Self Storage

Pete and I took this photo one windy night at a very busy Mesquite/Gene Autry intersection with headlights whooshing by. I can't pass this place without thinking of fifties science fiction cryology, gleaming cities and silver cars that zip by on currents of air, leaving nothing behind but water vapor.

Later I'll figure out exactly why this image is right for tonight. For now, I'll just accept knowing that it is, in the same way I'll accept knowing that this year was pivotal and sobering for me. I'll figure that one out later too. The clarity of time and an autopsy of the body of work will tell me how the pieces fit.

For now, I'll refer to it as the year I learned to swim. But with you, my loyal comrades, I'll share
What I learned This Year:

1. That the truth sits in the creamy center.
2. That if you can define the question, you can find the answer.
3. That real changes are accomplished one at a time.

My New Year's resolution is to enjoy the moment, then see what happens.


I'd love to hear your thoughts on the coming year. I thank you for being part of this one and I wish you every good thing.

g'night

This is my brain, on time...

Time is on my mind.

Not lack of it, or schedules, but the nature of it.

Something tugs at my edges, gently, relentlessly.

Papier mache poppets dry on the hearth and I
complete other chores, ticking things off my lists, ticking off the moments.
All the while, I think about the nature of time and how we travel through it as we travel through space.

I can't read in moving cars, nor on the train, without motion sickness. But I can read on planes. It's easy to forget sometimes, that we're always moving through space and moving very fast.

I try to imagine being a dog, for just a moment, with my head sticking out of a car window, travelling fast, going I don't know where, watching objects flash by out of context, without attached values and histories and without knowing the car and the world are hurtling around the sun or that I'm moving through time.

Present in each moment as it comes.

and

Jones carbonated candy is weird--at least the Fufu Berry flavor is, and oddly addictive, at least while the tin sits in front of me. Still, once I leave this desk, I don't know that I'll have another. I'm beginning to feel as though I drank a cup of warm cola.

This might be a good night to rewatch Primer. But really, I'd be better off with My Name is Earl. After all, the muse needs variety.

g'night

Robots, Rest and Unavoidable Reflection

These photos were taken at the home of Kenny Irwin, a Palm Springs artist who likes making giant robots from found objects.

It's afternoon now, but cloudy, so still seems early. Mostly I think I'd be content to read with Gurtie purring on my lap. Later,no doubt, Christmas dinner leftovers will beckon. Currently I'm reading Collapse - How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed -by Jared Diamond (Guns Germs and Steel), The Fabric of the Cosmos, by Brian Greene, and a collection of short stories by Elizabeth Bear called the chains that you refuse, which make me hope for a chance to talk with her. I especially liked Schrodinger's Cat Chases the Super String.

This holiday season always forces us reflect on the year and think about what comes next.

..which is precisely why I like St. Paddy's Day better. By then, all our New Year's Resolutions are not only broken, but forgotten, along with most of the guilt.

Ok. my work here is done. Now, to go find that cat...

Elevation

It's Christmas Eve.

A few hours ago we stopped doing Christmas-Eve stuff, Orion and Pete and me, and put on our coats and got in the car and drove up the mountains. We went around curve after curve, up and up to a spot where home is a tiny sprinkle of lights and the sky is darker and the distant stars look milky---a place where you can stand in the quiet air with a quiet mind and look deeply into that vast space.


I wish everyone a merry sense of wonder.

g'night

Tags

Not
everything
has
to
come
from
a store...

We mangle boxes that would normally just be thrown out. It seems not a terrible idea to keep a pair of scissors near the trash can for that, and for threatening things that try to escape before trash day.

And occasionally, it's a fun thing to mix ginger ale with grape juice, share it with a kid, and go searching together throughout the house for pictures just right for gift tags.

Thanks everyone for your birthday wishes and gifts. You are too cool. RRNN--Very nice (see his poem in comments on the previous entry.)

Soon all this holiday activity will be done. Then it will be time to show you something really scary.

Until then, farm wuzzies.
g'night

Midnight at our house

I have now decided that what it takes to hand paint 123 Little Red Poppets to look exactly the same is:

1. many hours
2. the mind of a serial killer

The many hours I'll do. Ok. So I fudged a little--took some liberties, painted them slightly differently from each other.
Not terribly, but slightly, e.g. dolphins. Dolphins all mostly look alike to humans, but different to each other.
And, likely, vice versa.

