On art, on memoir...



"Loretta", 2011, polymer clay/acrylic/varnish sealer



So much to tell....primarily because it's been several weeks since I posted. This is due in part to my "day job", something I'll go into later, the holidays, and the general feeling that I had nothing new to really say. Strange, Weird, and Wonderful Magazine, for whom I have written several horror stories since 2008, has decided to cease publication with the fall issue. I wrote an apocalypse story back in May at the editor's request from a prompt he provided. After that, and a slew of other similar disappointments, I decided that writing has begun to be a somewhat hopeless enterprise. I've begun posting on Fictionaut and, of course, at Literary Outlaw, which I know I need to update. And more frequently, I have begun to clutch my coffee mug and head down to my basement studio and make things. I've been doing this since February or March. And now I'm beginning to sell a few items. I am so happy to see my work go to wonderful homes. I've sent "Loretta" (left), a pin depicting the 'den mother' to the made-up Lesser Known Girl Gang, to a new home. I'm very grateful to Loretta's new owner, Lindsey, for her wonderful note about about much she likes her. This definitely keeps me returning to the studio to create.



In other news, I've gotten some really good feedback on a memoir piece I wrote last year (or was it earlier this year?....I'm not sure....time has gone so fast, I can barely keep track anymore.) Originally, I wrote it for a hypertext project curated by Dan Waber (a project Chris Bowen of Burning River told me about--thank you, Chris!). I titled the work, Italy, 1990, because I went on a business trip to said country with my parents that year. Actually, I went on more than one business trip--all told, there was one to Atlanta, one to Chicago, and one to Europe--but Italy kept me out of school the longest and left the greatest impact on me. My experience with the machinery salesmen and the technicians helped to define who I have become. Had it not been for these experiences, I might not have attempted a foreign language with as much zeal. I might also have felt less comfortable running around Europe later, when I was on my own, trying to figure out train time tables, scuffing my shoes on the cobblestones outside monuments and grand mansions. But more on all this later.....I realize now that that day job I was talking about above is calling. Time to get into the car, turn up the radio, and zone for an hour until I get to campus. *sigh* Two weeks, kids, two weeks.