TAPERT : duct tape homunculus

          One day driving to work I suddenly thought, "I wonder if you could make a doll out of duct tape? I made my wallet out of it. How much harder could a doll be?"

          So I grabbed my trusty Sharpie (always in the truck with me) and scrawled "Duct tape doll" on the back of my hand, so I wouldn't forget.

          Tapert is the result.

          To begin with I took the snipped off end of a striped stocking and filled it with these stuffing bead things I've had for years. They're made for stuffing dolls/plush animals with. I like them. Makes his bum weighty enough for proper sitting. But it was tricky taping the stocking closed with duct tape. Not pretty. 

          Then I used some pliant wire (recycled from a cleverly-wrapped Christmas gift someone gave us) to form the skeleton for his limbs and his head.

          For his head I started ripping out pages from a discarded dictionary. My original idea was one page of each letter, so he'd be smart. But I started from Z, and only made it through O, before realizing I couldn't fit any more pages in, or his head would be huge and unwieldy.
          Luckily, the page I happened to tear out of the O section included "okapi," which is my favorite wild animal. There was even a drawing of one. So although Tapert may not know about anything that starts with letters A-N, at least he knows about okapis.
          I wadded the dictionary pages into a nice round ball, and stuck on 3 tiny pom-pons to create a nose bump. Then I wound up his head in the blue duct tape, around the wire loop.

          To give his arms and legs a little thickness, I cut long rectangles of foam and taped over those. Now I'm thinking they're too blocky, but it's too late for that, and I don't want Tapert to feel insecure so I don't say anything disparaging in his presence.

          Hands and feet were problematic. I was determined to use only duct tape for his body, so he ended up with black... caps? Well, actually they sort of look like hooves, or trotters. He is not nimble with them.

          Thanks to plaid patterned duct tape he is wearing a plaid shirt.
          His face is painted white, with jeweled brads for eyes and some hand-drawn details. I knew he was gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow before I drew it, I just had to follow my instincts.

          He needed a hat, so I used another striped stocking. I rolled the cut end up to form a bit of a cuff, and sewed the other end up with a bunch of strands of furry blue string/yarn, so the cap has a puffball.

          I thought maybe I was done, but then Tapert was like, "Bitch, I'm still COLD! Make me a SCARF."
          I was a little surprised at his choice of hot pink, but I think it suits his look. It's bold and fashion-forward. He doesn't give a shit what people think.

IN THE DREAMHOUSE : Asian Swapmeet; Hillbilly Moonshine Truck; Apocalyptic Flood

       I dreamed I was helping run a booth at an Asian swapmeet for an Asian family I was friends with. It was actually a cross between a swapmeet and an indie convention. The booth had lots of fascinating things for a round-eye like me. Jade dragons, Buddha statues, little dolls, scrolls, etc. The best thing was a soft-sculpture radish doll with the most adorable little face full of wisdom and peace. I wanted that doll really bad. I said I was buying it as a gift for my friend Julie, but even in the dream that doll was probably going to end up mine.

       Setting up the booth was a lot of hard work, lifting and unpacking boxes, and putting displays together. Then I was busy helping customers. For some reason we also had a table of heavy metal T-shirts, and these two teenage boys gravitated straight to it. The taller boy put his arm around the younger and, pointing, said, “I’d like THAT shirt, for my boyfriend, here.”

       It was hard to tell if they really were gay, or just joking around, so it put me on edge. The shirt they wanted was something with a screaming skull, and they wanted it in XXL. I had to crawl under the table to look through the boxes of shirts for the right size. I couldn’t find it, so then I had to go to a back room area of our booth and go through a whole bunch of backstock boxes. We kept all the backstock under the tables, especially the T-shirts and caps, because apparently those are most frequently stolen. As soon as I started getting boxes out and going through them, this asshole guy tried to steal a baseball cap, and I yanked it right off his head and told him to beat it.

       That dream ended, and the next began with Anthony and me getting into Julie’s Lexus.

***

       Someone had professionally printed Julie’s job title and the words “GOVERNMENT EMPLOYEE” onto the head rests of every seat in her car. She was very proud of this, but it gave me a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. She drove Anthony and me to a dangerous hillbilly area of the Inland Empire, to a little restaurant that made Asian sandwiches with French fries stuffed in them. It was all pretty ghetto, and when we were sitting down eating we really started noticing how scary the other diners were. Scraggly beards, dirty clothes, and they were totally leering at us.

       When we decided it was time to get the hell out of there, we discovered that Julie’s car was gone, so we found an abandoned old truck and appropriated it. The problem with the truck was that instead of a regular gas tank, it had this awkward exterior trunk in the trunk bed. The trunk was filled with moonshine whiskey, and connected to the engine via a long hose. I drove the truck, trying to navigate us out of the Inland Empire backwoods, but the roads were confusing and poorly maintained. Mostly just dirt and gravel, one-lane affairs like in the old days. Whenever we drove past people, they were scary hillbillies looking for trouble and violence. One time we barreled down a narrow tree-lined road just as some hillbillies were shooting at each other ahead. I swerved down a side road to avoid getting caught in the middle of it.

