AinBailey.CoverLetter.Resume

So the new (fake) play-doh I got today dries super quick. Excuse the cracking as I save up for fondant. I lingered in the cake decorating aisle at Michael’s today, drooling over actual fondant crafting toys. The upgrade from my toothpick, knife, corkscrew handle tools that I fashioned from my utensil drawer. As soon as I get a budget (or an actual cake order) I will be back!!

So of course the play-doh comes in the jarring primary colors, plus hot pink for some reason. This cake is red with gold accents, which is actually bright yellow that I painted gold. The shimmer provided some relief for my eyes.

I think I should take up photography next, since none of these pictures look like much. I don’t think it’s my camera, I think pictures are all about the lighting. Anyway here is my second attempt at cake decorating. I wanted to make something other than roses, but the skill level is still being developed. Also I was running out of play-doh.

 

Imagine that the shadow is not there.

Flower Pot Cake

I told you there was a pot under there.

So I had a great day working with my fake fondant. All I am left to wonder is why I am not seeking/getting a job in the arts. Something to contemplate as I fall asleep.

 

 

My Other Secret Dream: Cake Decorating. First Attempt

Life is weird. I am not sure I believe in love, but I know I love weddings. So aside from being an awesome makeup artist, I secretly wish I was also, at least a part-time, cake decorator.  So since I am waiting for a start date, I have decided to work on my portfolio.

 

There is more contrast to the colors. Alas my camera is not up to the challenge.

I’m not in love with the bright neon cakes as a general rule, but that’s the only color play-doh I own right now.I am going to investigate if they make turquoise and brown play-doh for my next “cake.”

Accepting orders...If you like play-doh covered iPod Touch/soap boxes.

I wonder what cake decorators make annually? Anyone?

 

I’ve been here before

listening to the beats between my breath

relishing the empty space and the open days

the final decisions and my own simple way.

It’s different now

this privilege of being alone

I wear it loosely when before it was a second skin

wondering how I feel at the new way it fits.

—Thank you so much to everyone who sheltered and supported me during my last five months of nomadic living. I had no idea it would be so fun to share space .

Weak women scare me and by scare, I mean annoy and frustrate me. Be mindful that I am not talking about women in weakened states or those experiencing weak moments. I think everyone is deserving of weak moments whenever they feel the need to indulge. I am talking about women who cannot make decisions, who vacillate between choices like a metronome destined never to land in a final resting place, swayed constantly by the opinions and perceptions of their friends or simply the person standing behind them in line. (These weak women also tend not to be very discriminating. )

Don’t get me wrong I become one of these weak women when I am overwhelmed, which is not often and usually only happens when I am confronted with menus that have too many items. The magazine thick, complete with ads, menu at the Cheesecake Factory leaves me paralyzed and slowly drifting in an ennui that usually, miraculously, ruins my appetite. In the rare moments that I subject myself to this restaurant, I am freed of the ability to make a decision between a thousand versions of chicken, pasta or salad and I allow myself the time to contemplate the non-offensive décor in pleasant earthy pastels and swirl motifs and the waiters in their crisp all-black. When the moment comes to make a decision I let the waiter decide (which I am sure is a practice they love) or I end up ordering the rock shrimp pasta, forgetting that I have had it a million times, that it is always my pinch order dish and that it is never very good.

So maybe the issue is not the weak women, maybe the issue is the proliferation of choices that we are faced with each day. The multiple types of bottled water staring back at us from the case at the convenience store, distinguished only by the shade of blue on their labels and the free-ranging prices they command. The choice of stockings that promise to control top, no-foot, fishnet, reinforce and slim fit their way into pushing me, sweating profusely from the lingerie section, empty-handed. The truth is I think water should always be free and I think stockings are unnecessary.

