Monthly Archives: April 2013

To oblivion and beyond.

As Buzz would say.


O.K. so he wouldn’t, but he could have, and with a little make up he def could look the spitting image of Tom. No?


O.K. maybe a lot of make up, but they have the same eyebrows.

Bottom line, it was better than Olympus has Fallen, but we left with more questions than made sense. Half way through it took on a bit of a, what?, theme, but Tom wasn’t so bad to look at I suppose, so all wasn’t that lost. Looking forward to Star Trek and the Great Gatsby now.

Spent yesterday, before the movies, glazing plates. I really am already disappointed with the outcome and they’re not in the kiln yet.

Oh yes, they look alright now.








But lets just wait and see what 1800 + F does for them.

I’m not holding my breath.

The photos are a bit dull, I’ll try to replace them later with better ones. Off to the farmers market now. I’ve got to get my health back on ;)


More tea Vicar?

So I woke up this morning thinking that I’d got it all wrong and the art festival was today after all.

Well, I’d be a bit late that’s for sure.

It all started because, for a month now, I kept telling myself, and everyone else, that the show was going to be on the 27th, but then I got my acceptance letter and it said it was on the 5th of May. Of course, because I just knew they’d messed up, I still worried that it was on the 27th. Yes, I did go to the, maybe they’re trying to squeeze me out by giving me the wrong info, place but, only for a fraction of a small paranoid moment, and then I told all my peeps that the 5th it was.

However, panic set in as I sat here this morning, drinking my tea, thinking about life, the universe and everything, and how much jewelry I have hanging around yet I can’t seem to stop making it, and how on earth will I ever get rid of it all, and will the finale of, The Following, be as good as we expect it to be or just another false alarm, when suddenly I just knew the festival was today and I’d blown one of my only chances to sell some of the darn stuff.

Yes, I only do one festival. Time to re-think that now that I’m a recovering super-chicken.

This, and the bizarro dreams, has led me to believe that I may, perhaps, just a smidgen, most likely have a little, (like this much         ),  anxiety problem.

Me thinks more tea is in order.

Poster Pop on Etsy

Poster Pop on Etsy

Don’t worry, I checked and it is the 5th.

I’m drinking my tea right now out of this,

Magpie Pottery

Magpie Pottery

It’s my new favourite. The size is perfect, the rim is the optimal thickness, it has a pleasing shape, and, most importantly, just look at that bird. As we all know, these are exactly the requirements needed for great tasting tea.

Yesterday I cleaned the studio even more than I did the last time by getting out the little blue shop vac and actually vacuuming the floor. Man it was bad. First I had to vacuum the filter of the vacuum. It was so chocked up with stuff from previous, garage related, vacuuming that it wouldn’t suck up a feather. So I got out the big orange shop vac and vacuumed the insides of the blue one. It was kind of like a dad giving his kid a good once over before sending him out into the real world. I have now decided to keep the little blue one for myself. P can have the big one. I haven’t told him yet as I know he’s very possessive of his ‘toys’.

Then I made this.


with green t-shirt on!


Now, this may not sound extraordinary to you, but to my close peeps, this is huge, right? And, yesterday it was a dusty red one!

Perhaps this is why I’m having the, (this big          ) anxiety stuff going on right now.

Maybe it’s back to black today.

Which leads to ….

For your entertainment.

O.K. so perhaps the whole funeral thing isn’t that entertaining, but it’s still good.

Happy Friday people.


(N.B. So, it’s Saturday. See, anxiety right there ….)

Nosferatu, Modigliani, and Inspector Gadget.

Often my unconscious world is an explosion of activity, and I wake exhausted.

Last night, or I should say this morning as that’s when it seemed all the action was taking place, I was back at university. I had no clothes yet a policeman borrowed one of my bras – a mint green one, (don’t ask). I cooked the biggest potato known to mankind which surprisingly fitted into one of my smallest saucepans. I cried over my mum, I chatted with my aunt and uncle, I gave a sofa to a woman having my surrogate baby – she didn’t want it but I didn’t care, the sofa that is. I valet parked at school – shouldn’t we all. I had to explain that my sister was twenty to a weird little creepy teacher who thought she was just a very mature eight year old. (She’s actually forty-eight, but I think that would have freaked him out even more). We laughed at a satellite photo of how one part of our fence hadn’t been re-stained – in a, in your face, protest of the deed restriction nazi neighbourhood people.

Yes, big brother’s been on our back recently for fence violation, and the missing teeny-weeny flower shaped knob on the post box. Man! You’d think they’d have better things to do, especially as the fence looks fine, and, you have to believe me when I tell you, the knob on the post box is about an inch round. They probably had to use their special Inspector Gadget extending eyeballs to see that one.

