As the crane flies

January 16, 2012 9:05 AM

Posted by Jei D. Marcade

0 comments

Love folding origami cranes but have no place to put 'em? Itching to drop a truth and beauty bomb but have no idea where to start? You're in luck: one of the coolest people I know is getting married this summer, and has requested that a thousand cranes be in attendance! I've volunteered to fold a few (standard/6"x6"-sized), and you can, too!

Q: Dillema: origami cranes are unable to fly long distances. How will mine reach the awesome Sarahtron in time to witness the grand event? 
A: It's true that their wee paper wings tire quickly and are vulnerable to harsh weather. Fret not; the USPS can give them a ride! So if you're in the IC area, feel free to get in touch with me, and I'll mail yours along with mine sometime in the late spring or early summer. Otherwise, you can e-mail me and/or contact Sarah and Joe for the address*.

Q: But Jei, origami cranes are puffy and somewhat ungainly to transport. How can I mail them without causing them injury?
A: Ah, yes, the paper crane's delicate beauty can also be its downfall. However, if you stop just short of the step in which you angle its neck and tail and inflate it, it will be much more amenable to mailing. See:


Q: I should have probably mentioned this earlier, but I'm new to the art of folding things out of other things. Can you show me what to do?  
A: Here's how I do it:
source: Flint Hahn

Real A: Well, okay, maybe it's a little more like this:





Happy folding!

* This probably goes without saying, but just in case you happen to hail from one of the creepier corners of the Wired: Should you find yourself tempted to abuse this information, pause for a moment to contemplate how much you would regret the rashness of that decision when I skin your face and make you eat it**. 

** I hail from a creepy corner, too.

On books, art, and tasty resolutions (and no I am not referring to the cannibalism kthx)

January 4, 2012 4:43 PM

Posted by Jei D. Marcade

2 comments

Hello, World. It appears to be 2012. 
(I've noticed that some of you have been wishing each other a happy Year of the Dragon. Not to be a downer, but that won't come for another couple of weeks, as the Lunar New Year does not coincide with the calendar's. Until then, we Rabbits still reign!)


I've resolved to keep better track of what I read this year, and to cut down on re-reads. I promise that I won't bore you with constant updates, but here be a couple to start out the year:


My friend Martha alerted me re: a comic called Chew by John Layman and Rob Guillory. The protagonist is a cibopath, which means that he gets psychic impressions from things that he masticates, which in turn helps him solve crimes. And as he tends to wind up with cases involving murder, his diet has become a little... unsavory. (I suspect that this is a large part of what convinced Martha that this would be right up my alley.)





Another notable thing about the protag is that he is Asian American. You know how I know? One: because of his name, John Chu. Two: because of his coloring and facial features. 


That's it.


Keep in mind that I've only read the first volume; I suppose it's entirely possible that Chu starts fighting crime with crazy kung fu whilst simultaneously playing the violin with his toes and speaking in fortune cookie aphorisms in subsequent installations. Perhaps he will live in a dojo and have a mother who communicates with white people by screeching at them in her native tongue. 


But so far, so good.


The other day, I was trawling through the fantabulous Jason Chan's website (which has since vanished from the Wired :<) when I came across some cover art that he's done for some books (including Sarah Prineas's v. recently released Winterling), not to mention recent art for Magic: the Gathering. Ellen Potter's The Kneebone Boy caught my eye, and I picked up a copy. 



I just finished it this afternoon and am absolutely smitten. It is a terribly delightful, sad, sweet, and generally lovely book full of adventure and imagination and wit, and I recommend it even if you're not between the ages of nine and sixteen (I'm not).


In unrelated news, Joe has resolved to cook more, and rustled up an epic dinner of gruyere and mushroom quiche, California Waldorf salad, and "Aaasian coleslaw" last night. He used the leftover buttermilk to make a pile of buttermilk pancakes today. I've had a damn fine year so far. How about ye?


Cheers,

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