Owww. My back. Funny. It's the tiny detail stuff that gets me. Not the lifting of the wiggling 4 yr old, or diving, or moving of a bookcase I know should've waited for the Pete unit.

Before I forget, while I'm whining about the pains of artists... We often have problems with our hands getting dry and itchy from the work. I discovered recently that the Gold Bond foot cream contains urea, which is a very effective ingredient used to treat serious skin conditions. Works great for 'artist claw.' Really great. My hands hardly look like artists hands at all. I've moved up to fisherman, or farmer.

It's a process.

Anyway. One hundred twenty three poppets are ready to march out the door tomorrow, the last of the winter sale shipments. I don't mind painting them, really. Eventually, the Little Red Poppets will be painted by others (good, hand-picked others) and will say 'SlaughterHouse Studios' on the bottoms instead of my name. It's the way things go. Still, it's better that I've done lots of Little Red Poppets on my own. I know them. They will always be mine.

Ok. I'll admit it. I do have the quiet chuckle of a serial killer at times.

And painting poppets can provide time to think, and listen to music like the new "ecdysis" by Miho Hatori, who was once half of Cibo Matto. This album is, in my mind, somewhere between Cibo Matto and Bjork, which, in my mind, is just fine.

This household runs late. The kids are asleep, but midnight means time for food, The Daily Show and The Colbert Report.

g'night

Climbing Hills

I suited this Little Red Poppet up in a safety orange parka. Soon, it will accompany our friend Lawrence to Equador for a mountain expedition.

We wish them both wonderful adventure and a safe return. And we hope for photos!


I'm working extremely hard, getting everyone's orders out in plenty of time for the holidays.
I've come to realize that learning to be an artist does nothing to prepare one for the rigors of running a mail order business.

wow. sheesh. This is very involved stuff. Possibly there's somewhere to learn how to do this other than personal experience. I believe (no time to search at the moment) that Lillian Vernon wrote a book about it. If memory serves, it's more of a memoir than a how-to book. But if anyone would know the in's and outs of it, she would.

There's something to be said about learning your own way from experience. I'd have to say that each time I do this thing---have a sale---I learn more about it. And, of course, learn that there's more yet to learn.

So far though, it's the sort of Santa Claus aspect I like best. Probably it seems silly, but I like reading the names and addresses from all over and wondering about the people who will get the packages. I like putting a note in each one. I like sending the good wishes.

Still, I know when it's all done and the last box leaves, I'll be glad to clean things up and have a good massage. And some chocolate. And several hours of tivo'd entertainment with my feet up.

But. I'm not there yet, so...back to work.

g'night

Poppets in Stop-Motion,

David Kirkpatrick and his lovely daughter Alia (who is nine) have made a Poppet movie, called Book Tour. It can be found here: www.lisasnellings.com/blogger/poppetmovie.mov (yes, there may be a bit of ratty Gaiman in there)

and is now up at: YouTube - Alia's Poppet Movie

They did a lovely job.








The Winter Sale is still going on until Saturday. Mostly there are Poppets, but some other nice things too. Lisa's Winter Art Sale





And Ravyn, I've learned, has been doing a bit of painting as well, on tiny, delicate little models of horses. You can see what she's up to here:The Anti-journal

Winter Sale

As of this Saturday afternoon, the Lisa's Winter Art Sale is open. We're still listing things for the ebay auctions so feel free to have a peek and check back later for more pieces. (I see Aubrey put something up too... ...sheesh)

Orion has been going to Yoga classes with Aubrey on Saturday mornings. This morning he decided, once we got there, to whine and cry and cling. So we left. But before we got out of the parking lot, I realized that this wasn't what I wanted to teach Orion. I told him that we wouldn't leave. We'd go back upstairs and sit together and just watch the class.
We did. After about twenty minutes he was tentatively joining in and by the end, we were both stretching and being trees and starfish.

My first impulse isn't always the best, but I'm working on it. I can teach him, when in doubt, to at least show up and see what happens. Baby steps, for both of us.

Back to work now.

