It's absolutely fantastic! No, really..it is!

It's all very interesting I reckon...this new-found arty-farty fondness of mine. While I've always been into a nice bit of art from time to time - not that I would consider myself particularly cultured or classy...let's not get rash here - I've always thought of 'art' (well at least the pictorial kind) as stuff what you did wiv paints and pencils and such (even though with the marvel of the Internet one can now upload said art for world consumption). It never occurred to me, however, that one day I would be appreciating stuff that's been done ass-backwards...that is created on a computer and then printed out or put on canvas as required.

But I must confess to being quite taken with this phenomena; after all some of the results are stunning to say the least. But I did entertain the thought that this was somehow cheating? I mean, from what I can gather...photo's are taken and played with to varying degrees until a new 'fantastical' version is produced...complete with new background and sometimes even sparkly/shimmery bits. How hard could that be?

Well after tutuing around with Gimp 2 (An open source [ie free] app similar to Photoshop) it quickly became obvious that the answer was "very." In fact it could get downright diabolical, all this shit ain't no waltz in the park let me tell ya! I mean layers? Pardon? You mean I need to what? And how the hell did they get that cat in there? And as for shading etc, pfft, I didn't even get to that!

So ok, they win, not cheating! I'm thinking I may have to check out some online tutorials now...for no other reason than I'm nosey (and I seriously wanna know about that cat). I mean have you seen some of this stuff! It's amazing! Imagine being able to make that! And considering the performance that goes into making the good stuff I'm more than willing to add my two-cents worth to the praise list and deem it art.

But while we're on the topic, I can't help wondering something else...

Why do we like this stuff so much? I mean dragons, angels, faeries, unicorns....seriously? For some reason these and other fantastical themes all abound, enthralling the general populous no end. Is it the surreal colours perhaps? The scenic backgrounds maybe? Or is it a little more complex than that...

I'm leaning blatant 'escapism' myself (though this doesn't take Freudian brilliance to suggest): a desire to live vicariously, even for a moment, through the minds eye of another - who is obviously a damn sight more skilled at photo manipulation than we are. There's no reading of books or movie plots to follow...just a simple act of gazing and if we feel the vibe, imagining: 'What if I lived there.' 'What if I had a dragon'. 'Wow his abs are amazing!'

Wait...what?

*cough* Sorry

Hang on..don't give me that withering look boys...you can't even begin to tell me you haven't looked - nay perved -  at the boobs and bodies on some of these chicks!...I mean damn, a coupla them have bodies even I'd switch teams for 0.0.

And when you think about it, that may not be such a bad thing...the bodies that is, not the switching teams (though that depends on who you ask I guess). While it is still rare to see a portly faerie, or a rotund angel (excluding cherubs of course), some of them thar warrior women are far from the scrawny articles that saunter up and down our fashion catwalks. In a society obsessed with petite, these examples of a more bulky chiselled female form, are creating a mental shift. An this sits well with me.

I for one have never desired for someone to look at me and say "Wow she's skinny"...I would much prefer a "Man, she looks fit" or better still a "Don't think I'd try pinching her ass at a bar!" Physical fitness breeds a certain unspoken assertiveness that is hard not to respect. they didn't get that way by being a pussy...just sayin'.

So perhaps this fantasy kick of mine is nothing more than my desire to fuel my own power trip. My own journey to the best health my body will allow needs all the inspiration it can get, and what speaks 'personal power' more than a strapping chick wielding a sword that would make Arnold Schwarzenegger think twice.

So maybe one day when I've mastered the finer points of Gimping and have a body that reflects the daily gym sessions I have returned to, it will be my modified tushy in the digital arena for world analysis. I can just see it now *stares wistfully*...thighs of steel, cheekbones you could cut cheese on, and an ass that....well let's not give too much away shall we...

And all on a stunning background; complete with those little touches that make these pictures look so brilliant...slanting light, a bit of water somewhere....and...um...

I know!

A cat!!

:D

It's all in the accessories..

I have a pile of dishes like you wouldn't believe, washing that needs folded and to be honest I probably should change the sheets on my bed.

And here I am blogging

Nice to see I finally have my priorities straight :)

I thought, for today's entertainment, I would my share my shopping experience for the week, which was...well...shopping.

Now shopping is something I normally despise and generally try to avoid at all costs (unless it's sunglasses...I have shitloads of cheapass pairs of them...seriously there's like four pairs just on the dashboard of my car!). But frequently I just don't have the money and when it comes to clothes (as is was the target of this venture) my ass usually won't fit in what I want so I end up in a big blue funk anyway.

