frytopia

When we had a house, I wanted to do our yard with homemade Kolchak standups and monsters. Never got a chance. So this year, I got my Kolchak on using my hobby, <a class=”www.atlasquest.com/”>letterboxing</a>. I even made a video trailer.

Posted in Uncategorized

I am becoming increasingly fascinated with art dolls. I think it’s because even when they aren’t supposed to be creepy, there is always something unsettling about a fake human. And when dolls are meant to be creepy, I fall straight in love. The pull to make my own dolls is getting stronger. It required two things I suck hard at: sculpture and sewing. The sculpture I’m desperate to learn, so I can deal with that. The sewing I may find a way to sneak around.

I recently picked up my first copy of Art Doll Quarterly. Nearly every page filled me with inspiration and delight. Below is a gallery of my favorites from the issue, plus a few extras I can’t resist including.

Fayette, by Sharon Woodward

Group of Hags, by Sheila Bentley. I love the vintage elements.

185, Karly Perez

Anntu, by Beth Robinson of Strangedolls.net

Einstein, by Donna of So Dark So Cute

Posted in Art, Books, Music, Crafts

The Fun Farm is a little bit north of Bend, Oregon, east side of the highway. It’s hard to spot, because the town won’t allow signs on the highway. Just look for the bowling-ball tree and the field of goats.

We showed up about 30 minutes before closing, but as we learned at Petersen Rock Gardens, “Bend time” is a relative thing. Apparently someone heard us drive up, as the door was unlocked and we were ushered in before we had a chance to drive away.

The mouth is an electronic kaleidoscope, using scenes from The Wizard of Oz to create ever-shifting images.

Originally called The Funny Farm, it was founded by partners Gene and Mike, and houses an antique and costume shop in addition to a yard full of outsider art. When you first enter the shop, you are greeted by a large dollhouse, and the sound of The Wizard of Oz. Soon you realize that the movie is playing on a tiny television inside the dollhouse.

Tin man.

Once vibrant, the Farm has fallen into a genteel decay since the death of Gene’s partner, Mike, in 2005. While we were there, work was being done to get the place ready for free wedding day. It’s usually in July, but they’re running a bit behind, so you’ll be able to get married or renew your vows at the Love Pond in August this year.

Dusty bottles await a purpose.

I think we missed a lot when we were there. I’ve seen several pictures online of things we didn’t see. I felt as if I were intruding on something private, rather than visiting a tourist spot. Part of that feeling came from being there so close to closing–I always feel funky about that–but a larger part came from the quiet, the disarray, the decay. Nonetheless, I’d like to visit again next year. Next time I’ll go in the early afternoon, and I’ll follow the map to make sure I don’t miss anything. What I did see, you can check out in my flickr set.

Posted in Art, Books, Music, Cool Stuff, Fascination

The king of the garden surveys his domain.

There are a few things I love more than letterboxing. Which is why, when we recently went to Central Oregon for a letterboxing event, I spent some time touring the local outsider art.

Petersen’s version of Independence Hall

Rasmus Petersen immigrated from Denmark, and built the Garden in the last 17 years of his life, from 1935 to 1952. It was his tribute to his new homeland. He collected local rocks from the mineral-rich, volcanic landscape surrounding his home. Obsidian for a shiny facing, shells for an accent, and the occasional delight of a thunder egg.

Plaque (out of frame): “Enjoy yourself. It’s later than you think.”

Peacocks, cats, and chickens roam the grounds. We wished we’d brought along the grapes from our hotel room. Peacocks love them some grapes. The day was bright, and two other families roamed the garden with their children. I had hoped to visit the museum, and though it was scheduled to be open, the doors were locked. I hear there is a display of fluorescent rocks inside. Ah well, maybe next trip.

No trolls under the bridge–just tadpoles

I was charmed by every bit of the place, even the decay, that allowed us to see the metal barrels supporting the masses of glued and cemented rocks that made up a tiny building. We plan on going back to the area next year, and I’d like to visit when the museum is open, and perhaps get some better pictures. Here’s the rest of the set on flickr.

