Poppet's Cure for Sad Humans

  I'm printing this on a T-shirt for myself, because I'm just weird that way.  But this does help and is a thoughtful gift.  There are so many cool socks out there.  For my Poppet Wasocky - I used a striped sock and the heel is the face.  I drew the eyes on with permanent fabric marker.

Wasocky

  

I've mentioned before that most days my schedule includes some time at 'the little table.'  It's my niche in the house that allows me to hand sculpt small things (I tend to make a few small things) while watching TV and/or hanging with the other humans.

Last Nights "Little Table." Making Poppet gas masks with Jon Stewart and Wasocky.

Wasocky is two cups of rice in the leg of pantyhose, inside a fuzzy sock with the ends tied in knots. Heat him in the microwave for 2 minutes and he'll stay warm for an hour. Great for muscle pain and warmth. And squeezy company. Yours can look like anything you choose. There are lots of socks out there. Go hog wild!

 Yup. I never stop makin' stuff up.

 

Danger Will Robinson! Palm Springs Modern

Thursday:

I'm sitting by the pool as I write this. The palm trees sway and the breezes caress and whisper. The sun sparkles on the water. The desert seems Mother and today she is happy. My feet are bare. They enjoy the warm contour of the pool's edge. This deck chair is canvas, low and comfortable. Ah...mother desert. Really, what's the point of living in Palm Springs if this can't be my office?
Inside I hear faint music. Spencer's guitar. That would mean the armatures are all glued and drying. I don't glue things anymore, or pour resin, or mix epoxy. A few years ago, I began to react to them, even with proper ventilation, if truly such a thing exists. I accepted the burning and rash as a message from my body to my brain. STOP HUMAN. Enough with the glue already.
We driven, creative sorts tend to listen attentively to the most mundane pratter of the brain, yet we and ignore the body's earnest attempts at communication.

I begin to suspect that our bodies know the brains they carry around are moronic boobs. If I'm thinking to myself that my feet are screaming, I might want to consider that they might actually be screaming, "Sit down you idiot!" I shudder to think what my stomach might say.

So. Enough with the glue.

The music has stopped, the Roomba has started. My shoulders are becoming unhappily warm.

"I hear you, " I tell them, and I head indoors with Palm Springs Modern on my mind.

Earth Day in the Desert

Today was for Ben and me to take Orion to The Living Desert for their annual Earth Day celebration.

We made plans to attend the next star party of the Desert Astronomical Society. Nice folk.

Orion liked the bounce house. And possibly the giraffes. But not the vultures.

We saw Mexican wolves and a giraffe family. We watched a butterfly(not this one) emerge from its cocoon. Zebras, owls, snakes, lizards and cranes. Bobcats.

Poppet went too, but refused to tell us anything about this particular conversation.

We followed the long white road...

Sometimes it's good to go outside, spend some time with other life forms. Keeps things in perspective.

Tonight is for tired little boys to sleep and artist moms to make art.