A Story That Ends In Documentary

There are officially cats and dogs being pelted down upon my rooftop.

I took myself out for coffee this morning: coffee, a sketchbook marathon and an accidental-on-purpose-stop into my favorite vintage shop.

I'm about to skip into the studio, but I wanted to share with you a story and a recommendation for your weekend documentary watching needs.
* * *
Back when BC and I were in our mid- and late-20's, we reached a pivotal point in our lives.  We were working three to four jobs between the two of us, finishing college, never sleeping and hardly ever even seeing each other.  It was the good old American rat race.  We decided to save up, quit our jobs and move... somewhere.
That somewhere ended up being Seattle; we loved the city, knew a few friends, and were just youthfully foolish enough to jump.  We set a date, sold off most of what we owed, and determined to see what would happen outside the constrains of a 9 to 5.  I took just about any odd art job I could find, from designing party invites to drawing tattoo designs to decorating weddings on a shoestring.  BC on the other hand, met one of the most interesting entrepreneurial individuals we'd ever known and was offered a job.
As a professional blackjack player.

This is real people.

For three years we lived off of his earnings as a card counter, a member of a large and well-funded blackjack team.  He flew nearly every where within the States that the game of blackjack is legal, played like a high roller, and made A LOT of money for the team and their investors.  We've stayed in some of the swankest suites casinos can offer, gluttonized in steakhouses, received watches, TVs, clothes and other swag, even spent a weekend snowboarding Tahoe with the owner of a major Reno casino.  And the best part of it all, was that we got to see each other again, and remember that we are each other's best friends.

I never breathed a word of this online, as it was important to keep Brad's profession on the serious down-low (yes.  counting cards in absolutely, 100% legal  but I tell you what, casinos DO NOT like you when they find out).  In fact, very few people knew at all outside our family and closest friends.  I think they all thought we were homeless.

Until now.
For several years, a film maker followed members of the team as they played big, won huge, lost devastatingly (counting gives you the edge, but it is not the end all) and lived their lives true to their beliefs.  That footage became a documentary which premiered at the Seattle Film Festival last summer, and since then has been gaining accolades and fame about as fast as fast can be.  Just last week, the film was released and it has positively blown up across the country.

SO.
I don't know what your plans are, but may I recommend adding a documentary to your weekend fun?

Holy Rollers: The True Story of Card Counting Christians - Trailer from Connell Creations on Vimeo.

Here's your links!
Holly Rollers The Movie
(it is available on demand through loads of carriers; ITunes and XBOX Live being two of the easiest)
This past weekend's article in the New York Times.
This past weekend's article on CNN.com (this one is awesome!).
* * *

So make some pop corn, crack open a bottle of something tasty and GO WATCH IT!
We're nearly bursting with excitement over here!

Sketchbook Writings

~ From my sketchbook writings and images, Monday March 12th ~

This is a true story about today:

It's been a day.  Nothing noteworthy, nothing outstanding, nothing traumatic other than the aftershocks of a dream which remains unremembered but deeply felt all the same.  I've been off.  My skin crawling with anxiety, breath sticky in my lungs.  

Outside the wind howled like the apocalypse; rain directly parallel to the river, bamboo brushing the ground in prostrate repentance, birch grunting like sea sick women.

And me.  I stood outside in the mud, shivering in nothing but an old white tank and bare feet, willing the weather to make me feel alive.

I looked up.  "Is this all there is?"

I watched leaves fly sideways.  "Show me there's more."

Curls dripped into my eyes and rain slapped my neck.  "Give me something.  Let me know."

And then, honest truth on my life, in that gale force that would send the stoutest beast cowering, in the flood that threatened the very integrity of the earth, a hummingbird flew to me.  Winter colors of muted olive and seaweed.  Flying from the north, she flew to me, lighted on the twisted cherry, paused for only half a second and was gone.

And I laughed at this mother of ours, the one who keeps our hearts whole and our creatures fed.  Because even in my small tantrum, I was heard.

