Monday, October 31, 2011

Black Cats and Pumpkins.

I went to a pumpkin carving party at my friend cesar's house. My pumpkin started molding two days after I carved it. What the heck?? I had to throw it away. I think it is the fault of the moist Seattle climate.

Delicious Chocolate Skulls Made From Scratch By Cesar.

Spooky Plants

Jen's Clever Pumpkins

Myrtle, a Black Cat

Cesar's Creepy Toothed Pumpkin

Cobwebs, Oh My!

Cesar and His Halloween Cat

My Pumpkin (its a bat!)
  I wanted to make two pumpkins, a bat and an owl face. But I couldn't find any smaller sized pumpkins and I didn't want to cart to big pumpkins on the bus so I just carved a bat. I'm saving the owl face for next year. Happy Halloween!

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Fauna, Flora, and Natural Specimen Sketchbook Pt. 1

Here are some drawings from my 'fauna, flora and natural specimen sketchbook.'













For my birthday this year David got me a kindle! I opened my present early, on the same day that the new Haruki Murakami book came out (in America). 'Wind-Up Bird Chronicle' and 'Kafka on the Shore' are two of my favorite books and I have been eagerly looking forward to Murakami's latest book. The new book is called 1Q84, and I downloaded it promptly after opening the kindle. So far, it is living up to my high expectations. It has a lot of the qualities I love in Murakami books- realistic and well developed characters, an odd sense of surrealism, an air of mystery and an enthralling plot. Many of Murakami's books are strange and surreal but his characters always feel so alive that it is easy to suspend disbelief. After reading ' Wind up Bird Chronicle,' I remember riding my bike and thinking how I missed Toru Okada (the main character) and wondering what he was up too. I use to belong to a fantasy/sci-fi book club where we took turn's choosing books for the club to read. I always wanted to chose a Murakami book during my turn, but hesitated because he doesn't write straight out fantasy. His books take place in a slightly more fantastical version of our world. Although I love traditional fantasy, there is something more gripping to me about these familiar but bizarre worlds that Murakami creates. After reading his books, it makes me feel like the world I live in could suddenly take a fantastical twist.

Friday, October 28, 2011

A Whale in a Bed of Green Foilage.

Here is another animal diorama I made with a painting of a whale and a real life crab.



All of the 'animal curiosity specimen diorama's' that i have posted recently I made this summer. I set up a card table outdoors and worked out in the sunshine while listening to mystery novels on my mp3 player. It was nice having an outdoor studio for a couple of months.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

An Alley Way in Fremont and Two Incidents of Mind Reading

While in Fremont I took an alley way as a short cut from one place to another. Who knew it would provide such an abundant amount of subject matter from photographs! Including these two humping dogs. Ha!














