Catherine's girl crush.

I like that I haven't updated this thing in roughly two weeks. That's the real joy of teaching, you know: not just the lack of time but the crippling sick that comes with being around disgusting children all day. Right now, I seem to be passing an uber-cold back and forth with my wife. I stayed home with it this week, and I never take off for sickness. I might BE sick, but I'll go to school. I'll add my little contribution to the Petri dish that is that building.

Anyway, Catherine's girl crush is Cheryl Hann from Picnicface. It's adorable. She's at the end of this gem here:

Women in Comedy

But the real victory is here, if you can appreciate the music until Dragon Mummy appears:

Insomnia

For the past few nights, I have been unable to fall asleep at a decent hour. Initially, I was bogged down in exams. Now, I am recovering from the plague that Marcus brought home from school. So... here I am... nowhere close to sleep, stuck with Zombie Horse-Face in Sex and the City and the crying baby upstairs. Luckily, though, that husband of mine is curled up in bed right next to me. He has been a sicky for the past week or so, but he always comes through for me, whether I am terrified of failing an exam or losing my mind from trying to keep all the holiday planning straight. I could never have imagined that I would find a person as funny, caring, generous, or handsome as this bobbin to spend my life with.

Willy

Just thought I would share a random new artist I learned about today. Mr. William Kentridge is a South African artist of European descent. His father was the legal representative for the family of Steve Biko and Winnie Mandela, Nelson Mandela's wife. So, Kentridge grew up with the constant awareness that his skin tone gave him immense privilege. In the early 90s he decided to start taking photos of his drawings in progress, leading to these films called "drawing projections"-- he refuses to label them animations. You can tell that the images come from a single drawing, edited and rephotographed. The traces of whatever he has erased and changed make the drawings that much more beautiful. In this film, you can tell when he has smoothed some transitions between photos, but all in all, his technique is fantastic to watch.



In October, I went to a show at the Kyle Kauffman Gallery in the city and randomly ran across one of his prints. I remember standing in front of it for at least fifteen minutes straight. And after I left, I couldn't get it out of my mind. Here it is, Studio Portrait, from the gallery's website. It is about three feet tall and two feet wide. Riveting.

I was so wrong.

Julia pointed out one of my flaws. I forgot this young man:



Luca is unstoppable. How are those facial expressions? Fantastic is the answer.

Girls, girls, girls.

This may be becoming excessive, I feel it is necessary to post my (musicians) wives as well.

1. Christy

For goodness sakes, this girl has reinvented herself three times.

A. Pop singer

All embedding was disabled, so here is the link to "Genie in a Bottle": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WG_m6h-XvMo&feature=related

B. Sex pot



C. R&B singer



D. 40s jazz singer.



This woman has the ultimate voice, better than anyone else I can think of in music right now. Plus-- she is having a baby, and looking fantastic while doing it, with a rat man. Whom she loves!


2. Sarah



This woman knows how to sing a tune. She also knows how to dress. And win my heart.

You had a goal, but not that many

You may have thought that after yesterday, we would take a break from the blog. But no. It's snowing outside, which means that it is the type of day when one doesn't get off the couch.

I don't know how many of you know my ultimate (musician) husband list, so I thought that today I would share that list with you (in no particular order).

1. Biggie



The actual husband seems to think that it is adorable that I love Notorious B.I.G. But it is not adorable. It is for real. That voice? Can you stop it? No. You can't. I would have married him, anytime, anyplace. Granted, I'm not much for hos or hustling or skunk, but I will go out on a limb and say, for you Biggie, I would do anything.


2. 2 Pac



One thing that I love about 2 Pac is that he can mean it when he tells men to respect women, and then, in his next video, only show women as sex objects. But he is a cutie. A super cutie. With some feelings.


3. Sir Elton



This song is possibly my favorite song of all time. And those glasses and bright sequin outfits take me back to middle school, when I would come home everyday, put on one of several Elton John records, and sing at the top of my lungs while doing my homework. As a bonus, it is also featured in one of my favorite movies of all time:




4. Louis



I don't know if anyone has had feelings like this gentleman. I would kiss his mouth.


