peel bottles

I used to peel labels off bottles.  A lot of people do this, I've seen it quite a few times in my life, this destructive inclination.  It is not such a bad habit to have, though, probably better than smoking or biting your nails or having four bourbon and waters before dinner.  For some reason, I don't peel labels anymore.  I understand the impetus for such a habit; it is satisfying to feel the resistance of glue against your taut fingertips, to undress the bottle, to create two objects where before, there was only one.  Some people like to say that it's an act signifying sexual frustration.  Maybe this is true, I am not really sure.  

Personally, I do not feel any less sexually frustrated than when I was a bottle peeler.  Maybe I just don't care as much.  Now, when I get the urge to slip my fingernail under the plastic skirt of the bottle and slowly work my way further into the label overlap until I can feel the soft and sticky glue sealing the two pieces together, I simply stop.  It is no longer an unconscious action.  I realize what I am doing and stop myself.  It makes me feel calm, composed, in control of my mind and body.  I might fold the tiny plastic corner backwards, test the resiliency of the glue and then smooth the fold I just made back down in it's original place, like tucking a child back into bed after a nightmare.  Shhh, go back to sleep little label.  I am calm, I do not need you, I will not destroy you.

Bikes

Sometimes, riding a bike is like being naked. People walking, people riding in cars, people sitting, everyone looks at you like you're a freak. Maybe it is the audacity of self-propelled sufficiency in transportation, or maybe it is out of sheer boredom; I can't count the number of eyes I meet while I'm on my bike. They are all naked to me, too. Everyone is naked all the time.

Hurricane House

Here are some prelimiary studies for a sculpture project that I'm planning on creating, the Baltimore Hurricane House. It is meant to be completed as an homage to global warming, and the unintended consequences of the carbon footprint that each and every one of us contributes to. The project, in a nutshell, is to create this monument of what a structure in Baltimore might look like when subjected to the incredible forces of a hurricane. It highlights an idea of the unthinkable happening; hurricanes are a very real and tangible fear for a large population in our country and I would like extend this idea to a place that wouldn't normally need to worry about a hurricane striking. The project is not meant to instill fear, rather, the object is to point out the growing evidence that global warming is contributing to the increase in both the strength and frequency of hurricanes in the Northern Atlantic weather system.

My cat is under the workbench.  I don't know how he got under there, it doesn't seem like there is enough space at any one point to slip through and into the dusty cavity, but he's a cat, and I guess that's what cats do.  He's depressed and his urethra probably hurts, because he has a urinary tract infection.  I think he might have crawled under there to die.  I'm not sure what to do; I can't take him to the vet again because I don't have the money.  If he would come out, I would give him little cranberry extract capsules or apple cider vinegar, and maybe that would help.  I hope he doesn't die.  I have to go to work soon and I'm afraid he won't be OK when I come back.