cards as it seems like a legit use of mental capacity, and besides, he is making more money in one hour than I make in a month of overtime. He dialogues, in-between tables, his studies. At the table, he pulls out a worn "jump" card which looks fretted over as he imbues it with the anxiety of not knowing what to do, fingers fumbling the bent and worn corners, which beginners apparently carry in order to consult to know how to place their bet. His buddy is flirting with a waitress as he orders drinks, and standing behind the table and can see the cards of the other players. White Snake will flash his cards at the other players, acting like a beginner that doesn't know what to do, and is nonchalantly eliciting communal favor. They show him their cards back.
At the table, I asked him a question to clarify a point about counting cards. He acts as if he didn't hear me so I state it louder, "So, When You Are Counting Cards …" This really throws a wrench in the flow of his omniscient state of abundance, which I now know was induced by snorting cocaine, but didn't know what the white powder was at the time, only that his energy changed when he snorted it, and it was as if he owned the world.
The uncanniness of wanting to make x amount of money and him showing up was too synchronous to not notice. I'd be riding my bike on the street and there he was. He taught me to put parameters on my intentions, after x amount of experience, discovering that I am at odds with being useless (one of the all-purpose activities I got paid for), thankfully bringing a book (Ayn Rand, yes I had an A.R. phase all the way thru Objectivist Epistemology) as he paid for a hooker with smeared jezebel lipstick to pretend to watch tv, and then simulated with amazing speed her state of undress, and who knows what else he had in mind (as he couldn't get it up), she introduced herself to me by sitting next to me and stroking my hair over my breast and saying she has hair like me, and I say "I think not," and go back to reading my book, noting it may be more effective to not start with her jezebel lipstick smeared and bleary eyed…