Friday morning decapitation

Anevay: My doll's head fell off.

Me: It fell off? Or you pulled it off?

A: It fell off. I swear.

M: I understand. The same thing happens to me sometimes.

A (looking quarrelous): Mom, you're a person. This is a doll.

M (also looking quarrelous): You mean you've never done it before? To yourself?

A: Noooo...

M: Well, don't look so apprehensive. I bet you could do it if you tried.

A: You mean you want my head to pop off?

M: Only if you put it back on.

Anevay and I then spent many minutes trying to will our heads to pop off. It didn't happen, of course, and Anevay was no further along in believing me than she was before our little experiment, but I must say, the whole process of trying was extremely amusing.

Now, I understand that most grown-ups don't believe that decapitations are humorous, but when I think about how many millions of kids take apart their dolls, I think that there is something in their thinking that us adults would be wise to remember... That bodies are just bodies. In addition to treating them like temples (which is something that they learn how to do from adults, who have developed the fear of them dying), they are also great sources of amusement.

When I was a kid, I believed that my stuffed animals and dolls were truly alive. For this reason, and because I thought they were such good friends of mine, I never maimed them. Hell, I didn't even cut off the hair on my Barbies. Anevay, on the other hand, ties up her Barbies, cuts their hair, and, as evidenced in the pictures above, pops their heads off.

I love it. I wish that I had been comfortable enough to maim my dolls when I was a kid. But I had an overdeveloped fear of dying that I let fester rather than, like many kids, explore...

Bringing her doll to me, in such a state, felt like some kind of weird test. It seemed like Anevay wanted to see what my reaction would be.

After the whole head-popping experiment, we had another talk...

M: So, did your doll's head really just fall off, or did it have a little help?

A (smiling): It had a little help. Are you mad?

M: No. It's your doll.

A: I'm glad in real life our heads don't pop off like that.

M: Me too. But it sure is fun trying.

Lots of giggles ensued, and then we took a handful of pictures to document the moment. (I love the one in which Anevay flares her nostrils, making herself look like a cute little piglet... Our roommate, Clare, caught us taking the last few of these pictures... I wonder if she thought we were nuts!)

For what it's worth, I think I passed Anevay's little test. I'm proud that she feels comfortable enough to come to me with her decapitated dolls. If I had done such a thing to a doll when I was a kid, I probably would have hidden it away in shame.

As an adult, on the other hand, I have thankfully come to see the macabre playfulness in all of this. Believe me, I don't expect that most people will understand this... But maybe some of you, like me, get something out of Charles Simic, or Poe, or have enjoyed the Kill Bill films (I just watched them last week, and thought they were a lot of fun)? I don't think the world is filled with only rainbows and unicorns, and I don't think it's all death and destruction, either. Recognizing that life is all of these things is healthy, right? I sure hope so, because that's the attitude I seem to be passing on to my kid... Not that I ever expect either of us to be decapitated, but we'll certainly have to deal with, at some point, illness and death, and my hope for Anevay is that those events not be as isolated as much as they are simply part of the big picture.

In the novel I'm completing, one of the characters is from a region in India where many of the people worship Kali, a Hindu goddess associated with death and destruction.


And yet, by those who know and study her, she is recognized as the goddess of time and transformation. There is an acceptance that life has cycles, and that death is a part of this. Kali is most often depicted dancing upon the prostrate Shiva. Whereas Shiva is stable, always the same, Kali is always changing. Together, their iconography signifies opposite forces that make up the universe.

I totally simplified all of this. Forgive me. This must seem like the most fragmented post ever...

It all boils down to this. This morning, Anevay included me in a sort of play that kids usually do behind closed doors. She let me be privy to this intimate child's play. Instead of asking her why she pulled off the head of her doll (would she really have understood why she did it? really?), I played along. I think I surprised her. I think she thought I would be mad, or disappointed. But instead I helped make it fun.

And why not?

Besides, I'm starting to play around with some of the same ideas in my most recent embroideries... I just had a much later start than my smart, confident little Anevay:



(this is a detail of a canvas I have up at the Brooklyn Collective)



(I embroidered the guillotine and Miz Antoinette on a sweatshirt that I sell in my shop, as well as at the Brooklyn Collective)

(this is a detail of a cool convex canvas I did...)

Can't stop wearing these!

How cute are these little slippers over which I embroidered little gold roses?! I made them over the weekend, and haven't been able to take them off (OK, I'm exaggerating slightly... I have yet to shower with them). Wearing them reminds me of 4th-9th grade, when I wore nothing on my feet except for this type of shoe (OK, again I'm exaggerating... there was that one favorite pair of Keds that had holes in the toes).

Feel free to contact me directly or check my shop for more info/pricing.

If you're in Brooklyn, please stop in at the Brooklyn Collective artisan gallery and check out more of my shoes as well as clothing and bags!

I've sold two of these the last couple of days... Cool, huh?

Go to my store for more information, to see images of other pieces I've embroidered, or to place an order! You might also be able to pick up one of these great sweatshirts at the Brooklyn Collective!

Brooklyn Collective Opening

What a whirlwind the last few months have been, starting in September when I was laid off from my wretched marketing job in finance, and ending with an opening party at the Brooklyn Collective, an artisan gallery located at 196 Columbia Street.

