I just want to go on the record to say,

I BELIEVE IN BIGFOOT!

COME ONE, COME ALL!

On the dog theme…. I had forgotten about a poster I made a few years ago starring Wiggy. I was lounging in the backyard and started shooting pictures of Wiggy for no reason. When I downloaded them onto my computer, I noticed they told a story. A story of a dog and a sprinkler. So modeling it after “Life is Hell” by Matt Groening, I made a big poster and called it “Anatomy of a Relationship.” My significant other was in Turkey for a month, so I made the print to surprise him. I remember being excited and showing it to one of my closest male friends and he said, “You can’t give that to him; it will upset him!” But I thought it was really funny, and thankfully he did too. It was a nice surprise when he got home.
Basically the poster was in rows and it had the verbiage below it. I don’t know if it will have the same effect shown this way, but it still cracks me up. I wonder if Wiggy posed this way for me on purpose. Hmmmm…..

Anatomy of a Relationship


I am so lonely.


Who is that?


Do you come here often?


I have so much fun with you!


Even my friends like you.


I love you.


Do I look fat?


You seem so distant lately.


We don't talk anymore.


Ahhh.... alone at last!

I Miss My Dogs




Yes, they bark nonstop, drool, their farts peel the paint off the wall, and half of my floor is still insulated by their hair, but I miss them. I didn’t realize how much until I had them for the weekend. It wasn’t anything special. I completely tore the guest bathroom apart to paint it a much sunnier and brighter color than advertised on the tiny paint chip (my bathroom is still in pieces in the living room while I decide what to do with the color). I bathed them. Laid in the hammock on the porch with them for a bit while they dried. Bought them new bones to gnaw. They hung out on the front porch and barked at every person that passed, or twig that broke, or car alarm that went off… I put raw eggs in their food as treats. Took them for a late night walk/drag. Nothing to out of the ordinary. Wiggy still walks me to the door when I leave; Dita barely opens one eye. Wiggy always gets up to greet me, even if I just came in from taking out the garbage. Dita still attacks me if I have cheese in my hand; Wiggy salivates over grapes. Wiggy still takes the blame for everything, while Dita takes none. Wiggy is still angst ridden; Dita randomly performs her “happy dances.” Wiggy still loves to sniff and groom Zelda; Dita still tries to eat her. Wiggy still sits near me and sighs loudly when he thinks I am ignoring him; Dita still tries to sit in my lap any chance she gets.
I was relieved when they were gone. I could make my bed without Dita rubbing up against it and destroying the sheets. I could take a nap without them waking me up every four minutes. I could climb into bed at night without having to wonder when was the last time I took them out. I didn’t have to scramble to make sure they had food and water in the morning, when I barely remember to feed myself sometimes. I didn’t have to cover the furniture with crap so they wouldn’t climb on it when I was gone. I didn’t have someone breathing on me constantly, telepathically begging me, “Pay attention to me! Pay attention to me!” But they both have great hearts.
It’s been eight months and I still miss them. And they drive me up the wall. And they make me laugh. And without diving into things too personal, that’s what happens when any relationship ends - for whatever reason (good or bad) or regardless of whoever initiates it, there is still loss. And you still keep feeling it. And it still affects you. Deep in my writing last night, I had a mild panic attack thinking I was ignoring the dogs. And with the calm that came when I realized that they were gone, there also came sadness.
I went to the SPCA about a month ago to see if I could find another dog, and while there were a lot of great ones, there wasn’t one that jumped out at me. I’m not in a rush. I’ll find one. It just has to be right.
And I know this just "screams it," but for once, this is not a metaphor for anything else. Honest.
I just really miss my dogs.

I am very excited about this, and for many reasons.

1. I have derby friends in it.
2. It’s going to me an amazing smorgasbord of various art forms and artists
3. It’s all local.
4. It’s reasonably priced – I don’t have to pay $25 to see a bunch of GI Joes glued to the floor in an obscene way. All right, CAC! It’s about time.

I might go both nights, I am that thrilled!

ART: IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER #2

This is my most recent acquisition. As in, the credit card statement hasn’t even arrived on my doorstep yet.



There are many different stories on this piece. So, in typical fashion, I will jump around a bit.