But this trip I must say was different. Due to the aforementioned reasons it had been a loooong time since my body had graced the floors of a clothes store with the intention of actually buying something. But you see this was one of those 'girly' shopping trips...a new phenomenon to me, believe it or not...and I was quite feeling the spirit. There were four of us in total...ie, just enough to be dangerous, and I was driving - complete with my four pairs of sunglasses on the dash - much to the amusement of my passengers.

And I even got into the whole trying things on and coming out and parading around like a demented supermodel (I'm suspecting a mid-life crisis coming on here, but hey) and was actually rather pleased with results! We are all off to the big smoke soon to see a mate's gig so were working on our rock chick look. I can still work a little black dress quite nicely I'm pleased to say AND can control a pair of heels at the same time. I can even do it with alcohol on board if required though it's less pretty so it's good I rarely drink and am usually the sober driver.

And yes, after the dresses, even shoes were involved...though in my case to rescue my poor damn feet coz I had gone shopping in the heels I wanted to match to the dress!....Dumbass!

But this is where I made my most awesome purchase of the day. After finding my shoes...that seriously had a strap arrangement that required an engineering degree to operate...I took them to the counter, accompanied by my posse to be greeted by a lovely young behind the counter. She was most pleasant I must say....I mean she smiled, was conversational and polite as she bagged my purchase...

And she even took the time to draw my attention to the bin of $5 sunglasses I had missed....

Now that's customer service that is.

A God of small things.

It's no secret that I tend to over-analyse my world just a tad. Not like Stephen Hawking level or anything...but I have given parts of it a damn good Dr Philling from time to time let me tell you. It fascinates me...and people fascinate me. We're odd little creatures: humans, so complex; and figuring out why we do some of the daft-ass things we do can be quite the journey...but I'm starting to see a pattern emerge.

And I am part of it.

My life hasn't always been a box of fluffies...it's the way it goes...and to be honest the present situation isn't exactly how I'd like it either....but I am slowly changing it; and for now at least, I have enough; but since investigating this page business I have discovered I am also not alone. There seems to be a number of personality types (of which I am obviously one) inhabiting the little corner of the Internet that I frequent; none better or worse than the other, each just different and this where things get interesting.

When you start out in the world of page ownership/administration you have to decide pretty damn quick who you are. It was all very well and good me..... >.<....hang on....

F**sake, I have to go get the flyspray...brb

Bahahahaha!! Take that you little winged sods!!

Hehehe...right, where was I? Oh yes...personality and such. I had to decide what I wanted to put out to the masses...how did I wish to define myself...what did I want to share. I had seen enough other pages to know the options....there were funny ones, venting ones, politically/issue oriented ones, sexual ones, feel good ones, and blog/stream of consciousness ones....well I'm way too random to be anything other than the latter.

But there seems to be a particular type that choose this option...the ones who have dealt with a myriad of crap over a long period of time and feel comfortable dealing with just about anything. Now this will not be the case 100% of the time...nor will admins of other pages not have necessarily had to deal with their share of God knows what....but it seems bloggers have learned to tap into the everyday and make something a little new of it, have become their own Gods of small things if you like. And this is something curious to me.

That is not to say that other pages aren't of equal value...I mean who doesn't enjoy having a damn good laugh just for the hell of it! Or reading the venting or kinky stuff that you probably wouldn't put on your own profile. And we all love a little positive thinking every once in a while. These pages are necessary to human survival! Or is that just mine?

Anywho, I can't help feeling that it's the bloggers who tie it all together somehow; epitomizing the randomness of the Internet, putting a single life on show for all the world to see. It's like an epic saga being written in front of you complete with illustrations. And while there are certain genres of blog (the Mum/Mom one for example springs quickly to mind), bloggers inherently aren't particularly theme bound...free as the proverbial winged thing (no not a fly!) to go off on whatever tangent they choose.

And we frequently do. Funny one minute, inspiring perhaps the next...and a bit of naughty thrown in for good measure. This freedom is both liberating and probably dangerous somehow. My father always said I should never be let loose on the town....now I have the entire World Wide Web at my disposal to inflict upon my ever growing audience! Shit a brick and fart a crowbar...the potential is endless Jimmy! X-) *rubs hands together with glee.*

But ultimately it's about degrees of exposure...how much do you know about yourself and how much are you willing to share. What makes you tick, what are you passionate about, what would you put your ass on the line for. What are your limits, what drives you, what inspires you, what breaks you. It's quite the arsenal to unleash on your psyche let it be said.