Bit of Fortune

A little sneak preview:

Inertia



Today, just two days from the opening of the Winter Sale, we work on the kinetic fortune teller.

Ben tinkers with the engineering that opens and closes Jack's eyes, I on the wheel that turns behind him.

The wheel has twelve spaces for fortunes, a random one of which will eventually stop at a big red arrow.

Why is it random? One could apply Chaos Theory, which isn't like time travel at all.

We're eating vegitable soup and talking about fortune cookies, then fortunes, then fate, then the Fates, then fortune cookie stories.

We start to make up fortunes and Fates and realize if Pete were here we could take this discussion to a higher level of comedy and madness. We decide to save it for later.


It's cold outside. And windy and energizing.
Change is good for creativity, and for the human. The cold desert is a different animal, no matter that it looks only subtly different than in its summer coat.

I painted carousel figures for two collectors who have been astoundingly gracious.





P.O.T. :This image from Rebecca during last week's snowstorm in Seattle.







I hear it's going to snow in the Chicago area sooner than later. Stay warm out there.

If ever there was a blustery day, this is it. Behind me, through the window, the sails we put up in the summer to protect us from the sun are dancing. I always loved that image of white fabric blowing in the breeze. Even laundry on a line. I've held a painting in mind like that for a long time---been thinkiing of using the image for one of the 'Strange' chapbooks.

But for now I'm painting poppets. I'm also painting poppets on things. The time just seems right for poppets.

Why?

Well, Lisa, I don't rightly know. Likely it's the kind of question that will answer itself in the future.

But for now, why doesn't matter one bit.


Our friend Lawrence is leaving for a mountain climb in Equador next week. He is taking a poppet with him.

That seems right too and not even silly at all.

It's most definitely a blustery day. I think I shall dress Orion and we'll go out in it.

Be back later...

Little Pink's Mask

I'd thought to have a sort of winter queen poppet for the holidays, so last week I started painting some poppets, looking for the 'right' design.

Now it's this week, and I'm finished painting poppets which are each different from the other.

So there are several wearing gowns fit for a regal queenly sort of poppet.

Then, partly in response to being called "Scrooge McBitter", painted some holiday sorts of poppets.

After that, I realized I really did want to explore colors and designs one poppet at a time and really didn't want to paint any that were exactly like any others. Not this time.


Note: not to worry, there will be plenty of Little Red Poppets.

Last night Pete and I and dozens of Little Red Poppets began watching An Inconvenient Truth. Some of the poppets hid themselves away. Some went to the studio refrigerator in search of courage. The rest are gathering under my desk, deciding what constructive thing they might do about any of this.

I decided I'll do whatever they decide and, in the meantime, learn to enjoy whatever moment I'm in. This is a tall order for someone like me, but I think I can master it if properly motivated.

Visions of glacier ice dropping into the ocean is plenty.

The last color I explored was Ballet pink. The tube says 'rose', but I know ballet pink when I see it. And explore it I did, finding some new poppet places to go back to later.

By the time I was finished with pink I had twenty five unique poppets for the holidays. I'll get them all listed on December 2nd, for a nearly all-poppet winter gift sale.

Just Wordless...nearly

I have no words of wisdom tonight, fool that I am.

I’ve been making poppets though. Lots of poppets. And toy...things.

I can always make toys, it seems.

There I am in one future, with a long gray ponytail (and a long gray beard?) and quite possibly a hump. Making toys. Toys that do things.

Maybe. Best to keep my thoughts to this day, for now.

I did (with the help of a new friend) find a toy maker who can help me make 18” plush poppet dolls. These will be fun and cuddly and slightly creepy in the right light.

I like that, I think.

I need chocolate.

War of the Monsters

The War of the Monsters booms and crashes behind me. Ben and Orion duke it out.

Sometimes you’ve gotta forget about the alphabet, left and right, where your shoes go and what absolutely must not be flushed down the toilet. Sometimes you must become a giant robot that can jump over buildings and shoot fireballs.

That suddenly seems more important than what I was planning to write.

All the art is finally back and put away, a path is cleared to the studio and I’m ever so ready to work. The rest of the year, and then some, will be likely be mostly brains and/or bowls.

I don’t know why. But I know.

Maybe you can figure that one out. Every time I think about it my toe hurts.

