Reflections of 2007

Given today's title, I was going to post a photo of myself using a hand mirror, but then I remembered...I don't cast a reflection so it would be a waste of bandwidth.


Another year, by our calendar, has passed. How is everyone? Are we ready?

This has been a great year of discovery for me. I lost some things I cherished, including what I thought was a really good friendship, and what I knew was a good car. My car was totaled in an accident, and the friendship... well, some people are with you more for what you can do for them than because they really care about you. It is a very hard lesson to learn.


But the blessings are that I recovered from my accident, and I did not succeed in letting loss destroy me. I moved through it. I'm very thankful for that. And one of the avenues by which I was able to move through it was the arts and crafts avenue. Like the arts and crafts movement at the turn of the 20th century, the movement that heated up at the turn of this century is about the handcrafted endeavors of individuals, independent of corporate, industrialized structure. It calls on the will of the artist to get in touch with the creative fire within, in order to bring forth 'the real deal'. It's also strengthened me to take responsibility for choices I make and the control I can exert over the process. To welcome happy mistakes. This is what I found to be healing about crafting. I wanted a feeling of control and community at a time when I felt out of control and at odds with everything around me. Now, the process of learning what inspires me, what is meaningful to me, and what I can achieve, have given me a renewed appreciation for all the wonderful people in my life.

But enough about you.


One of the things I love about this crafty community is how welcoming people have been. As a newbie, I have been foundering around, making mistakes, throwing my work (some good, some mediocre, some kinda-icky) out there and getting supportive responses. If I ask for advice, I always get it. From super-busy Michael Demeng to Superwoman Michelle Ward, from Sister Diane of Craftypod, to my beloved BadBabyArt sisters, I can ask any question and get a response within minutes. Granted, when requesting cash, I don't often get the response I was hoping for, but I get one, and that's the point. People are out there, and even if they are across the world, they are only an email away. And they, too, are passionate about the art-y process.


And apparently, they like it when I use them shamelessly. So I've found my home.



This year has been fabulous for me in terms of sheer inspiration. Go here. Or, here. Or, here. And you can find interesting and lovely things (even though they aren't naughty), right there on the page!



By the way, look at this!
Oh, don't tell me you haven't dreamed of that. But you thought it didn't exist. Well... it does. And Laurie Mika made it happen. It wasn't here before.


And if you aren't sure what to do with yourself, go here. Jeffrey Yamaguchi thinks he's so smart. And he happens to be right. Listen to him, and save yourself from the mundanity!

((Intermission))

This year, I've been coming to terms with my mortality. The terms I put on the table are: I'll close my eyes, mortality will quietly leave the room, and no questions will be asked.

(Mortality giggled. So, we're still coming to terms.)

Even with one foot in the grave, exploring new frontiers is exciting. Even the technological frontiers. I'm the opposite of a tech-head. Which would be a hcet-head, but, like Spock's last name, it's unpronounceable. I'm loving the podcast! You listen to the podcast? Oh, you people. The podcast is DA BOMB! Let's say you are on the Crafty Chica's website. And you suddenly want to know what she sounds like. BLAM! download her podcasts. Did you think Laurie Mika's tabletop mosaic is neato?

She made it for us on Craft Lab. So go listen to the Crafty Chica podcast interview with the host of Craft Lab. And listen to Jennifer Ackerman-Haywood interviewing Carol Duvall on her podcast. It's fun! You sew, do you? Check out Sister Diane's interview with the founders of Burdastyle! It's all here. Here, without commercial interruption. Without corporate manipulation and undue influence, even from me!

And you have to admit, that's rare.

But, speaking of the rush of time, what I wasn't ready for was this: hearing wonderful craft professionals bemoaning the fact that they aren't young any more. That they have struggled with career choices and career paths, and now they feel so late to the party. It's refreshing. It's refreshing to know that other people have struggled with their places in this world, and have found a home and some nourishment in the art world. After all, they're already in their forties!! Some of them have tragically wasted their college years! Oh, if only they hadn't procrastinated to find their twenties almost gone! Turning 30 really turns your head around!!

Well, with that perspective in mind, and if I can manage to keep my tired, wrinkled, 51-year-old body upright, I'm going to go now, and spray my stencils, just like these were sprayed by a woman a decade younger than I :



Isn't it cool? And in the end, the most surprising thing about all this is that I don't seem to care as much about age, now. It's okay that some of these very accomplished artists are in their twenties, or that they are upset that they are already in their thirties and forties, and they have so much more they want to do. Surprisingly to me, it doesn't matter what the clock of my life says. The whole point of all this is the process. The process of seeing life, valueing life, and recording it, ordering it visually, giving it a second life, and bringing a bit of yourself to play.