So how am I going with all this? Have I indeed cracked the Tigress code and worked out just who she is? Well lets just say...as with real human beings...she's a work in progress ;-)

Cancer and other hilarity

I'm a happy wee Tigress at the moment :)

Not that I'm not normally a fairly jovial person, but a phone call yesterday morning gave me reason to feel just that extra bit spiffier.

You see my tit seems to have stopped trying to kill me.

Back in October of 2010, things were a tad different. At the age of 36 I was diagnosed with a Grade II invasive ductal carcinoma of the left breast: ie breast cancer.

I wasn't amused.

And I mentioned this to the registrar who was enlightening me of my plight. I stipulated before they even had a chance to present the options that I would like it removed at the earliest opportunity thank you very much indeed. Yes I'm happy with the risks surgery...no I don't give a rat's ass that there will be scarring (hell I wanted something to show for all this!). Just get it out. Now.

They were most obliging and whipped the offending ball of cells out nary a week later. (Didn't get the boob job I wanted though damn it. You know, the nice sheepdog operation: rounds 'em up and points 'em in the right direction...*sigh*..oh well lol) But they were efficient and I like that in a hospital. And none this having to be insured business...this is New Zealand...it was free...well a-la the New Zealand tax payer type free anyway.

What I also liked was that because my tumour was caught early (I didn't want to get out of the shower one morning so examined my boobs for a bit...smart move as it turns out), I only needed radiation and no chemotherapy....I have hair past my shoulder blades...and was fully resigned to lose the lot, so, yeah, was pretty chuffed about that.

A wee word about radiation by the way...if you've got sizeable tatas, they're gonna burn. And we're not talking a gentle rosy glow here; we're talking blistering and raw by the end of your six weeks fun and games. But there is no point letting such things dampen one's spirit...and to be honest, the shock value is awesome!

"Oh, hey, how are you?"
"Aw yeah, not too bad."
"So where are you working now?"
"Oh, I'm not working at the moment, I've just had breast cancer so just doing the radiation and stuff."

(Y'know..casual as...but then - they pick their chin up off the floor - you can go in for the kill with the visuals. It was summer at the time I was having my treatment so just strappy type tops were the go. And they didn't start trussing me up like a turkey till right at the end so all I had to do was lift my arm and you could see some of the fabulous effects of the radiation down part my side.)

"Oh wow!! That's major!! How are doing with all that??"
"Ah, it's a pain in the tit t'be honest..here, check this out."

The facial expressions were brilliant. Best part of the whole cancer I'd say. Can't say I'd recommend the complete experience though - give that a miss if you can...what with the whole life-threatening component and all. I tried it, didn't like it, sure as hell don't plan on doing it again.

But it does change you, something like this. Here I am, 16 months later, damn lucky, with a whole new respect for life; I am much more forgiving and don't sweat the small stuff nearly as much as I used to. But that's not to say the small things don't matter too. Indeed the smallest things you say and do may also be the most powerful, and you just never know when karma is gonna cock her eyebrow at you and call you on one of them.

For example, I used to frequently gasp: "I'd give my left one to see that!"

I don't say that any more...

You know...just in case.

*Sigh*

It's just all a bit much, I must say.

Now I'm all for the preservation of intellectual property; I mean it's only fair that some poor bugger who traipses out into the middle of the Sumatran jungle, risking life and limb, should get full props for his photographic efforts. But how does someone who doesn't have much in the way of access to jungles and such, get their sticky little hands on a photo of the jungle dwelling creature she requires...in my case, a tiger?

To be honest I can acquire tiger pictures no trouble...and even for free providing I give credit, that ain't the issue. The problem I have is how I'm allowed to use 'em. Sticking with the 'free' option, I am allowed to modify certain pictures and add text etc, and even use them as a profile picture...which is all jolly spiffy; should I require something that I would like slap on a T-shirt or coffee mug however, then we start getting into 'Extended licence' territory, which must be purchased....and again I have no problem with this...I mean it wasn't my ass at risk of perforation as the photo was being taken now was it. The problem I have is, even if I purchase said license, I still can't legally make the image my official logo.

So what this means is, if Tigress takes off like a rat up the proverbial drainpipe...some little sod is still going to come after me for copyright infringement, I can bet my middle finger...I mean claw, on it.

This poses quite the dilemma: how, pray tell, do I get my hands on a picture of a four legged stripy feline without pissing someone off and quite possibly landing myself at the mercy of the criminal justice system?

There is but one solution that I can see...I need to either draw/design my own...or have someone do it for me.

This is a work in progress. For now I am legal.

Why couldn't I have made it "The Musings Of A Chicken" or something. At least I could have photographed one of those damn things myself!