Maybe This Should Be a Baking Blog

Yesterday's cooking adventure was cheesecake. Jesse cut the first slice this morning and had it for breakfast. He also officially named it "twelve mile cheesecake". Last night in a moment of utter stupidity, I decided to google how many calories are burned in walking a mile. (Jesse and I walked the dogs three miles yesterday.) I was prepared to be so proud of us for getting in shape. Then, I read the following sobering facts: One pound of fat is approximately 3500 calories. An average sized person burns about 100 calories per mile walked. No wonder there are so many fat people!!!

A Franciscan Benediction

Came across this online the other day and thought it was one of the most beautiful things I've read in a while.

"May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart. May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace. May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort and to turn their pain into joy. And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done."

Hooping

So I got the hoop made. ( Well, actually Jesse pretty much made it before I even touched the stuff.) We poured water into it to make it heavier. I had read that people often get bruises when they start and that the weighted hoops really make a difference. I didn't really believe it. When I lifted the hoop, it didn't feel that much heavier than a normal hula hoop, and I can go on those things forever, so I figured this would be a piece of cake. Consider me wrong. Within two minutes, my stomach was in pain from the hoop hitting it. It reminded me of that scene in Kickboxer where Van Damme's trainer makes him lay down under a tree and then the trainer climbs up the tree and drops a coconut so that it lands right on Van Damme's stomach. At first, it really hurts him (obviously...ouch), but by the end, his stomach muscles are so buff that it doesn't even phase him. Not that I aspire to Van Damme status, more like I just felt like I was being hit with a coconut. =) Anyway, here's me doing the hokey pokey while hooping.

Rambling to Avoid Watching Hockey

I don't have much to blog about. Jesse is watching hockey, so I am trying to entertain myself. I don't really know anything about hockey, so it's not exactly super fun to me. Although, when we lived in Colorado, we used to go to Eagles games, and I actually enjoyed it live. It's like graceful violence. But, when it's just on tv...not as cool. I can't complain though. Jesse doesn't get to watch much hockey down here, so he deserves some good hockey time without the wife asking questions and making comments. I can say that I know hockey teams and logos quite well though - even old teams that no longer exist. (Thanks Zephyr!!) I also am quite well acquainted with CFL teams and logos. I think that is one deserving accomplishment for an American. After the hockey game, I will see if Jesse wants to walk the dogs with me. Tonight we are meeting up with my cousin and her husband. I plan to make a pit stop by Lowe's and get some irrigation tubing...or something like that...for my new sport, hooping. It's like hula hooping, except you use a hoop that's bigger and has weights in it, so it moves around your body slower, and is apparently easier to keep up. Apparently, you can burn up to 600 calories in an hour. I'm sure my version of it won't quite reach that many, but still...seems like more fun to me than running or lifting weights. The hoops are really expensive, but I found a website that layouts how to make your own, so that's why the irrigation tube stuff. We'll see how it goes. If I get it to work, I just might post a photo of some hooping action. Jesse is trying to help me come up with a transition into another subject (it was just commercial). He suggests a prepositional phrase such as "next to", which doesn't really work. But it does however, give me another subject to blog about. When I was in fifth grade we studied prepositions. Then again when I was in 7th grade, we memorized the most common prepositions and prepositional phrases. I can still recite them alphabetically.

About, Above, According To, After, Against, Along, Along With, Among, Around, At, Because of, Before, Behind, Below, Beneath, Beside, Between, Beyond, But, By, Concerning, Down, During, Except, For, From, In, In Addition To, In and On Behalf Of, In Case Of, In Front Of, Into, Like, Near, Of, Off, On, On Account Of, On Top of, Over, Through, Througout, Til, To, Together With, Toward, Under, Until, Up, Upon, With, Within, Without.

Mrs. Gebhardt would be proud. Oh...Jesse has just informed me that he is done watching hockey now. Thus, my post is done.

Crunchy Chip Cookies

Jesse was craving something sweet after lunch today, so I told him I would make him something while he was at work. I ended up with crunchy chip cookies minus the raisins that the recipe originally called for. Cooking and baking has grown on me the last few months. I'm even getting decent at decorating cakes. I imagine after school starts up and I am working again, my baking days will lessen. (As will my waistline.) I ordered my books for school a few days ago and the UPS man dropped them off this morning. I'm actually really excited for this semester. I think/hope I have finally found the right fit. Time will tell. Until then, I'll probably be baking and job hunting....

