wetly cashes philosophy

Growth as an [artist] and as a human being are synonymous. (Stella Adler)

Holy moly, I just got to the studio and drove by one of the open areas between the buildings and THERE WAS A FLORIDA PANTHER in mid-leap.  And a big white truck right behind him.  He was frozen in that leap so I zipped to my own building and ran back to see what in hell was happening.  Turns out there was a young couple moving her dad's taxidermy collection to storage, and what a collection it was-  all from his African safaris and she had accompanied him on a few.  She started pointing out some and knew where each came from and what it was.  There were perhaps 30 heads already in the storage unit and the full sized whole animals were coming out next.  I did wait for the bison head to be taken off just 'because', but this was extraordinary to see.

Except that she said her dad was older now, he was 72, and downsizing his house because of his age.   Oy.  Her husband wants to move all of them to their house but she kinda rolled her eyes at me and said it isn't going to happen.  Oh, and it wasn't a Florida panther, some other kind of mountain lion I missed-  but taller than I am.  And that's my news of the day.  Who says living in an industrial park is boring.

I worked on the blasted ATCs and got a few more fused up and ready to go, shoot me in the head if I ever say I'll do this again-  I have too much else I WANT to be working on.   They will probably reprimand me for no stitching'.  I'll let you know.

Here's the show where I got the second prize in painting.  I will go visit it Monday to see what in the world else they call painting!  But hey, I'm not going to argue, a prize is a prize is a prize and if it's a Painter they want, I'll BE the painter!

All this Buffalo news now about their incredible snow storm has me thinking about my childhood.  Back then we lived across the street from a Girl Scout camp which was empty except for a few weeks in the summer.  I admit it was somewhat of a neighborhood hang out-  in the spring there was a huge field of tiny wild strawberries and there would be five or six of us lying on our bellies grabbing every little red morsel in reach.  The lake was also there, the other side of the town swimming and park, so it was private and had a couple of docks where we could canoe to or swim off, naturally without our parents having a clue where we were.  

The lake wasn't very deep so it would freeze early in the season and we would ice skate in the cove.  It was never my 'sport' because my hands and feet would swell up to twice their size as soon as I got cold, sometimes unable to get the damn skates off so I would have to walk home crying with pain.  The solution was for my dad to flood the back yard, and I remember thinking that was the coolest thing-  and yesterday I found a how-to to do it but I swear it was in my yard!

He set boards in a rectangle  over the lawn, then laid poly over the whole thing.  he worked at a seed company and had a huge roll of it as I remember.  All that was staked down and somewhat leveled, and the hose was pulled out to fill it.  It took forever, but that night was cold enough to freeze it solid, so the next morning we were out there going full speed for about 20 feet before crashing into the boards.  Forced me to learn how to turn, but a season of this was enough to end my future plans to be a headliner in the ice capades.  Every day after school we would skate, crash into each other, and end up in a fight until my fingers were too painful to do anything but go inside.  Doctor told me I had an allergic reaction to the cold and the Rx was to STAY INSIDE.  Sigh.  

I still hate the cold, can't get warm, and have the amazing experience of never missing a nor'easter when I go to Boston to see the kids.  Without fail.  And I'm leaving Monday.

Kind of a Seascape today-

 New York-based artist Mary O’Malley (previously) continues her fantastic amalgamations of porcelain dishware encrusted with ocean life titled Bottom Feeders. Like any object resting on the ocean floor, her sculptures have become increasingly swarmed by flora and fauna over the years, with some of her most recent pieces appearing wholly consumed by coral, seaweed, crustaceans, and tentacles. O’Malley creates everything you see by hand, the teapots and other dishes are thrown and hand-built porcelain, to which she adds sculpted wildlife coated with red iron oxide

CATHERINE MCEVER   My early experiments with stitching seaweed began over a year ago (see Seaweed Experiment: Stitching Seaweed) and addressed a very basic question: Can you stitch seaweed? Continuing the process has depended on securing seaweed from the beaches of Monterey Bay, which has required learning about seaweed season, tides, and transport and storage issues. This round of experiments involved a steep learning curve; some things worked, some things didn't. This post offers a look at the first of two seaweed creations I'd like to share.Stuff You Can't Have: seaweed

This is ALMOST a squirrel, a license plate Teddy sent me the other day-  read it..get it?  

Love it!