Day 106

True enough, They Live is somewhat campy. It's John Carpenter. Of course it is. Campy isn't necessarily a bad thing. Not a fan of zany, but a little camp is okay in my book.

They Live is also chilling, even more now than in the eighties, at least in my opinion. You don't have to be a conspiracy theorist to know we're living it on the edge of it, as I type this entry.

I don't recall reading "Eight O'clock in the Morning," the Ray Nelson short story the movie is based on and I haven't found a copy of it yet. though I hope to soon.

I watched the movie again this week. Almost immediately afterward I saw a commercial for a new family car with the latest in entertainment systems.

What the fuck, humans? Don't our children spend enough time staring at screens? Don't we?

I get that long trips can be boring and entertained kids are easier to travel with. Mom's on her blue tooth, the kids are glued to the screens as they travel through a world they're completely isolated from. I could be wrong. Maybe they're going camping. I'd bet the kids couldn't find the way to their own school. But they likely know Lady Gaga fell on her ass twice.

Nothing about this feels right to me.

I know this theme of sleepwalking humans has been explored many times, the parasitic elite few suppressing the masses.

I'm sick of caring about it. But I can't stop. Stupid humans. Poppets tell me to be patient, that humans are still very un-evolved. And not stupid, just young and silly.

Near the beginning of They Live, the protagonist, Nada, says he still believes in America. He only wants a chance to earn a living. Americans didn't lose their freedoms or their money. We gave them away, handed them right over for something shiny and a false sense of security. If we're asleep, it's because we swallowed the pill that was offered, with a nice glass of shut the fuck up.

I'm going to read to my son now, from a book, which doesn't require a power source owned by vampires.

g'night

Day 105

It's always Something.

Otherwise, it's Nothing.

It's nearly eleven and I have to get up at 6. Soosi is sprawled all over the desk. I've been writing for about two hours. That felt good. I wolfed down a bowl of Frosted Flakes. They're great.

It occurs to me, just this moment, that a number of things I used to refer to as 'difficult,' I now call 'challenging.' A number of things I used to refer to as 'challenging,' I now refer to as 'inconvenient.' That will bear some processing, later.


The person I referred to last post is Mary, who is Orion's grandmother. I don't have this sorted out well enough yet to write about it. Mostly, my mind is on Orion who is nine and who's had little introduction to death before this.

The difficult things happen, but not in a vacuum. All around us, the challenging, the inconvenient, the silly and beautiful continue to dance with the shadows. This much feels right. As for the rest, understanding will come in it's own time, or not.

Day 104

By the time I got to the shower, I really, really needed one. It was a long day of hard work. Not delicate or difficult problem solving, but hands-on, dirty, dusty physical labor.
It felt good and right to get so dirty.

I have some stuff going on, aside from the work, that's important to me. Someone I know died last night, and I'm processing it all. I want to tell you about it here because it's relevant to all that I tell you here. But not yet, every one in our small local circle (no one of which reads here, to my knowledge) hasn't been told.

In the meantime, there is work, and thank goodness for it. Now I am clean and must, must, must sleep. Tomorrow, the difficult work begins.

I am very glad you are with me, and very fortunate.

g'night

Day 103

Note: Sometimes I truly hate Blogger. I don't know why the spacings are screwed up. I've had this blog for years and I can't figure out why it's suddenly refusing to put captions anywhere near the photos I post.

Until I can fix it, sorry for all the ridiculous open spaces. sheesh

Friday was busy, busy, busy. It was the kind of work day in which one eats standing up, never leaving the studio. Not so much time for thinking, which is likely what I needed.

I took photos.

Alien specimen in progress. Complete with its own atmosphere.

Spencer bends metal for the creature's tank.

And cuts metal for the trim. It's to be a somewhat Victorian piece and you know how those Victorians loved their trimmings.

Outside, we're keeping an eye on this praying mantis egg sac.

Orion prepares to take off on the mini Trikke.

Later, Battleship. Orion and I tend to put our knees up during board games, so we decided this battle would be fought knee against knee.

Very messy studio. Here's a winged piece in progress. Drying stage.

A 'collection' work in progress. This one about odd bits of life. I have bugs and acorns from Ravyn, bees and bits of conifer from the Neil Gaiman, pieces I've made from other things. First stage, arranging the elements.

And lastly, the epic battle begins to take shape. It will go on perpetually under the glass top of a gaming table.

And that was yesterday, day 103

Day 102

Could be a devil. If so, it's the sort of devil who hasn't got his tail just yet, just a nub. It's the sort of devil who plays with a ball in the grass.

It's also the sort of devil who just ate a bunny.

This is the sort of devil with a fluffy bunny stuffed inside. Like a mummy.

Yes, that's creepy.

Oh but he's so cute.

And really, all these are guesses, because we could be dealing with a very strange sort of rabbit instead.

But I don't think so.

No.

Definitely a devil. Or at least a demon. As I worked the figure out, balancing and laying on layer after layer of thinner and thinner paper, I worked out why I haven't been working on the book.

