Case-Notes from the Artsy Asylum

So Cold the Maribou turns Blue

The wind is up and it's got to be about 12 below outside. That gorgeous sun coming in the southwest window of the studio is deceiving as hell.

I wonder what the cold has to do with the fact that the muscles in my shoulder feel like a rock. Someone should declare me the poster child for old injuries jumping up 20 years later to bite you in the backside.

I'm still enjoying the photos I took of the bedecked and generally overly adorned flat Susan that I sent to California for a surprise Somerset Studio Magazine "Visit". That was so much fun and turned out so well that I'm wondering whether to include the story with the newsletter which I should be working on right now.

Maybe the wiser thing would be to wait until I have an idea about publication details . . . but not sharing the excitement is killing me.

Note Added later: See Living Vicariously through Flatness to learn about what developed as a result of the flat artists' first visit to "the Coast"

It's hard to believe how addictive flat Susan was to make and then fiddle with. Now I miss not having her in the studio. I could just make accessories for weeks. I now content myself with looking at the pictures and remembering the fun of doing it.

Bold is definitely the word for my flat self - I mean, when would I wear blue marabou and a hat with a purple feather other than via a tiny flat copy of myself. It kind of reminded me of the queen mum . . . which really must mean I'm getting even older than dirt.

It also reminds me of the peach formal purchased for some event in the 70s that had equally frothy peach marabou around the sleeves.

I wonder where that dress is - - I could cut it up and use it for something.

Oh, but wait - Given the decade, it may have been - gasp - polyester. Not good for much probably.

And speaking of that - and as for what we wore in the 70s - someone should have told us! And that hair. Oh My Gawd, visit my fads site and experience something scary - especially in the past tense.

Relax, I tell myself. Everyone looked just as weird. Think of the Brady Bunch, you know? The mind boggles.

The new chair in that spot by the studio window screams at me to curl up and read a book. Unfortunately a grumpy old granny cat beat me to it. Who's got the heart to displace a sweetie like this?

Nothing left to do but make art or think about what to make for dinner. So art it is.

In the Beginning

In the beginning - 01-19-2004  I made my first blog post. Only back then I had started what I thought of as an "online journal", and it was set up at Live Journal, later moved to Blogger. On to the entry -

If Greta Van Susteren can create a blog, I refuse to be left in the dust. She also got a face lift. I vote for that too. So - a breakneck pace of progress with technology. At least I know what a blog is. I'm streaking ahead.

Recently I met a woman who has a similar illness (mine is FMS with a sprinkling of a few others thrown in for good measure) and she said something like "and you're still functional and creating and being useful."

Right; I noted recently that my morning had consisted of taking a shower, putting laundry in a washer, reading email, letting a cat out, and in, and out again. Wow.

Making more art is an image on my horizon. Tonight I'm branching out, adding Art-E-Jigsaw puzzles to my website. This is totally more than enough technology to make my mouth gape open.

So far only one of the images is "clickable" but I'll get there.

Check them out to see how far I've gotten
when you're reading this.

If you can click on an image and get a screen that includes puzzle pieces which you can move around, I've gotten that image linked. If not, you'll know I must be off on another tangent.