Molly Goatwax

Musing.....

I have taken the mechanism and dial from a cheap kitchen timer to install in one of my pieces, perhaps I will make my own dial or lever. The important thing is to have it tick and then ring, to startle the viewer. If not to startle the viewer than at least expand the senses that my work assaults. Speaking of which, while at the dollar store in line to purchase this timer, my eyes flickered over the air fresheners! Somehow I must incorporate an everlasting odor into one of my pieces, but I'd rather it be bacon than a chemical floral....

Freedom

Today marks six months since I've had a cigarette. And I am finally back in five pocket jeans-the elastic waisted granny pants I wore 'cause I blew up like a balloon went into the bin. Yay, me. I still want a smoke but it's too painful to quit to pick it up again. But! The best part is, besides feeling better and besides the thousand dollars I have not spent on them since, there are days when I don't think about them at all!

The way things connect

I was pleased today when a patron came by to buy Soap is for Rich People. I included with the purchase a cake of goat's milk and honey soap, which, at six dollars a cake, is soap for rich people. I opened a bottle of beer on it and we had a nice conversation about appropriation and attribution. It's refreshing to have a visual discussion with another artist. It's especially helpful to illustrate the talk with pictures on the laptop. What did we do before the internet? We had to think a lot harder, said my friend.

more noodling

Lately I have been trying to get a body of work camera ready for an online grant submission. So I have been taking pictures of the pieces, filtering and sizing them correctly in computer imaging, then noticing from the photographs where the work needs retouching, re-attaching or other adjustments. Back and forth, from image to reality. Take Annabelle's Personalised Goat Hitching Post. I had to fix gaps in the black lace with a marker and pick out the highlights on her fur with titanium. I'm debating on what to do with the gaps in the corners....

The blender upstairs starts whizzing

I think I'm getting ready to print a run of tee-shirts, these with multiple prints and possibly stains and/or bleach damage. Powdered Rit dye looks interesting sprinkled directly onto to wet fabric. Do they even sell that anymore?

a familiar compulsion

If I were to actually (rather than virtually) maintain a diary of chairs I found by the side of the road, this would be today's entry; 

                                                                   

                                

At least he's not a Goat

How I wish that the cat, Homer, would not march across my car's hood with his muddy feet on his way to sleep the day away on its roof to ensure an even coating of orange hair thick as felt on the soft black top...it gets a bit embarrassing at the shop. I keep a lint roller under my seat for those dressier occassions.

Of little note

The lawn lies mown. I must go collect my art work from the art school.

Home Economics

Good, respectable hot dogs were on sale, at 10 cents each. So I stocked up because that's 60 cents less than a cheese burger and with the kid in and out with her friends all day, we was looking to save a bit of money. Except that, the kidio will eat hot dogs only if grilled and our appliance went missing in one of many moves, so I spent 6 dollars on a Hibachi. If you're thinking we can recoup the cost in 12 hot dogs, you haven't factored in the price of charcoal briquets at oh, a dollar for each grilling session. That's considerably more than the gas needed to fire up a skillet on the range, so while we're grilling, every inch of the double Hibachi's cooking space is taken. 2 hot dogs, two burgers so the ground beef doesn't go bad-we'll save them for when Hubby gets home-two ears of corn (also on sale) and a small fillet of salmon in foil with lemon juice and dill for me. Dag. There went my budget.

time to let go

I was sad to return my mother's personalised license plates today. I drove her van about for two and a half years. The tot was sad, too, but I could not keep them. There are a host of practical reasons, but it was also too bothersome to feel myself turn into my mother's clone. I have my own adventures to launch.