Abstraction

Thought it might be time for a post that doesn't have anything to do with naked people. =) So here's a recent abstract piece I did. The background is actually a fluid blue without much variation, but I can't seem to fix it in the photo. I don't normally do abstracts, which is why I did this one. Honestly, I struggle with them. This was really good for me to do simply because it is so different than my usual preferences. I want this year to be a year of trying new things and broadening my views and understanding of all aspects of life. To learn to not judge so quickly, to let myself entertain ideas that I immediately find false and offensive, and to really explore.

Doing Some Venting...

I often wonder if pornography is the arch enemy of the figure artist, creating all sorts of misunderstandings and obstacles for the artist who sincerely wants to display the human body as more than simply eye candy to be used for selfish gratification. I checked back in on my figure drawing forum today, and read a couple of posts that struck a nerve with me. One of the guy's agents submitted some work to an art fair organizer, which in my opinion, was tastefully done. The reply from the art organizer was that his work was deemed "unsuitable for family viewing...". This prompted a series of replies of other artists who have had work removed from shows, or denied for the same reasoning. That in itself angers me. I think it's a slap in the face not only to the artwork, but to the artist, almost implying that he/she has a dirty mind. I know that not everyone "gets" figure drawings or paintings, and doesn't understand why an artist would want to paint nudes so much, and that is fine. But, when you go to the level of saying that someone's work is unfit for a certain audience, or deny it from being shown, or when you automatically assume that the art is about sex, or that it's in some way pornographic, it really angers me. So it's a-okay for commercials like Pizza Hut's new campaign to be shown during prime time, with Jessica Simpson in some hot red outfit with boobs barely hanging in, butt barely covered, walking down a path with wind blowing her hair back, and singing about these cheese pops in a manner that obviously conveys sex, but forbid the artist who shows any part of the human body in a piece....even though the human body is being treated with more respect in that piece of art than it's being treated in that Pizza Hut commercial. Do you know how much medicine and science owe to Da Vinci? His study of the human body, which includes a ton of drawings, helped make leaps and bounds in the science world. Medicine hardly understood anatomy before him. But was he wrong because he drew "naked people"? Should we shove all his work under a blanket? Do we need to sew a little pair of shorts for Michelangelo's David? Should children not be taken to art museums for fear that they will be exposed to the pitfalls and dangers of !!gasp!! - human bodies?!?? So that's fine, society, just fine.....save your children and families from the perils of figure drawings. Why don't you go see a nice movie and spend some quality family time together instead? I hear Brokeback mountain is great, especially the scene where two men have sex. Or you could go listen to some nice music at a concert and bond that way. I hear Beyonce puts on a great show, especially when she sings Bootylicious. Obviously, obviously, this is the much better choice.

Tweaking

After posting my figure drawing on my favorite figure drawing forum...whoa, alliteration...anyway, I got some good feedback and did some tweaking. Think this looks better now. Here's a new version.

Third Time's A Charm

Can I be more stupid?!? This is the third try at this post. I always check them to make sure my links and all work before I post, and both times, I checked the link I put in here, and then clicked out of the browser, thinking the link was a pop up window and I would go right back to my blog. Not so much. Anyway, in short, here's everything I said:

I woke up this morning and stepped in dog vomit as I got out of bed.

I found a new cd that I really like. Josh Groban. Surprising. I was never a big fan of You Lift Me Up.

It's so cold here that the sliding glass door keeps freezing shut, and to let the dogs in and out, I had to run an extension cord out in the living room and use a hair dryer to melt the ice before I can open the door.

I completed a drawing today. I'm not posting it here because it's a figure drawing and not all appreciate figure drawing as much as I do. If you want to see it, click here. If you don't like figure drawing, don't click there.

I'm So Anal

For my own piece of mind, I just have to say that I will be posting some more art soon.

