Smile for a while and let's be jolly

It' s easy to smile when grouting, as long as you don't rake your finger across a jagged piece of glass. Oh, the hazards of crafting! Today's featured "work" is a bird bath that I have been working on since late November. 'Twas to be a Christmas gift for my aunt, Phyllis Earl, but only one quarter of it was able for viewing during her visit over the holidays. I am happy to report that it will be finished later today!

PE is lovely. She is one of my favorite people in this world. She has more lovely gardens than you can shake a shovel at. She did not ask for a busy birdbath, but I felt it was my duty to create one for her, rather than taking the store bought route.

This idea all started with a broken gravy boat. My aunt's son had given it to her when he was a child and it was fondly put to use during countless turkey days and spiral ham festivals. One day, it got dropped and was no more. PE decided to saved the pieces for an unknown future project. With the thought of this broken "memory" boat in mind, I chose to make her a birdbath that could incorporate it. I gathered up a bunch of old Blue Willow wear and some heavily used Fiesta, and was off smashin'. I was trying to make a "vase" base and I flower top. Granted, you wouldn't see this unless you were lying in the garden looking up, but that's not my problem. I will be happy to have this done and in her garden so those thirsty birds can get to it.

I beg you pardon, I never promised you a rose garden, but I will give you a busy birdbath to keep the birds hydrated while you work on said garden.

Mama said, "idle hands are Devil's handywork"

Look what can happen when you've got nothin' better to do. This piece was done several years ago as part of a 25th anniversary gift for my boss. Everyone in our office was given a 12" square canvas and a letter to create an image that would be placed in a framework spelling out an anniversary message. My boss likes flying, so I used this airplane lady from an old pinup peekaboo book. The middle lady under the "s" is cutout of plexi glass for a 3-d effect and has a blinking orange light behind her. (Fascinating, I'm sure.) I couldn't figure out how to get the sound of an engine on the piece, so I settled for the light. One of the cleaning crew knocked her off with a broom handle shortly after the whole piece was assembled. She survived and was hot glued back on the very next day. I like working in a square format, but I can't say why.

I'm not a hero, I'm not a saviour

The problem's plain to see: too much technology…and obviously, if I'm on the wide wide world of inter-web, then things have really gone to hell. But I digest...I would like to talk about.... Madeline....Ashton. No no no, I would like to talk about the lovely Monsieur et Madam Krass...my interpretations of them are available for your viewing pleasure. These “portraits” are a few years old, but that iridescent glitter is still just as fresh as the day I applied it at the dining room table of the Bellevue. And by iridescent, I don't mean that christan goth group that sang the theme song for frenz (or maybe it was stuffy the umpire slayer). Anyway, Madam Krass fashions lovely couture from vintage fabrics and notions. You can visit her atelier at orangyporangy.com She actually got me to do a little cut and pasting recently (see her vintage remix collection), which I will post at some later date. As for Mr. Krass, well he's just a lovely as the day he was born. He's got more talent than you can shake a stick at. Plus, he patiently enjoys their collection of cats and can wood craft and p-graph circles around the best of them. For new years eve, he introduced us to the magic of the French 75 (it's a drink, bitches). It was like heaven coughed up golden aperitief and sent it via St. Micheal for our private benefit. Unfortunately, Mr. Birdtoe merrily kicked and smashed my champagne flute – and then there were four.

A world where roses bloom

To all of you wonderful people out there in the dark...I am happy to report that I have come to an important realization: it is nearly impossible for me to eat a complicated pasta and watch a foreign film. To those of you who already knew this, I say walk it out. To those of you who didn't know this, but did know someone who drank too much cherry wine and had a 3 way with your parents, I say Vive la France! To those of you who threw away the recipe to the complicated pasta that caused the cultural viewing slowdown, I say “I am you”. To those of you who finally watched a film that your friend highly recommended 7 years ago, I say non, je ne regrette rien. To those of you who care as much about what I have written as I do, I quote our lady of michigan “I can't underestimate how grateful I am". To those who say you can't start multiple incomplete sentences with prepositions, I say “you can call me Edith”.

are you ready [ANCIENTS OF MU MU]

While being neither Justified, nor Ancient, I still felt the need to delve further into what may be the beginnings of my brochure building career. I remember sketching that Whitty Kitty like it was yesterday. It was bold choice to use pink construction paper to get my message out there, but I'm sure it moved many. I ate the whole thing was the beginning of my branching out into the wide wide world of 3-d with the addition of brown crepe paper. What forward thinking to use my sisters favorite singer of all time (Xanidu anyone?) to boldly illustrate why good dental hygiene is important in Don't Lose Your Chompers! After all, would Grease have titillated so many if Sandy had a yuck mouth because she didn't brush? Tune in later to read more as the nonsense train continues its journey to nowhere.

In the beginning...

This piece (chase, pail, gar) is where it all started – or at least it's the earliest one I can find with the "ransom note" technique. I'm guessing this one is from the 1st grade. I am not sure why I latched onto this particular style of recycling, but I still find appealing today (or is it that I find it appalling?). This early work was later used as the basis for the collage that I did a few years ago, a portion of which is pictured. Still not sure what "chase, pail and gar" have to do with "father" – maybe it's just the yellow wide-ruled paper. Or maybe my father had a pail that he chased me with while saying "gar". These are the mysteries that won't plague me for the time being.