Viva Frida

Viva Frida

Precious Little Doll

Okay, in person it's really cute, but I am the world's worst photographer in perfect conditions. This is a metal paper doll homage to Keith LoBue. The face is that photocopy-and-iron transfer process of a photo I took of Keith when I did Precious Little in 2003 - doesn't show up here. The body is a smashed and cut maple sugar mold. The crown, procaliming "sage" is a bit of a rusty spice container I've been saving for a couple of years. The breast plate is a rusty bottle cap, found in a scrounge session in the alley behind my husband's store, as were the hands. His magic wand is a mica star on twisted wire. The whole thing is wired together - no glue, cold connections. He has a lovely rusty bolt for a neck and bits of copper mesh for wings and the stripes on his legs.

Miss 'moselle

Art Teachers

That's our fearless leader, Tracy Isom , on the left. The Flower lady is Janice Cain, tree farmer, master gardener in the making AND art teacher.

My Week of Shirking

Here are all 7 of my dolls from the past week. I have only shirked the blogging part of this, not the paper doll part. I have had very little time for are because I have spent every spare minute getting ready for our annual district-wide elementary art show. Yup, no time for art because of art. Huh? Court had a big week, winning the 400 meters in her first track meet and scoring a BEYOOTIFUL goal off a wicked spin move in her first Coed travel soccer match. Whit has had a good sports week, too. They are also both playing aau this weekend. ick - i hate aau basketball - it brings out the worst in people.

Happy Daylight Savings

Sometimes...

Sometimes I don't wanna do this.

Stripey Doll

I was looking at a wesbsite for dolls yesterday that I got from a link on Teesha Moore's site. They kinda look like this.

I has a wierd dream last night that when I got the Santino tshirt I ordered in the mail, it was a hoodie instead and I didn't like it. Seems like there was something else in the box, too, that I hadn't ordered.

First full day of Spring - Snow Day - No School.

Mad Clown

No, the clown isn't mad; I am. Boiling mad over, of course, something I can't control. I do not think of myself as being a generally angry person. The things that make me mad are like people in "power" rationalizing stupid decisions to get their own way, other opinions that should have value being marginalized and regular people fronting like they are special and expecting the universe the universe to walk high, wide and handsome around them, and when people give in to the self appointed "special" people. I never park in the fire lane to run in Wal Mart. I put my cart in the cart retrun. I do not cheat in the express line. I count my stuff BEFORE I get in line. Why? I am REGULAR - not special. There is nothing I need inWalmart SO badly that I would block the fire lane. This is the bit about Barney wrecking our country. Remember that song he sang - "special, special, everybody's special" That's a lie - most of us are regular. If everybody was special, special would be the new regular.

Here's to the regular, plain and ordinary. Thank God for ordinary.

Bird Girl 2

Bird by Bird

I am reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. You should read it, too.

Four Dolls

This is a catch-up day of sorts. I haven't missed a day of making apaper doll yet, but I haven't posted anything new since Tuesday. The posting thing is hard for me. Sometimes I hate doing it late at night, when I should go to bed so I won't be so draggy in the mornings and sometimes I just feel like it's a waste of time because I don't really have anything smart or funny to write and I hate to post because I am a terrible typist. I took typing - yes it was called typing - not keyboarding - when I was in high school - when I was a junior, I think. The teacher was called Mr. Bultman. Lester Bultman. He was about 60, I suppose, and wore a bolo tie and had a big gray pompadour hair do. I had too many pals inthe class and I didn't pay attention very well and I just COULD NOT make my fingers do all that stuff from the "home row", so I am doomed to be a hunt and peck typist forever looking at my fingers.

My biscuit is still burnt over Santino losing Project Runway, but I have since read that if you take the prize $$, Project Runway retains the rights and gets the $$ from a percentage of YOUR NAME! Jay McCarroll turned down the prize to stay independent. And I know Santino isn't for sale, so it's probably good that he didn't win.

I think Barney, the purple dinosaur, ruined our country. That, my friend, is a tease. More on this fascinating theory later.

peace, love and paper,

Debbi

anthro head girl

Le Clowntino

This is the fifth Santino paper doll I have made since the finale. Am I obsessed? "Obsession" is such an ugly word ( and such a stinky perfume) that I tend to shy away from it. I would rather think of myself as "intensely interested". I mean, I dig the guy's work and I think he shudda won. It's like when my team gets beat and it's clearly due to poor officiating.

Daniel V. - Those purses were hideous. You did not need to worry about Santino stealing your design. You wish. In your dreams. You would have been lucky if Santino had thrown them under the bus.

The Santangels

Santino Was Robbed

Everybody knows santino
ruled the runway and Michael and Nina were just too proud to admit they had been dead wrong about My Boy. It's funny to me that all of the bloggers who said they edited the show to make Santino look bad until last week and then they tried to make him look better NEVER say a word about how they edited the show to make Daniel look like the Nice Guy and Chloe look like the Good Business Woman...WHO, by the way, SAID SHE WASN'T SURE IF SHE WANTED TO WIN. So here's my paper homage to Le Santino. Dude, you KNEW what you wanted to say and you have the skill and visual vocabulary to say it. Sew on, little soldier.

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63, 64