Alien Tea Shoppe

Read this article today.  12 Signs You Have No Self-Respect As A Woman .  I had thoughts, obviously, or why would we be here, but I wonder how I can change some of it. So, let's just jump right in, shall we?

Just a tiny bit thrilled. Two weeks ago, my sister and I were interviewed about our art for the local paper.  Last Thursday we picked up the newspaper at the local coffee house.  We were excited to see it and happy about the experience.  My view on art is that if you create it, it's art.  You don't need to have someone tell you that what you are doing is art, nor do you have to follow any guidelines, just do what you want, even if it's technically wrong.  But I have heard that art is recognized as art once it has a] been deemed so by an art critic, b] had a stint in a gallery, or c] been featured in the media.  I suppose no one can deny I'm an artist now.   Sisters Share Flair Originally, the interview was set up for my sister, which is quite typical.  However, the interviewer chose a large collage piece and some soaps to focus on, but since my sister and I shared in the creative process on those, I had to meet the interviewer. ...

There are two things lately that have made me do a lot of thinking.  A lot of thinking on societal issues as well as my own life.  Being in between; being nowhere.  Living two lives and yet neither completely. The first was an article published in Ebony magazine in March of 2012 by Joyce Clark Hicks entitled, Dear White Folks: Black People are Sensitive to Race , which is Hicks' written response to someone's questioning on why she is so sensitive to racial matters, which touches on her experiences as a black woman in a white world.   The other being the Tumblr, We Are Not Trayvon Martin , which are reader submitted reasons why they are not Trayvon Martin in order to distinguish the difference between race in this country and how we, as a society, have been trained to view Black vs White, in an effort to enlighten and put an end to the fear mongering. My parents starting their family early with a bunny who would become a giant. These are my pa...

It is getting dark again Dusk shuffle across the fields The evening trees moan  (as if they knew) At night I always dream  (of you) At that point,   Åkerfeldt launches into a 30 second lamenting scream.  The likes of which makes your heart rattle inside it's cage.  The type of scream that makes you remember what loss feels like; of which that leaves your heart achingly sorrowful. I used to really be into the Swedish progressive death metal band, Opeth.  The 20 minute Black Rose Immortal, was never a favourite of mine... except for those lines and his final, heart wrenching scream.   I hadn't listened to this song in a very long time, but recently some memories came to mind which made me have another listen.  Particularly pertaining to The Man with the Brother Tattoo.  A drizzly, stormy day; mid week.  I, maneuvering us through the city in our red rocket; coordinates programmed in; we arrived safely at all of our destinations. ...

Die Ermittlung hat einen Skandal aufgedeckt. (The investigation revealed a scandal)  It certainly did... Those video tapes we watched, they were an investigation.  They were tools we needed for learning; for remembering.  For finding the truth, setting it free; starting over, rebuilding. Strange that my email language of the day has been absent for quite some time.  I hadn't realized until the first one, this one, showed up again in my email; prior to watching the videos that have set my soul free. "It's almost perfect", you said of this shrine you made for your childhood self.  It was almost perfect.  You decided that this little haunted room, with a little haunted girl would be the perfect way to heal what was done to you.  You tried to squash the girl out; turn her into you; recreating the past to heal the wounds.  But that girl, she was strong.  When the tipping point was in your favour, she did the unexpected; she tipped the sc...

Two days ago, Korea in Tradition Hanbok, sold.  She's going all the way to England, which is beyond fantastic!  I would say this is the first time in my life that I've sold any art, but that would be untrue in a way.  This is however, the first time that someone I do not know, has purchased a piece of my art.  They also bought it for the price I thought was fair. The two previous sales? We used to own a coffee house.  We had silent art auctions there.  I submitted a piece, a figurine; so did my sister.  My mother started her bidding on my sisters with twenty dollars & continued to grossly outbid anyone who submitted a figure until she had purchased it for fifty dollars. When she wasn't outbidding on my sisters piece, she was hovering over mine, deterring people from submitting any bids.  Right when time was called, my mother submitted a bid.  It was one dollar.  Way to show how much you think your own daughter is wor...

My 7 or 8 year old self with my first cat, Cash Mittens. Two nights ago, my sister ran downstairs saying, "Hey!  You sound just like that girl!  That girl from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation!  The one who said shittin' bricks."  Which for anyone who is not familiar with (can't remember) that film, Chevy Chase invites his entire family for Christmas and then there's 3 million twinkling lights he wants to put up on the house.  Randy Quaid plays the trashiest, countriest character of the brother in law, Eddie.  Eddie's daughter is Ruby Sue.  A girl who sounds about as country as you can get.  Apparently I sounded like Ruby Sue on this video. Needless to say, I had to see this.  So, I go upstairs & we start it over.  We had just gotten our video camera and my mother is filming the entire den.  You can hear my seven year old self from the kitchen, desperately wanting to open gifts.   "Oh, but you have to sin...

Channeling my inner Judy Bernly? So.... I got new glasses yesterday.  No big deal; they're glasses.  It was the same price to put new lenses in my old frames as it was to just purchase new frames.  So, why not go with something different.  I had a difficult time finding a pair I wanted.  The glasses salesman then said, "You can use sunglasses frames if you want."  A whole new world of possibilities had just opened up.  It took me only one minute to say, "These!"  Incidentally, I do really LOVE these glasses.  Love, LOVE them!   But curiously, adults do not.  When I went to pick them up & have them fitted, no one in the store liked them.  They were in horror to find out the prescription sunglasses that had to be ordered were going to be the exact... same... pair.  My parents didn't even like them.  My dad was confused that they were even real glasses.  Did he think they were wielding goggles?  Af...

Channeling my inner old Eastern European Lady. This is probably the best photo I've ever taken.  I was visiting Washington D.C. for the first & only time.  I won the contest for happiest and most obvious tourist, had they been having such a contest.  No one, and I mean NO ONE can pull off the flowered button down shirt, black jeans, wind breaker, head scarf, pink fanny pack (slung over my forearm, no less) and bright white sneakers quite like my eleven year old self could. I don't take a lot of photo's of myself.  OK that's a lie.  I take A LOT of photo's, but what I keep is very minimal.  So, here's what I could dig up. I lovingly refer to this as 'Bitch Face'. Ah, ladies you know all about Bitch Face.  There are meme's dedicated to it.  Those of us who happen to look pissy when we are, in fact, just being.  Also, yes from time to time I still play dress up & pretend in the mirror.   Lego Boba ...