I Think I'm Going to Puke

So a couple weeks ago, as my step-dad's birthday was approaching (it's tomorrow), I enthusiastically volunteered to make a salmon dinner for him. I really like to cook, and I have never really made any sort of seafood, since neither Jesse or I like it, so I thought "when else will I get to try my hand at seafood?". Well, today is the day. I just got back from the store, where I dropped a buttload of cash (thank God Jesse and I don't like seafood or we'd be broke) on the things I need for the meal. The last thing on my list was the salmon. I got a fresh fillet of wild Alaskan salmon....and I think I am going to puke. Just staring into that little glass area where all those dead fish and lobster and shrimp and squid and eww eww eww....first, I feel bad for the fish. Any food that remains in it's animal shape while being cooked, gives me a really hard time. Plus, those little beady fish eyes just stare at me. And the poor lobsters still alive in the tank. I seriously have to hold back tears when I think about their fate. Not kidding. Anyway, after going into too much thought about all these things while the butcher guy was wrapping my salmon fillet, I had to look away and think about other things...like the bread counter next to me. There's a good food. Bread. No animal shapes. No eyes. It's a good thing. I got back under control and didn't think much about the salmon on my drive home. (I put it in the trunk.) Then I got home, and was unpacking the bags, and the grossness of all grossness...the dang little fillet was leaking fish juice and it got on my hands and dripped onto my socks. Vomit!!! Anyway, that is as far as I have come. I had planned to make extra marinade that I use on the fish to also make some chicken for Jesse and I, as well as my mom, but on second thought, I think I may be going vegetarian tonight. In fact, I think I may be going vegetarian for the next week.

One More Thing...

I found a good link that has some ideas for being an advocate regarding Darfur. (P.S. If anyone wants to send a letter, but doesn't know what to say, e-mail me and I will e-mail you a copy of a letter.)

My Response

So if you've been reading Jesse's blog, which I'm assuming most people who read mine, read his...you know that he has been struggling with the whole issue in Darfur and his responsibility in it. Likewise, for me, this is an ongoing struggle that I've been battling ever since my first knowledge of the reality of satan's manifestation in this world. My initial reaction when I hear more, read more, see more photos, is carnal. My gut instinct wants to see someone go blow the heads off all the Sundanese leaders who are backing the janjaweed, as well as all who call themselves janjaweed. Obviously, this isn't Christ-like. After I move past my initial reaction, comes yet another incorrect view. I move into the "stop all the world" phase. I think everyone should drop what they are doing, and focus all attention to the unjust situation of the moment. This, likewise, would in reality, not be a good move for various reasons. Finally, I go into phase three, which is to the best of my knowledge at this moment, the most biblical. I reach the conclusion that I have to find a way to use my gifts and means, whether directly or indirectly related, whether big or small, to act. It sounds simple, but in actuality, for me at least, is quite difficult. I believe every person is given the gift of prayer, just not everyone chooses to use it. It's a "means" that I have, that I can utilize. I personally believe that if I know about these issues, and don't address them with God, then part of the victims blood is on my head. That is heavy. Really heavy. Especially because I frankly really suck at utilizing the gift of prayer I've been given, even though it's my most powerful, yet easily used, weapon. Not like I need tools or a special location or anything really to pray. Anytime, anywhere, anyway. No excuses. Secondly, I think I need to identify the gifts that are unique to the person that I am. One obvious one for me is art. And again, I am coming to the conclusion that if I fail to use this gift to address the issues on God's heart (which I find hard to believe that Darfur would not be one of them), then I again can be held responsible for mass torture and murder. I really don't like that, but it seems to be slapping me in the face lately. I can't allow myself into the pity party of "I only have art. What can I do with art? If only I were a laywer. If only I were a doctor. If only I were a politician. Then, I could really do something." That is the biggest load of bulls*** that I have ever believed, and continue to believe at times. And a direct insult to God. It's basically telling him that part of his creation is utterly useless, pointless, should have never even been made and sucks. Hm...not a smart thing to say to the Big One, and an extremely lousy excuse for me to basically be selfish and lazy and ignore major injustice in the world. I guess the bottom line of what I'm saying is that every Christian has been given the gift of prayer, therefore, every Christian has power to change the situation in Darfur, no matter where they are, or what they do. And secondly, every person has been given at least one talent unique to them, that allows them to bring a weapon to this war that no one else can. (I'm American...here goes the military analogy.) Do you think any country would win a war with only footsoldiers armed with knives? No way. It would be cruel to send them into battle like that. To win a war, you need footsoliders armed with all kinds of weapons. You need tanks. You need air support. You need naval support. You need administrative support. You need medical support. You need moral support. Likewise, being a part of the body of Christ and not taking action with whatever thing we are good at, is like throwing the brothers and sisters who do choose to use what they have, to the wolves. If only doctors and lawyers and politicians chose to take action in Darfur, because they are the ones who in this case can probably make the most direct impact, I would fear for their lives. They need the support of people like me...who at this point in time, can't make a direct impact, to do my part behind the scenes. Which leaves me with an even heavier burden. If I don't take action with where I am, and what I have, am I not only in part responsible for the victims, but also the aid that goes awry - the plan that doesn't work, the food that never makes it to the starving, the doctors who get turned away at the border? I firmly believe that I cannot have knowledge of a situation like this, do nothing about it, and then face no consequence on the day that I meet Christ. And frankly, God scares the sh** out of me. How could I look into His face and answer Him as to why I did nothing? That is one experience I do not wish to have.