Or rather, I worked out a way to get around the hang up. The hang-up, I'm fairly certain, is some kind of fear. But it manifests itself as an approach that didn't work. Over and over.

I've been doing it wrong.

Too much of the whole, the outlines, the lines that connect the dots. Changing and changing and changing my approach.

The one thing that hasn't changed is the dots. The bits that will eventually be tied together to make a (hopefully) cohesive whole.

I need to put the whole from my mind and just work out the bits. Not by gathering a list of the bits (the dots), but by picking one at random and writing it. And then another. Eventually, they may connect themselves.

This seems to be working better.

Aubrey took these photos. Thank you, Aubrey.

g'night

Day 101

Aubrey's photographs of "Blue."

We're beginning to dig ourselves out. Get some of the work out that's been 'lost' in the studio. How could I have left her hidden away for so long?

More words later. Lots of physical labor going on. And some thinking too.

Thanks for all the great names for congregations of poppets! Together, we'll figure this one out. I know it. Because of all the people who might understand poppets, most would be found right here among us.

hope your day was good, hope your night is too.

Day 100

My wisdom tooth is gone away.

My dentist is so nice, but he couldn't give me the tooth, though it had an evilly hooked root.

The absence of pain is joyful. Modern pharmaceuticals create an artificial, yet warm fuzzy blanket round my brain.

I must sleep. But the nagging question of the day is what to call lots of poppets.

If it's a gaggle of geese, a pride of lions, a murder of crows, a plague? of zombies, what then, goes for poppets?

A bit of work in progress from Saturday. More pics as I progress.

So:

I stopped in my tracks. Before me, made surreal in the strange light of dusk, was nothing less than a______________ of poppets. I dared not move. Could not. The sight held me in mute, joyful wonder.

g'night

Day 99

I woke from the most amazing technicolor alien invasion dreams. Just when I thought I couldn't be, I'm taken aback once again by the depth of my geekiness. The details. The details. The brain is a terrible thing. Those dream skies; Maxfield Parish meets Rene Magritte. Beautiful to look at, scary as hell. Just like I like it. And through it all I was running around like Dorothy, looking for something small and important. And just to make it more real, I had a toothache and needed desperately to pee. The brain is a terrible thing. I have a toothache to endure for another 20 hours or so. Yesterday it hardly bothered me at all. Today it's incapacitating, throbbing and blocking out the connections between thoughts if I stand, or do much of anything. So far, today was spent on the couch. Spencer is on his way to the pharmacy to get pain meds for me. We are way beyond Tylenol and Orajel today. Yesterday Soosi had her nose, her paws and her butt in everything I was doing. And under my feet. This cat will be the death of me. Yes, I know. I'll be found in some Wile-E-Coyote situation on the floor and you'll read about it on Yahoo. Yesterday though, I got enough work done for two days. Today she is all about trying to comfort me. Now that I'm immobile, she loves me. As I type this, it occurs to me that she probably loves me when she's creating chaos in my general vicinity as well. I did watch and enjoy Presented by Mrs. Henderson. I may watch it again. Yesterday I moved at light speed. I went to bed after making a big list for today. But that's not going to happen. The plan is getting through a toothache. The challenge is not letting it ruin my day. Could be worse, could be better. Jane, the more I know, the more you make sense. So. Not so much but dealing with one of the somethings there always is. I see the storms and news about the wars, reports on Japan. Yes, my toothache is a small inconvenience, but it sure hurts like hell. If that's whining, then waaaaaaaaaah! Guilty! Forgive me if this post comes up as one long run on paragraph. Blogger's been hinky about spaces lately and I don't have what it takes to tinker around with it today. later, gators.

Day 97

It's been oddly cold today and dark. Last week the kidlings swam in the sun, today I sent Orion in long pants and a jacket. I still have a bit of a toothache. Appointment on Monday. I'm in the painting room, with music, surrounded by ideas. I wish you could see what I see today. I hope I can twist and color and build it. I'm skating on an edge and taking notes. It's a risky edge. The wheels are familiar, the landscape is not. I might fall. I might not. I'm happy to be here. I'll play to the best of my abilities. You are very wise, Spence. Aubrey and David--thanks for Gong! That's today. I hope for humans with you. Don't give up.

Day 96

Soosi rests her chest on the sugar jar. She ignores my nudges. She refuses to budge. She answers my demands with mrrrr and some stink eye. Will I have sugar in my coffee? Who will win this battle of wills? I will. With my handy greater strength and opposable thumbs. Yay me. Orion is reflected in the faucet. And he watches this drama with sleepy morning eyes, wishing it to end quickly so he can reach the cereal. And I realize how tall he is and that he was one when we moved into this house and today, that was yesterday.

Exhausted from hiding our things, blocking us and causing other general chaos, she covers her eyes and sleeps.

Outside the clouds make soft light with few shadows. It makes a good place for the posable poppets to play. These are the prototypes.

The red one is felted, the black is sewn in leather.