They probably stole it in the first place.

And so the dream went on, scene after scene, bizarreness after bizarreness. Mostly to do with school, but I believe there was a toilet drama in there somewhere. Thankfully it wasn’t as traumatic as the time I was on a train, in the countryside, in the dead of night, and Nosferatu cycled by and looked me in the eye. That was a little disturbing. Or the time I was Steven Seagal and … O.K perhaps we shouldn’t go there.


I used to have this poster on the wall when I was at art college. Perhaps it messed with my mind.

Note to self: No more creepy posters. Stick with the distorted female figures of Modigliani. They’re safer.


O.K. Perhaps this one isn’t.

She’s got angry eyes. And that double chin isn’t doing much for her either.

So, this is how my mornings usually begin. It’s like I’ve lived the whole day before it’s started. I actually feel worn out and ready for bed now.


New stuff going on in the jewelry department.


Cherry Creek Jasper


Silver Lace Onyx


sorry, forgot what this is


dinosaur bone (how cool is that!)

Will I be able to cope with this much excitement, I wonder loudly to myself.

I think very possibly I will.


I’ve made

A banner. And it’s really big and in your face and a bit scary.

4′ x 2.5′ scary to be exact.


It’s for my booth at the art festival.

It going to scream, lookee, here I am, and then I’m going to have to talk to people and try to sell my jewelry to them, and that’s why it’s going to be scary.

I’m not good at that bit.

But, as I grow up, and, as in prezbillyjeff’s words to Stephen Colbert, I’d be a slug not to, I am determined to realize goal #2 in my effort to make another $10,000 for charity. So it has to be done people. The fear stops here (maybe).

It’s not going to be an easy feat considering I am the original super-chicken.

Yes, you might well have been wondering why I named my studio Cold Feet. It’s just a more tasteful way of saying chicken sh#t.

Actually it’s served me well. People remember my name, and, if you’re not super-chicken, that’s a good thing, right?

Next up I think I will make me a super-chicken t-shirt. Then I’ll be the whole package.

I’ll get back to you on that one.


Wouldn’t you know there’s already a super-chicken.

Only I think he has the wrong idea about the whole being a chicken thing.

Oh well. Back to the drawing board.

Get your own banner – here, you know you want one. And it’s only $20. How’s that for making an art festival possibly the most uncomfortable attention seeking experience you’ll ever have.

My stomach’s hurting already.

And this

Is why I don’t’ like PMC (precious metal clay).


Oh yes, it all sounds good. You can do stuff with it never attempted before, or so the rumours will have you believe, but, look at it. There must be a thousand billion dollars of the stuff on my fingers right here. And all the things I’ve ended up making with it so far are really nothing to do cartwheels over. Most of it I’ve ended up heating down into balls to use in other projects because I’m just not happy with the outcome.

Very distressing, and it makes my fingers look chubby!

After the initial stage of trying to re-condition the dried out clay from my last frustrating attempt to use it, I did manage to get it into a more stable form and not get any on my fingers, but why bother is what I want to know. It’s expensive, it’s fiddly, it’s annoying, and, so far I’ve made nothing I like out of it. So I will finish up using the blob I have and never buy the stuff again.

It’s actually a relief to find something I don’t want to do for a change. I feel a little grieving coming on for an opportunity not fully exploited, but to continue is madness.

I might very well end up in some twelve step programme if I don’t give up some of this stuff now.

Life as I know it.

Last night Robert Downey Jr. looked away from me with abject disdain because I failed my history exam. He was my professor, I was at university, and, for the second year in five, I had flunked my exams because I hadn’t been to class, read the books, written the essays, etc. etc. etc. Same old, it’s too late to fix it, scenario.

And that, people, is what watching the Iron Man 3 trailer can do to a fragile mind

You have been cautioned. Watch at your own peril.

So we went to see a movie, and as no one could make up their mind between – aliens, bank robberies, terrorist or the tried and true psychological thriller, we let P decide, and terrorists it was (see here). (I would have gone with the psychological thriller, but that’s just me). I enjoyed it insofar as it satisfied my need to beat the c*^p out of something, but really, the whole time I was in the cinema I felt really anxious. Was the guy sitting next to me – the one with the creepy, fired up body language – going to get out his gun and shoot us all. I’d be the first to go of course, and I still have to fold the laundry – so unfair. Because that happens now, and when we go to see these movies that get us all riled up and defensive I really believe it changes us. Even I don’t want to buy a Kia now because we have to shun Korea (O.K. so Kia is South Korean, not North but you get the point). Just in case you didn’t, the point is – what’s that about! It’s not cool is what it is, and it’s not the someone I want to be, but it creeps up and gets us, and before we know it we’re those people we don’t understand. You know, the ones full of hatred and fear and anger.

