Death by Dusk

Seriously- I know it's been a while since I bothered to post anything and I kind of hate to come right out of the gate with a complaint... but really? Seriously? It's only 9:42pm and it feels like 1 in the morning.

More importantly I wanted to inform you all (all two of you) that Properly Salted is officially going on hiatus. It's definitely been fun to have an outlet for all my ranting and raving but a few complications have set dear Salty back in the last few months. Essentially, Mr.Mr. and I have no money so I can't exactly write about all the great food we could be eating, the awesome knickknacks I could be buying, or all the fun places we could be visiting. And I'm so busy with school that I hardly have the time to read other blogs, watch tv, or read anything but articles on german case bindings which leaves me little to comment on in my typical Salty fashion.

So until I can determine what I want to broadcast my thoughts on and why, we shall part as friends. Let's make a point to keep in touch though, eh?

xo, Salty

Last Thursday in Portland

Mr.Mr. and I headed over to Alberta street last week for the famed Last Thursday Art Walk. We had heard a number of conflicting opinions on its popularity and were hoping to swing by the stand of a fellow Scrap-er to check out her crafty wares. Little did we know, the entire street was closed to traffic and event staff had been hired to coordinate the evening's vendors and visitors. Needless to say, I've never seen more people in one place in Portland like this. It was the capacity equivalent of a large annual street fair like those held in Seattle (think Fremont Solstice Parade, UDistrict Street Fair, or the Ballard Sunday Market on speed)... only this happens every month.

One artist we spoke to seemed to think the event was on the verge of collapsing in on itself due to the size. According to him, the event had evolved dramatically over the past five years and both patrons and vendors were reaching a saturation point. Adding fuel to the fire, the Last Thursday event is a largely unregulated free for all when it comes to setting up and maintaining a booth. It's first come, first served for space on the busy sidewalks and there are no entry requirements or booth fees. If you're picking up what I'm laying down, this means the city of Portland is both opening themselves up to potential safety/legal issues and passing up a big opportunity to turn a profit on this year-round, popular event.

Logistics aside, we made the grave mistake of parking on the East end of the street which resulted in our walking directly into the sun for the entire length of Alberta, shielding our eyes with the Noir issue of Bitch magazine we picked up for free. The discovery of the evening was the work of the very talented Yellena James on display at the Together Gallery. Ms. James crafts gorgeously vibrant pen and ink drawings on clay board that seem to be a combination wandering notebook doodle and naturalistic illustration from some psychedelic hiking guide. Bright colors pop out among undulating tendrils and cellular shapes, creating a fantastic combination of pattern and color. I am absolutely smitten with her work and will have to begin saving some serious pennies to add one to my collection sometime soon. Check out Yellena's work or visit her blog to see for yourself.

New slang

All over town (by town, I mean webernets) there are these hoards of people who lurk in the dark shadows of popular blogs and online publications, voraciously devouring every word written, waiting with bated breath to pounce on something... any small morsel they can concoct an elaborate vitriolic diatribe around in the comment section. This brand of feedback is almost always entirely indicative of their lack of comprehension of the writing's true content/purpose and generally serve to disparage the author in some ridiculous, single-minded way without addressing any larger issue.

Frequently rife with misspellings, poor sentence structure, and/or faulty grammar- these diarrhea-of-the-mouth style (for lack of a better expression) missives serve no purpose other than to chip away at the self-esteem of the writer (or worse, the subject of the post/story), while demonstrating the higher intelligence/morality/social standing of the commenter.

Ladies and gentlemen of the webernets, without further ado... allow me to introduce you to:

Netpicker (n) - Original Etymology, Nit Picker (n) 1951 - pedantic critic. Adopted for the web (or internet) in 2009. - Specifically characterizes an individual who seeks to criticize the work of another in the public forum of the comment section of any online published content with thinly-veiled attempts to elevate his/her own standing on unrelated grounds.

Synonyms: Hater (variant, "player" hater), troll, sniper, naysayer, @sshole, misanthrope.

