fanciful devices: Putting the "Oooo" in "New" since 1834

A Stone Is Nobody's

A man ambushed a stone. Caught it.
Made it a prisoner.
Put it in a dark room and stood guard over it for the rest of his life.

His mother asked why.

He said, because it's held captive, because it is captured.

Look, the stone is asleep, she said, it does not know whether it's in a garden or not. Eternity and the stone
are mother and daughter; it is you who are getting old. The stone is only sleeping.

But I caught it, mother, it is mine by conquest, he said.

A stone is nobody's, not even its own. It is you who are conquered; you are minding the prisoner, which is yourself,
because you are afraid to go out, she said.

Yes yes, I am afraid, because you have never loved me, he said.

Which is true, because you have always been to me as the stone is to you, she said.

Russell Edson

FAQs

1. Are you a Southeast Asian dancing girl from the 1800s?

No, sorry to disappoint. My avatar and banner images are from an ancient book I found in the depths of my grandmother's cabinets. More on that here.

2. How do you make everything look so old?

First, you need a good oxidizer to brush on every bit of metal you can reach. I'll tell you all about it here.

Then there's this wax. I first mentioned it here. You'll have to scroll down a lot.

3. How can you be so productive?

I'm insanely obsessed and I have no offspring. I do nothing else- I don't have a day job, I don't clean my house or cook, I spend all day in pjs, often completely abandoning personal hygiene... I only interact with other humans when I walk my dog. And I like people! But I prefer dogs.

And I'm sloppy- but I make that sloppiness work for me.

4. Any tips you'd like to share?

No! Except for these 16 posts about techniques and this one about how to find your aesthetic.

5. Would you be offended if I took some inspiration from your designs?

Well, I'd be happier if you outright copied them.

No really, imitation is how we learn. I have enough ideas to go around. And even if I don't- please. No one's going to do this obsessively enough to threaten my business. (Probably.) I learned by copying others and I've seen others copy me as a step toward developing their own voice. So feel free. (I'd love if you tossed me a link in my comments, so I can feel like a proud momma.)

6. What do you look like?

Why, what have you heard? Really? Wow.

9/6/10

Putting the "Oooo" in "New" since 1834

We Are His Sleep. Antique Feather Assemblage Neckpiece.

Took some pix. Is it as lame as I think it is to spell it 'pix'? I always want to spell it w/an 'f', as in fotos, since I realized they write it like that in Spanish.
We Are His Sleep. Antique Feather Assemblage Neckpiece.

The fiber and tiny nailheads are from Sparrow. The silver bits and chess piece from Uruguay, the feathers from Opulent Oddities' gift box. I think some of the crochet I used for backing I dyed myself, but it sure looks just like Sparrow bits.
We Are His Sleep. Antique Feather Assemblage Neckpiece.

(Shouldn't I have something deeper to say about it? I used a great Rilke poem in the description...))
The Confabulation of My Girlhood

So it's only right, since my girl's contributed, to show some of their awesome pieces. This one is from Op Odd, of course. Her stuff makes me think she's just rolling around in PILES of antique bits. It screams abundance.
radiant Sun - tribal salvage hoop earrings - recycled metal and Czech glass beads

radiant Sun - tribal salvage hoop earrings - recycled metal and Czech glass beads

Lately, Sparrow's gotten into some crazy color. Technicolor rainbows fused with grungy darkness? Somehow, she makes it work. Check it.
desert sky - hammered recycled metal and copper beaded earrings

desert sky - hammered recycled metal and copper beaded earrings

Anywhozits, I also listed these little shabby-chiquers. Skating on Bones. Antique Button and Rag Earrings.

I used a great poem sent to me in a poetry mountain. The red made me think of drops of blood in snow, which made me think of the poem.

Tintype on the Pond, 1925

Believe it or not,
the old woman said,
and I tried to picture it:
a girl,
the polished white ribs of a roast
tied to her boots with twine,
the twine coated with candle wax
so she could glide
uninterrupted
across the ice—
my mother,
skating on bones.

- J. LORRAINE BROWN

So I named them Skating on Bones. Thanks Denise!