And there is the little poppet puppet.

Morning light is good. I'm glad I got up early to enjoy it today.

Day 94 and Day 95

Was Saturday. Housework. Greenhouse work. Kids in the pool. It's amazing how productive I can be whilst procrastinating. It's amazing how quickly I can move and how efficiently. How busy I am. I told myself. So busy. Not a wasted movement. Like a machine, not a thought in my head as long as I can outrun them. But no one can run for very long from their thoughts. Thoughts travel faster than the dead.

Mostly the thought I ran from was that I was supposed to be writing today. It's right there on my planner. Saturday. WRITE. I worked double time all week. finishing poppets for orders and packing prints for shipping so Saturday would be free.

But the wind blew the canvas from the greenhouse and scattered the pots all about. The kids noises were distracting. There were patches of weeds to pull. The laundry was in a jumble, there were crumbs on the floor and who knows what Soosi's stashed under the couch?

In the evening I stood back and looked at room after tidy room, feeling very little satisfaction and too tired to do more than sleep.

When I woke this morning the house was quiet. I was the first up. So I made some coffee, then sat outside to drink it. I saw the largest, roundest bumblebee I've ever seen.

The bee and I had a bit of a chat.

Bees can be very wise, you know.

I confessed to the bee. I've lost my nerve somewhere. It must be here somewhere but I didn't see it yesterday in all that cleaning. Not in a closet or under any rugs. The bee told me that I don't need nerve to work on the book, what's that all about? It's not a test. It won't be graded. No one is looking over my shoulder. What I need are my notebook and some pens, which were there on the table behind me. Silly human.

So today, on Sunday, I made a drawing in my book and I wrote words all around it. They were honest words and the first few were hesitant. But soon enough they began to politely follow each other out, one after the other, spilling over onto other pages and eventually, leaving me with a story.

I like bees.

Day 93

I am an artist. I am not a factory. I see the world in a certain way. I am compelled to create. I create a visual language. I work nearly every day. I am dedicated. I am in love with the work. I am in love with the process. I am in love with exploration. I am in love with discovery. A factory makes lots of parts. I am not a factory. I am a machine. A beautiful, beautiful machine. I am not a factory. I am an artist.

Day 92

Orion and I are well into Lord of the Rings now. Last night we began with Merry and Pippin caught fast in the roots of a most disagreeable willow tree and ended snug in the strange and wonderful home of the strange and wonderful Tom Bombadil. I've always been happy that his character wasn't portrayed in the movie, because I'm very attached to the vision of him created by the words. I like the Tom Bombadil I know. He's bright and magical with hints of darkness.

We follow a routine. Orion reads a bit first, then he settles down while I carry on. I've developed a real sense of when he's becoming sleepy. I adjust my cadence and tone, growing ever more soothing, with spaces between sentences, so that it's like seeing him off, walking with him just a bit into the edges of his sleep. After the rescue from the willow, our weary travelers trudged through the last and darkest part of the forest, to find themselves suddenly in sight of the bright windows of Tom's home.

They began to feel that all this country was unreal, and that they were stumbling through an ominous dream that led to no awakening.

The chapter resonates with the reality of traveling through deep darkness that seems never ending, then, at last, seeing a welcoming light. I know this, and so do you. I feel lucky indeed to share this sort of experience with hobbits. I should carry it in my pocket like a smooth little stone, so that next time I feel myself lost I'll be reminded that the light is there, I have but to find it, and that is but a matter of looking.

Day 91

I tend to appreciate beauty most when it's found in unlikely places. Children will play amid rubble, given the chance. A smile breaking free in a dirty face is radiant as the sun. I love that children are natural makers. They will create from what can be found, when they have nothing. It's heartbreakingly beautiful, this. I aspire to be such a maker. I work like mad to search out and tap into the childlike vision hidden in the deepest secret pockets in my brain. Like time travel, like escape velocity, this requires an awful lot of effort.

The most difficult work of artists, I believe, is accomplished unseen, in silence and alone.

I find that the more my vision expands, the less I tend to travel.

But that may change. The world still fascinates me, and I'd like to see more of it. I'm not sure I want to become a mad artist recluse. Not just yet.

Aubrey took these photos, I added the sepia effects to a few. I like the timeless feel.

These poppets are Angel, Ghost and Monkey.

I've completed some wedding pieces. Here is a cake topper that will become a keepsake box.

It's for an Alice in Wonderland themed wedding. I look forward to photos from the event.

This is an anniversary piece for a couple who love science fiction and fantasy. There was a whole list of things they like, from robots to Gandalf. So I mixed it all up in a soup and distilled the spirit of it into this steam punk piece, including their three cats. I'm told they were very happy.

And this is a panel from the wedding dress I've been painting on. We'll get pictures of the entire dress next week. This couple is basing their theme on the movie Up, loosely, but mostly on a playful sort of joy. I'm looking forward to those wedding photos as well.

That brings you up to date on the last couple of weeks' work.

Now, off to make more art. Hope your day is good.