Just love the process. Even I'm not too old to learn that.

To all my great friends, near and far, I wish you a wonderful new year. Thank you for sharing your lives with me.

There's A Tree In the Grand Hotel!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!

Go to Scout's page, and look at the picture of our Trees In A Box. Aren't they cool? We forewent (past tense of forego, doncha know) the usual tree and have a couple of these up. I tried the origami ornament thing, and by the end of the process, I had to fashion myself a tourniquet.

Always learn new things, that's my motto!

Better Watch Out

Don't forget to give to yourself, too.

Tins Eleven

AHA!!

YOU thought it couldn't be done! But I did it!

I got pictures of one of my altered tins, and now I can post them! The top is covered with a napkin, some embossed Fa La La's, and the inside is a winter scene with a packing tape image transfer, some cotton, decorative paper, and a sticker. Inside the lid (not pictured) was a small greeting card that can be opened to prop up the lid. The card's got some doohickies on it and signed with good wishes.

They were all different, and there were eleven of them. I was going to make one for everyone, but the doctor told me I had metal shards in my cornea and lead in my lung tissue, and that I had an sudden, strange, magnetic attraction for paper clips and staples. And I thought all the stuff I had to pick off my clothes all the time just meant that I had gotten too busy for my usual neatness.

In the abject boredom facing me after this altered tin project, I dived into an altered birdhouse project. We had procrastinated and hadn't decorated the house for the holidays. So, I altered a birdhouse, thinking it might perk up the home. Here are pictures.







I was lucky enough to have some old greeting cards from the 40's, and I used this image of birds and holly berries, and of a street lamp with sign. The perching birds are polymer clay (made all by myself).

I was so thrilled by the fact that I'd gotten away with this alteration, I decided to alter another one.



This is Hummingbird Haven, using a sunflower napkin, a polymer clay hummingbird (crafted by moi), some paint and glaze, hanging embellishments, rub-ons, and puffy letter stickers.

I love the colors of this napkin, and it took a while to get the golden yellow color I wanted to paint the roof. It's hard to see the true color of the yellow with these exposures, but I liked how spring-y it looked in the midst of winter.



I felt I should post some current work, to prove I wasn't sitting around watching Martha Stewart and eating pie.

Well, that's not all I was doing.

Now it's Miller time.

Holiday Tracking

Say what you will, you have to admit you love tracking your packages. Come on! You can admit it! There are more shameful things to love. At least I am ashamed.

So, I ordered a Christmas Tree In A Box. Assembly is required, apparently. I'm all about assembly. Unless it's cold in there, then if it's cheerleader day, I'm not going. Because that skirt's too darn short and those knee socks don't do a thing to keep your knees warm.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah! So, I said to myself: I gotta get this. Who doesn't love a Christmas tree that doesn't dry out and catch on fire, burning down the house? So, I ordered this thing, and waited for my notification from Barnes and Noble that it had been shipped.

A week passed. What the heck? I can't afford to wait a WEEK! It's Christmastime! I need action now! What if I don't get action?!

I knew Jeanette had ordered the same tree. So I asked Jeanette: when's your tree shipping? She said, it hasn't shipped yet.

Oh, we knew what this meant. Because we shop at Trader Joe's. We knew that this meant that Barnes and Noble once offered the tree kit, but it since sold out, and now they didn't have any and wouldn't be getting any, and they were struggling for a tactful way to tell us we'd have to wait until Easter for our Christmas Tree In A Box. Have a nice day.

So, I had my response all ready. I composed it in my head. It went: 'Look, Buster. It's bad enough that you're calling it a Christmas Tree In A Box. What if I want the tree, but I don't celebrate Christmas? HUH? Have you heard nothing about this? That you're not supposed to even CALL it a Christmas tree? So there's your first offense.'

My next paragraph went something like this: 'Now, you get that box of whatever it is, and you send it over here now. And for what I paid for it, it better have a manger scene in it, too. And I want ALL the wise men. Not just Lemuel.'

In my head, this response read like genius. I felt it covered all the bases.

Then, first thing the next morning, before I could even send them a threat to say I was sending them a snotty letter, I'd received an email from Barnes and Noble (aka: Buster). They were packing my order! I was so excited!

Then a few minutes later, I received another urgent alert. My order was on the verge of shipping!

It was incredible! Soon, I would have my own Christmas Tree In A Box!

A couple of hours later, I got another notice. My order was about to ship, and if I wanted, I could even track it.