5. Victor



You, sir, can rock my face twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

I will never disagree with anyone's excitement upon hearing Heart. However, this gentleman wins a heart like none other.



Paul Potts appeared on (and won) "Britain's Got Talent." His awkwardness, awful teeth, and crestfallen face when the judges don't immediately speak make my heart melt. I have never really listened to much opera, but what I do know can be powerful. Paul, however, is completely sincere, and I believe that is what makes people cry.

The piano.

The piano explodes.

It explodes!



Oh, and Nancy Wilson? Cleavage much? Excellent work.

Somewhere in my life there is a dissertation on the transition in the marketing and music of Heart from the 1970s to the 1980s. I am so so serious about this.

Catherine's thoughts on the video: "This is overtly sexual. It's making me uncomfortable with all the cleavage and writhing on the floor and close-ups on their faces. They were so cute in the 70s! I can't see them like this!"

My thoughts exactly, except for I'm so comfortable, and I only want to see them this way.

One more Heart explosion.

Right. When I was courting the wife, I had a few tricks up my sleeve. One of them was delivering her a letter that was, in its entirety, the lyrics to "Alone" by Heart. I arranged them grammatically so that they made sense, and I formatted it like a real letter. But Cat didn't know Heart at the time. She just thought she was getting a letter with these sentiments:

I hear the ticking of the clock
I'm lying here the room's pitch dark
I wonder where you are tonight
No answer on the telephone
And the night goes by so very slow
Oh I hope that it won't end though
Alone
Till now I always got by on my own
I never really cared until I met you
And now it chills me to the bone
How do I get you alone
How do I get you alone
you don't know how long i have wanted
to touch your lips and hold you tight
You don't know how long I have waited
and I was going to tell you tonight
But the secret is still my own
and my love for you is still unknown
Alone
Till now I always got by on my own
I never really cared until I met you
And now it chills me to the bone
How do I get you alone

Needless to say, revealing that this was a song was less awesome than Cat continuing to believe that I was a stalker. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the race was won.

PS: I did the same thing a few weeks later with the lyrics to "Glory of Love" by Peter Cetera. But she knew that one.

Every single second of the night.

I know I said I'd leave it at two things with the video for "These Dreams," but we've just watched it again... and I need to make a few things clear.

The drummer in that video, who makes his triumphant entrance after the plaster horse head, knew he was taking you on a ride. Do you see those moves? That spin move? The pointing at you? I love him. What is he wearing? I love him.

But the real twist in this viewing was Cat noticing that the disembodied hands are coming out of grates in the floor. Why are they down there? What's going on here? I know that they love Heart -- I love Heart, and I would definitely reach up through a grate to touch Ann Wilson, even now, when she's 57 and post gastric surgery of some kind -- but I still feel like the audience might have been captured and locked up. Which is fantastic.

Heart explosion.

Let's start with Nancy Wilson's mediocre guitar playing:



Here's some more video evidence of how listlessly she performed in the 1970s. Literally nothing is exuding from her soul.

For my money, though, you aren't going to get a bigger explosion of wife-ness than Anne Wilson in this video:



She is stealing my heart with her wiles! I love the drummer, too. And the way Nancy is just jamming over there to the side, totally loving how hard her sister is rocking the vocals.

Also, what is that song about? Feelings? Fish? I vote for "wifes." That is the plural.

Oh, but then.

Then my actual wife and I found this, which I remembered in part, but obviously not in full and total awesomeness. You... you have to brace yourself here. This is where it all peaked for them. Did they upgrade drummers? Yes. Definitely. Did they upgrade hair? Goes without saying. But there's so much more going on here that it almost defies description.



All we're going to point are these two moments:

First, 1:45 in, while she's singing about "words that have no form," Nancy Wilson, dressed like Jareth from Labyrinth, crawls up to a giant plaster horse head. In the middle of the desert.

Second, if you start watching at the 3:00 mark, you're going to see the guitar players fall backward into water while playing their guitars. Out of nowhere. You must see this. Don't worry, either; they magically rise out of the water a few seconds later.

Game, set, match.