Field Trip!

Hey people. Last week an old art pal of mine (okay- she's not old, but we're pretty good buds is what I mean) came up to my place and we went on a little expedition to a junk yard one town over.

For those of you who've never been to a junk yard-- if you're going (for art purposes anyway), be sure to bring a couple buckets, some gloves, shoes you don't care about getting dirty (this actually goes for all your clothing), a camera, and a big smile-- because until you win them over the junk yard guys are going to think you're a total weirdo & not want to let you in.

You need to convince them you aren't going to be a big pain in the butt, or try to make off with any saleable parts, or sue them if you get a scratch or whatever, and you aren't going to be high maintenance and need a whole bunch of help that will take them away from their actual work.

Once we convinced them to let us into the inner sanctum (the main yard), and that we were only after basically garbage (to them)-- little rusty do-dahs laying around on the ground etc, we began scavenging. That's when I first saw her---

The first thing I said was, "Oh honey..." because to me she was beautiful, and a little dangerous looking, with her chicken wire windshield. What kind of a life did she live before winding up here? Then I saw the remains of her race number.

Her and everybody else probably thought she was done for. End of the line. Wrong. Not now that I've seen her. WAY too cool to let her just up and die in a field somewhere. I'm plotting how to haul her to my place, maybe in one piece, maybe in sections. The junk yard main cog told me I can have her cheap. She's not restorable. All I see is beauty here-- and stories.

She has friends too. Check out this crackling paint. Pretty cool huh?

Hmm. Same age as me. Maybe it's no coincidence I find all the "flaws" and "destruction" on these old beauties are what makes them the most interesting. The broken glass shone like jewels.

Look at this design. You just don't see this anymore-- well, that's not totally true-- there is good design out there, but it's kind of like music I guess-- I have a deep appreciation of the roots, even as I enjoy the new. Look at the moss growing on the frame. Cool.

When I saw this hood I thought "Blue Roan." I've got a big horse in my brain right now. I recently saw a half-Percheron, half-Frisian-- huge and gorgeous-- thick arched neck, sculpted muscular legs, kind of a short back for his height, compact head. I see it dappled-- blue, white, & blue-gray steel. But roan would be cool too.

Look at this transformation-- the bleached paint with rust coming through, like a beach-- waves on a beach.

After filling our buckets we headed over to some other art bud's place to see what they've been up to. There was so much more awsomeness it won't all fit in one post. I decided to do a whole post just dedicated to that visit over on the art blog, so check over there later today.

In other SueNews:

Around the old hacienda it's the cat's favorite time of year-- when they find little spots in the perennials or underbrush to take a nap jungle style.

That is when they're not sacking-out on the deck...
(This is Ray.)

Rough life huh?
(This is Tootie, Mike's main squeeze- Yes, they're still a "thing".)

This was funny-- the other day me and Trusty Pam went up to St. Cloud to check out the "Jail Trail". (We're trying to expand our horizons.) No sooner had we got the bikes off the car than this young guy, about 20 or so, goes, "I think I've heard of you-- Is that Penny?"

I almost died laughing! "Yep-- this is her. You can touch her for a quarter." That's right, Penny is now famous.

The Jail Trail was fun, interesting, lots flatter than our normal trail (Hillside), but TONS of trees super tight against the trail, and tons of twists etc. Very, very tight trail. Pam was in the lead, and I was just thinking how she should probably always lead when we check out a new trail because I'm way more cautious and it would probably frustrate her to follow me. I'd for sure do a slow recon run, then maybe hit it again if I still had any gas in the tank, or just come back and be bolder next time.

I was just thinking of some witty remark to make like, "I may be more cautious, but you def get more bloody," (I have the record for the most spectacular, bone breaking crash, but Pam def has the record for the most blood spilled, and most "dismounts.")-- when WHAM. She totally nailed a tree with her knee. She got a point-- blood all the way to the sock = 1 point.

We walked for a while until it seemed to bleed a little slower at least. We didn't get very far before we got to this weird rickety bridge with no sides and missing boards going through a swamp. At the end it dropped off into a patch of really gnarly, super bumpy roots. I was leading now and Penny bucked like a champ but we made it. A little while along I go, "Wow-- those were bumpy huh?" -- Nothing.

I look back and no Pam. I stop and wait. No Pam. I get off my bike and jog back down the trail-- here comes Pam, looking a little shaky-- she went over the bars into the roots. By now she was kind of a wreck, so we walked a bunch more. Of course we had no bug spray. Eventually she felt up to riding again and we took whatever shortcuts we could find back to the lot. We'll have to go back and try for a clean run someday.

My times at the trail are stuck at the 55 minute mark. I can now ride some stuff I couldn't last year, so there is progress being made, but I am not in great shape yet, and probably carrying some extra weight. Next week I'll weigh in and face the music.