I started to feel uneasy. Why did they keep writing to me? Was there something wrong? Maybe there was something wrong, and they were just trying to cover for the fact that they didn't have my tree and they never would have it, and they were sending, instead, a to-scale replica of their newest super-store in Glendora, suitable for framing.

In spite of my eager anticipation, I was feeling a bit urpy.

I contacted Jeanette. I said, Jeanette, I have a question. And she said, who is this?

I said, I keep getting notices repeatedly from Barnes and Noble, all saying the same thing! What does it mean?!

And here's what she told me:

You clod. Everyone knows how this works. In fact, if you'll simply refer to your Barnes and Noble Email Notification Sequence Standards, it's all there, in black and white:

1) Thank you for your order!
2) Your order has been scheduled to ship
3) Your order has been packed and is ready to ship
4) Your order has been shipped
5) Your order is on the truck!
6) Your order is in Des Moines while your driver enjoys a meal, some meth, and the services of Brittani, one of the truck stop girls
7) Your order is on the highway between Chilecothe and West Bend and is currently being crushed by a Harry and David Ham of the Month
8) Your order is approaching L.A. County!
9) Dear Customer: Sorry for the inconvenience; the truck carrying your order was hurled into a ditch by a Santa Ana
10) Your order is back on the road!
11) Your order was accidentally delivered to the front porch of a militia compound in Lancaster
12) We hope you've enjoyed shopping with us!


So.

I feel much better.

Festivitism

It's been awhile since I posted any of my artwork. There's a reason for that! If I post it, the people who are getting it would see it. You don't want foreshadowing at this point. I mean, when sending handmade cards. For one thing, it makes the receiving of the card anti-climactic. And for another thing, if the recipient sees the card in advance, there's the whole 'Return To Sender' thing that happens.

No warning, that's my motto.

Instead, I'm posting for you here a picture of what my weekend was like:

This was my Saturday evening and Sunday morning, in Banning, California. Actually, this picture was taken last year, but I wasn't in Banning last year when it snowed. And when I was there this weekend, I didn't have my camera. It was the same view this year, and it looked like this. Except for the part where I slid to my car and almost broke a hip.

Since you like this so much, here are some lovely shots of villages I've seen at Christmas!

Aren't these places lovely?!

I thought you might like them.

I certainly did when I went to Google images and downloaded them.

Okay, well, I'm going to go water my palm plants. Our air conditioning seems to be drying them out.

I hope you all are having a great holiday season. Remember to hug your friends and family!

Longer than Atonement

Okay, so I went to this marvy blog today, and if you aren't scared to scroll down (because honestly, sometimes you guys are just too busy reading People magazine or watching that dance show, to be bothered looking at something neato), you will find a picture of an art book that's out of print. So sad! And the bloggist tells us that she bought the last two. EXTINCT! That book is extinct, now. Extinction should never happen to cool books!

I have to share with you today a series of art books that I've been remiss in not having shared before. In fact, I would hazard to say that I'm sure the main reason you visit my humble little web journal is specifically to read information about this art book series, and you've had to wait all this time for me to bring it up.

So, with no further ado, here it is:

Spectrum. The series of The Best In Contemporary Fantastic Art, issued yearly. Hundreds of book cover art, magazine art, sculptures and paintings by the best artists of the fantastic. Gorgeous. Even if you don't do art, you should ask for one of these for the holidays!

Trust me! I'm not a doctor!!

((Intermission))

Now, if I've taught you anything, I've taught you to start every morning with this, to get a sense of what you should be thinking about. And now that I've thought about it for 4 minutes, I've decided to go ahead and share the story of where in the world I'm from.

I'm from Kansas City, MO.

The End.

I don't have very many memories of childhood, and those I have are not very vibrant. But I do remember that the transition from Kansas City, MO, to Santa Monica, CA, was not the culture shock everyone imagines it would be. For some reason, I imagined that everything was bright and clean and new in California. And I did eagerly anticipate seeing the ocean for the first time, and going to Disneyland. But the reality is that, even in the mid-Seventies, major metropolitan areas were basically the same. Busy, noisy, filled with entertainment options, and pollution. I was surprised, really. I don't know what I expected, but I expected something really different. I was fifteen, and I thought everything would change when I got here. Life would be faster and people would be happier and there wouldn't be as many messy places. In fact, I was so naive that, one of the major memories I have is of being surprised that the same songs were being played on the radio and the same shows were on television. I don't know why I thought they'd have different songs and different television and different movies. But I was fifteen. What did I know? Like Missouri, California was playing Maggie May, and showing All In the Family.

What, couldn't California come up with its own stuff?