Check out the gallery's website:

www.brooklyncollective.com

The state of the economy has made many people renegotiate their lives. After spending a couple of months meeting with recruiters and trying to find yet another crap job, two things dawned on me: A) right now is not the best time to be looking for a new job; B) I have time to spend doing all the things I love the most! And although I still speak regularly with my recruiters (thanks, ladies, I know you're all working very hard to find another crap job for me), I have put myself wholeheartedly into all of my various projects.

See, the funny thing is, I had this coming to me. And no- despite what I thought the first few weeks after I was laid off- this was not due to any karmic wrongdoings I've done in my life, but rather because I wanted my life back more than anything. I had screamed silently to whomever might be listening out there in the omphalos- I WANT TIME TO FINISH MY BOOK AND MAKE PAINTINGS AND BE WITH MY DAUGHTER.

Well, be careful what you wish for... Your dreams might come true, just like mine did.

Time... a beautiful thing.

I spent a couple of months working with an amazing editor on finishing up my book (it's coming along, slowly but surely- draft three of a grueling re-write), and enjoyed myself enormously, but alas, writing sans a publishing deal doesn't generate much of an income (and in fact, it becomes quite an expensive habit, with all the lattes that must be consumed to stay awake)...

So I put my thinking cap on...

I was a crafty kid. Really crafty. Needlepoint and beading and all manner of handmade goods (think millions of woven potholders and you'll have an idea of the sort of gifts my poor parents had to feign love over). But soon before my daughter was born all of this changed... Her father, being the emotional abuser he was, made me feel that my craftiness was not real art, and, in fact, debased it so completely that, being the insecure and, yes, emotionally spent young mother I was, I stopped making anything besides a handful of uber-crappy paintings and tried to become something- anything- other than who I was (I only see now how f-in' fantastic I was back them). After a stint at Beloit College (in Wisconsin), I transfered to the prestigious Art History program at Columbia University, where I spent my final two years as an undergrad learning all about primarily dead men- both artists and dealers- who had shaped the art world into the monster it has become (yes, I'm 32, and no, I will not apologize for getting my undergrad only a few short years ago... but that's a story for another day).

Well, it took awhile to return to my crafty ways... I first needed to get it out of my head that being crafty was provincial. Again, this came directly from my kid's dad... but then, he also called my family, the books I read, and hell, even me, provincial. He was, FYI, from Iowa, a place that is apparently far-removed from anything provincial (I write this tongue-in-cheek). I digress... Anyhoo, although unemployment was the impetus behind me examining my lost craftiness, I can really thank Prez Bush. The many ways in which he screwed up the planet really worked to my advantage... Actually, if we can all trudge through this mess, the country as a whole might benefit from Bush's greedy disaster. Losing money means we need to renegotiate the ways we make it. I think we're starting to wake up to the idea that large corporations might not be serving our needs, and, in fact, often damage us. I'm just one of the great big flock of millions who is trying to take back some of the control our government stole. I want to see small businesses flourish. Hell, I want to see MY small business flourish.

So thanks, George W., for being such an asshole. You did me a great favor. And thanks to my old employer, for also being such a greedy jerk... Being laid off and receiving an incredibly crappy severance package meant I needed to be industrious... and quickly!

Here's how I resumed my crafty ways...

About a block away where I live is a fantastic art/craft shop called Spacecraft (www.spacecraftbrooklyn.com). I poked my head in one day just for a looksee, immediately was sucked up into the vortex of craft heaven, and ended up walking out in a daze with a bag of embroidery thread and needles. A cheap and easy way to keep myself occupied, I thought. But once I started, I couldn't stop... I made a few bags, posted them on Etsy, and within days, I was contacted by a wonderful woman named Rachel- one of the two proprietors at the Brooklyn Collective (again, check out their artisan gallery- it's GREAT: www.brooklyncollective.com). She asked if I might be interested in selling my work at their space... duh!! I quickly knocked out a load of bags, shoes and clothing. All of this got me thinking- why stop with wearable items? Why not bring the craft of embroidery to the art world? Of course, there are amazing visual artists creating beautiful embroidered canvases. But I've noticed that none of them are really concerned with the stitching- they leave lovely messes of strings and hanging bits all over the place (which I love, don't get me wrong). But I like the idea of using a needle and thread like a pencil, and drawing over the canvas with clean lines. The results, so far, have been a handful of fantastical, fairy-tale-ish pieces. I wasn't sure I'd have much of a stage for them, but the ladies at the Brooklyn Collective appeared to like them well enough, and hung up two of them for their opening party last night (they recently moved locations). Also, a solo show right here in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, is in the works... I'll let you know the details once they've been hashed out!!

All of this is a big task, to be sure... The cost of materials- canvas in particular- is daunting. I'm currently taking applications for patrons/patronesses. Starting a start-up with no start-up money is daunting. But I have to use that one thing that is at my disposal- TIME!

Thanks to everyone who made it out last night to look at not only my work, but the work of 20 other artists and designers. There was great music, a little (OK, actually it was a lot) wine, and a fun burlesque show. The crowd was terrific, and hopefully a few sales were generated!

Cross your fingers for me...