Nothing About Art or Faith...

Jesse left for work a bit early today. It's snowed here earlier this morning and I think the roads are a bit slick, which means the runways probably are too, and they have to de-ice all the planes. It may end up being a long day for Jesse. Thankfully though, he has three days off in a row this week. I think I am looking forward to his time off even more than he is! He used most of his days off to travel this month and I feel like I've hardly seen him, so it will be nice to finally have a couple days with him. His next chunk of time off we hope to head up to Alberta. And even if I end up finding a job and can't get time off, at least Jesse will go. Hopefully I will be in tow as well though. I've been searching high and low trying to find a job that fits with his schedule, but it's been tough. I had one of the worst (in a comical way) interviews I've ever been to a couple days ago. First, it began by them seeing "Nikkel" on my resume. This lady asks if I know Gesha Nikkel. I say no. She says "Well, she lives in the same town as you!" I say, "oh, well, Nikkel isn't my maiden name and my husband is from Canada. We don't really know any Nikkels in this area." She proceeds to tell me that Gesha is not from the US either, and can't believe that I don't know her. I insist that I do not indeed know her and the conversation wraps up. Then, I'm called back to the interview. About two minutes into the interview, (which was in a small office that had one wall of windows that overlook the parking lot), these police sirens start coming within earshot. They get louder...louder....so both the lady interviewing me and I pause and look out the window. We see this old beat up green car with a guy in it speeding down the road toward the building, followed by at least three cop cars chasing him. Then, suddenly, the guy in the green clunker makes a sharp turn into the parking lot. Not a bright move on his park, but I guess maybe he thought they would speed by and he could get away or something. Anyway, the cop cars all enter the parking lot behind him, from various entrances, and do the car maneuvers that you only see in movies where they hit the brakes and turn the wheel, making the car do a half spin to block the road. Needless to say, they get the guy (whose two tires were blown out by this time) and cuff him up, then clear the scene. The interviewer lady then starts making fun of the airport police (the office building I was interviewing at was less than a mile from the airport) and telling me that they have nothing to do and this is all the action they will ever see, etc, etc. Anyway, so we begin into the interview question, which she's asking off a sheet of paper and talking faster than a bullet. So, I match speed and fire the answers right back. Why not, right? You could tell she had been doing interviews all day and was just going through procedure, wanting to get in and out asap. So, we finish the interview and I have to go in and take this computer test. So, I'm sitting at the computer, typing, obviously working on the questions, and this other lady comes up to me who had checked me in. She's like "oh so you have a photography business?", totally starting to make small talk with me while I am working on the computer. So, I pause, turn around, and politely begin to make chatter. She keeps asking about this photo business stuff. So I tell her a bit about it, that my husband is the photog, I just help edit photos, etc. Then, she says "Oh, well is he overpriced just like all the other wedding photographers?". Okay, it's a rude question, but I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, so I smile and say "yes, it is expensive, isn't it" Then she goes on a rant about how ridiculous the prices are and this and that. Excuse me? I'll guarantee you one reason good photographers hike up their prices is to keep clientele like that away, who have the mindset that photographers aren't worth much. You get what you pay for. Photography is an art. You are paying for my husband's talent, which is worth a butt load more than what he charges, plus his time spent darting around straining his back carrying gear to be sure that you never wait on him and he is in every place at the right moment, plus his 10k of gear that he has to insure all year round, plus my time spent pouring over your photos and editing them so that you look good. My husband's product isn't overpriced. Some people are just cheap. Obviously, I said that in a much nicer way, with a smile. Anyway, at this point, I really don't care what answers I'm plugging into the computer, I just want to get out of there. Then, comes the icing on the cake. The room next to me is only about five feet away, with the door wide open. And I hear laughing and this lady talking loudly "She doesn't know Gesha!! Can you believe it? Ha ha ha ha....and they are both foreigners!!!! Ha ha ha ha!!!" Needless to say, I will not be going back for phase two. It was really like an SNL scene or something. In any case, the job hunt marches on. I officially start my classes in early March, so at least I'll have something more to occupy my time starting then. (Hopefully I will also be working by then.) I registered yesterday for classes and was quite excited about it. Maybe this time will actually lead to a degree.