Posted in Art, Books, Music, Cool Stuff, Fascination

This time last year I was recovering from pneumonia. I was barely able to drag myself through the OPA show. This year I happily traipsed through OPA and the Guild shows. The Guilds were all in one big hall this time. There was a large, unused space in the middle. They really need a multi-guild gallery there.

Unlike past years where we bought many small things, our strategy this year was to just get a few larger pieces. We are tickled as heck with what we brought home, though there was a small pang at not picking up something from all our old favorites. We’ll probably go back to nibbling next year.

We did actually end up with a couple of small things. I got some dazzling roving from the Handweavers Guild show, and a couple of lovely beads from the Bead show.

I originally spotted the bowl on the right, but as we were checking out, the Spousal Unit decided it simply must be paired with the bowl on the left. He was right, of course. If you turn them around and hold them to the light, they are translucent. Gorgeous work.

We also couldn’t resist adding to our collection of Michael Fromme critters. This mousie will join a rabbit and a fox.

Our method as we browse the OPA show is to bring a map, and mark the artists we want to come back and consider buying from. But sometimes we are thwarted by potlust. This wonderful Ginger Steele cried out to come home with us. We have a smaller piece by her, and it was high time we had something a bit larger. Speaking of Ginger…

This was our great prize this year. Note: we named him, not the artists. We had just come from Ginger’s booth, happily toting her pot in our basket, when we found an old favorite, James DeRosso. I have a collection of his tiny monsters. This is not tiny–it’s about 10″ high. I spotted it on the back shelf and said “Hey, that looks like James collaborated with Ginger Steele!” James just happened to be lurking behind us, and filled us in. He’d left this piece in Ginger’s studio for her, and when it got leather hard “she just went nuts”.  They then used her glazes on it. The result is one of my favorite pieces ever. The Spousal Unit is also completely smitten. And not only is it a delightful piece of art, that second fin comes off to reveal a slot–it’s also a coin bank!

Good show, everyone! We really enjoyed the addition of the Handweavers Guild to the guild shows. We talked to lots of artists and saw many beautiful things. Can’t wait for next year.

Posted in Uncategorized

I’m not much of a gamer, but this sure is pretty. Pretty creepy:

One of my favorite creepmeisters, Dahlia Dreary, has started a book club.  The first assignment is Sarah Rayne’s A Dark Dividing. As usual, the Kindle edition is full of copy-editing errors. Nonetheless, I’m enjoying the novel, which is oh-so-gothicy thus far.

So I posted a beautiful foam monster built of foam on facebook a few days ago. Turns out the creator used the building of this monster to film a tutorial on scaling and building in foam. It’s fascinating, and boy do I want some of those tools. If only tools could make me a brilliant sculptor.

Posted in Spooky

Very cool stop-motion vid from Jamie Caliri for The Shins:

Nick Cave’s Shamanic Sound Suits (sorry, Spousal Unit, not that Nick Cave):

Urban Geodes:

Stunning porcelain art dolls from Marmite Sue:

Finally, a spooky little automaton by Thomas Kuntz:

Posted in Animation, Art, Books, Music, Cool Stuff, Spooky

Ze Frank has resurrected A Show, and the internet rejoices. Today’s Show was about make believe:

This is something I’ve never had trouble with, much to the Spousal Unit’s frequent consternation. For example, I am convinced the Custom House in downtown Portland is full of spies. Look at it:

Looming there with its stony edifice and its formal courtyard. Why do you think plans for the building continually fall through? Spies.

Then there was the time when we lived downtown and I’d hop the bus in the mornings for a short trip to work. One morning, I saw a handsome black gentleman, about 50, dressed in a dark turtleneck, charcoal slacks, and polished dress shoes. The Spousal Unit and I agreed he was quite sharp. The next day, there was another black man, very similarly dressed, with features very much like the fellow of the day before, except 20 years younger. Father and son? Of course not. It was the same man. When we saw him the day before, he’d obviously come from the future with a dire warning for his younger self. We never saw the older man again, though we saw the younger several times. See, his older self went back to the future.