The other day while walking outside I was thinking about...shoes! Yes, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it. I sound like a character from a chick lit novel about a girl obsessed with shoes and shopping. I was thinking about how I want to buy a pair of high heels because I don't own a pair. Women really do look classy when they wear heels and they make such a satisfying clicking sound. I can wear them to the next wedding I attend. (Lately I've been going to quite a few weddings, but I'm not complaining. I love going to weddings!) The only problem is what about the dancing? Dancing is integral part of weddings, and I can hardly walk in high heels let alone dance. Maybe I should bring another pair of more reasonable shoes to change into when the dancing starts. It would be funny if some one brought a pair of sneakers to change into for the dancing. Although practical, it would be completely incongruous with a wedding atmosphere. Just as I was thinking all these shoe filled thoughts, a man walked by me and said "Nice Shoes!" Weird! It was like he knew I was thinking about shoes. It was especially strange because the shoes I was wearing were an ordinary pair of blue rubber boots. I like them, but they are not snazzy and hardly worth comment. Also, the man did not look like a shoe enthusiast. He was a fifty to sixty year old man wearing plain clothes and shoes.
Today, I had another incident of mind reading. While at a marina, I spied an elderly gentlemen relaxing on his boat. It was not a huge motor yacht, but a modest sized boat and slightly worn down. In his lap he had a large bag of potato chips that he was merrily crunching. His eyes were closed and the sunshine was warming his face. He was sitting toward the direction the wind was blowing so he could enjoy the light breeze though his hair. The man looked so content with just the simple act of enjoying chips on his boat on a sunny day. I thought to myself that there was something beautiful about the man or the scene. The moment after I thought this, the man looked my way and smiled at me. It was like he had read my mind too!
Of course I do not really believe either of these men read my mind, but it did give me a good idea for a movie plot! A woman comes from a family with a long line of people with latent magical abilities. Each family member gets a different ability, so it is like a genetic grab bag of magic. The abilities do not manifest themselves until the person turns thirty. Centuries ago, the family was very proud of their magic, but the turning tide of social norms eventually made the family feel ashamed. The social stigma of being 'different' or 'odd' compelled the family to keep their abilities secret. They did not even tell their children that on the morning of their thirtieth birthday, they would wake up irreversibly altered by magic.
So the woman had no idea she would some day be the possessor of a magical power. Her parents encouraged her to live an ordinary life. But despite this, the woman was still drawn toward a life far from ordinary. She became a top secret spy. The government entrusted her with the most sensitive and secretive missions, because she was a quite talented at being a spy. That is until her thirtieth birthday.
Her talent is not that of a mind reader, but of an anti mind reader or a mind book. Everyone around her can read her thoughts! This would be both embarrassing and uncomfortable for an ordinary person, but it is the sort of thing that can be fatal if you are the possessor of top secret information. The woman is confused about what is going on and the government is suspicious. Trouble ensues! It is the type of story that can be a straight forward thriller or a comedy. It can also be a social commentary on wikileaks or the freedom on information in the age of internet.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Ruby, Sherwood, and Sylvan Leaf Person.

I made a new batch of leaf people. Their heads are made from real pressed autumn leaves. I painted their faces with acrylic paint.


Here is Ruby.


Ruby grew up in an old tree with a thick trunk and withered bark. She spent her early Autumn rustling in the wind. Life was like a constant dance party as she rustled and jived with the leaves around her. When she fell from the comfort of her tree, she felt both sad and excited. She drifted toward the ground and landed on the mud soaked earth. It was the first time she had felt earth beneath her. She did not like the disconcerting solidness of the ground. She misses the wind beneath her toes. She is constantly haunted by her nostalgia for life as a young leaf in the tree. As an adult leaf, she spends much time alone. She likes to read Victorian ghost stories or paint landscapes using dreary grays and muted blues.

Here is Sherwood.


Everyday for breakfast Sherwood has a pumpkin muffin and a mug of orange spice tea. While nibbling on his muffin and sipping on his tea, he enjoys the morning crossword. When he is done with breakfast, he likes to take long walks in the woods where he listens to the birds chirp and the insects buzz. He often looks for the tree he grew up in, but he can never find it. He heard a rumor that the tree was cut down by flannel clad lumber jacks with wooly beards and axes slung over their hefty shoulders. The notion of his tree being just a stump makes Sherwood feel disconnected and wistful. He hopes that one day he will find one of the leaves he grew up with. Maybe together they will find the long lost tree.

Here is Sylvan.



Sylvan is a widower who now lives alone in a woodland cabin. He still misses his wife and talks to her as if she were still alive and by his side. He looks out his window and see's a deer frolic by, and he instinctively reaches for his wives hands, in order to show her the graceful creature. But all he grasps is cold air. But he still tells her of the deer, just as if she were there by his side. In his spare time he plays the banjo. He makes up songs about his beloved wife and about all the things he meant to do in life but for whatever reason, never did.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Things I've Seen Lately.

The willow tree captures the soft glow of a street light.
The diminishing sunlight outlines the houseplants before slipping away until morning.
The sky at sunset is the color of Autumn and tangerines.
I befriend a moth with wings the color of old lace and legs like flower filaments.


The sunflower's heavy heads droop toward a ground covered with fallen leaves.