The Meaning of Art

So Jesse and I had a discussion about the meaning of art. After reading my last entry, he asked me "What's God doing in Africa?" and numerous other questions about what I meant by my last post and how it relates to the song. Basically, "How can you say that's about a certain subject when it really doesn't look like it has anything to do with that?" Some art, like many photographs, especially Jesse's, are literal. You can take one look at them and know exactly what they are about. Other art, like the collage, is conceptual. You can take one look at it and not have a clue what it's about. I guess the best I can explain it, is that for me, when faced with overwhelming issues, whether personal, or something huge like the AIDS epidemic, I don't know how to talk with God about it. I don't know what to ask Him, what to tell him. The only way I feel like I can make a dent or change in the issue is to physically move my hands and create something. The collage is about asking God to move there, to sing the song over Africa, to make those words truth for that nation. That's how I can say "this is about Africa", but also why I can't really elaborate on it, because in the movement, in the creating, I don't even know what I was saying to God. It's like when people speak in tongues. I doubt they really know what they are saying sometimes, but they know they are having some deep conversation with God about something important. Anyway, here's a short paragraph I had written in my journal earlier this summer as I was struggling through being an artist. (I was pretty ticked that God gave me that gift instead of something more practical and "useful", like medicine or teaching.) In any case, when I pelted God with "why did you make me like this instead of like this?", these are the words that I believe he put into my mouth and is asking me to believe (which I'm still working on):

My painting is a prayer. It hangs on a wall and never stops beckoning to God. It delights and worships and never ceases to adore the Father. It intercedes on behalf of its viewers. It is beautiful.

Africa, 40 and a Collage

I did this for my KCAI portfolio. A lot of the shadow figures are in vellum (it's a collage), so they may not really show up on a computer screen. In any case, this is a lot about Africa and what God is doing there. I hate to jump on the Bono bandwagon since he's all the rage lately and only a man, but if you know the song 40 (lyrics below), it fits perfectly what my heart and intention behind this piece are in implication to Africa. And if you check out Psalm 40, you will see just where U2's heart is in regard to this song.

I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry
He brought me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song
How long to sing this song
How long...how long...how long...
How long...to sing this song

He set my feet upon a rock
And made my footsteps firm
Many will see
Many will see and fear

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song
How long to sing this song
How long...how long...how long...
How long...to sing this song

A New Place

Jesse has been in DC all week (with his cameras), so I haven't taken any photos of artwork (not that I have any to take photos of at this moment anyway). But, I plan to soon. In the meantime, I am going to bake some cookies and think about traveling somewhere. I feel like it has been so long since I have seen a world outside of my own. I found myself asking God if I could go on another trip a few nights ago. Surprised even myself, but now that the thought is there, it's not really leaving. I remember being in YWAM, and having this sense of wonder that I have never had before. It was like there were no borders on my box. Literally, the world was at my fingertips. Somehow though, I slipped into this mode of thinking with borders all around me. The thought of going to Thailand didn't cross my mind anymore. It's out of my reach...It's not in my daily life...The opportunity isn't there....so it goes off my radar screen and I forget about it. In fact, I forget about nearly everything except the world that I see every day. Recently though, it's as if I've been jarred back into the notion that there is an opportunity everywhere. And "why not?" is suddenly a major part of my vocabulary again. Life is exciting again. This is a good place to be. Ironically, a stable place to be.