I loved California, though. I loved that it was not humid in May. I loved it that I didn't have to scrape ice off the windshield or slip and fall on my butt when I walked to school. I loved it that everyone looked to California for what was cool. Even if, contrary to what California thought, there was the same cool going on in Kansas City. The world was already a very small place, even in 1972. But I do remember thinking how much cooler the hippies were, here. I guess one thing Kansas City didn't have much of was hippies. A few. But they were an anomaly. Here, they were everywhere. It was super groovy.

One thing that really sent me back to the time when I was a teenager in Los Angeles, was the Gypsy Bonfire story now posted over on Lisa Hoffman's site. Even if my life wasn't much like the author's, she certainly inspired fond memories.

Next up: Chris writes a blog post longer than Lord of the Rings, gets published, goes on a tour of New Zealand, and is rightfully imprisoned for plagiarism.

No. Not 'Burka'. But nice thought.

It's Street Team Time!!

I love this time, don't you? Michelle Ward has single-handedly established a fabulous forum for artists to share their works and, also, to win big prizes, like cars and villas in Tuscany. More importantly, by working on her crusades, we artists and crafters can network with one another, share ideas, and feed our creativity by working within the themes she gives us each month. Jump over there and see some of the cool stuff people have been creating. And I'm here to throw some of my pottery onto the wheel.

Oh, sure. It's the last possible moment in time for submitting this month's work, but I came through, that's the important thing.

Okay, sure. I didn't actually go so far as to complete a project for the crusade. But I thought a lot about it, that's the important thing.

And, sure. Some people worked hard, finished their projects, and turned them in some time before the last hour of the last day of the crusade. But it's the intention that counts, right?

Boy.

You people are tough.

All wit and excellent dance styling aside, I am really sad that I didn't have time to submit the work I'd intended for this crusade, because it's a great theme! And in addition to all the muses on my list from early this month, one of the people who inspire me is Jacek Yerka. I tell you, I'm all up in that guy right now.

Now, I realize he's all over the place, and his stock is stratospheric, and if you see one more Jacek Yerka teeshirt, you think you might just soil yourself. But even though his work is ubiquitous, I think you'll agree that he's no hack. His work is inspirational to me. The vibrancy of color and the intricacy of detail lend his surrealist works a haunting, almost poignant quality. Take a gander at this picture. In fact, go ahead and take a goose at it:


















Oh. There's more where that came from, my friend.

Finding myself in the throes of Yerka-mania, I did aspire to create something that might even begin to evoke the awe and mystery his paintings do. And, being a lover of mosaics, I thought it would be cool to create a paper mosaic inspired by Yerka. So I decided to make a covering for a box, using paper mosaic panels. I've since copyrighted the idea, so don't try it at home.

But, alas, my dream did not reach fruition. To attest to my attempt to create this box, while at the same time, not knowing how to actually do it, I'm providing a photo. I took a few of his works and made paper mosaics out of them and mounted them on heavy card stock. And I was going to decorate a plain box with them. But after I made them, I realized the dimensions were all wrong. So then, I decided to make a wall hanging out of them. But by that time, I was too exhausted by disillusionment and the eating of banana moon pies, to paint a background for the hanging. I mean, it's hard work taking other people's paintings and cutting them into little pieces.

So, here's the work-in-progress, mounted on a piece of scrapbook paper, to fashion the concept of a wall hanging:



Incredibly life-like, you say?

Thank you.


Next: Chris completes her first 100 inchies, and then visits a hamstring injury specialist.

New Time For Sergeants

Hi.

I have no sergeant pictures to show you. I don't even have any stories of sergeants. I know a sergeant, but if I told you stories about her and her guns, I'd be in big, big, BIG trouble. But of course, she's more than her guns. Yes. I'm sure she is.

My point is, I just liked the title. New Time For Sergeants. Get it? That old movie with Andy Griffith?

hahahAHAAA!! Clever pun!

But why did I call?

Oh, yeah. I have New Work to show! Yes! It's happened!! I finished some stuff!

So, here they are. Don't all push and shove, there's plenty of room for everyone to see.















THESE pretty little ladies are three ATCs for the November ATC swap. Just a modest application of holiday napkin, silver and red glitter, and tattoo dots.
















And these babies are six lovely rolodex cards for the Victorian Christmas swap in my art group. If they appear blurry in places, that's because I framed the pictures with cotton, and that's how it photographed.

So, there you have it. I always mean to make one extra of everything I do, and then, in the midst of the process, my fingers get glued together and I get woozy from fumes and the dog starts to dry heave trying to get the shards of glitter out of her throat. In short, it's just so much fun I forget to make extra.


Next up: Chris buys a wind machine.

