bit by bit

Crash Poppet

Jordan (yes, the Jordan)

and Aubrey (yes, the Aubrey)

photo by Mimi Ko

Zoya's world

Poppet's sometimes earn hazard pay.

Drift

Lapse.

Time does.

I think of light as a magician, changing worlds and dust motes with equal grace and gravity.

I think of time as a trickster.

I don't know what to write you, exactly.

I'm in a flux here, between this and that.

So I'll say that your artist is in a large sort of and difficult sort of transition between, well,

this and that.

What I've learned, so far, is that being between this and that can be very, very hard.

And that sometimes a week can seem like one very long day.

If you're waiting for art and concerned, please don't hesitate to write to Angie at the harlikn7@aol.com address. If I owe you correspondence, please send me a reminder.

We're catching things up.

Children are playing in this house.

Good meals are being prepared. Friends are telling stories.

There's every reason to believe this reality will work itself out in the art.

So. I'm thinking that's the direction I'll head toward now.

Thank you for being here. Really, really.

g'night

Jumping Off

You may think I've gone away.

I have not.

MimiKo is here, to capture Blink in a light that shows his true colors.

As for me. I'm

making things that seem to be toys at first, but

are not.

Today we took turns jumping off the roof into the water. It seems a long way from up there.

Sometimes the desert is bigger inside than out.

Blink Habitual has a soft switch underneath that sets up an array of lights that play over the hand underneath, making it seem a wholly different thing than the one we see in the light.

For the VCon Program book cover image, Spencer and I built a small, sort of mad laboratory for even madder Poppets.

Poppets with tools and skill.

We took lots of photos along the way to show at the convention. (We missed MimiKo. We must build a set when she's here too.)

After, I'll post the shots here,.

The set and photo shoot took about 14 hours. We were tired, but the work was good.

Sometimes it's the habitual things that hang us.

It's the anti summer. We're working through it, sort of. It comes out in the work, mostly.

Take care out there.

Very Early Tuesday Morning

Fallout is hell.

Your artist is making toys.

Again.

Phase Shift

I seem to be experiencing a protracted moment of clarity.

Always dangerous, that one.

A whine, a click and a gear is shifted, a rhythm permanently altered.

So that the world looks much the same, but underneath is a changed machine with a strange new resonance.

Honestly, I'm a little afraid.

too much for words

Yesterday was hot and close and humid. Today was mostly the same. Tonight is cooler, with lightning and wind. My plan to get to sleep early went away in bits as one task led itself to another.

We swam at midnight, Aubrey and I, under darkly luminous clouds with occasional flashes. We made up scenarios to creep each other out. Over the years, we've become very adept at this game. I can only imagine how our half whispered horrors might sound to the uninitiated, or how mad our delight in them.


I'm too much in my thoughts these days, with less to say than I wish. Some days are better spent letting information in. Quiet. Listen. Process. Inhale. Exhale.

Like the tide. It's coming around again.

Poppets Are Always Watching

Well, at least we've got this going.

Here's our first Poppet t shirt!

Sweet in front, evil on the back.

We're pretty excited.

We have different sizes in the ebay store.

These are ladies' shirts, but not to worry, more will be coming.

New work is coming. But today is for lots of water. It's hot in this desert.

---later

not a word about inflatibles

It seems to me now that many stories in my own experience have been reduced to a very strange sort of alphabet.

There are perfect moments.

Some people don't believe these sorts of moments exist. Others do believe, and spend their time and energies and money trying to find or create them. A few have experienced these moments and seek to understand them. And a very small few have learned to create them at will.

You may have met one of those individuals. Think back. Did you? Did you feel some sort of twinge when you passed them on the bus, or in line? Make eye contact? Feel like crying for no reason?

nah. Neither have I. And I've not a shred of evidence for any of it. But I'll have to say I belong to the third group.

Possibly it's the heat. I really don't know how human beings stay sane in this place. I'm not exactly sure why I'm still here.

And then there was the 4th. Another 4th. Did I think about America? Yeah, briefly. They weren't great thoughts, but very nearly hopeful. It was a good day for me, though still, as holidays are, it was another. Did you have a good 4th? Did you think about America? Did you wonder what took you from the last 4th to this one?

Where was I last year? I wonder. And now, what is?


Mostly, it's going to be about working these things out, somehow, in the language these experiences have become.

I'll show you. Sometime.