Roses

In my life, there have been a small number of things that I have really wanted to do, deep desires within my heart. Some small and seemingly shallow, some large and seemingly deep. They are different than goals in that I never set out to make any of them happen. I never had a purpose or a plan or some big ambition to achieve those desires. Somehow though, despite even myself, I have been able to live the majority of them. And the others, while I really desire them, I don't desire them now in my life. They are desires for my future. One of these desires, kind of a silly and small one, was to redo my mom's house. I don't know why I wanted to so badly, but it was just one of those things. Whenever I would have sleepless nights during our escapades in Texas, my thoughts would center around how to arrange the furniture, what colors to use, what flooring to use. It seems random, and not what I would normally label as a "deep desire in my heart", but yet, it was. Anyway, this past summer, I got that desire. We put in new hardwood floors, painted all the walls, got new furniture and window treatments, the works. The final thing was a large but empty space on the wall that needed a piece of art. We went out and bought a new canvas, but I really had no idea what to put on it. Then I saw this drawing that I had done once when Jesse bought me roses. That gave me the idea for the painting and it is now hanging in my mom's living room. Although it is scheduled to be replaced with another piece of art more fitting to my mom, for now it hangs out on the wall and I like to look at it and see the things in it that I didn't intentionally put there. For example, there is a particular brush stroke that to me, looks just like a person with their hands in the air, praising God. I have even done similar drawings of that very same figure before. Like I said, I didn't put it there on purpose, but now when I look at the painting, it's the first thing my eye goes to. To me, it's an ironic reminder that God is there, even when I don't see Him at the time, and that He really does have a plan and purpose for my life, even when I feel like my actions in life are sometimes aimless and lost. This painting was never meant to be anything deep to me, like some other pieces. It was just something to hang on a wall because we needed some decoration. Aimless, in a sense, no real use. But, much to my surprise, even in my aimless wondering, God shows up.

Two Perfectionists in a Pod

Jesse and I ran out today to run some errands and ended up making an unexpected pit stop at the Nelson-Atkins. They had a photography exhibit going on that Jesse had been wanting to see. Although the total collection they have acquired is roughly 6,500 pieces, they only had a few on exhibit and it ended up being kind of lame compared to what we had expected. But the trip wasn't lost, as we strolled through the exhibit as well as their usual galleries. Looking at many of the paintings, I had to ask myself "If I had done this, would I be satisfied?" There are many pieces that I still stand in awe of each time I see them (this trip included), but I came to a new realization today as I asked myself this question, and surprisingly enough, many pieces I looked at made me spew out an emphatic "no" in my head. For the first time in my life, instead of standing intimidated by other peoples art, crappy or not, I picked apart each piece with the same standards that I pick apart my own. Only a few survived. Not that these artists on display didn't have talent, but I wonder if they were happy with their pieces and would want them displayed. Like how we all study and reproduce Da Vinci's drawings and sketches in his journal. To him, were those really worth displaying, or were they unfinished works, pieces that he would never deem worthy of display? As we strolled through, I whispered some of my thoughts to Jesse. (Those curators standing in each room make me feel like I need to keep my voice in the "library zone".) As we then looked at the photographs, Jesse was having the same thoughts. If that were his photograph, would he say it was good? Would he be proud of it? I think we both realized today that we hold ourselves to near impossible standards with our work. Perfectionists in that way if there ever were ones. Not too sure what either of us will do with this new realization, but it's something to think about nonetheless.

After we looked inside, we walked around outside and took some photos. (Like I knew what I was doing...my photos were all crappy and poorly lit and Jesse's were all sharp and well lit.) Anyway, the photo above is a peek at our afternoon.

"Jesse is Brilliant"

Okay, so here's the follow up to that last entry where Jesse informed me how brilliant he is. I have to say, he is pretty amazing at anything mechanical. It just comes to him somehow. Anyway, although this is maybe more craft than art, here is my latest project (that I couldn't have done without Jesse's help). I love wall mounted lights, but not the commitment that goes along with them, so I thought making a headboard that's extra wide and then mounting the lights to that would be a good solution. I was planning this for our next house. In the middle of that, we decided that it was time to redo my mom's bedroom. So I thought it would be a great test run to make one for their bedroom and see if it really works out or not. Anyway, I had it all pictured in my mind and it was going to be so easy. We bought the material, a piece of mdf to mount it on, batting, and got it all upholstered. Then when it came time to mount the lights, I realized I didn't really think through any of the electrical parts, or where the switches would go and things like that. That's when I handed the project off to "brilliant Jesse". Needless to say, thirty minutes in the garage, and he has delivered the lights fully mounted and working, complete with switches on the sides. Each light even has it's own switch. I think we will definitely be making another one of these for our house. This is going to look kick butt when it's mounted up against the red coral wall. I am proud of this headboard, and my husband too.