I'm told we work things out in the work. I believe this to be true.

There will also be poppets. There may always be poppets, of some kind or another, even though other phases come and go. Poppets have been with me so far, unaffected by geography, real or imagined. By now, it seems reasonable to think they will never disappear completely.

I’m not yet sure where that sits with me.

Boom! You threw a building at me?! Roar!

Wordless on Winter

Possibly it's the current marathon reading of Chomsky's work that has me so language-conscious. Orion, seeing what Winter left for him on Friday morning, speaks with his whole self.

His language is unmistakable and pure and iconic.



It's universal and needs no translation.



This is the stuff that centers me, if I'm lucky enough, or smart enough to get it.



And finally, I made this one for you. I'm thinking it might be time to get back to the studio.

g'night

Off Again

Orion and I are off tomorrow, in search of colder air and adventures. It will be his first trip on an airplane.

We may wave from there, if time and technology allows.

He is sleeping. I must find his mittens.


g'night

Home again

I'm incredibly glad I attended the World Fantasy Convention for the same reasons as last time I did. I'm incredibly exhausted as well.

Watching The The Science of Sleep proved the theory that it would be worth it to find it somewhere on a large screen.

I listened to Muse (Black Holes..) tonight, which I'm not sure of and to Zero 7 (Garden) which I'm very sure of, even though it's different from their other collections.

I'm reading the Chomsky-Foucault debate on Human Nature, which is not a beach read, but seems to work well on planes.

The studio fridge has water, beer, milk, gatorade, apples (good, good Ben) and a huge bowl of left-over real mashed potatoes with gravy. Did I mention that Ben is not good? They are delicious.

The photo is of a work in progress.

Tomorrow is Nov 7. I once thought I lived in a democratic society, but I was only sleeping.

im in UR blog, shoutin' out at UR peepz

yeah, i couldn't resist one more hijacking while Lisa is gone <maniacal laughter>

i'm reposting this from my friends Ego Likeness. Steven and Donna are both talented musicians and artists, with a knack for finding the very cool, weird, inspiring, and silly, which they post on their blog. Like this thing that still makes me laugh:

WARNING: unauthorized blog hijacking ahead!

hehe, ravyn here....... this time it's really me <cackle>

While Lisa is at the World Fantasy Con, i've decided to hijack her blog, hehe. As the saying goes,"When the cat's away, the mice all act like rats!"

One of my friends posted this lovely gem on his LiveJournal this morning, and it just so happened to appear on my friends list directly above Neil Gaiman's latest post, appropriately entitled "Evil and Goats".



Thanks, Hugh, for letting me spread the goat love..... (whoa that sounds baaaaaaaaaaaaad!)

(and yes, Lisa will probably kill me when she reads this)

Cats and Grenades

Phillip sent these two photos. They have nothing to do with one another, really. Poppets on a grenade do what poppets on anything do. They give us a different look at things we might take for granted. Like grenades.

Cats need no reason or explanation.

Thanks for your emails. These are hard days. I have the tenacity of a mule. I consider it one of my better traits. Better days are coming. But sometimes we have to slog through the bad ones. I'm doing it. I'm not digging it, but I'm doing it.

Possibly the lesson here is that indeed, things work themselves out in the work. When I find out, I'll let you know.

In the meantime, I'm off to the WFC.

Here we are, in November. Let's all try to make the most of it.

A glimpse into the bucket of truth

post I took these with my phone on the drive to Passadena to pick up art. We drove toward the column of smoke from the Palm Springs Fire.



It became apparent as we neared the area just how large the fire had become. If you haven't seen or read about this, you might want to know it was deliberately set.


I've read several of Leonard Shlain's books. Here's his take on a mystery many of us have pondered.The Blog Leonard Shlain: Why Bush Smirks The Huffington Post

This October hasn't been a good one. We've had a lot of events to cope with, including and especially the drowning death of our friends' toddler, which has left us all changed. Now, despite our best efforts at business as usual, the people in this house are pretty ragged and shell-shocked. Last night, I walked out of the astounding mess our house has become and into the astounding mess my studio has become and decided I didn't have the strength to put a match to it, much less try to set it right again. It's been a month of questions and doubts about the very core of my efforts.
It's not so easy saying so here, and likely not the smartest thing I've ever done. Generally these sorts of posts are better done through the safe filter of time. Raw questions and hurts tend to make people uncomfortable. But the truth is, right now I feel like quitting.
Please don't try to say helpful things. Anything you might say I've probably already said to myself. I've given this some thought, and I'm fairly certain that I'm posting this because (in my twisted way of thinking) a little brutal honesty is required. I know you've probably felt like quitting too, and didn't. That's help enough.