No Country For Old Men

See this movie!
No, it's not a feel-good film. But it's fabulous.

Flagrant Foundering

I was walking Scout, and listening to a Craftypod podcast, an interview with the Burdastyle women. It was a lovely interview and I was enjoying it quite a bit. And then I experienced a weird deja vu. Not the usual deja vu that's not weird, no. A weird one.

The women of Burdastyle were talking about their site and their training. About how accessible their non-copyrighted patterns are and how malleable the patterns are to each sewer's creative whimsy. I'm not a sewer. But as I was listening to those women talking about the creative process and the joy of individual vision, I felt myself becoming uncomfortable in a familiar sort of way.

(Not in a bizarre Criminal Minds type of way, where I turn around and the latest serial killer throws a plastic bag over my head. sheesh. I mean, I can do that all by myself. And have.)

No, I found myself, yet again, feeling afraid of my own creativity. Deja vu!

You see, last night, I pretty much wrapped up the matchbox advent calendar project. A fairly fixed, step-by-step project that has rules, and is done when it's done. Here are the results.

(Tablecloth not included.)

Each drawer is filled with sayings and/or treats and/or trinkets. It was fun to do.

But that doesn't mean I'm done! Oh, no. I have a ton of stuff to work on, and I'm glad about that. Most of the projects have firm parameters. But, now that I've finished a fairly involved project, I'm embarking on a scary thing. Because in order to begin work on the next projects, I have some foundation work to do. And that involves having a vision, and then making it work. (Tim Gunn for: 'don't cop out'). Which, in the case of these projects, begins with making backgrounds.

Here, by the way, is the work table as it will look in some way or another for the next three days, at least:

So, in the course of thinking about these backgrounds, I had decided to start listening to the podcast, because I was hoping it would give me the inspiration I felt I needed. By 'inspiration', I mean, 'courage'. Because, for some strange reason, regardless of the years of striving to create art in one form or another, I can't seem to face a blank page or a blank project or a non-regimented task, without a deep sense of dread and the desire to run to a store and buy a lot of crap I don't even need, just to avoid the fear.

My latest purchase:

'Nuff said.

Those of you who've had to listen to me prat on (British for: 'to blather ad nauseum (Latin for: 'to invoke vomitousness) about stuff no one else is interested in') about the trauma attendant in writing the novel, know that the unfettered creative project makes me plotz (Harriet M. Welsch for: 'wretch').

So, feeling a quietly rising but undeniable sense of panic, I realized my mind was beginning to look for any alternative to returning home and facing the stencil, the brush, the paint, the canvas, the watercolor paper, the spray paint can, or even the weird mass of cobweb accumulating under the settee out on the patio, threatening to affix it firmly to the concrete.

To make a short story long, I walked Scout round and round the park, pondering all this, and I really felt that the best thing to do would be to chronicle it here, send it out into the universe (meaning: to my one reader, you faithful thing, you), and consider my fears appropriately expunged so that I can go right ahead and throw stuff onto surfaces and make mistakes. But they will be uniquely MY mistakes. Which, as the two of us know, can have a brilliance all their own.

Next up: Chris points the spray can in the wrong direction.

Mona

Here's what I just finished for another artist's Mona Lisa journal:

It's hard to see, but at least it proves I did something.

Next up: Chris takes a bad picture of the shower tile.

No Time For Blather.

It has been so long since I've blogged that I forgot my sign-in information. I had to go to the back of the line, fill out the form in triplicate, and be thumbprinted. And of course, they had me take off my shoes, but then everyone asked if I would please put them back on.

Anyway, I always feel that I have to post photos of my artwork in order to blab here, but I don't have anything to post. And I thought, what's the problem? I can do what I want! If I'm going to pay no money to do this, I'm going to get what's coming to me!

I've seen about half of this movie:

The reason I've seen half (in just two installments!) is because I have to do everything in small increments these days. I can't seem to find the time to finish much. I DID complete a couple of pages for a Mona Lisa book for someone in my art group, but then I didn't have time to take a picture of it. I'll do that later. Because it's brilliant, as usual, and I wouldn't want you to miss out.

This movie is amazing. It's a visual feast. Don't think you've seen it all, because you haven't seen anything. I recommend you watch it just to marvel. I haven't gotten to the end, yet, so I might have to throw it across the room, but that's just because I'm kind of particular about endings. But you probably won't have to do that, because I can tell you don't really care how things end, as long as there's something in it for you.

What was I talking about?

Oh, yeah. So, the other night, all by myself, in the dark... I watched The Hills Have Eyes on fast-forward with the sound off.

