Saturday, December 25, 2010


          Being a crafty sort, I enjoy the challenge of trying to use only things we already HAVE for wrapping and stuff.  Plus we're poor, so the more money we save, the better.  We printed out our own Christmas cards using a drawing I did of Krampus & Santa, and it ended up being an odd size. 
My drawing of the Krampus battling Santa

          I made templates and cut envelopes from scrap paper, even fancy lining from scraps of Christmas wrap. Double-sided tape is my friend.

          Here are some more hand-made bows, but I changed things up a little by using scraps cut from discarded library books, and even some packing paper.
Awesome, right? Destroying library books is fun!


Wednesday, December 22, 2010


          What would Christmas be without my collection of special holiday edition My Little Ponys?  Here we see them gathered around a magical color-changing Christmas tree candle.
There's an angel pony, a reindeer pony, and several over-dressed fashion victim ponies
          When the lights go out it's all crazy 'n' shit.  They'll all have hangovers in the morning.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010


          Check me out, I figured out how to make one of these bows by HAND.  Using strips of paper and double-sided tape.  The method came to me in a heavenly cloud and a flash of angelic light.  And a voice said, "Let it be so..."
          Here's a close-up:
          Anthony thinks I'm insane for doing this, especially since we have several boxes full of pre-fab bows ready to just peel and stick.  But shouldn't I win an award for this?

Sunday, December 19, 2010

FAN ART : "Wonderland" by J.

Our Library Book Club president drew this for me.  :)

Saturday, December 18, 2010


Is it... Tom Hulce in "Amadeus?" -or... a Cirque du Soleil "clown?" -or... an escapee from the gayest Mardi Gras ever?
          Nope.  It's supposed to be Godfather Drosselmeier from Nutcracker, based on the book by E.T.A. Hoffmann.  And sure, that's a pretty strange story all on its own, but THIS is just plain alarming.  Unsettling, even.  The image above is from a flyer I saw tacked to a restaurant bulletin board in the Inland Empire, advertising a local production of Nutcracker.  This version of Drosselmeier looks like he just took a buttload of Ecstasy, is probably wearing sequined high heels, and probably still has shards of a shattered disco ball still scattered throughout his fright wig.  I'd say we're lucky if he's even wearing pants.
          I will not be attending this production, but then again I don't even like musical theater in the first place, whether they're dancing or singing, or some foul combination of both.
          I do, however, enjoy this horrific image, because I'm a horror fan.  I love horror novels, horror movies, and the better horror genre magazines.  To me, this image would be at home next to a poster of Hellraiser's "Pinhead," or perhaps Freddy Krueger, or even the Wayans brothers in "White Chicks."
"One... two... Wayans comin' for you..."

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

IN THE DREAMHOUSE: Tidal Wave Canyon

          Last night I had a long, arduous dream about being part of some survival trek over a mountain range.  There was a whole troop of us scaling this rocky, uneven terrain, and I was exhausted, my legs aching from trying to find purchase in the crumbling slope.  I was really anxious about my speed, wanting to make sure I wasn't in last place, so I kept looking behind me.  Most of the time I was in the very middle of the line of people, but I wished I could have been studly enough to be at the front.  I was self-conscious about my puffing and straining, worrying that my legs (or heart) would just give out before I made it to whatever our goal was.
          When we finally got through that part of the journey, we ended up in a vast red canyon, with no sign of civilization anywhere.  Only in a dream could you climb a mountain range and find a canyon at the top.  There was also a bunch of towering palm trees, which quickly became very important.
          A huge tidal wave was headed our way, the wall of rushing water stretching up farther than we could see.  The only way we knew to possibly escape being killed by it was to scale the palm trees and hang on for dear life.  We climbed as fast and as high as we could.  My tree was very skinny, and bowed low with my weight (too many Reese's Peanut Butter Christmas Trees?), which worried me since I needed to be higher than the water after it settled.
          The wave hit and we all blacked out from the force of it, each of us clinging to our individual palm trees.  When I awoke, the water had mostly drained from the canyon, but I was perplexed about how I survived drowning in the initial deluge.  Even in the dream it didn't make sense to me.
          Susan, an old friend from school, had the tree next to mine, and she had also survived.  After that, though, we all went our separate ways.
          Then came a period of rebuilding after our ordeal.  I wandered through the canyon, finding small groups of people from the original survival team that had splintered off into sub-groups.  Each little enclave seemed to be building houses right into the canyon walls, kind of like the cliff-dwelling Anasazi.  Most of the new communities told me they had first asked permission from the local native tribes, before building their houses.  But the last group I came to, and for some reason decided to stay with, had NOT asked permission.  Instead, they had built their housing using very raw materials, trying to mimic the color and texture of the canyon walls, and carved native animals into their furniture and household items like clocks and kitchen ware.  They were hoping that if they simply showed enough respect and reverence for nature, it would be enough to keep the native tribes appeased.
          I was nervous about that.  It just seemed stubborn to me, and I was considering seeking out these mysterious natives, none of whom I'd seen any trace of on my travels, on my own. 
          But then I woke up.