Trophies, take one

Here are my "practice heads" in the order in which they were finished. The heads are all between 1" and 2" exclusive of hair and horns. You really have to click on the individual pictures to see them, as the shiny details don't show up at this size.

This one has hairplugs made of a child's halloween wig, rooted in follicles. I wish I had used less hair, but the follicles were there, and demanded tribute.


This one has a woven wig, made of extension hair from a ghetto beauty supply store. You can see a bit of the weaving in the second pic. It was very time consuming and fun, so I'm sure it will come in handy in the future. Don't mind the stray hairs hanging in his face. He also has horns fashioned out of glitter clay.

This is a kind of lousy portrait of an old friend-any guesses?



This one I did in a few minutes, hastily throwing it together to test a technique I found on the internet. I brushed the bronze powder on the clay before baking, and it did stick. I was skeptical.
I think it looks like some kind of zombie from a B-movie about voodoo. Not crazy about the sculpture, but happy about how it looks on the mount.

I happened to have the little shells dyed a similar color, so he has Buddha 'hair'. My favorite part is the scrap left over from the feathers of martyred peacocks. I saved it when I cut the eye parts of the feathers off, and I had to glue each feather shard on individually. Also very entertaining.



I hope to have better heads soon, with more durable horn mounts and hopefully some more 3-D shit, such as bodies. It is damn good to know where all my supplies are, for once. My photos suck.

new lounge

After a month of illness (an ulcer diagnosed and treated by my in-house naturopath-$40, total) I put my sights on rehabilitating our midgety back "yard". It's been a great place to get vitamin D and complain about the corruption of the FDA, the constant transit fare increases, and the general travails of life in this "sanctuary city for the rich".


The ivy is coming back in, after last year's slaughter. I'm supposed to revile it, but a can't, no more than the snails. Above, the plant god is attacked by ivy clingers-they are attempting to invade his eye socket.

I have my boneyard laid out, no complaints from 'management'.


I really am unrepentant about the snails. None of the plants on our floor is in danger of ravishment!


My Dad gave me this cow. A butcher job, clearly, poor thing. Now on to the obligatory cliche: Look how cute my cat is. He has become so much more friendly since we have been hanging around outside.

This shot glass is my hairdryer

I am trying to give this guy hairplugs, so I had to prop him up as they dry. Check back in a few days for the completed horror.

R.I.P. Bea Arthur

Sad news, but I guess 86 years is a pretty good run. Times obit:

http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2009/04/25/arts/AP-US-Obit-Arthur.html?_r=1&ref=obituaries

Best slip of the tongue in months!

Well, almost as good as "My fellow prisoners...".

PBS news hour. Not Lehrer, but some other guy, asked the a Representative weather it was important for Chrysler to stay afloat, so that "Money has people to spend"!

That's about the size of everything, isn't it?

I once heard a journalist, during the Bush administration, ask his subject about 'our' "Stragedy in Iraq". Chew on them apples, I thought.

Anyone heard anything accurate in the mis-spoke department lately? Comments, please.

The CFO of Freddie Mac commits suicide-yet I am still needed to evaluate department store websites (while wearing a neurofeedback headband & having my eye movements infrared scanned).

Meanwhile, a friend told me that 1,000 people applied to a downtown homeless shelter with 350 (already full) beds-yesterday.

There's no 'may' about it, we live in "interesting times".

Anyway, thanks PBS, for nutshelling it when you mean to, and sometimes when you don't.

On that note, please check out this Bill Moyers episode from last week. 2 Parts:


http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/04172009/watch.html

http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/04172009/watch2.html

It's David Simon, the writer for The Wire, and a former journalist. It oughta make everyone's mouth hang open a little.

Next time, more silly pictures and lighthearted shit.

Soccer Moms, eat your heart out.

I finally finshed my scrapbook, after 2 grueling days of layering assorted adhesives on it. The photos are index prints from my old Wallgreen's CDs, destined for the circular pit. At the last minute, I picked out the ones that 'read' the best at under 1" and mounted them.
The whole scrapbook is 2 1/2" square. I didn't do this very often, so few people will recognize themselves. The ingredients are photos, cardstock, paper, 2 glues, fabric, and acrylic gel. I use a magnifying glass to browse it.

Mourning Period

Bad Kitty! Evil Nurse OJ brought an injured Mourning dove into the alley at about 4:30 this afternoon. He played with it like the asshole he is, strewing feathers all about the alley.This vicious cat will get his just desserts when he is punished with a lion cut later this spring!

3 1/2 hours later, he brought the poor living dove back into our room and attempted to play with it in the area we reserve for pillows!

After the good old manpal had moved the poor bird to a cement planting bed in the backyard, I went out to visit it and decide weather I might be able to take the situation under hand and snap it's poor neck. Hell, no! It looked at me with it's adorable pink head, blinking.

Glenn and Johnathan both insisted that someone should do the horrible deed, out of mercy. I agreed, but it was a battle of meat eater (who should be brave) and vegetarian (who should "care more"). In the end, he went solemnly into the back yard, and I followed. Our dear little friend was gone. I only hope his demise was quick and painless.

Bad Kitty, who still has down in his claws, and will receive only dry food tonight-and is not allowed to sleep with us.