Saturday, December 23, 2017
...is apparently even more fashionably challenged than I am.
And yes...that statement includes that ill-fated year of 1984, when I wore lace that covered one eye, and had that mishap with a garter that left me with a mark I would lie about for the rest of my life.
Okay, Okay. So maybe she's NOT as badly dressed as I thought she was, originally. I can't compare her to that time in my life when I thought it appropriate to pay homage to Madonna and A Flock of Seagulls...at the same time.
In fact, with that very Catholic looking lace veil, and the torn laces and ribbon, she....
She looks like she's paying homage to Madonna and A Flock of Seagulls.
But at least the BELL is a new addition, people!
Let's move on. Because the LAST thing we all need is for any 80's song to get stuck in our heads. Like "Danger Zone" or the dreaded "Everything I Do" (or ANY Bryan Adams song, for that matter. I hope you all remember that it was this whiny Canadian that opened the door for the Justin Bieber's we have today. I hope you're happy with yourselves.)
This project was the result of my taking Deryn Mentock's "Angels on High"
class. She has a plethora of classes (including the Bezels class I've been BEGGING her to open!!) at her Something Sublime website.
I won't go into detail regarding how they're made, but a beginner will have no trouble with this class! And while you have a choice as to what kind of face your angel will have (or whether it will be Christmas, Halloween or any holiday in between) I chose to use these little porcelain doll heads (not expensive on etsy...ranges from 8-20 dollars.) because I want to give these as special heirloom gifts to my doll collector friends.
As a side note, you see that 36/0 incised in her head? It's an unidentified Antique German Mark. I believe the number 36 is the mold number. Not sure what the 0 is for. If I've screwed any of this up, please correct me!!
Since the top of her head was missing, I gave her a little Boa action, stuck right inside. My having immediate access to something like a boa shouldn't be surprising...the Queen of Fashion Tragedy always has boas and sequins ready to go...not to mention lace. But NO garter elastic anywhere. I'm seriously PTSD when it comes to that. I go into histrionics at the sight of them, which makes me the worst wedding date ever.
I jazzed up the back, mostly to conceal the fact I can't sew worth a darn (pun unintentional, but necessary. I can't cuss in the house anymore. That story coming soon enough) and I didn't like how the back of the wings looked, so I went to my trusty Stickles. My worst nightmare is Ranger deciding to do away with the Stickles line. Makes my garter scar hurt just to think about it.
Please check out Deryn's page. I've taken 3 classes...the salt shaker snowmen the Boho Bliss (will put my things that I made in an upcoming post!) and this one. You will NOT be disappointed. And ANY BEGINNER can take these classes! Just expect to practice (esp. Boho Bliss) in order to produce beautiful things.
It's good to be back, friends. A post on my absence is coming soon.
I hope both of my subscribers are looking forward to it!
Monday, April 3, 2017
(Chipboard, Graphic 45with bird, some grass and clover mounted with mounting tape
for effect, Tim Holtz, Dresden frame covered in white Gilder's Paste
and rubbed to highlight a little of the gold.)
I was visiting a friend the other day, when she paused during our conversation, and gazed out the window with a rapturous look on her face.
"Look!" she said, in a excited whisper.
I did. And I understood exactly how she felt.
The birdfeeder was simply crawling with birds! A movement to my right almost caused me to laugh aloud. "Oh! I can't believe it! Here comes a squirrel!"
She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then smiled. "It's okay for now, there's enough for everyone."
"Well," I said, "Maybe not enough for everyone, but a good start."
We grinned at each other. "I'll get phone and get pictures!"
"Great idea!" I said, "You do that, and I'll get the shot pellets and gun."
Shortly after, I was sitting in my car and wondering how birds had become so darned overrated.
(Inside of ATC sized paper mache' house covered with tissue paper and acrylic. Live twigs, mini birds, greenery and clay birds. Brass finding on top with clock. Moss adhered with tacky glue. Tim Holtz findings.)
Back in the day, we used to hunt those suckers and suck the marrow out of the tasty little bones.
Well, ok. Not songbirds. But squirrels, definitely.
FINE. Fine. So my grandpa hunted squirrels. But I STILL had to eat squirrel and dumplins on occasion.
Geez. You people are a pain. Ok, I ate it once. After they told me it was dark meat chicken and dumplins. Had I KNOWN I would be eating a member of the rodent family, I certainly wouldn't have come NEAR it, much less eat the nasty stuff.
Wow. That was a heck of a rant, wasn't it?
The point I was trying to get to (before you ill-mannered people managed to access my brain and gave me the power to foresee your disturbing need for ACCURACY-whatever happened to literary license, people??) was why in the world would anyone want birds and inevitably, squirrels, hanging out 24/7 at your home? You are, in essence, training them to hang out until meal times and show their gratitude by pooping on everything from your car, to your deck and even your kids!!