It's a good thing I did, because if I'd watched it the usual way I would have lost my mind. Even with everything silent and speeded-up, I was so jittery when I finished watching it that I just knew I couldn't get to sleep. And even if I did take two seconals and pass out, I'd have the worst nightmares. So, I just lay there, thinking about tissue and bones. I tried to think of a pink elephant, but that didn't even help.

Then I remembered that I had another DVD, The Holiday. Now, normally, I wouldn't rent The Holiday, because Cameron Diaz is kryptonite to my species. And I'm already Endangered. However, I thought that I'd ordered The Last Holiday, starring Queen Latifah. Who, as you know, can come over to my house any time to borrow some sugar. So I opened up The Holiday and put it into the DVD player, and found out it was the one with Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet. You know, the Kate with the mole. But the music was so peppy, and the screen was so bright and cheery, with not even a hint of blood. mutants, or poor dental hygiene, that I decided to start playing it in the hope that it would ease my ragged nerves enough to get me to sleep.

And it was actually quite good! Not good enough to keep me awake, but good enough to make me believe in the irrational again. So I nodded off and had no bad dreams whatsoever!

Right now I'm working on, among other things, the Martha Stewart original M is for Matchbox Advent Calendars for my nephews. I posted a link to the project in an earlier blog, back when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. But I'll put another picture of it here.

When the boys' mother saw me working on them, she said, but...


(pout pout)


...where's MINE?!


So irritating.

Anyway, so I sent my elf out to get more matchboxes, and I'll be making one more of those things. I'll let you know how it goes. It's so cute, don't you think? I'm going to change it up a bit, and instead of putting ribbon pulls on the drawers, I'm going to cut the matches down and stick the heads on as knobs. And you know why?

Because I don't have anything else to do.

More Muse Stuff

Tomorrow night, I'm going to see this. It's in theatres! A remastered episode of Star Trek's Menagerie 2-parter, with surround sound!!

Eat your heart out.

A friend just told me that Watchmen is going into production. I'm such a loser I didn't even know this from a year ago. Or, maybe I heard it before my auto accident, on which I blame all my memory glitches.

They are making a film. A MOVIE! It's FILM that MOVES!!

I must have this.

For all of you wondering, "What? What can I get for Chris as a gift?", this is it. Watchmen, Watchmen the Movie, Watchmen the Audio Book, Watchmen the Watch, even...

Watchmen the Extraterrestrial.*

Run, don't watch, to get me Watchmen.

And do yourself a favor, and get one for you.

*If you happen to be this guy.

Dali High

Look, Ma!

It's the Dali Report!!

As you may remember (and tried to forget), two weeks ago, I went to the L.A. County Museum of Art to see their Dali: Painting and Film exhibit. You may want to read about the exhibit in the curator's own words, here, on the LACMA website. Mostly because, I can't seem to help making stuff up, so she's probably more reliable.

I went to the exhibit as a nubile (work with me) fan of Dali's, and left feeling bitter and jaded. It was fun! I was surprised at how naive I was. I had no idea he worked in Hollywood for a variety of filmmakers, infusing their films with his wacky surrealistic sensibilities. For example, who hasn't seen Hitchcock's Spellbound? But did you realize that the images from Gregory Peck's character's subconscious, as told to his Freudian analyst (played by that plain-jane Ingrid Bergman), were created by Dali himself? Okay, sure, you may have been told this in kindergarten, but I'm from Kansas City. They didn't discuss surrealism in our school system. (But I bet you didn't know that Missouri native Thomas Hart Benton liked to taunt squirrels?)

(Did you?!)

It turns out, Dali had a number of obsessions. And I thought he was so normal and wholesome! For one thing, he was fascinated with Freudianism. He also was fascinated with certain images, which recurred in his paintings throughout his career. Those images included: ants, bicycles, elephants, knives or blades, eyeballs, and of course, his stunningly elegant flaming giraffes.


The installations were expertly displayed, of course, with the paintings and studies for a particular film displayed in the room where the film was being shown. The advancement in technology of film restoration was evident by how crisp and intense the images appeared, even when projected 20 feet above us, against seamless backdrops. Even, as it happened, after getting dizzy from looking up at them, and falling down. Still crisp! Each film was shown in its own room, with the works relevant to that film lining the surrounding walls. Viewing the canvases next to the films was an impressive and...surreal experience.




Next up:

Scout and I become scabs by writing our blogs despite the strike.

No News R Me.

I finished my first altered metal object.
I can't show it to you, because it's a gift for someone who might see this blog.

So, instead, here's a picture of a Kandinsky.




