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.
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.
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.