Recently, the Spousal Unit and I were pulling a set of letterboxes I’d planted temporarily. Heading along the trail, he asked me where the turn was. I told him that according to my clues, it was at the castle ruins. He looked at me skeptically. Eventually, we came to a trail on the left, marked by a few overgrown slabs of concrete. “Castle ruins!” I said. She shook his head and said I had to be kidding. I harrumphed that it was perfectly obvious.

It’s possible I have an excess of imagination, but I’m not giving it up.

Posted in Enough about me...

I really need to put some stuff on the walls.

Posted in Crafts

Wandering through an antique shop in downtown Forest Grove today, I found a treasure. I am fascinated with old photographs, but generally pass them by because I want so badly to know about the people pictured that it becomes frustrating.  This, I could not pass by. For the princely sum of $5, I took home an intimate piece of someone’s life: a scrap book from the 1880s.

The gorgeous Art Deco cover bursts with peacock feathers, flowers, and landscapes. Within are pasted amateur poems clipped from the local newspapers, birth and marriage announcements, obituaries, woodcuts (mostly waterfalls), and the occasional inspirational story, even a scolding article about stingy husbands.

Inside the front cover is the only color illustration: a sailboat, with the hand-written caption “May my birthdays be life’s golden mile-stones.”

While I haven’t gleaned the name of the owner, I do know some things.

• The clippings are from the paper in Weston, Oregon, so I’m assuming that is her home town.
• She is a most sincere Baptist and a believer in temperance.
• Beelers and Dentons are mentioned many times in the announcements, so she may be a relation. Interestingly, there is a wedding announcement for Ella Crawford of Pendleton. Crawford is my birthname, and my father’s family is from Eastern Oregon. Perhaps I’m hold the scrapbook of a distant relative?

Many pages are missing, and the ones left are mostly loose, so it is difficult to determine order. I do think our scrapper used this one book for most of her life, as her handwriting clearly ages. The front pieces are from the 1870s. Here is a later page, with something even older, and a note:  “Torn from wall of my birth place [...] Scio about 1912. Probably used as wall paper by my parents.” I’m guessing she was visiting in 1912? Or perhaps there is more than one author? On the back of this page is a note that appears to be different handwriting: “Polk Co, June 23 1877.”

Here are some gems from the pages:

MARRIED. DAVIS-BARKER — On Sabbath, Aug 26, 1877, at the residence of Taylor Cotton, in this city by the Reverend T.B. White, Mr. Commodore P. Davis and Nellie J. Barker.
Accompanying the above notice was the most delicious silver cake, which received due attention from the whole force. Mr. Davis is one of our best young men; honest, capable, steady-going and temperate, he fully deserves the rich prize which has fallen to him. May they meet with nothing but happiness as together they float down the stream of time.

–

BORN,–To the wife of O.G. Beeler, Sept. 15, 1890, a girl. Weight eight pounds.

Oren goes around with a look of utter bewilderment on his face.

–

A BOY’S DETERMINATION

G.E.B.S

You can’t make the pledge too strong,
Though I’m a little shaver,
I’ll to the temperance ranks belong,
And never, never waver.

King Alcohol’s a foe to all,
Who give him any quarter;
The best of drinks for young and old,
Is pure unmixed cold water.

No brandy sling, or cherry bounce,
No wine to soak a cracker;
Nor will I touch a single ounce
Of that vile weed–tobacco.

Though rum and ruin rule the world
They shall not conquer me.
I’m pledged to total abstinence,
The true way to be free.

No word profane my lips shall pass,
Nor filthy juice bespatter,
I will not touch the poisoned glass,
Though all the world may flatter.

Then when I grow to be a man,
And vote for legislators;
I’ll do the very best I can
To beat the temperance haters.

Aren’t you just dying to know what a cherry bounce is?

Posted in Fascination