This weekend, I have 13 projects to finish. But yesterday in the post, I received a HUGE quantity of slide mounts for use in finishing them!

All I did was say to my friend Michelle, 'Gee... I wonder if I'll ever alter some slide mounts?' And, voila! They arrived in the mail.

I have an email out to her, asking if she's ever altered a Prius.

Anyway, I'm making a bunch of art this Saturday. Then I'm going to watch younger people (which comprises most of everyone else) play 2 soccer games. And Sunday morning, I'm running for women's health.

Actually, I'm walking slowly, because I don't want to hurt myself.

When I get to the end, I'm going to sit down right away. Probably have some chocolate cake. Then I'm going to eat pizza, watch 3 movies and pass out.

It is good to exercise.

Use Your Muse!

This month's crusade for the Street Team site is: Who's Yer Muse, Baby?

Phrased a bit differently here.

This is my lucky crusade! Because I have lots of muses! I suppose you'd call them musi. Here is a list of my musi:

My mother
My partner
Alice In Wonderland
Paris, France
Louise Fitzhugh
Starhawk
Philip Dick
Neil DeGrasse Tyson
Audrey Hepburn
Chuck Close
Diane Fossey
Louise Nevelson
Neil Gaiman
Henry Moore
Jimmy Carter
Azerbaijan

This list could go on and on, I'm sure. How boring life would be if I wrote down all my musi on this list. But, if you've read the crusade parameters from the first link I gave you, you'll know that a muse can be a person, place, or thing, as long as it inspires in some way. Actually, I think Michelle is so open-minded and zenlike, that she will accept any definition for muse, with the possible exception of this guy.

Anyway, I haven't begun my assignment for the crusade yet. But as I let my musi percolate, I thought I would ask you who your muse might be. You probably aren't going to make a chunky page or an ATC, a journal page, an inchie, a flower arrangement, a coffee mug, or a scale replica of Stonehenge, to represent your muse for the crusade, so how will I know what your muse is, unless I ask? Surely, you have one? It's what you imagine when you are performing. Perhaps when you're making dinner, you imagine Martin Yan is guiding you. Perhaps when you pick out wallpaper, you think of Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Perhaps when you're playing with your pets, you think about Barbara Woodhouse. It's even possible that you aspire to this when performing certain tasks. But how would I know? Except, of course, to look at you.








So please post a comment and share your muse with me.

And if you don't see your comment posted here, it will mean I've decided to steal it for the crusade. Just ask Kerry.

And No Lead!!

Here's something for those of you who are just bored, sitting around, not celebrating any upcoming holidays, nothing to spend your money on, getting way too much sleep and all that...

Is this cool, or what?

That Martha Stewart. What I mean is: those Martha Stewart people. We all know she doesn't do it. She's off in St. Barts, riding horses and drinking gin.

My partner and I already agreed we weren't going to buy presents this year, but I've decided I'm making one of these for everyone I know and like. I'm going to alter them better than THIS, though. All those people Martha pays, and this is the best they could do? Mine are going to be festooned with papers and glitter and stamps and hinges and little windows and rusty bits and even ribbons!

Of course, you'll all have to come and pick them up, because I'm not paying that kind of postage.

Waiting for Tippy Hedren

Every night around 6:10, the neighborhood starlings roost in the cedar trees along our driveway. It's a fairly recent phenomenon. We've been here for over 12 years, and we've never seen such a large group of starlings working together with such organization, and with such a keen sense of time, wearing name tags and carrying brown paper bags.

At first, they would congregate on the lines above our street.




They'd chitter at each other, a few of them would fidget now and then, and there was some occasional positioning and rearranging of cliques. They would just perch there, as the sun gets lower and lower in the sky. Over the past couple of weeks, there seemed to be more and more birds on the line, but they always were very orderly and organized. Not unlike the birds in Hitchcock's classic film. You know, the one where the crows send out regiments to accompany you at recess or meet you on the porch to peck your eyes out.

At some moment in time only they determine, every night they would begin, in small clusters, to move across the sky above us, and roost in the cedar trees right beside our bedroom window. They'd jockey for position in the trees, disappearing into the branches, and chattering away at each other, as, every few seconds, group after group of them would move from their perch on the line to their roost for the night. Hidden in the trees.
Outside the bedroom window.










Yesterday, however, something different happened. There seemed to be at least 300 birds, and at about the usual time, instead of leaving in small groups, they all exploded off the line at once. Instead of going directly to the cedar trees, they began circling our yard over and over again. On closer examination, we saw that a hawk had flown into the mix, and they didn't dare to try to land while it was around. Because, it might caw at them with its shiny beak or try to grab them with its sharp, skittery talons.















