Quick progress pic: Ishtar with crown and regalia (warning: NSFW if you’re a total frickin’ perv)

More goddess previews

Osun: Yoruban

Bastet: Egyptian

Freya: Norse

Xochiquetzal: Mayan

Ishtar: a variety of Mesopotamian cultures

Ishtar

One of the goddesses for my sales table at an upcoming show. And (drum roll, please) took the picture myself. Cameraphobia, I cast thee OUT.

Click for a whopping big view… let me see if I can find how she looked originally.

Here, like this -sorry about the tiny stolen image.

Falling in love again

On Saturday my hands stopped shaking for a while, thanks to sleep, food that stayed down, and yes, drugs, so I was able to try a new paintbrush I’d ordered.

Painting on a very small scale has distinct challenges, particularly when the surface is irregular. Generally detail work is all about pointing: the ability of a brush’s bristles to come to a smoothly tapered sharp end when wet. Kolinsky, squirrel, goat hair… high-grade soft natural bristles, expertly trimmed, make the best points and hold a proportionately large amount of paint. The problem is springback; I need a precise point, but I also need it to have some body, some bounce, in order to “draw” in different directions without constantly rotating the piece, and super-soft bristles won’t do. Synthetic fibers are better-suited, but even ones designed for miniature painting haven’t made me happy so far. They lose point quickly, split or curl or develop stray hairs, and I have a very, very light touch with a brush. Unbelievably frustrating, working around your tools.

Then, this weekend, the Silver Eagles came into my life.

No, not an aerobatic squadron – two little paintbrushes, with points worthy of dancing angel feet and enough spring to slap you in the face and make you want more. I feel as though I’ve been painting with a toilet brush until now… ahhhhhh.

Hello, my little love. Hello, you gorgeous 20/0 sharp round. With you in my hand, I can paint anything.

(Monday) Gearing up for the first session with my alliteratively-named therapist and I can’t stay away from these brushes – I keep running upstairs to do just one more thing, running downstairs to make phone calls, thinking of something else to sketch in, running back upstairs… it’s lurv, all right.

Fabric shopping!

More later, but I’m looking at two things:

1. High-end dominatrix gear, and
2. pleather, baby. Wet-look vinyl – trying to decide between four-way and two-way stretch.*

I’m thinking of a combination of this:

and this:

Not for me, silly. For a doll. La petite poupeé. FUN.

*edited to add: after feeling swatches, the answer is obviously four-way. It’s much thinner and drapier, better for small-scale work, and besides, it’s called “four-way.”

The bitch is BACK.

Maybe it was the successful Christmas pudding (more on that later).

Maybe it was the continued outpouring (inpouring?) of lurv and support from my grrls and my dollfriends and my Scrogues and everyone.

Maybe I’m just sick of my morbid, joy-sucking self.

Or maybe… it was this:

Sultan finished; in the mail tomorrow

Now for Red Riding Hood’s Wolf, which is at the armature stage.

And a nice long bath.

(more of Scheherazade on this site)

Osun: Yoruban Goddess of Love

“When she possesses her followers she dances, flirts and then weeps – because no one can love her enough, and the world is not as beautiful as she knows it could be.”

Oh. That strikes a chord.

The Orisha, Oshun

Linda Falorio 1994

Another great day. Enough great days now.

Whew.

Took six dolls. Sold four. Took two commissions. Met wonderful people. One more day. Tired now.

Yawn.

Still happy.

Doll show update number two: another great day.

Sold another doll, Scheherazade. Pre-sold the companion to it (meaning, I wanted to do him anyway, but the buyer now has him reserved with a down payment). Had another offer to produce my patterns. A VLD (very large dealer) wants to carry my one-of-a-kind BJD fashions. And just in general, people were so, so nice and helpful. I think that people who do what they truly love have this built-in sense of self and security, because they know that’s what they’re supposed to be doing. I feel that way about teaching. In the end, all the annoyances and paperwork and the few bad apples are of no consequence at all… good work is its own reward.

Oh, and Helene loved her Scully cowgirl shirt – it’s black with a cream yoke and embroidered roses, long cream gauntlet cuffs, and rhinestones. I got her a black straw hat (a real one, though) and a pink bandanna to complete the ensemble. We’ll Texanize that Yankee yet.

Plus my mom was here this morning to see me off; she stayed overnight. Today she’s off to Marble Falls for the 2007 Sisterama – the festival where my mother and my three aunts float on the river, eat junk food, drink, and take goofy pictures of each other. It’s become an annual event, Little Women with reading glasses and Bud Lights, and no kids or husbands are allowed. We can only imagine the bacchanalia.