Kate though--- sent me this awesome pic of her and Megan riding in a 30 mile ride at their place! They've never ever tried anything like this so it was huge for them. They actually made it the whole ride. Megan said after she probably could have had a better time on her own bike, not having to wait for her mom. (Hmm, not too sure about that, but approve of her spirit.) She's the kid I never had-- she got all riled-up when people would pass them and want to pour it on. Next year she may get a chance to try it on her own bike.

I think it's awesome they were both willing to go outside the box and risk failure to try something new. I'm so glad they had a good experience! Kate-- your seats are kind of low for road riding though! (God-- everyone in this pic's are.)

Some kind of nature

Hey people. Me on vacation for 2 weeks = radio silence. That's probably good. Lots rolling around in my head right now and it's all a jumble of tangled creativity. Better to just be in the moment for a while and let things sort themselves out.

This song, weirdly, sort of expresses how i feel right now-- and, it's just cool, so-- enjoy, and see ya in a couple weeks. :)

It might get loud...

Hey people. Welcome back to Fav Music Fri. Below is a trailer for a vid I rented a couple weeks ago- a documentary about the creative journeys of U2's Edge, Jack White (kaBLAM- head explodes), and rock legend Jimmy Page (Led Zep).

Check it out-- the opening sequence (where Jack MAKES a guitar out of a board, a couple of nails, and an old coke bottle, then plays it with a socket) alone is worth the price of admission.



I'm curious to hear how people who aren't really that into rock receive this. If anyone checks it out-- get back and comment. I found it fascinating- learning about how the different sounds are produced and the ways these guys think about music.

The coolest thing of all though, was seeing how they have really allowed their creativity and passion rule their lives, and determine the paths they took. I was especially delighted by Jimmy Page.

You think of aging rockers as being kind of road worn and tattered from having lived a very hard life of drugs etc, but he didn't give off that at all. He seemed very happy, and the joy he still takes in playing and listening to music is obvious. He kind of radiated joy. Awesome!

Anyway, I really recommend this documentary. It totally sparked me to get going on my own creative stuff.

Speaking of...
In other SUE NEWS:

I'm over 12k (words) in on my new project-- a novel about a girl who's trying to hide the fact that she's all on her own in the world, while doing battle with a very bad guy. The working title is "Threat Level Amber" because her name is amber, and- taking a lot of cues from things her mom taught her about how the world works, and the book "The Art Of War", she becomes pretty formidable.

This weekend I got invited to a reading by an author I really admire. Her agent is the agent I want. I've had some online interaction with her, but I was stunned she actually remembers me and took the time to invite me personally. Can't wait to meet her in person!

It feels really good to be writing again and pulled into that world. But the other world is pulling too.

Art stuff is kind of simmering on the back burner. Next week I fire up the shop again. I have 2 commissions waiting, and a bunch of stuff to begin planning for the coming year. I'm going to approach things a little differently this time around. More on that later.

I'm still pretty heavily involved in grandma stuff. She's definitely in decline. It's weird, being at the end and knowing it. We talked about her trouble breathing yesterday. She said at night when she's having shortness of breath in bed she just tells herself to calm down. She knows it's not going to get better. She's afraid to leave her apartment because she knows even a common cold will kill her at this point. Her life is reduced to breathing, & food and water in and out, broken up by a lot of t.v. and a little reading.

It's come down to just trying to help her be as comfortable mentally and physically as possible while waiting around to die. Seeing this, and how helpless she's become, has made me think squirreling away a bunch of Ambien is an excellent idea. When I'm like, 125 and fading fast, I think it would also be an excellent time to take up heavy drinking.

Brand New Day

Hey people. It's Fav Music Fri again- can you believe it? Wow this week went fast. Summer is slipping through our fingers people. Be sure to grab a few handfuls before it's gone!

Today's pick is one of my all time favorite songs, an anthem really, about starting over. Suddenly many friends seem to find themselves in this position, some just entering new phases, others literally picking up the pieces and starting all over. Happily my life hasn't blown-up, but the words, "No I won't be scared-- I won't be destroyed" are always sort of playing in my background, making me feel like I could face anything if I had to.

Enjoy The Eurythmic's "Brand New Day". Give it a watch, then listen again with your eyes closed. I promise you'll feel like a warrior.


Edit to add: Funny, it's "I won't be SAD" I guess. I like scared better. Whatever resonates for you right?

