I had a choreographed gymnastics routine to this song complete with back walkovers when it came out in 2003. Every lady got at least a little bit of ancestral witch in her. Plz don’t forget. Collect those dope rocks or shells or dead plants or whatever gives you strength, my friends. ❤ R
Coreografaba(??) una rutina a esta cancion cuando era nina. Cada mujar/chica tiene por lo menos poca bruja en su persona. Colecciona las piedres especiales o los caracoles especiales o las plantes muertes especiales – lo que te da la esfuerza, mis amigxs. (Perdon..mi espanol no es perfecto :D)
Hello my long lost internet friends! Turns out I am not great at balancing working full time and trying to maintain a blog and make pretty Things at the same time. But I gots a new series of Things I’ve been working on and will be posting soon. How have you been? I hope you’re having a lovely day, friend. It’s nice to see you again.
I’ll be hanging out and peddling my wares at the first ever (!!) Wallingford Holiday Market in Seattle, and YOU SHOULD COME HANG OUT WITH ME. Please? I’d be thrilled to meet you. November 30 from 10 am – 3 pm.
I’ll have some cards, prints, originals, journals, tote bags, and other things with my art on them. I’d like to think people that you care about would be thrilled to receive them as gifts, because I made all of them with lots of love and would be very happy to know that other people get joy from them.
I’ll post some photos of these alleged wares later, but if you can’t be there in person, feel free to shoot me a message and I’ll ship em your way.
Recent art show was very lovely! Managed to smash two of my frames right out the gate during set up, but so it goes right? Never the soft adventure of undoom? All the other artists near me were so incredibly warm and helpful!
I’ve been bad at posting. Been working on lots of new things and getting ready to be in a couple holiday markets! More details to follow. But more importantly: how are you? I hope your brain has been full of lovely ideas and joy lately, my currently-reading-this friend.
Hello friends! I’ve been terrible at posting lately! How are you? How has your week been? I hope you’re doing well. I’ve been busy trying to plan out what to show and how to show it at an upcoming show in Seattle. Here’s my space having been turned into a staging ground for how to arrange things.
A beautiful diary from the perspective of a zucchini plant being grown on the International Space Station. He is lonely, but full of love, and I can only imagine the astronaut writing on his behalf might feel similar.
I sprouted, thrust into this world without anyone consulting me. I am not one of the beautiful; I am not one that by any other name instills flutters in the human heart. I am the kind that makes little boys gag at the dinner table thus being sent to bed without their dessert. I am utilitarian, hearty vegetative matter that can thrive under harsh conditions. I am zucchini – and I am in space.
His growth brings joy in space:
My gardener fusses with my leaves. I am not sure if I like that. I now have four and I do not quite understand why he behaves this way. He sticks his nose up against them. Does he take me for some sort of a handkerchief? Apparently he takes pleasure in my earthy green smell. There is nothing like the smell of living green in this forest of engineered machinery. I see the resultant smile. Maybe this is one of my roles as a crewmember on this expedition.
On Valentine’s day, when the astronaut is speaking with his partner on Earth:
He said to her, “I can not offer you much; I can only give you a space zucchini.” The image of my orange blossom was beamed across the void between spacecraft and Earth. Her heart melted. I felt as much a rose as any rose could ever be. He picked my flower and opened a large book, an atlas. Placing my bloom on the map of Texas, over Houston town, he closed the book and clamped it shut with a piece of Kapton tape. He said come July, when our mission is over, he will present this to her in person. I thought that something must be wrong for both of them had tears. In space, tears do not run down your cheeks but remain as a glob in the corner of your eye.
Normally I grow vegetables outside every year, but I was traveling too much this summer to care for them properly. But these little fancy lettuces in my aerogarden are killing it and make me happy every time I see them.