       The truck ran out of moonshine, but luckily we found a gas station and a freeway onramp. The truck didn’t run as well on actual gasoline as it did on bootleg whiskey, but we got on the freeway and raced toward home.

***

       Somewhere on the freeway, the Inland Empire dream dissolved into an apocalyptic scenario in which I knew that a gigantic flood was due any minute. I was by myself, in what looked like a big city park with lots of tall trees and hills. It seemed important to climb as high as I possibly could, that if I could just get high up enough I would be above the flood level and might survive. I picked the tallest tree I could find with lots of easy-to-climb lower branches, and scurried high up into its branches. I made it to the very top.

       At first I thought I’d made it to safety, but then I got a sinking feeling and felt a shadow gathering over me. I looked up and saw that the wave of the flood extended impossibly high into the sky, much higher than my treetop perch.

       I thought if I could just hold on through the breaking of the wave, maybe the water would course down around me and still leave me high and dry when the wave moved on. But as the flood crashed down onto my tree, the trunk and all its branches splintered like matchsticks.

       I drowned/woke up.

SOILED SANDALS

          Someone left these in the bathroom at work, and they've been sitting there for MONTHS, now. Why does the owner refuse to remove them? They are totally gross, and for some reason one of my first thoughts upon seeing them was, "What if you had really bad OCD, and felt compelled to LICK these nasty sandals?"
          I will not lick them, but now that the thought has occurred to me, I sort of feel like SOMEBODY should lick them. That is DISGUSTING. It would be the perfect punishment.

OZ : new movies to be nervous about

          Well, it would certainly be nice if these new Oz-related movies helped drum up some new and broader interest in The Royal Historian of Oz, a graphic novel I recently completed with artist Andy Hirsch, published by SLG, Inc.

          Aside from that possibility, I'm scared. I'm always scared when somebody treads on literary sacred ground. Will it be a sacrilege? Will I want to gouge out my own eyes? That's what's so nerve-wracking about CREATING something based on a much-loved children's classic. I was nervous when I started writing Royal Historian, but I'm a fan of the original books by L. Frank Baum, and tried to show as much respect and reverence for the original material as possible.
          Here are the new Oz movies in the works:

          Oz: the Great and Powerful. A prequel starring James Franco as a younger Wizard of Oz, scheduled for a March 2013 release. Here is Disney's official synopsis:
Walt Disney Pictures' fantastical adventure "Oz The Great and Powerful," directed by Sam Raimi, imagines the origins of L. Frank Baum's beloved character, the Wizard of Oz. When Oscar Diggs (James Franco), a small-time circus magician with dubious ethics, is hurled away from dusty Kansas to the vibrant Land of Oz, he thinks he's hit the jackpot--fame and fortune are his for the taking--that is until he meets three witches, Theodora (Mila Kunis), Evanora (Rachel Weisz) and Glinda (Michelle Williams), who are not convinced he is the great wizard everyone's been expecting. Reluctantly drawn into the epic problems facing the Land of Oz and its inhabitants, Oscar must find out who is good and who is evil before it is too late. Putting his magical arts to use through illusion, ingenuity--and even a bit of wizardry--Oscar transforms himself not only into the great and powerful Wizard of Oz but into a better man as well.
          Here's what I don't like about this so far: I don't find the Wizard to be one of the most interesting characters, especially if they're going by the movie version of the Wizard. Also- I saw James Franco most recently in Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and the CG ape turned in a far more nuanced and believable performance.
          I don't like that bit at the end, about the Wizard transforming himself into a better man. Are we going to get hit over the head with a moral? Besides, since this is a prequel, I think it's too early for the Wizard to become a better man, since he is still a charlatan and a fake when Dorothy meets him. It's only later in the original series of books that the Wizard develops real magic powers.
          But who knows? Maybe I'll end up liking it. I LOVED Disney's 1985 live-action Return To Oz, with Fairuza Balk as Dorothy.

          Dorothy of Oz. This one is a CG animated movie (Summertime Entertainment/Alpine Pictures), scheduled for a May 2012 release. Voices by Lea Michele (Dorothy), Martin Short (a new villain called the Jester), Dan Aykroyd (the Scarecrow), Kelsey Grammer (the Tin Man), and Jim Belushi (the Cowardly Lion). Oh- and Patrick Stewart as a tugboat. WTF, right?
          It's based on a book by Roger S. Baum, one of L. Frank Baum's great-grandsons. The story takes place as soon as Dorothy returns home after her very first trip to Oz. Kansas is all f***ed up from the twister, but then she's whisked back to Oz, where she and her pals are confronted by "The Jester," a character NOT in the original books, and since he's being voiced by Martin Short I can only imagine how annoying it will be. I'm already annoyed by Lea Michele voicing Dorothy, since I find her strident and obnoxious on "Glee." I have a bad attitude about this, and maybe I need to turn my frown upside-down. But that's just how I roll.

          You know, I'm not ALWAYS a sourpuss about this sort of thing. I was really looking forward to Disney & Tim Burton's Alice In Wonderland. It's a shame that movie basically shat all over Lewis Carroll's beautiful creation. If you want to see what a dick I am about it, go HERE.

