Art!

Downward to the Cave...

This is another piece from my journal...not necessarily crafting-related, but interesting nonetheless...

I have wandered

The woods that I have known

Since I was a child.

When I was young (and the world spun along

a perfect circle),

I had a recurring dream:

Digging into the earth,

I found a treasure,

Long hidden,

Safely kept.

That dream is coming true. The more time I spend in that space, the more I realize that my childhood has been hidden from me, by me--I have buried a great deal of myself somewhere in that secretive valley. There's a mutability to the landscape that I had never noticed before--it was fixed in my mind when I left it behind ten years ago, and there it has stayed ever since. A part of me still goes, 'This was here yesterday!' A part of me is still that wondering, wandering child, asking, 'Why?'

Among the rocks, there is something waiting. I hope it's me.

Hidden away in a valley that is almost vertical, there stands a cave. It's not impressive for anything other than the fact that it exists, and it will not always. In a hundred thousand years, it will not be there. It's not impressively deep. It's not spectacularly beautiful. It's a shallow hollow in the rocks, filled with moss and the excrement of the pigeons that nest up in the roof. But it is a sacred place for me. The valley is a challenge. In the ten lost years, the landscape has radically altered, after a torrential flood and a tornado leveled the trees for miles around, making what was once a pleasantly challenging hike a trial.

I want so badly to bring somebody else to the cave, to show them a new thing, as I was shown it, many, many moons ago. I want them to see it, when the wildflowers are in bloom, when there is green all around.

While I'm wishing,and speaking of changes, I want Biscuit back. I miss hiking with him. He was a Feist (sp?), a little black squirrel dog with soulful brown eyes, short legs, and a beaver tail. He was a free yard sale dog, always eager for love and attention. It's hard, the first time you realize that your pets aren't going to be there forever. I wasn't there when Dixie went. I wasn't there when Biscuit went. I miss them. That house, that place just isn't the same without them. A walk in the woods isn't the same.

I want to see the spring again, and the creek, through the eyes of a child. I want my childhood back. What have I left buried? I have divested myself of so much that I just dismissed as unnecessary--what awaits me among the unassuming trees?

Robert, Supreme Overlord of Earth

This is Robert. He's a diminutive politician, running for the office of Supreme Overlord of Earth. He's running on a platform of...the bones of all those who oppose him! Hail the Harvesty Golden World Order! Hail the rise of he who has but one eye!!!!!

Anyway, I decided to take him out with me today, as I have nothing better to do on a day off but wander aimlessly around Conway taking pictures...I could have taken photos of the local landscape, pretty pictures of the slightly decrepit buildings, the railroad tracks, the signs that say "Keep out! This means you, photography students!"

I really wish I were kidding about that last one...because that abandoned factory would have been awesome. I guess I'm not the first one to have that particular brainstorm.

I have wasted yet another perfectly good afternoon hanging out in Conway. And why not? I figure it'll be the last pretty spring day I'll see this December.


Who puts up a sign like that, anyway? I can understand not wanting someone to come onto your property to vandalize, but to just single out people who only wanna take pictures? I don't get it. Maybe I'm bitter.

If I ever get rich, I'm gonna buy a couple of vacant lots and invite artists in. People to do ephemeral art, graffiti, chalk, photography, installations...leave a space to the artists and see what gets made...


Maybe I'm being a little naive. Maybe it'll turn into a heroin den, or people will get their brains bashed out with hammers while they're in there....who knows...

I am growing increasingly enamored with idea of placing an armature inside one of these guys...if nothing else, I could place a wire through his arms and make him poseable. I don't know...my brain is going to weird places while I'm sitting here. One of these days, I'm gonna get my head put back together...one of these days I'm going to make a very surprised-looking Critter with angel wings designed to perch atop the Christmas tree...

I keep saying 'one of these days'...it's my catchphrase...

Something Brewing...

Coffee is really my life's blood. I don't want to hear any arguments from people who just don't get it. I certainly don't want to hear how it's supposedly bad for me, or how it makes me bitchy, because I'm just not! Gah!

That being said, I have spent the afternoon at my favorite coffee shop, Something Brewing here in Conway. I have spent several afternoons here...in fact, I read almost all of Dracula here, snacking on the soup du jour and muttering incoherently to myself about how much I hated va Helsing's broken English. I have made several hats here, flipping pages in between rounds and marveling at the magnificent, expansive trashiness of L. Ron Hubbard's Battlefield Earth....

I find myself oddly approachable here...

I think that I'm going to go on a walking tour of downtown Conway. Or not. I haven't quite decided. I'll keep you posted. And take pictures...

Clarence

Dreaming of Spacesuits...

Man, the last few days have been interesting.

I've been trying to do a Critter a day. Some days, like days off, this isn't much of a challenge. But on days when I work, I'm usually doing pretty well if I get anything started before ten o'clock. Here it is, ten, and I haven't even started Robert's spacesuit.

"You wanna put me in a costume? Just you try it, mister..."

Anyway, I'm dreading Christmas this year. I have so much to do, and so much left undone. I gotta get to work...

Signing out...

New Critters