E-mail: Brian7Morris "at" hotmail.com Archives March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 current Blogs Mandapants farkleberries Uranium City Records The C.M. Sienko Foundation Storyteller Musings Solotarian Views Lynne Wiora Tek Poker News Blog Some Biscuits Evil Eye Emporium Niggling Doubts Pressure Release Sara as Mommy runswithscissors Defective Yeti Afternoon Delight trancejen The Terrarium Bird Nird Slipperily Tofu Hut Stereo Gum Links Fixed Gear Gallery Get Crafty This is Grand Featherproof Books Gapers Block Chicago Bird Watching	No one must know my terrible secret... House of Noh! Thursday, August 19, 2004 I've been hard at work sewing. Sewing what you ask? Sewing big projects for my big trip! I shouldn't brag, really I shouldn’t, but I'm a pretty good sewer. Sometimes some of the older women who work at fabric and craft stores, the really conservative craftresses, (you know the type) get all angry at me and give me shit. Like if I indicate I'm going to sew something with white fabric and red thread, they say mean stuff like, "that would be a good idea... if you want the stitches to show! Dumbass!" What they don't understand in general about my projects is that I sew toward what I envision as my more masculine sewing ideal (lack of attention to detail) - this isn't appreciated in the female dominated sewing world. Also, I don’t think those old craft masters like me in their world. When I was in college I got a reputation for sewing and people would stop by my dorm room and ask me to sew on a button for them or to sew up a tear or something. I would only do it after they formally acknowledged that I was a "master tailor" - I actually made them call me that. Then I would nod my head, all magnaminous-like, reach into my desk, pull out my little travel sewing kit and then sew their button back on. I think sometimes people resented having to call me a master tailor. Some people thought I was just kidding, and they didn't really have to refer to me as a "master tailor" before I'd sew their button on. But I wasn't. They really had to call me that. It was okay too if they called me a "master-bater" (that was actually quite a popular thing to do) as long as they also referred to me also as a "master tailor." I wasn't easy on the way up, though. I think building my reputation as a master tailor was a lot like becoming a tattoo artist. I've read books on how to be a tattoo artist, and first you got to tattoo yourself, then your friends, and only then do people start coming to you for a tattoo. It was like that building my college tailor reputation - at first I’d have to practically demand to sew buttons on for people. Nobody thought I could sew…perhaps it was the general state of disrepair my clothes usually were in. But eventually, after a lot of hard work and dedication, I started to build the kind of reputation where I could demand that people call me a “master tailor.” But about my career as a tattoo artist: I know I’ve been a strong advocate of the self tattoo in the past. I have, in fact, I've used this very web-log as a sort of soap-box in support of the self-tattoo. What if, now, I changed my position? Would you think less of me? Like, what if I started hiring professional tattoo artists to cover up some of my mistakes and to finish up some of my half-completed tattoo projects? One the other hand, what if I didn’t change my position; what if I took off my shirt and I had all this Cape Fear kind of crazy shit all over my body? Would you think less of me then? Like after you saw my tattoos - stuff like "!Reimpowerment!" on a flowing banner stretched across my chest in the beaks of two flight-capable ostriches? What about the smiling deer with big antlers standing erect on his hind legs wearing high-tops and holding a shield that bears the legend: "Glory Irregardless"? Or the Anarchy symbol formed from stylized legumes on my belly? Either revise my position, or the Cape Fear thing - these are my only two options I think. Brian 1:29 AM Comments: Post a Comment

E-mail: Brian7Morris "at" hotmail.com

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Evil Eye Emporium
Niggling Doubts
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House of Noh!

Thursday, August 19, 2004

I've been hard at work sewing. Sewing what you ask? Sewing big projects for my big trip! I shouldn't brag, really I shouldn’t, but I'm a pretty good sewer. Sometimes some of the older women who work at fabric and craft stores, the really conservative craftresses, (you know the type) get all angry at me and give me shit. Like if I indicate I'm going to sew something with white fabric and red thread, they say mean stuff like, "that would be a good idea... if you want the stitches to show! Dumbass!" What they don't understand in general about my projects is that I sew toward what I envision as my more masculine sewing ideal (lack of attention to detail) - this isn't appreciated in the female dominated sewing world. Also, I don’t think those old craft masters like me in their world. When I was in college I got a reputation for sewing and people would stop by my dorm room and ask me to sew on a button for them or to sew up a tear or something. I would only do it after they formally acknowledged that I was a "master tailor" - I actually made them call me that. Then I would nod my head, all magnaminous-like, reach into my desk, pull out my little travel sewing kit and then sew their button back on. I think sometimes people resented having to call me a master tailor. Some people thought I was just kidding, and they didn't really have to refer to me as a "master tailor" before I'd sew their button on. But I wasn't. They really had to call me that. It was okay too if they called me a "master-bater" (that was actually quite a popular thing to do) as long as they also referred to me also as a "master tailor." I wasn't easy on the way up, though. I think building my reputation as a master tailor was a lot like becoming a tattoo artist. I've read books on how to be a tattoo artist, and first you got to tattoo yourself, then your friends, and only then do people start coming to you for a tattoo. It was like that building my college tailor reputation - at first I’d have to practically demand to sew buttons on for people. Nobody thought I could sew…perhaps it was the general state of disrepair my clothes usually were in. But eventually, after a lot of hard work and dedication, I started to build the kind of reputation where I could demand that people call me a “master tailor.” But about my career as a tattoo artist: I know I’ve been a strong advocate of the self tattoo in the past. I have, in fact, I've used this very web-log as a sort of soap-box in support of the self-tattoo. What if, now, I changed my position? Would you think less of me? Like, what if I started hiring professional tattoo artists to cover up some of my mistakes and to finish up some of my half-completed tattoo projects? One the other hand, what if I didn’t change my position; what if I took off my shirt and I had all this Cape Fear kind of crazy shit all over my body? Would you think less of me then? Like after you saw my tattoos - stuff like "!Reimpowerment!" on a flowing banner stretched across my chest in the beaks of two flight-capable ostriches? What about the smiling deer with big antlers standing erect on his hind legs wearing high-tops and holding a shield that bears the legend: "Glory Irregardless"? Or the Anarchy symbol formed from stylized legumes on my belly? Either revise my position, or the Cape Fear thing - these are my only two options I think.

Brian 1:29 AM

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House of Noh!

Thursday, August 19, 2004