As a culture we are daily faced with so many choices, from the truly inconsequential to the mind-numbingly complex. So maybe I should not begrudge women who find themselves so paralyzed by the choices we have to navigate our way through that they turn to the verbal questioning of random strangers. As a makeup artist I have worked for many years with women at their most susceptible, in makeup stores filled with empty (or time-consuming) promises. Time and again I have seen competent looking women reduced to blithering idiots questioning everyone with the misfortune to walk by as to whether the lipstick they have on, a lipstick that is the precise shade of the own natural lips, is natural enough. Or if the green eye shadow they walked in declaring loudly to anyone who would listen, that they wanted is maybe just a little too green, although in reality it is barely a shade away from the gold they always wear. I cannot comprehend the reassurance that they seek from people they do not know, the validation that they want from people who do not know them. I am baffled by the ability to trust a stranger more than one self. But I do know that Americans are drowning in choices and creating new ones every day. And that beneath this deafening“consume, consume” rally cry, what we are really producing are neurosis based on nothing more than too much.

I am a closet coveter of too much. I lie awake at night contemplating how I would live if I had money or a lover, or both, and I lose sleep by being hungry for life experiences that I am not guaranteed. Sometimes being in the world or logging on to the internet is literally like watching an assembly line of amazing food pass just out of reach of my hands, which is not the only problem because in addition to too much- being too far away, my jaw is also wired shut. And yes, because of these feelings I too can be weak, especially when 2am rolls around again and the beginning of another day that is too familiar slams into the unexplainable excitement of possibility that is keeping me awake.

I am a pessimistic optimist and in those moments, under cover of dark I am frazzled. I am happy and weepy with the mere shift of a thought and I am struggling to quench the unexplainable optimism I feel with the promise of predictability that I know is the only thing coming. In these moments I am the woman at the counter, staring into the mirror for 15 (timed) minutes. I am the women in the restaurant whose eyes cannot focus because there are too many pages, too many items. I am the women asking strangers for help, (and just might if I thought that anyone I trusted was awake.)

Still I was raised in a family of independent women who are always ready with an opinion and a decision. And if they weren’t exactly ready they could bluff and fake it until they were. These are the women I understand and this is the independent woman I am, most times. But this year I am going to escape from those unnecessary weak moments and rein in these 3 am thoughts. I am going to reinterpret my ideas of success and set myself up for it. I am going to narrow down the endless list of everything and allow in only what makes me truly happy. Not the things that should make me happy according to that which society says a woman my age enjoys. ie. shoes, chocolate and partying, each of which I either hate or am ambivalent about. But make clearer those things that truly make me smile: books, traveling and waking up with something real to look forward to. Which means more importantly that I must make sure that I have some things to look forward to. My resolution is to ignore the noise and listen to what is within. To prevent myself from becoming weak with choice, with lack, and with the confusion of useless desire. I am going to take control. Do what I can and either disdain or plan for the rest. And hopefully 3 am will begin to pass unnoticed.

1. Finished my first novel!!!!!

2. Graduated Magna cum Laude, which feels awesome even if it only means something to me

3. Traveled to Beijing and Dalian, China. The farthest I have ever been from home.

4. Learned to play (and love) Mah Jong

5. Went on my first cruise (Finally!) and ate and slept like a queen.

6. Heard Marc Lamont Hill, Jeff Johnson, Michael Eric Dyson and Sonya Sotomayor speak at assorted conferences

7. Got over my need to be constantly over-prepared and exactly by the book. Spontaneity Now!

8. Drove cross-country across the United States from Atlanta to Oakland

9. Saw 2 of the 7 or 8 World Wonders: The Great Wall of China and The Grand Canyon

10.  Saw Janelle Monae, Alvin Ailey, Esperanza Spalding (2x) and Saul Williams in concert

11. I asked for help (a lot) and (mostly) got yes in return.

12. Climbed a rock wall

13. Recorded my first song, Summertime. Thank God for technology and clever engineers.

14. Lived like a nomad for the past 5 months.

15. Most Important: For the majority of this year, I did what I wanted to do. (sounds great just typing that)

Driving cross country is one of those things I have always thought of doing, but never really planned on doing. In my head a cross-country trip would be a family oriented learning trip for my kids. But I grow older, bereft of family and kids, and in the gap between masters graduation and a job (thanks recession) I found myself with the time, if not the money to drive cross country and so I did. The thing I like best about traveling is the lessons I learn about my assumptions and about myself by enjoying a different perspective if just for a time. China taught me that I actually am proud to be an American (go figure and more on that later) and driving/riding from Atlanta to Oakland via the Southwest led me to believe that maybe I can live here for the rest of my life.
Currently I am in Oakland without Internet, typing on my iPhone which is a remarkable creation but alas not an actual computer and so there is more to come.