Orion continues to be the little willow-the-wisp this dark month. We follow his light and are often grateful for it. I'll be leaving for the World Fantasy Convention on Thursday, because, well, that's my job. Then I'll go north for some winter air and to see a friend who wisely reminds me that the worst stuff seems to work itself out in the work.

Don't forget to send a contribution to Link TV. It matters. A lot.

Tonight Orion will dress up and knock on doors and ask strangers for candy. We won't think about what any of it means. It doesn't matter, really. I'll wave from the street and remind him to say thank you. Despite all, Halloween is a good thing. I hope you have a good one.

Oprah's Nude Photos

This photo is perfect and requires no title.
More POT in Chicago from Cliff and Glen.

If we get a reader spike, we'll have some interesting demographics for Oprah fans...


Summer may actually be over. I brought in some freshly painted Poppets from outside. They were very cold. Poppets are made of resin and marble chips. Marble gets very cold and has its own sort of resonance and for some reason, these seem like good traits for tiny sculptures. To me.

Ravyn sent me this Unrest in Pieces about the Bodies exhibit. It is disturbing, but doesn't make me want to see the exhibit any less. It's good to be awake, but not always easy, which could explain why so many sleep.

Rain

Rain

Oh how I wish it would.

The Secret Show

I watched The Prestige (2006) last night. It was good. No spoilers, not to worry, but there was one scene in which a magician was extremely bothered because the logistics of a particular act left him backstage at the moment of glory---the applause and the cheering (it was a very good trick).
I sympathized, somewhat. As a visual artist, I'm acutely aware that my best artistic moments are spent...alone.
Art isn't created in a vacuum. In a busy studio, where multiple projects in different media are always in process, things happen. Often. Deep insights, clever improvisations, spectacular feats of slap-stick, on-your-feet thinking occur with fair regularity.
and
There are occasional moments of true brilliance. Sometimes.

I generally like the works that emerge from the sometimes chaotic mess I call my studio. I generally enjoy showing the art to people. Still, I'm constantly aware that what the public sees is the product. They never really get to see the show.

Music today included The Eraser, by Thom Yorke (of Radiohead). My first listen tells me there is more to be discovered in subsequent plays. Good stuff.

I need to see the Bodies exhibit. Soon. (www.bodiestickets.com) . Hmm. Who do I know in NY?

I'm currently reading Cigarettes Are Sublime by Richard Klein. I'm always reading at least one book. It rarely occurs to me to mention it. I'll try to be better about that. Most of the books I read are worth mentioning.

We swam today, Ben, Orion and I. Diving into cold water (as I imagine running in cold air, skiing, or whatever else you can think of that involves cold and movement) seems to be an effective deterrent for fatigue, sloggishness or the plain old fucking blues. It slaps your inner child's butt and says...'you're alive! So... live!'

I have to say I recommend it.

Blogger ate the earlier version of this post, which was longer and more colorfully written. This one is shorter and somewhat more to the point---so, good for you. I'm attempting to post a photo of a Poppet wedding couple I made this week. (Hi to Steve and Kelli.) If it doesn't work, I'll email the photo to Ravyn, who can add it to this post while I'm sleeping three hours earlier than when she wakes tomorrow.

It's like time travel, dammit.



I recommend The Prestige. Good stuff. Good director, good cast. And David Bowie as Nikola Tesla. ok. That's just too nerdy-cool to miss.

Concrete donkeys know. Scientists know.

was
From Kai in Morongo Valley, CA. Kai is very cool and once sent me a video of his cat eating a rat. It might be the most disturbing bit of film I've ever seen. One day I may post it, perhaps in the Backroom I can't seem to get to opening.

We have officially reached the point of Studio Saturation.

We must employ more rats. Soon, very soon.