A Full Clutch

The Chromophilliac Conquistadors
* * *

The Gleaners
There is a heavy cotton sack hanging from her right hand and a day-old sunburn across the tip of her nose.  Her pant legs are soaked well past the knees; a sure sign of hours wading through the surf.  A late afternoon zephyr blows hair into her eyes, pelicans skim the water, and the tide has begun it's eastward creep.

When you ask  "what have you found?" she smiles wryly and gives the sack a shake.  "Buried treasure, ancient history, ancestor wares."  Then she reaches not into the sack, but into a pocket, hand sticky from too much salt water, and produces the single most perfect shard in all of the earth.

"But this one is my favorite."
* * *

Fluttering into the Shop right now!

Cocktail Hour

As a few of you may know, back in a past life I was a bartender.  I can thank the drinkers of California for paying the entirety of my university tuition, funding the early stages of my boot addiction and teaching me that gin comes from Jesus.

One of the bars I slung drinks behind was host to a great number of fantastic regulars.  Not the aperitif swilling set, but the oldies, the goodies, the down-home blue collar workers who would could be counted on like clockwork.
The memory of one particular such man has stuck with me:
He was petite for a man, but petite was not a word one would dare utter in his presence.  He wore a beard like the fourth member of ZZ Top and occasionally the leathers to match.  He drank long neck Buds, and in no short supply, accompanied by a wife with blood red nails, tight jeans and a shameless bouffant.  He was the head foreman for a large crew of men, that much I knew, and during the building boom in the Silicon Valley he had done very well.  I was one of his favorites, that much I knew as well.
When he commandeered his seat at the bar, I would shove an entire six-pack on ice, pour a healthy shot of Jack and wait.  Wait for the phone call that always made my day.
He'd call up one of his men, ask how the work was coming, if they'd wrapped up for the day.  And if they had, he'd bellow into that tiny black apparatus
"Well then Com'on Down N' Hava Cocktail!"

There was no question of where.
There was no question of what (like I said, the man was a Budweiser drinker though and through).
And within thirty minutes, I'd have a crew that could raise a house crammed around my tiny bar, drinking "cocktails" as fast as I could crack 'em open.

Mr. ZZ Bud, you were one of my favorites too.
* * *
All that to say, if you've finished up for the day, com'on down n' hava cocktail with me.  This big ol' bottle of Sapphire isn't going to drink it self!

A Winner and a Chromophilliac Sneak Peek

Hello Monday...

I'm afraid to report that Sunday escaped me entirely.  In fact I think this section of the West Coast slipped straight from Saturday night into Monday morning under a dense haze of fog and scattered showers, along with a sheepskin blanket, utter exhaustion, and approximately three quarts of tea.  My sincere apologies for making you wait!

But for all you birdie lovers out there, we do have a winner this morning!  Thanks to the trusty random.org bot, number 15 was chosen, which happens to be the one and only

PencilFox!

Here's what she had to say:
"how has the earth been good to me?
the earth has much for me to learn when she lures me out the doors, into summer, into winter.
the earth blesses me with my favorite foods: salmon and garden greens.
most importantly, the earth has brought me into communion with creatives such as YOU!"


Lady, keep an eye on your mail box this week!


I loved, LOVED reading what you had to say, what you have received, what has stopped you in your tracks.  Each beautiful comment brought a smile to my face and a renewed love for this planet we share.  In fact, I can't believe I had not asked that question before!  I heartily encourage you to spend a few minutes today and read through the comments - talk about feeling bolstered by the strength of community!


Really, I'm just always thankful for you.

I've been working away on a collection of rings for you, set with various bits and bobbles of treasure, individual pottery pieces, collections on a color theme, even a sliver of weathered sea glass!  An official shop update is in order, so let's say Thursday March 8th in the am.  I'll be posting images of the work here, but will not be accepting reserves on this particular batch of rings (I like to switch up the ways in which I post new work, attempting to make it fair for all).

Crossing fingers and tail feathers for a week of small delights and little surprises for you all!
~ Umber ~