Lorraine Motel. Site of Rev. Dr.  Martin Luther King’s Assasination.

Now the National Civil Rights Museum. Well, well worth the visit and the $13 dollars.

I have a really awesome sense of direction and can find my way in new places with little help. My mother remembers me giving her driving directions at the age of three.

I have a really awful memory. Really. Awful. I depend on my friends to piece together events for me and they think my memory is selective. I do have a keen memory for being disrespected tho, but that doesn’t happen often.

I attended seven schools before High school and I see the impact it has made on my ability to start and maintain friendships. I hope to change that and have more long-term, real friendships

I am content being single because my President and First Lady are so damn loving and real together. Truly. — I don’t want it if it doesn’t look like that.

I want to be a critical race theorist (I think that I already am) and sometime I think that also want to be a critical race theorist talking head on CNN, with sexy Anderson Cooper

I want to start a foundation that links artists with other artists for collaboration and support, links artists to youth in the communities and links artists to patrons. Rich people need to support arts and culture. How many vacations can you take, rich people??

I think that my brother is the best writer in the world. And I read more than anyone I know, so I consider myself an expert.

My life goals are: To Travel, To Eat Well and To Have Love in my Life

I would love to be able to support myself off of my writing alone, and have the money and the schedule where all I do is travel, write, speak and meet new people.

I love books more than some people I know, but sometimes I think that they ruined me by showing me lives and places that, at least right now, I can’t live or visit.

I believe in fairies and other worlds. (Sometimes I wish I lived in a place where there were mermaids and magic)

I love and believe in the power of naps. I love to nap and hear people and voices in the other room. It makes me think there will be something interesting to wake up to.

I am most peaceful, content and excited when I am writing.

I wish that I had a family that was more closely knit.

I am super independent and I’m starting to think that that might be a weakness as well as a strength.

I wonder if I will ever have the money or the relationship to support having kids. I wonder if I want them, even tho I think about them a lot.

Even tho they have turned on me in the past, I wish I had a big clique of friends right now, although the ones I do have kick ass!!! Definitely high quality.

I love my puppy, Kharmajon more than many, many things.

I love to be by myself!!

I have really good self control/will power. Especially when it comes to restricting myself from things. That probably has deeper meaning, but I try not to analyze it.

I love ideas and information and people who think about the world beyond their own lives. These are also the only things that really interest me.

I have four other novels living in my head, waiting for me to have the time to write them. They are my favorite secret

I am not very thoughtful. I don’t remember birthdays or anniversaries etc. Most of the time I don’t care that I am this way.

I intend to live in many places. NYC, East Bay, somewhere out of the country. I hope this will calm my restless spirit. Or give it room to play.

25. I LOVE storms. Thunder and lightning. The louder and more violent the better.

You always loved the smoke more than the reality

and the truth of that sometimes hits me like hard rain

sharp and dead

I starry eyed and in love

chased tail lights back to the big city I craved

and the town I always hated

 

in the midst of things

twenty stories up

I cleared the smoke and

learned that all my hard earned theories

would save me no heartbreak

 

that all of my preparation

had nonetheless brought me to this place

 

a symbol by your side

a vessel for your words

an audience to your drama

 

not living and feeling

until I was screaming with rage

 

my words

unused and unasked for

stumbled over my feelings of being ignored

unwanted, forgotten

as images on the tv screen cooned and laughed their way in

to a life I no longer recognized as my own

 

A trade was made 

a deal was had and broken

and I thought love was involved

until it drifted away in the smoke that always filled the air

 

And I who never believed 

thought I had found

the one

until I realized my place

 

then remembering my place

I mourned us in November

living the loss daily by your side

 

i am complete in my decisions

confident in my path

but even these things

do not protect me from the failure

or from regret of all kinds

 

from wondering if, again

and when and who

praying I will be ready 

praying it will be real this time

and hoping it will be soon

 

But until then 

there is this

thousand miles between your endless 

hollow words about yourself

 

there is this

two hundred days away from

your idea of connection

so simple it is almost sad

 

there is this

enough months 

for me to breathe clean air 

and to know that

I am not alone because

 

in my life now

there is this 

Bliss