I really like this one. Crisp symbols. The Poppet observer,
the open door,
the satellite
and
best of all, the concrete donkey.

It's richer than dark chocolate. Kudos to you Kai--good one.


We listened to the interview with Nobel Prize winner Peter Agre, M.D. on the Colbert Report.
He talked about the serious need for scientists to get involved in policymaking. He talked about getting scientific knowledge into the hands and minds of an oblivious public.
Carl Sagan wrote about the serious need for scientists to get involved in policymaking too, years ago. He wrote about how important it is to educate ourselves.

People like Dr. Agre and Dr. Sagan know we're in deep shit.

So many sleep. A few of us wander the halls awake, wondering what the hell we can do to help. I know I do.

wake up wake up wake up

POT at the Carnival--One Poppet's Story in Pictures

---dedicated to all those brave souls who've come to appreciate the dynamics of rides, physics and corn dogs.

... And to the ever very cool Jordan, who is 14 today.

today in the desert, GIANT EYEBALLS TERRORIZE CAT!! POT in Florida,

P.O.T. in the Florida Tide. Pete sent this in via cell phone.




Back in the desert, Orion and I made giant glowing eyeballs for the front yard.

Today's water temperature: 71F Orion must, due to lack of body weight, soon retire for the season.


Todays Bennism: (after having accidently set off a defective electronic skull in the halloween dept and realizing that after ten minutes we could still hear it from across the store)

"That was even more annoying than I could've possibly hoped for."


Sale is here, tell your friends, not your cats. Lisa's Very Big Halloween Sale

Lisa's Very Big Halloween Sale

Is up and running. Yes. There are Poppets...

Lisa's Very Big Halloween Sale


Have fun in there!!

Thanks Ravyn. Thanks Jane. Thanks Ben. Thanks Orion, for the cookie.

g'night

Really, is it October?

I have more photos from POT at the Carnival, and some interesting poppet photos from readers. Currently my computer is misbehaving on this point to the degree that I've called in an expert. Until he gets here, I am to muddle through and resist the urge to photograph said computer at the bottom of the pool.
After stomping it for hours on end.

Orion, Ben and I are still swimming. We have decided to stop looking at the thermometer. I'm not considering heating the pool --- I don't really like heated pools. But maybe a hot tub...


Thanks to David K and daughter Alia for some interesting fossils from the shore of Lake Huron. You guys rock! Ok. That was corny. But the rocks are cool.

Tentative Poppet nods to Dove for a possible waking moment. Even if their current ads are more clever marketing than company philosophy, the ads promote a broader concept of beauty. There's an interesting Article by Alicia Clegg that rings true.

I'm all for promoting a more intelligent concept of beauty, one I was nearly convinced could only be gained in art school. Dove's new Intensive Firming Lotion smells wonderful and feels good. Still, I don't forget the fact that if something could actually effect a molecular change in skin, it would be classified as a drug. No exceptions. See FDA.

I'm looking foward to some studio time. Not to come for a bit. Sometimes we tool along and other times we deal with the sorts of things best viewed through the filter of time. I could write them, couch them in fiction in the way that writers do. I could say, "it is what it is" and "this too will pass" or "monkey out of nowhere, " (not that one, really) but mostly, I count on that most times things tend to work themselves out in the work.
When the work is good, everything else can be fixed. Well, it seems that way to me.

So. Is it tomorrow? Tough concept, this one. Orion is gaining on it, I think...

But I did just notice that it's after midnight, which means that it's October 10, which means that the Halloween Sale starts in a matter of hours. Sheesh! There's new Halloween stuff, and some really fun stuff we found at the Worlds of Wonder gallery.

Time for sleep.
g'night

I'm still here...somewhere!

Please forgive my lack of posts recently. It seems I've been working against a current of events, mishaps and life in general to get things up. We have lots more POT at the Carnival photos.



For now, here's a quick snapshot from Chinatown, day before yesterday.

We're nearly ready to open the Halloween Sale! Yay! Lots of fun stuff.

Be back soon.

P.O.T. at the Carnival

Poppets on tour visited the Dark Caravan carnival, which currently resides in the home of Howard and Jane Frank in the Washington, DC area. While Ben and I made adjustments to the roller coaster, I sort of turned them loose to explore. Here are some images of their adventures.