In other SueNews:

Thanks to all the friends who weighed in on the last post- the part about staying true to your vision even when the market seems to not be responding. Each of you gave me a boost. One smart pal said, "Uh, yeah, follow your heart and all that, yeah yeah yeah, but also-- quit being so lame about your art blog!" She advised me to get out there, let people know what I'm up to, that I'm still over here doing art. So yesterday I put up a NEW POST and within the hour got mega hits and a few good leads. Some people just emailed saying-- "Hey, cool!" which is always, well, cool! So thanks pal. (You know who you are. ;) )

I have a plan in place for getting work over to Door County-- well, as far as my work goes-- what all I'm making etc. Reservations? I'll deal with that when I have a firm date. The welding mojo is working great, and I have tons of ideas. It would be nice if it wasn't so sticky, but, whateves. Get out a fan right?

In the following your heart department-- I have a chance to make a sculpture for the bike trail (they asked). It would be a freebie, but I do love it over there, and it would get seen by a lot of people and hopefully appreciated. Sometimes that can be almost as gratifying as, er... actual money to us art types. Plus-- it would give me a chance to make something completely from my head. You never know. It could wind-up getting me a job or two too. High exposure etc.

Considering the place is basically a thrill ride, a heavily wooded thrill ride through the dirt populated by adrenaline junkies, this is kind of the vibe I'll be going for:



This is an album cover. The actual design is similar in vibe-- it's not this exactly. I'd want it done by the end of July. Wait-- didn't I just get done saying I have tons of stuff to get done for Door County, plus new commissions, and three shows this fall? (Okay technically, no, I didn't actually say all that, but it is true.) Oh well. (shrugs)

Stranger things have happened. I can sometimes do amazing things on a deadline. Stay tuned.

Weird Wed - "My eyes!"

Hey people. This weeks' Weird Wed episode brought to you by the official panel of old white bossy dudes-- okay, not really. But isn't this picture great? "After much deliberation, the board regrets to inform you, you are not approved of." Harrumph harrumph harrumph, or something.

After seeing how Port-Wine-Stain Scarface Doll's face came out, Gingham Dress Doll said, "You know, just leave my face off completely. Faces are way over rated."

The rare Peg Bundy doll, highly sought after by, well, no one really.

OK people. See this bed? Once in my thrilly youth me and a bunch of my delinquent friends found this creepy old huge building out in the woods. It had trees growing up through it and was falling apart, but of course we had to check it out. upstairs there was a room lined with old iron beds like this-- and some had shackles on them! a guy who was from around there told us it used to be an asylum. Creepy huh? It felt mega haunted. (~gets chills~)

Wow, not that there's one thing wrong with that, but, pretty freaky for back in the day huh?

"I'm takin' over this here blue bowl see? And there ain't a man among ya tough enough to stop me see?"

Some weird meat chandelier I guess. Ewe.

Akk! My eyes! They're burning! Make it stop!

Behold the wrong badness people-- just look. It's like Sonny Bono meets Sam Elliott meets, er... a buffalo. It reminds me of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers when that little dog runs up to them and it has a human head attached to its body.

Look-- they even make its unit denim clad. I don't know who thought this was a good idea, but it was not. I apologise to all buffalo's everywhere for this travesty.

In other SueNews:

Thinking about work this week. You know the saying, "not for love or money"? Working strictly for money doesn't really work for me art-wise. The work comes out best when it's for love. Right now is pretty lean times for everyone. I've been trying to figure out the magic formula, but it seems to be "move to mainland china and make stuff that sells for $20 or less".

I hate thinking about the business end of it. I miss the old days (like, two years ago) when I could make whatever popped into my head and people would just give me money. I think the best thing for me to do is forget about the $ right now, and just follow my heart. At least I'll be happy while I'm working. If I'm going to be poor anyway, might as well be poor and fulfilled right?

This way when and if things pick up again, I'll have cool stuff to sell and won't have degraded my work. Any thoughts?

Floatilla 09, & Inspiration for '10

Hey people. Back in April when winter was still pelting us with snow and refusing to leave I had this idea, a vision really, of me and a bunch of my creative compadres in a floating parade of whackness.

As the date of what I called the Floatilla neared, I didn't know what to expect. I'd encouraged people to really go with it, come up with wild floating contraptions, costumes, whatever. Even I had a hard time figuring out how to weird-out my kayak though, and opted for attending as Madame Soucie- fabulous and mysterious star and socialite.

I had fun paddling by people and saying stuff like, "Hello commoners," and, "Madame Soucie is not accustomed to manual labor. She has people." It was fun and a great excuse to wear my uber hat, but I still wish I would have gone even more over the top, made my kayak into some kind of dais.

But my art pals did not disappoint. We had Red Fish Blue Fish...

This mass of fantasticness is BuddyLinda...

The arty neighbors came up with team pirate...

Designer extraordinaire Jamie floated along like
a gypsy dreaming of Pocahontas...

And TrustyPam and daughter (and photographer) (thanks for the pics toots) Brenda
busted out the Gold Power Pants...

There were many others.
Not everyone went creative, but we were still glad they came.

The day was perfect- sunny and warm and the river was lovely.