IN THE DREAMHOUSE : arterial spray

          Usually I can watch horror movies right before bed without any problem, but last night I watched the last 20 minutes of the Amityville remake. It's not even a good remake, but there's a scene where Ryan Reynolds is seeing visions of the previous occupant's suicide by throat-slitting, and you see Ryan's face covered in showers of arterial blood spray. As I watched it I was like, "Eh... Whatever. Time for bed."
          But I had this nightmare that I was in a multi-level hotel, going up and down elevators trying to escape a serial killer. I ended up in a lounge just as the killer entered the room. Just by chance, I was behind some other people at the bar, mostly obscured from the killer's view. He had a switchblade, and cut down a few people around me, so I dropped to the ground with them and played possum.
          He slit the throat of a man right next to me, and as I lay there on the ground praying I wouldn't be discovered I could feel the man's blood spattering across me.
          Luckily the nightmare either ended there, or shifted scenes, so I wasn't discovered. But it was bad enough, man!
          I woke up, and my mind quickly shifted from serial killers and blood spray to diarrhea. The word itself. It's a nuanced word, with the double-R and the silent H. The double-R gives it an appropriate growl/grunt, and the silent H reflects a miserable silent breath of discomfort. I started getting ideas for poop-related pop art, and that's when I realized it was time to just accept that I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep.
          I got out of bed, fed the dog, got a cup of coffee, and here I am...

SCATTERSHOT

          This week is agonizingly slow, dragging by legless and nearly dehydrated. It's finals week for the students, so the library has been either frenziedly busy (before, between, and after classes) or eerily silent.
          At my psychiatrist's office yesterday, I confided that I could feel my brain trying to get anxious and fixated negatively on some things lately, but so far I've been self-aware enough to nip that in the bud. Thanks to the drugs. I made a point to insist that I felt the drugs were still working, because I'm not ready to have my dosages increased, or to be put on something more heavy-duty. But I felt it was important to lay a little groundwork of honesty, in case I grow increasingly spazzy, and need to have my prescriptions tweaked.
          The fact that I don't have a publisher yet for my illustrated children's middle-grade fantasy novel makes me feel un-anchored and nervous. I've only written 5 or 6 chapters of it, and only submitted it to (and been rejected by) one publisher. I know I should relax and just enjoy working on it. I've been wanting to shift gears from comics & graphic novels to something more... "novelly" for years now. But my brain doesn't do well without clear deadlines and agreements.
          Maybe I should go straight home and work really hard on it. Maybe I should put my energy into exercising, eating less, and trying to lose some weight. I am 40 now, after all. Maybe I should put my energy into some potentially "fine art" type of creativity. There's (potentially) more money in that, from what I've seen. Why be constrained by the format of a book at all? Sometimes it's hard to tell if I feel like writing, or drawing. And when I definitely feel like writing, part of me wants to work on the children's novel, and another part of me wants to write something for adults, like a full-on horror novel, or something more complex and harder to fit into a simplified category.
          Maybe I just need a nap.
          But then I remember that I got a notice from the IRS about a minor tax discrepancy from my 2010 taxes. I need to figure that out, in case I need to file a correction. The notice I received didn't give a deadline, though, so it's easy to procrastinate, especially something confusing like taxes.
          My mom was kind enough to give me an awesome industrial-type pin-back button (badge) maker for Christmas. It's a small press with metal pieces and a lever. I should make a bunch of buttons and try to sell them on Etsy, or at conventions and stuff. Maybe THAT'S what I should do this evening. I've made some buttons already, of course, but not enough to start selling.
          Maybe I DO need more drugs. Why can't I let myself just relax, take a nap, read, watch some TV? Is that really so terrible?
          But I also have this painting project I started, then abandoned temporarily for button-making. The painting project involves a big metal Medieval shield that hangs on the wall. I've already spray-painted it black and painted a weird blue animal face over what used to be a coat-of-arms. I've been planning to add some Martha Stewart glitter paint to it. The bottles are lined up eagerly on my drafting table: blue, amethyst, and green.
          HOLY CRAP the choir next door to the library is singing "Send In the Clowns." What have I done to deserve that?
          Anyway, maybe I just need to drink more often. Oh- and then lately it's been really grim because the Librarian I work with found out that her husband has terminal lung cancer. It's awful beyond words, and I feel terrible for both of them. Of course she didn't want everyone to know right away because she didn't want to have to talk about it all the time. But people have started finding out and coming in to commiserate. And asking ME about it. Even on Facebook. So I'm trying to keep my mind off mortality, but it's been difficult.
          I thought of a great band name: "Diarrhea Envy." Get it? Like "penis envy," only with diarrhea...? No?
         
         

HUMAN HEAD CARTOONS

          On Tuesday, January 17th, two dog walkers on a trail in the Hollywood Hills discovered a human head in a bag. One of their dogs started playing with it. Here's the story:
http://abclocal.go.com/kabc/story?section=news/local/los_angeles&id=8509333
          Of course I drew a few quick cartoons inspired by it: