Marie Javins's Blog, page 58

Interior Design

I'm trying to figure out how and where to hang all my souvenirs here in Burbank. I'm all out of room in JC.

It's harder than it looks!

Professional Fakery

I can't remember if I showed these already. Back in September, I mocked up some fake color guides, supposedly from the early to mid 1980s.

My Dr. Ph. Martin's transparent dyes were in Jersey City (I have them now), so Rob L, who lives on the West Side, had to stop by Steve B's house after work and borrowed his dyes for me. Many were dried out, but there was enough liquid to mix what I needed.

I made do without Finch paper, but in the later years of guides, we'd started using crappy paper anyway, so I was kind of used to it.

I didn't have the tray for mixing colors, so I emptied out little creamer packets from the office kitchen and used those. Rob Clark had an unused Winsor & Newton brush, and we were off to the races.

I can't remember the last time I enjoyed going to work quite this much.

A Novel Approach

Here's a visual aid I made for a little class I taught at work today.

It's part of my quest to get people to accept that these two modes are tools that work together to make a nice printed comic book. You'd be surprised how many people have nearly gone into fisticuffs over CMYK vs. RGB.

Or maybe you wouldn't, if you work in comics.

Extinct

Bedrock City has left the building after 50 years of quirky desolation along the other road to the Grand Canyon. I went here with the Other Marie back in the near Stone Age, shortly after we both moved to Jersey City. We went on a horse trip in the Grand Tetons, and rented a car to drive around the west. I don't know what year that was. 1991? 1990?

The next trip was with Michael aka Turbo the Aussie, with Henry the 1990 Ford Taurus in spring of 2002. Finally, BBF Jim and I went there just a few years ago.

Now it's just me left out of all of those match-ups.

Actually, that's a pretty bleak way of looking at it. The Two Maries are eternal!

Yabba dabba do.

Winter Chill

All the news about the cold front in the Northeast reminded me of how I used to have an old Volvo with a manual choke.

Two old Volvos with manual chokes, actually. Not at the same time.

The thing about a manual choke and brutal cold is your car then has a contest on every start-up. That contest is between your car's battery and your car's carburetor. You hope to get the air/fuel mixture right with the knob that controls the choke before the battery gets tired of trying to start the car.

This is easy in summer, really hard when it's below freezing.

I used to get around running the battery down every time by spraying a little starter fluid into the carburetor. But one spray too many and then there would be a puddle of fuel waiting for the spark. Boom, you have a fire.

I frequently had fires in my carburetor.

That is why I kept an old quilt in the car, for putting out fires in the carburetor. It looked way more dramatic than it actually was, and I remember going to fetch my car once from the impound yard on the Hudson after having parked illegally in Manhattan. There was no sign, not my fault.

I went to get my car from the West Side impound yard, and it wouldn't start, so I sprayed the carburetor. This led to a fire and a lot of freaked-out people.

"Get away from the car!"

I stood back.

One of the city employees ran over with a fire extinguisher. He sprayed my car.

But the fire extinguisher was expired. Only a puff came out of it.

I walked to the trunk, got the quilt, walked to the front of the car, put the fire out, put the quilt back in the trunk, closed the trunk and the hood, got in, and drove the Volvo away.

In the rear-view mirror, I could see the two men standing there, stunned.

Good times.

A Spot of Green

My balcony garden is ready for sun and rain and hummingbirds. I even made a mini-rain barrel.

Growing: Succulents that lived on this balcony before I arrived, as well as parsley, basil, rosemary, thyme, radishes, and peas.

And, yes, the giant indoor plant is still with us. It's back inside ever since the elements reduced it to a more manageable size.

Burbank Morning

Heckuva sky this morning.

Happy Australia Day

I made ANZAC biscuits in honor of Australia Day.

They are supposed to be made for ANZAC Day, but I’m a clueless American, so I always screw that up. I had a charming couple of years (2002-2003) living alongside an Australian. Part of me wishes I still did, but obviously I've had a wealth of experiences I never would have had if I'd stuck it out Down Under.

Peter Platypus and I took our biccies to work and foisted them upon my confused colleagues, many of which are now fans of ANZAC biscuits.

Art in the Hollywood Hills

I went on an Atlas Obscura excursion tonight to a marvelous private sculpture garden in the Hollywood Hills.

You can't just wander up and walk through the garden—you have to keep an eye on their website and find a time to attend an event.

But you can go up Beachwood Drive and into the winding hills to these coordinates, where you can look at the back yard from the public street.

34.113885, -118.323463

Exec Ed

Hey you guys! I got promoted at work. Now, instead of being a bossy mole-whacker, I'm an executive bossy mole-whacker. Who woulda thought when I agreed to be a temp for a few months back in 2014, I'd end up in California with the word "Executive" attached to my title.

One day I'm gonna be the best mole-whacker in the business.

I'll let you know what it is I'm doing now as soon as I figure it out.