And now for more of the same

Made some necklaces with finger-crocheted beads, trying to keep them simple.

This is a bell from RaggedRobyn into which I set a druzy geode.

I even got the hook to try to crochet and couldn't figure out how to make it work! So I just used me mitts.This cluster has a gold-leafed druzy and an authentic tusk from somewhere and a carved tourmaline. 

This leather thing is some kind of prayer pouch from Nepal or thereabouts.


This lady from Kathystash. The theme is just assemble clusters of stuff and call it good. The extender chain ends in a polybead I made that in real life looks cool cuz there's a layer of translucent poly over crackled gold leaf. The photo didn't want to play along though.


So I had to make more of these since they seem to fly off the shelves.


Lots of experimentation with the cornflake beads in these, not always showing the effort applied unfortunately.


Fun anyways. Cut into some tin from Uruguay I was using to keep supplies in.


Oh boy what can I tell you more interesting than this? That Mr. Devices spends all his time at a UFC gym across the street now? Yeah, Mr. D the biggest baby in the world --who trips over his own feet and jumps and screams and bounces around swearing if the cats as much as swipe their paws in his general direction-- is now sparring in the ring and has even received his first few punches to the face.


His trainer sent him home with a message for me. "He told me to tell you I took it like a champ!" Says the D-ster, bursting with excitement, showing off his very first bruise. He asked if I could see it and it was just a little red and swollen right over, well, where his cheek bone would be if he had any. "It looks like very subtle, very well-done plastic surgery to give you cheek bones." I say to his chagrin. "Ask him if he can make it permanent."


Unfortunately when D-money picks up a new interest, it becomes an all-encompassing obsession. So I guess there's some channels that only show all-MMA fights all the time? (MMA= mixed martial arts. UFC= ultimate fighting champion. I know you really wanted that information in your heads.)
And I've tried. I fancy myself a tough girl, or at least not a girly one. So I settle in, give my comments about the relative hotness of the opponents, correct the announcer's grammar or whatever it is I do...


And I'm cool watching a few punches. And then they start punching each other square in the face and I just can't handle it. Or if one of them is over the other punching and the other guy is trying not to pass out and the top guy is wailing ... ugh, I can't stand it. I'm constantly screaming at the ref to stop the fight and getting mad that they don't do it sooner. All I can think about is brain damage.


Meanwhile the fighters might win after some of those attacks and you see these guys all swollen and even bloodied just laughing and holding up their arms in victory... I've decided it hurts me more than it hurts them.


And after they just hug each other and pat each other on the back. If the looser is interviewed he's like, "Naw, dude fought really good. I'm proud of him, he's been training hard."  ???


I applied some waterslide decals, the tensha ones etsybud Claudia sent, on to these tin cones. You can't really trust they'll stay on, I glue them on and seal over the top. And for that matter, I tone them down with a bunch of muddy paint so they'll blend into the tin and not look so out of place.


Whole black thing going here... So anyways Mom's like, "Do you think it's good for him to go and fight like that?" Like it's gonna turn him into some killer rage junkie.


But her idea of fighting was developed in the South America of the 50s so who knows. She once thought my brother in law was addicted to gambling when in fact he was playing on-line fantasy football. When I explained to her what fantasy football actually is (which I had to do over my dad's shouts of "she knows what fantasy football is" even though she so obviously didn't. This is why we always end up screaming over dinner. Goddamn it. Dad thinks everyone knows what he knows, has the same experiences as he has and the same point of reference and it's maddening. What was I talking about... ?)


Oh yeah, when I finally explained it to her she was still in a snit over wanting to insist bro-in-law was on-line gambling so she just barked, "How do you know so much about this anyways?"
"Um, because I watch TV?"


I'm kinda super psyched to show you these beads. I made them!!! Don't they look like I drilled some nuts or something?


That's right, annoying personal tales that lead nowhere are over, back to the joolz. So these are polymer. Before you ask how I made them, lemme tell you, I almost burnt the house down.