Last weekend at Jazz Fest, while I was pursuing the Contemporary Craft section with my friend, Trix, I saw many of the artists that I had seen before at The American Craft Council Shows in Baltimore. The show in Baltimore is a juried show with over 800 artists from around the world. The first few days are for wholesale only – gallery owners come from all over the country to place orders. The last few days are for retail only. People travel from all over the country (mainly the East Coast) to buy things directly from artists’ booths. It’s a great show, although it always falls around Mardi Gras, the food prices are astronomical, it’s freezing and the air in the convention center is comparable to sitting on an airplane for 12 hours straight. But…. you get to see some great art. Many of the art pieces I will be writing about in the future came from that show.

Anyway, I told Trix about this one artist I wanted to get Chris Roberts-Antieau Roberts-Antieau makes “fabric paintings” She rocks the appliqué tradition. While I love animals, I tend to shy away from “animal art” in general; it makes me feel just a little bit too precious. But aside from the basic skill and craft of Roberts-Antieau’s work, there is a deep, slightly twisted humor to it. My favorites tend to be her “Bad Habits” and “Manners” series. I have also seen some amazing work from her 2005 collection that included a Circus series and King Kong piece. In her new collection she even has one “Alligator Attacks” and another one of Jerry Lawler pile driving Andy Kaufman. Not topics you usually see on quilts. How she does it?

“She hunts through old five-and-dimes and tiny country quilt shops to collect a palette of fabrics: linens, flannels, cottons, calicos-even velvet. Back in her studio in the Michigan woodlands, she cuts her designs freehand, then uses the sewing machine as a drawing tool to define the borders of her figures with a beautiful, almost invisible satin-stitch. She finishes her pieces with hand-embroidery work, and then frames the finished art behind glass in hand-painted frames.”

Wow… being raised by quilters (Great Grandmother, Grandmother, Mother) and doing some quilting myself, you can’t help but be impressed by the skills involved. While my family has/had a tendency to veer toward the more traditional forms of quilting, I have always been drawn to the storybook quilts. And even though I have yet to master quilting, or to even learn appliqué, it’s my favorite form. I love the hidden messages and symbolism involved in the storybook quilts. My mom recently has been experimenting with form and making some amazing pieces.


My mom made this one based on a comic book cover from the 1940s. It looks even better close up

I feel if my Great-grandmother (Ivy Love Green – what a magical name) was still alive today, she would be doing the same thing. I have seen many of her quilts, but by the time I was born, her hands had become too riddled with arthritis to do the thing she loved. Instead, she would color coloring books for me. I remember sitting next to her (she always smelled liked roses) while she would color “Proverbs.” The one I remember the most, and have always taken to heart, was her coloring in the picture of a boy helping an elderly woman across the street – “Handsome is as handsome does.”

All right, so how is that for jumping around?

Back to Jazz Fest, Trix and I went to visit my friend, Mitchell Guadet, who owns Studio Inferno. I am lucky to own one of Mitchell’s pieces (which I will write about later) and would one day like to acquire more. We chatted for a while and then I walked around the corner, and right next to Mitchell’s booth was Chris Roberts-Antieau! Her first time at Jazz Fest! I was stunned and excited. I had actually tried to buy a piece 2 years ago and it fell through (some damn emergency came up where I had to spend money on something “practical”). Going through her booth, I recognized many of her traditional pieces; I was also thrilled to see a series of blues artists (I assume specifically made for Jazz Fest) and then I saw him…. John Lee Hooker – one of my favorite blues men (he is tied with Booker T. Laury). I first discovered Hooker back in 1987-88 (much to the dismay of my friends who were still absorbing the Top 40 radio). My friends could barely tolerate Elvis and Jerry Lee, but they would demand I turn him off when they came into my bedroom. I loved Hooker. Born in Mississippi to sharecroppers, his sound was simultaneously yearning, cocky, confident, passionate and pained. If I had to nail down favorites it would be: Boom! Boom! Dimples (“You’re my babe, I got my eyes on you”) I Need Some Money, and my all-time favorite – You Know, I Know.




Look at these details!





With recent events, I tried to be sensible, but Hooker was calling for me. I decided to walk around and think about it. And think about it was all I could do. So right before the BINGO! Show, I went over and bought it. They agreed to hold it for me until Jazz Fest ended so I didn’t have to carry it around with me. Poor Trix and I got separated, and she stopped back by the booth, and was sorry to call and break the news to me, “I am sorry, your piece is gone. Someone else bought it.” I was happy to tell her that I was the one who bought it. That’s when I knew I made the right decision.


It took a couple of days to decide where John was going to go, but now he hangs on the entrance to my bedroom, looking cool in his light-colored shirt and dark-sunglasses. “Ain’t No Big Thing.”



He’s a wonderful addition.