Toys and toys





There was just another toy show, and here are some things I made for it. Don't know why the pic is so gritty. I suppose I could slow down long enough for the camera to focus.

The theme of the show was illustrations, including comics, traditional animation and storybooks. So I did Totoro, Pinocchio, my Lonely Sea Monster (I just always wanted to see him 3d), Danny and the Dinosaur (Syd Hoff book), and a sea creature from an Edward Gorey book called The Tuning Fork. Loved an excuse to try Gorey and still get to do a sea monster.

Pinocchio turned out pretty scary, but so is the 1968 version of the book I had as a kid. The illustrations and cover were frightening.

Toys

Magic Tricks



I was looking for a different book but happened across this one on Ebay. It's a book of simple magic tricks.



I had this book when I was a kid (or it was my sister's), and I was really excited to see it again. I used to be fascinated and horrified by THIS BOOK. 


Spook5


Because I guess I was so young (and stupid) when I read it, that I didn't have an accurate grasp on the meaning of a magic trick. I thought this book told how to ACTUALLY MAKE A F$CKING HOLE IN YOUR HAND!  WOW!
Spook4

And as cool as that would be (for about five minutes), who is brave enough to do such a crazy thing for all time?!! I was a little bit afraid that if I even read about this I would find a hole in my hand.



Then there was this spooky damn handkerchief that could make coins come and go. I didn't own a handkerchief OR a coin, but I might have risked trying this one. My grandma had handkerchiefs in her drawer, but I figured those couldn't possibly be the right kind for this type of awesome feat.

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Then there was this hypnotic little ghost who showed us how to write secret messages with lemon juice. Not so scary to try since I'd heard some mention of lemon ink magic on Brady Bunch, but still...that tiny ghost sitting on the lemon. Was he going to show up and help me write? Was I up for that?
Spook3


Holy crap, yes, he might show up. He even had a name: Willie. The book instructed us to tell our friends we have this little ghost as a helper, which I may or may not have announced to my grade school. 

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I kind of wanted him to be my friend and helper, but his eyes were unacceptable. Willie might smile a lot and still kill me in my sleep.



I wish there were more pictures from the interior of the book, as I remember some of them were more traumatizing. So I call this book a smash success. Do the tricks or don't, it still gives plenty of horrific and haunting outcomes to think about when you are barely old enough to read.

Small World

Today I ran across an article about a particular veterinarian in Capistrano Beach, CA, and of all veterinarians on the planet, this happens to have been my dogs' vet when we lived in California a few years ago. This was the period when Acorn began her eye misadventures that led to one visit after another, and eventually she was in one of those satellite dish collars with one eye and really bad nausea from an antibiotic. The doctor warned that she might not be able to keep them down, and sure enough she made nice puddles of red-pill vomit up and down the stairs of our apartment.

acornschool
One-eyed Acorn


So when Acorn went back to see this vet, he took hold of her satellite dish with both hands and peered inside the cone to ask, "Are we feeling sick, honey?"  And she immediately projectile vomited into his face. What didn't hit his face landed all inside the collar.

It was great.

I mean, it was terrible.

But I still let out a big burst of laughter before I shut it down and said I was sorry. The guy took it really well and made some joke as he cleaned himself up.

Stuff for the fridge door...

I haven't been good about posting things I made lately. At least I can't remember. Earlier I posted some clay bits I was working on....





And here it is finished:



And I made my second owl...



Then this girl and her goblin.





I tried to work on a new story, but can't get anywhere...


When I go look at children's books at the store I realize I'm so horribly out-dated, drawing in ink. Everyone is using computers, and I just seem old and stubborn.

But my full-time job is on a computer, and that's all the staring at a screen I can take for the day. Real pencils touching real paper is still the same treat as it was in kindergarten, only I really hated those big fat beginner pencils with a really dull lead...Oh, and that horrible newsprint paper in the Big Chief paper pads. Blech... And crayons. I hated crayons so much...

HOT




It's officially already too hot to walk anywhere, and my advice is to not wear flip-flops for your trek. When you find yourself baking and wanting to speed up the route to safety, the awkwardness of flip-flops becomes the difference between life and death.



Disappointed...


Angus is nuts about balls and balloons. Obsessed. Chews and slobbers and rolls them around until he's filthy and about to heatstroke. When the ball is taken away he will cry about it and look for it the rest of the day.

He was delighted to find a stray soccer ball in the back yard this morning. I don't know if the neighbor gave it to him or if a kid tossed it over on accident, so I threw it back over the fence before Angus destroyed it. Then Angus spent the whole morning by the fence, moaning and obsessing. Every time I went outside he stared at me with anticipation, then disappointment. 




His day is ruined.




Scribbles

Testing out new paper and pens...





Mmmm. Paper is delicious.



On a separate note... I sure hate to give up my LiveJournal account after all these years, but I get spam from it about five times a day. And it takes five or six tries to upload a photo because of so many errors, glitches, and some days I just give up. This site doesn't seem to do much maintenance.

Party

I know it's just one of those stupid images that get passed around, but I like to think sometimes they are from a real event where things happened that should not normally be able to happen. Like cats dancing with a group of people and knowing to face the camera. And they aren't even drunk.

But I think everyone else here is.

Tiny stuff

I like to draw really really small, so I have lots of doodles that are about 3x3 inches. Most of them go in the trash or get left here and there, but I'm going to start keeping some and watercoloring them.



Painted version:



Framed tiny pic...




I need adult supervision at the art table. Or maybe a bowl of positive-reinforcement fortune cookies with messages like:

Keep going.
Don't throw that away.
That doesn't suck as bad as you think it does.
Don't give up -- there's a 65% chance it will look a lot better when it's done.
If you accomplish something today you will be less suicidal.
Painting will soothe the evil beast that is the hidden half of your soul.
There is no meaning in life, but drawing is pretty cool anyway.

Do this or go back to school and learn a real skill.

Indian Palace

I met my friend at an Indian restaurant today that is in this beautiful building...actually, I think you can call it a palace.




As we walked up to the building from behind I noticed there is an open grassy area with this pretty, smaller building, so I wanted to go over and take a picture.



On the way to the building (and for a few minutes after we reached it) I was rambling about a horror movie called that I just saw advertise.

"It's called Pig Hunt. It's supposed to be kind of funny and stupid and full of boobs...Hey...Sh*t...I can't work this camera. I'm so f*cking stupid. Stupid f*cking camera."





Then I step forward to actually take the pic and notice a woman kneeling behind one of the pillars. And then I notice what is a MEMORIAL plaque.




So I've been standing there cursing in front of a little memorial/meditation area like crazy. We both instantly go quiet, back away. I need to wash my filthy mouth out with soap.

And a couple hours later I realize the pretty obvious joke in the title of the pig movie.