What She Was Wearing
this is my suicide dress
she told him
I only wear it on days
when I'm afraid
I might kill myself
if I don't wear it
you've been wearing it
every day since we met
and these are my arson gloves
so you don't set fire to something?
and this is my terrorism lipstick
my assault and battery eyeliner
my armed robbery boots
I'd like to undress you he said
but would that make me an accomplice?
and today she said I'm wearing
my infidelity underwear
so don't get any ideas
and she put on her nervous breakdown hat
and walked out the door
by Denver Butson
I'm donning my true crime pajamas and heading off to bed on this Thursday-turning-into-Friday evening. Then I'm going to read this poem 5 more times and laugh myself to sleep. And tomorrow when I'm on the way to my class of bare-back riding ninja turtles, I'm gonna look down at my criminal mischief boots and smile
Create & Be Recognized. If you like your collage served with a side of quirk you'll probably dig this book. I've had it awhile and look at it often.
In the midst of a busy flurry there is always time to take photos and read books. Do you know this one on the right? At the moment I can't think of a single person I'd rather spend the evening with than an outsider artist collagist. That's a hint.
Super cool sketchbook anyone?
Give me magazines, glue stick, scissors, staples, sassy little 6 by 6 pages...
and I will build new rooms from pictures. Fast collages on the TV tray while I make Spanish delicacies with Gwyneth & Mario. You'll want to watch this series. It's 100% delicious and will give you travel ideas. And cooking ideas. And eating ideas.
Now I have to go back to my station and cut lace. Because I have OSCARS to watch! Rain is gathering. Chimichuri salmon is baking. Let me go cozy up in front of the television. Where's my furry blanket?
Maybe my nice neighbor will bring me another hot brownie on a plate with a scoop of vanilla ice cream like she did last night. Oh the good things in life are very very good.
On a cold, yet sunny, day in February I could take advantage of the time to straighten up my messy spaces, make lists of things I will accomplish in the next month before spring hits full force, and take a brisk energetic hike around the neighborhood. These are things I could do. I could do them if someone put a gun to my head.
But when I woke up thinking I smelled strawberries and the thought of a moist, tender, cake with just a hint of lemony sweetness got into my head. I knew I was doomed. Doomed from the start. So instead of engaging in a long drawn out conversation with myself about why I should not make and consume cake I gave in. Notice the incredibly thin, almost dietetic, layer of frosting.
And now it's after 2 pm. It's just downright foolishness to try and start any kind of a project at this time on a Saturday afternoon. That leaves only one alternative. A nap. A nap with a cat. A nap with a cat on my bed in the sun. A nap with a cat on my bed in the sun on a yellow blanket.
And when I get up I am going to attempt to make Edamame. I bought a bag at the store last night. I think they will go perfect with the nice bottle of Chardonnay I just popped in the refrigerator. Boil, Salt, Consume. Right? How hard can it be? Have you made them? When I come out next time I will make them. Did you listen to The Car Guys and What do you Know and This American Life today on NPR? You can learn all sorts of things on NPR. Who knew for example that Frank Lloyd Wright was such a strange dude?
Happy Saturday. Please do NOT write and tell me of all your accomplishments over the weekend. Unless they are accomplishments of a spiritual nature ... like eating sweet pink cake, knitting, and napping with a cat.
I haven't done a single thing all day except stare into space. Until my reverie was interrupted by dumb and dumber who came to the door to try and get donations to go to college. I tried to stay calm but I couldn't. I even did the count-to-10 thing and breathe forcefully out of each nostril thing you taught me. See, when they left here they went next door and tricked the neighbor's dogs into coming close for petting and then smacked them with their clipboards. I almost jumped through the window and had a throw-down right there. Except for I couldn't fit through the window because of the piece of the best tasting brown derby grapefruit cake I got from Auntie Em's yesterday after work to soothe my ear ache. So I went out on the porch to do make more menacing threatening gestures which the morons seemed to think was funny. Of course I think it was nervous laughter and that they were really afraid of me. When I got back inside and calmed down a little I started wondering why I let you talk me into getting rid of Aunt Ola's shotgun that she gave me. That could come in handy tonight when/if the morons decide to come back and teach me a lesson. Oh well. I guess the baseball bat will have to do.
Yesterday morning I got this great moon shot from the back patio. I'm going to stare at it and listen to the Miles Davis cd you sent me and think of what Harry Bosch would do. Maybe I should call him.
p.s. uh...edamame next visit? I don't think so.
Rain beat against the cottage all morning & afternoon. Wind screamed against the window panes. I made more photo collages. Took naps. Read my latest Ivan Doig, Prairie Nocturne. Blissed out on winter.