Like, this is white and translucent clay. I guess I pressed 375 on the oven instead of 275. Next thing I know there's this thick layering of smoke just hanging in the air.... Mr. D almost had a heart-attack. Have I mentioned he's a wimp and frets about every little thing?

So all the places where there's convex bumps, that's from the burning. The little concave ones and the striation, that's me. Also the rubbed-in contrasting patina or... I don't know what to call it.  I'm especially in love with the striations. I made them quite a bit thinner than recommended in all the faux-bone/ivory/wood tutes, passing my layers through the roller a bunch of times before I realized it. Then I spent an hour making all these little pokeys to look like idk, aging of some sort, next thing I know they're charred black and smoking in my sink. I am disappoint! as they say on tumbler. But then I took a closer look, checked them for strength, trying to poke holes and break them apart... and slowly started freaking my shit.


I was bloodied and swollen but I laughed and raised my arms in victory (SEE HOW I DID THAT I BROUGHT IT AROUND TO THE PREVIOUS STORY THAT NOW DOESN'T SEEM QUITE AS POINTLESS THO STILL PRETTY POINTLESS OMG SO CLEVER)


Point being, I'll never be able to re-create those beads so I don't know if I should sell them or just use them all my own greedy self.


Oh, yeah- I finally got a pasta rolling machine for polymer! And my very 1st experiment with it was a roller coaster ride of emotions. (GET IT ROLLER COASTER??? Oh me. I'm on a ROLL!!!)


Look- these are my glitz and grime beads but followed with a crackle layer and a paint layer! Mamma like.


These were followed with a way-too-thick crackle layer so they didn't crackle. But that glossy topping somehow makes the opal flakes under the translucent poly layer visible again. So weird.


So much fun to expurrament.


These actually have a layer of leaf under the top not-translucent-enough poly layer.


Thought I'd make that inner layer more visible with some faceting, but just ended up with some interesting faceting.


Highlighted the facet edges in blue just cuz.

This one in a darker blue so you pretty much can't see any of the inner leaf layer. Still cool though maybe? (As much as polypeeps do to keep fingerprints off their beads and I find myself admiring mine. It's a cool-ass texture if you ask me. )

OK, so about a week ago I got this package in the mail. I pull out these soft papers and lay out before me...

This gorgeous array of photos by the students I gave my little talk to in Virginia!

I can't even tell you how moved I was. I had them all out on the table and at one point I told my folks they had to come over and see. As I was showing them off, I see Dad looking intently at the back of one. I'm like, "Silly Dad, that's not how you art!" And then start flipping them all over as I realized there were notes to me on the back of every one! Here's a little collage of them:

And now I feel very immodest for sharing all this redonk flattery. But I was so moved I was like yelling and gasping and Mom said I was unbearable and dragged Dad home. Which is another theme between me and my parents, along with the yelling- Mom declaring me unbearable.

In other news, this little guy is now named Blanquito, following our tradition of naming cats the first thing that occurs to us when we look at them. It's the way all nicknames are arrived at in Uruguay, and explains why people end up referred to as "el Gordo" and "La Negra". (It's the same Italian-derived custom that leads to everyone on Jersey Shore having a nick name without fail.) 

All he wants to do is get cuddles, here he is asleep on my leg. I've always wanted a lap pet and never had one in all my life! He's young and wants to play with Chiquita and she hisses and swats- it's scary. Yesterday I thought he was attacking her but now we realized he was trying to play.

In fact, a few hours ago, mom sent us this picture of a truce being reached. Not unlike Pax Romana, we hope this interval of tranquility will hold for 200 years. (It's 4:30am and I'm sitting here Googling Pax Romana to check how long it lasted? WTF is wrong with me it's not even a good joke.)

Now turn up your volumes to enjoy this ridiculously ridiculous compilation of snoring animals.