And then there’s the, let’s get a quick laugh in, lame jokes while our heroes are standing over the wasteland of (their own) dead people. I don’t know, but to me that just seems to make a mockery of – well, humanity really.

I don’t usually feel this way. I enjoy a good, beat ’em up, action movie as much as the next person, but I did wonder if we wouldn’t benefit a little more from watching a multicultural drama that perhaps showed more of our traditions and way of life so that we could better understand each other rather than the same old, us and them, storyline. The world’s a pretty interesting place after all.

Perhaps I’m just getting old. Man! Just another thing to add to my Monday woes …

O.K. shake it off people. Time to lighten up.

Update on the painting.

Old one finished.


O.K. now that I’m looking at it here – what are those love hearts doing? They need to get out of there quick before I go over to the other side completely, and those two houses down bottom. Hideous.

Did I ever mention I have trouble finishing anything? Or liking it come to that.

Here’s one waiting for its next step.


Let’s see how long it takes to ruin this one.

And here’s that one I started a couple of days ago.

It’s kind of in its, naaah, stage. Like – what exactly was you aiming for with this one?


And here, we have the beginnings of a new one.


Is it time to throw away the brushes again, is my question.

So, today I am going to clean all my jewelry in preparation for the upcoming art festival.

How ’bout you?


Strange how sometimes something pops up when you’ve just finished writing your, moping about wallowing in the negative, blog post that’s just the ticket.




The oil pastels came out.


I knew they would.


My stickers came.


Don’t ask me what I’m going to do with them.

If you need some stickers, (I know you know you do) run now to Moo, or forever hold your peace.

Not quite.

Well, it’s not coming along too badly.


We’ve definitely got some Pepto Bismol stuff going on, and it’s pretty boring on the whole, but I haven’t quite given up yet, although I’m sorely tempted to set the oil pastels on it, which is a sure-fire way for it to end up in the trash.

Here’s its progress.




Now, to tone down the antacid and try to get a little excitement back.

On a side note, S, in his rebellious stage, painted his bedroom Pepto Bismol pink a few years back.

Last laugh on him though as he had to live with it for a year before I let him paint it back to a more manly shade of – well, anything really.

Can you imagine. It makes me want to throw up just looking at it in this painting. I couldn’t cope with waking to it each morning. Probably explains why he went through his falling asleep on the couch period.

Note to S. I will always win.

Give up now.


To paint.

It doesn’t take much for me to want to have a go at everything.

Give me a day at an art festival and I come home elated, and depressed at the same time.

No time to do it alllll.

Now I have to paint, make a mosaic – but first fire up some pottery to make it with, and make more quilts. All that, and the jewelry still needs me, and I have a strange hankering to get to some flea markets quick, because I just know there is a new adventure waiting for me there.

I lost my Corel when I dropped my old laptop and, of course, couldn’t find the c.d. to upload on this new one, or move over the one I have from there to here. So last night, in a fit of abandon, I bought a new one. Not the free, little, you can play but you can’t know all my secrets, Corel that I had before, but the real, yes I’m going to cost you some (read loads of) money, but you know you want me, one.

Oh well.

To practice on it I’ve made me a sketch which I’m now going to go out to the studio with and attempt to relay in acrylics and perhaps oil pastels, depending on how bad the acrylics decide to mess up. For sure the oil pastels will follow quickly in the acrylic’s footsteps and everything will end up in the bin.


Prepare yourselves for moaning and groaning and the same ol’, sorry for myself giving up painting again, scenario.

You’ve got to know it’s coming ….


Don’t ask me what’s going on here, but it looks as though the San Andreas fault has bust its sides and squidged up those poor houses again.

And I thought I had troubles.

Did she run out of things to say?

I hear you wondering loudly to yourselves …

I think not!

Today is brought to you from the sofa after a day of wandering happily, and touching carefully, all the lovely art things at the Woodlands Waterway Art Festival, here in TX.

And, it was a beautiful day. It got a bit hot towards the end of the trek up and down the waterway, but we made it back to the car and into the Cheesecake Factory without too much moaning.

O.K. a bit of moaning.

Here are some of my favourite artist of the day.

Ronald Linton


Tim Peters


Alex Horst


Brian McGuffey


Terrell Powell


Deborah Bloom


Michele Ledoux

533892_10151516638772180_2147404283_nSteven and Beth Radtke


Denise Greenwood-Loveless


Chelsea Stone


Tanya Doskova


And my very, very favorite,

Steven Graber


Unfortunately I couldn’t buy them all …


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