They kept circling and circling, until finally, the hawk went off to look for easier prey. By this time, we had goosebumbs and neck cramps.
(Nice name for a blog?)




























Once they got into the trees, they just kept chittering and chattering, flitting in and around the trees' nooks and crannies, until finally, they were all out of sight, and settled for the night. Or, so it seems...




I'm curious about how things will go tomorrow.


Will I see this happen again?

Or, will I check into a hotel?

What's important...?

Okay, I realize that the Ellen/dog adoption issue is old news, but I I'm tired of hearing people say she over-reacted. There's such a weird backlash over this, it makes me feel concerned for the sanity of the people who engage in it. I don't understand the position a lot of people are very vociferously taking.

Now, I've avoided discussing politics or social issues here, because this blog is supposed to be about my art discoveries. Besides, I tend to become... strident.

However...

for the record...

Ellen didn't over-react. Let's just agree on that so we can move on, okay? She reacted the way she reacted. There's nothing wrong with how she reacted. She had to do a show, and she got emotional. Sorry. And if you don't think that dogs are important enough to cry about, let's make a list of what's important enough to lose control and cry over:

Death
Loss
Frustration
Humiliation
Compassion
Love

Are any of those important enough? Hey, before any of us lose control and express a feeling, let's first look at it rationally, shall we?

None of those motivations for feeling are more or less important because the object is human, animal, or thing. It's still sadness and it's still a feeling. If I lost the diamond ring my brother, who is still living, gave to me, I would weep and weep. And if people happened to be around, I probably would weep in front of them. And if I had to give a speech right after I lost it, I'd probably have to cancel my speech. That doesn't mean I value a diamond ring more than a human being or even a dog.

WHAT do you want Ellen to do, huh? What? I guess she could have cancelled her show and sent her guests and audience home and leave her staff to face the sponsors because she felt like crap at that moment and didn't know if she could compose herself. Sure. But to say, as I heard both Bill Maher and Johnny Wendel say recently, that it was ridiculous to make such a theatre out of a dog adoption, is just unfeeling, and what's more, hubris. What's so bad about spouting hubris? Well, I guess it's not my problem, really. But don't put it on Ellen, just because you are uncomfortable with her feelings. If you are incensed that she would be such 'a girl' about something, then ignore her. You obviously don't watch her show anyway, or you'd know that she's not manipulative and she doesn't use her show as a soapbox. So, they don't have to show themselves as jerks by commenting on it at all, and certainly not with the verve and ridicule with which they did.

And what's this about dogs not being worth making such a fuss about? There's such a non-issue about this dog/people thing. Why do people have to analyze it at all? Of course we'd all save a drowning human over a drowning animal, that's not even the point. The POINT, and I do have one, is that Ellen felt an honest emotion and went with it. Was she attacking someone? No. Did she ask all of us to boycott something? No. Did she even say we all had to feel that way? No.

This, by the way, is not how Bill Maher or Johnny Wendel operate. They operate by cajoling, ridiculing, attacking, and otherwise attempting to let everyone know they are RIGHT about whatever dead horse they happen to be kicking at any given time.

And don't get me wrong. I listen to and enjoy both of these guys when I happen to be listening to their programs. What I'm SAYING is: Ellen didn't do anything wrong, silly, embarrassing, unreasonable, manipulative, or otherwise outside her rights as a public or private citizen.

I hope we're finally clear on that, because I don't want to have to get angry.

Puzzled

What now? Now that the spooky's are gone?

It was really interesting checking out everyone's site during the Halloween blogland gala last night. A lot of great art being made out there, and food for thought, as well! And lots of bakers and foodies! It was fun.

And thanks to everyone for checking out my little site and posting such supportive comments. It really helps!

Happy Gothday

And tomorrow is Day of the Dead...

Get your altars ready!

(I hope I don't eat all the sugar tonight.)

Watch out for Cerberus!!

Scary Books

Halloween night will be outside on the deck by the pool, under a canopy of stars, watching a scary movie in the dark. Today: an impromtu cemetery scene constructed on the living room bookcase. You can't see it here, but at night the tiny skeleton innards glow in the dark. I made it from a Creepy Crawler set! Remember those?

Hey. Here's a FUN place: BenandJerrys Halloween Page!

nite nite.
Sweet dreams...

I don't really know what this is, yet, but I'm going to check in Wed. night and see what's up! I didn't know about it, but if I can write up a spooky story, I'll post it here and add it to the blogparty.

If you have a website, post your pictures or stories and give us the link.







And don't forget to check out all the cool pics on this site, because Crusade 13 is all about the spooky.