I should add here that I've been very fortunate to avoid the steel gaze of most netpickers by flying largely under their radar with this fun little blog of mine. I've come up with this expression to put a name to the endless supply of jack@sses I come across while enjoying the work of other bloggers.

Most notably, I'm alarmed on a regular basis at just how many readers flock to Heather Armstrong's thoroughly amusing and insightful dooce.com, seemingly for the sole purpose of netpicking. She regularly posts excerpts of her most amusing hate e-mails and I applaud her for taking it all in stride. Netpickers should largely be ignored... but it's about time we put a name to their nasty little spiteful faces.

What are the chances

...I'll be able to convince Mr.Mr. to wear this to our next summer social gathering? Maybe it's the East Coaster in me, the part that thinks a mauve, oxford, button-down shirt and grey, lightweight, argyle sweater is entirely acceptable as evening wear (with the sleeves pushed up to three-quarters and the cuffs rolled around the sweater- of course)... but I'm digging on this. Perfect for an afternoon game of croquet, n'est pas?

Found via What Consumes Me, originally on Kempt.

Bruises be gone

I'm not sure how it happens, but right around summer time when I'm ::gasp:: ready to bare arms in tank tops and swimsuits (perhaps less so the latter), I start to notice all the tiny bruises I've somehow managed to inflict upon myself in my daily wanderings. I suspect some happen without my even noticing as most are smaller than a quarter, but there's always a fond memory or two of running into the coffee table or cutting a corner too close. Ahh, memories.

Fear not, my pallid friends- there's help out there for you and your splotchy spots! Brown Butterfly of Bellevue, WA makes a fantastic body oil called "Athlete" that contains natural ingredients helping to bring back the healthy coloring of your skin after a nasty bump. If I recall correctly (and with the help of my own bottle's label), among the fantastic ingredients of Athlete oil are arnica, sweet marjoram, black pepper, and hazelnut oil. Arnica is the sneaky little helper that works to heal your bruises, while the black pepper works like magic, creating a warming sensation as the oil meets friction, be it between your hands or working on weary muscles.

I first met Fran, the husband of BB's founder at one of the many summer festivals in Seattle when I worked a booth as regional brand manager for a national food company. Fran is the cutest, most sincere gentleman you'll come across at one of these events- unassuming and polite while offering a bevy of details about the products his wife has created. He patiently explained that Brown Butterfly's oils are processed differently than your average body oil which results in smaller beads (molecules?) that absorb into your skin more easily- leaving less of the residue that gives you that greasy afterglow... which is great. Plus- it smells heavenly. Earthy without the dirty mustiness of the natural oil black sheep- patchouli, and warm without the heavy-hitter scents such as cinnamon or clove.

You can find BB products online or at local farmer's markets throughout Seattle. I've had my 4 oz. bottle for probably four years- a little bit goes a long way, and the stuff has yet to go rancid or otherwise lose potency. Plus, the packaging is clever and minimal which is another winning feature. All in all- a must have for anyone who bruises easily or enjoys a nice back rub from time to time. Christmas in July, anyone?

Awe

Gustavo Aimar's blog, La Mesa de Trabajo (The Month of Work) chronicles his mixed media collage and illustration work in photographs of his studio, works in progress, and completed pieces. I am completely struck by this one in particular.

There's something captivating about the detail of this figure. The delicately ornate eyelashes, straightforward and expressive eyes, high, rouged cheeks and Mona Lisa-like, reserved smile. The punctuated eyebrows and halo of blue around the face add a really interesting element and the chalk-white pallet of the face is so great. of At a mere 36 years old, this native Argentinian is a true talent and artistic inspiration. Not to mention I completely envy his studio and collection of antique papers.

What, What!?

Be there or be square on June 27th! This will be my first trip to the barn and I absolutely cannot wait. Just take a gander at the site to see a sampling of the gorgeous wares on sale. Drool-tastic!

Somebody better start saving their pennies... You and me, both!

Photo courtesy of Queen of Tarte.