PAM (pre-adderall moment) I want to say that I would give anything to have my kids get poop-bombed by birds. That would be hilarious! Oh, the fabulous Facebook photos I would have! Not to mention that I would finally have material to justify the purchase of those Christmas picture cards to send to everyone! With cute captions like, after catching a kid slipping and falling on the bird poop slicked grass, the picture would read "I'm POOPED". Or how about a picture of all three covered in bird droppings and having a caption that reads "The POOP Posse!" How about a close up of the birds and the kids having a birthday party in the back and calling it "The Party POOPERS" Oh HAHAHAHAHAHA The possibilities are endless. The only thing keeping me from putting this incredible idea into motion is the fact those little poop-heads would refuse to leave the house and I'll be stuck with them for the rest of their lives. Is that worth a day, or three, of parental payback perfection???
Sigh. I know. I'm torn about it, too.
(END OF PAM)
But look...I'm not here to try to change anyone's mind. I mean, how could I? You people are crazy enough to WANT the little sh*t machines to hang out at your house 24/7! You even buy them food to keep the poop coming on a regular basis! I don't even know how to TALK to that kind of crazy! All I have to say is this: when you tire of the mess, you know who to call.
And I'll even supply the shot.
Needless to say, I was on a clay binge for Blissful ATC swap's "Bird Brain" theme for March. I found so many little tutorials on youtube, that I drug my Sculpey out and went to town! What you see is one try on each before I baked them. That's how easy it was! Throw in so live twigs and some good texture and you've got a really good start on some bird themed ATC's!
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Piece 1 of 3 for Blended Backgrounds. Small shrine, painted with chalk paint, stamped and shaded. Gold, stenciled words on top. Picture coated with glossy accents for shine.
When the theme for February's Blissful ATC swap was posted (Blended Backgrounds) I had originally thought to make another Faberge Egg ATC, that I learned from the terrific tutorial HERE at Laura Carson's artfully musing blawg.
Piece 2 of 3. Stamped image in Archival Ink on paper backed cloth. Image colored heavily in Distress Ink and spritzed.
I had originally planned to title this "Hopelessly Devoted to My Eggs". Personally, I thought this a wonderful title! Until my husband wandered into my craft...I mean my 'Art Studio' (don't laugh...I bought a SIGN that says it, hanging above the door) and started reading this over my shoulder.
"You like your eggs?" he said.
"I do," I said, trying to sound pleasant while mentally restraining myself from elbowing him in the gut to get him to move out of my personal-PERSONAL space.
"Do you still have eggs? I mean, at YOUR age?"
I counted to 50, all the while thanking the Lord that the loaded handguns were under lock in the upstairs safe and not still in my purse.
"Fabrege' eggs." I said, teeth clenched.
"Is that what they call them? I thought it was fallopian or something." he squinted his eyes, as if trying to have an intelligent conversation.
"You really need to go watch TV." I said.
"There's a commercial on Fox and Friends." he whined.
"There will be plenty of those to deal with. But I'm pretty sure that the little hottie that is Ainsley of Fox News and Friends is worth a few commercials. I'm pretty sure she doesn't like a quitter."
Have we ever reached a consensus as to why, no matter where we are in the house or what we may be doing, our husbands periodically wander into our personal space and just stand there without a word until we snap "What do you want??" Then, with a wounded 'nothing' or 'what's wrong with you?' they shuffle out the door? It drives me MAD when my husband does that! What does he think I'm doing? Having some kind of spicy 'chat' with a handsome, wealthy Castillian Spanish hombre' who is just shy of 30 and has never been in love with anyone...until ME?
CRAP. Now, I'm going to have to write my mother yet another of my apologetic emails, and include an extra hundred punishment lines:
"My art blog is NOT the place to share my spicy fantasies. It is a crafting blog, not some questionable URL where 'Craft' involves scantily dressed people with whips. My blog is NOT the place to share my spicy fantasies. It is a crafting blog, not some...." I'll finish them later.
Point is, I'm crafting. Or shopping.
PAM: (pre-adderall moment) For the record, my husband would be fine with my saucy repartee' with Don Carlos, as long as it curtailed my shopping. Seriously. I've got some real problems with this. I noticed it the other day, when I counted 4 pieces of relatively large mechanical things that you're supposed to plug in a wall and turn on. I don't know what they are, and I'm afraid of plugging anything in unless I know it won't jump off a table and run around, chewing up art supplies and children's toes (not to mention MINE) on its rampage. So there they sit until they can be identified. It's pretty bad, people.
But back to the original question: What is it that drives our men to circle us as if caught in some gravitational pull they can't break free of? Your responses and advice would be greatly appreciated and you'd probably better take a moment and help a sister out.
Otherwise, I'll be calling YOU for bail money.
Piece 3 of 3. Masonite shrine, painted red and antiqued using black stain. ATC design card glued to front. Chipboard platform rests on wood dowels painted red and covered in stickers. Stamp of dragon done in VersaMark and heat embossed with gold glitter embossing powder. Paper used is Graphic 45.