Go pursue some happiness with Maira Kalman. I'm going to Washington to make friends with the lady with the perfect red brows.
Lanterns were relocated. Complaints were lodged. And ignored. Know this: if you visit Moss Cottage you will be put to work.
Sketchbook hunger? Go here and fill up.
I'm going through magazines tonight and assembling pictures for loose gluebooky collages. Complete fun. Go here to see more. And here. Lobster & Swan is sheer visual delight. And she sometimes she has garlands in her etsy shop. If you're lucky.
I want to go to there. So will you.
More fresh deposits of rain into Los Angeles' winter bank account. Perfect. Today a yellow & blue day to balance out the grey. Not that I need any balance. Balance is for sissies. I prefer careening back and forth from one extreme to the other.
Take garlands for example. When does enough turn into too much? Never, that's when. I gathered together the supplies. Things were bought, borrowed, and stitched.
There's more sewing to do and fabric & lace circles to cut out. My wrists are cold. Here, let me put on my newly knit wrist warmers courtesy of my sister. I send her pictures of things and she knits them for me. Lucky me!
Garlands on left purchased on etsy. (lace circles HERE, crepe paper HERE) Garlands on right stitched by moi once I realized I needed 20 yards, not 2. It takes a lot of yards of garland to drape an entire cottage you know.
While storm clouds gathered overhead & cold air swept in from the north,
I convened a family meeting on the fur blankets in front of the roaring fire place in my mind. Duties were assigned, warm milk was lapped, plans made.
There was much staring into water pooling on the patio furniture. Some members of the cat posse chased other, smaller members. Wrestling and tumbling ensued. Cupcake liners were flattened. Crepe paper cut into circles. Garlands assembled. Some of the liners were carried off and shredded by sharp teeth into confetti. I ignored these shenanigans.
Winter deserves her own party and decorations after all. And there are more squalls and water spouts stirring just off shore. More hail will fall. It may snow. Schools may close. Every possibility is in place for winter to unspool right here in the city of angels. I am eager to play my role of trapped cottage dweller. Very eager.
I think a string of twinkling lights will be a handsome addition to my garland. Twinkling lights have starring roles in winter dramas.
To get your own cupcake liner garland started you'll find directions HERE. Cupcake liners in more varieties than you can imagine HERE.
Rainy morning. I'm savoring each drop of wet. And the idea of an entire day tomorrow to hibernate in my own bubble of dove gray.
Yeah it's true. This blog has been hijacked by a troupe of banana-eating monkeys. Regular programming will resume. Eventually.
Thanks to an abundance of gorgeous scrapbook paper in our supply cabinet, we made Shoo Fly & Ohio Star quilts this week in math. One on the front and another on the back.
Visual poetry. Made richer by knowing that 4 packages arrived this week from Carol by way of Michele. Carol, who died of breast cancer at the young age of 53 and left her supplies to Michele, who in turn found a good home for them at the little classroom in the big city. (We used her paper in the quilts.) Thanks Carol. We heart everything. We heart it a lot.
The sticker stash is extremely popular. And the images? I really couldn't have hand-picked a better collection.
The child above has a good eye for balance. I admire her restraint in doo-dad application.
I've said it before. I'm deeply fascinated by the images that flow out of this pencil.
From these little boy hands. This ability to draw from the mind's eye is uncommon.
Image after image just pours out and every single one can be explained. Tiny ships threatening to capsize in oceans wild.
This sketchbook was new a few days ago, but it's nearly filled now. A bigger one will be provided. Along with a brand new set of Prisma colored pencils (thanks again, Carol).
Such ferocity! I hope he never stops building little fires and sending his smoke signals out to the world.
This week I introduced photos to the mix. More ideas are blooming than I can keep track of. Books to hold stories illustrated with stickers.
Adding lines of typed text to pages in the visual journal. Folded books made from a single sheet of scrapbook paper.
Love letters written to future selves.
I could go on, but I'll stop.
Will you get a load of the baby visual journalers? I love so many things about these pages, but mainly how one good idea leads to another and another and another. Check out that pop-up device the kiddo used on the page above. On. Her. Own.
Yep. These kids get the most important thing about art making: action yields inspiration NOT the other way around. More leads to MORE.
Not one of these little artists ever sit and stare at the blank page. Nope. They dive in and let their intuition and excitement and HUGE ideas guide them. I LOVE that. I love it very very much.
I always have a ticklish place in my heart for the ones who ignore what's happening all around them and charge ahead in their own direction.
He knows I think he's a genius too. He walks up to me and says in a sing songy voice, "Oh Miss Moooooossssssssssssssss, you're really really gonna like this one."
Uh yes. I do. I do multiplied by 600. Go on with your bad self!