An excellent time was had by all. Take that snow in April!
(Go to my facebook page to see tons more photos.)

Jamie sent me a link to these folks though, and the bar for next year, for any year, for any kind of floating anything ever, has been permanently raised. They are a group of artists sailing their fleet of art boats to a festival in Venice RIGHT NOW. You can follow them on Twitter.

Look at these. Just look.

They are like dreams.

Aren't they amazing? I'm completely under their spell.

For Floatilla '10 I'm getting some very big ideas involving crews and creative flotsam.

I can feel my creative energies tugging me to the river today, to the junkyard too, when I really need to weld us up some $, and get busy rewriting my novel. I'm thinking at the end of the day there will be a paddle with TrustyPam, and the whole way down the river I'll be envisioning gauzy masts and jumbled staircases and floating cities of vagabond bohemians.

So- Is This Anything?

Looking for some feedback in the art department people. What do you think of old chain link gates made into garden gates-- with colorful steel flowers added, and maybe other artistic touches, maybe holders for potted annuals etc? They could be an actual gate or could just be stuck in the garden or whatever.

Is this a cute idea or is it just me? (Really-- tell me. I don't want to waste my time right now.)

Another idea would maybe be using old screens and somehow making those into gates... (?)

Or old picket fence sections--? I'm thinking undercoated with one color, and top coated with another, roughed up, and then having metal flowers etc worked into the design. Bluebird blue over marigold comes to mind. (???)

Here are some flowers I've been working on.

Originally my idea was to make the entire gate, and that could stick, but then I saw all these old gates at the occasional sales and they seemed kind of nostalgic and kitschy. Anyone care to weigh in?

I've been in a creative slump lately. Big stuff isn't selling right now, and that's kind of what I'm in the mood to make. I've taken so much time off, no matter which way I go right now, I'll have to work my way back in. Work begets work. Fake it 'til you make it. It's like when you turn the hose on and it takes a while for the water to come out. The gates idea could be fun to fool with, but I sort of feel like making a big horse, or, stubbornly (hmm- moi?) more of those formidable female guardian figures that no one buys.

On the writing front-- a popular agent blogger did a post this week about how writers shouldn't self-identify as "writers", saying, "unless you're being paid, what you have is basically a hobby." It literally gave me a chest pain when I read that line. It felt very dismissive and like a slam.

But I have to say something has shifted in me lately. Not too long ago I told a few confidants that if nothing ever happened with the writing I would consider my whole life to be a failure. Talk about laying your cards on the table. I felt like through sheer force of will, and working my ass off at it, I could somehow "make" something happen. Cause some kind of universal wave form or something.

Call it selling-out, burn-out, or plain old battle fatigue, but now I've gone more into "if you're not enjoying yourself TODAY you're doing it wrong" mode. This is not to say I'm done writing. I do enjoy it, even when it gets consuming-- which it always does once I get into it, but I guess I feel like I've released it a bit. It's not the only yardstick by which I'll measure my life anymore.

I suppose this is healthy, even though part of me is reluctant to let that fighter part quit. I don't know. That doesn't seem right either, because I'm not quitting, and I'm not giving up, but I guess I feel guilty for letting some of my zealousness mellow-out about it.

Any writers out there read that post of Nathan's, or have any reaction about this?

Redistribution Of Math

Hey people. I super wanted a clip from that movie "Stranger than fiction" for today's post -- the one where Maggie Gylenhaal yells at Will Ferrell, "Get bent TAXMAAAAAN!" But alas, it was not to be had.

Anyone who doubts my claims that math is evil-- look no further. Behold this evidence, from my very own "receipts" file.

I know. Just look at these disjointed scribblings, these numbers. (Shudder.) Hubs shoved this in the file. I tell you he is trying to drive me incrementally insane. Ultimately neither of us had any idea what this represented. It gives me the creeps just to look at it. I just threw up a tiny bit.


Shake it off. Tax day is over for a whole 'nuther year. (Yes, I know 'nuther isn't a word. I'm a writer yo. But come on. People say it. It's liberating and bad, like 'aint. Get feisty-- nuthahhhh...)

Some of you may remember my drumming ambitions. I've been saving for drums for quite a while. I took a few lessons as one of my "out of the box" moves and it was really fun. The only thing about it was I felt a little disingenuous. I LOVE music, especially rock. The rock tempo usually matches a heartbeat. You feel your life force pounding away with the beat.

But I'm not one of those people who is "musical". I've never had that driving force inside compelling me to play an instrument. Being in a band sounds like a blast, but the drumming thing doesn't come from a musically creative space in me. It would just be a way to enhance my jamming out.

But theses look cool as hell don't they? Don't you just want to bang away?

Now that I've had a taste of the scary, thrilling fun of the mountain bike trail, my drum money is going to become bike money. Yep, talked to Dan, and I get to get a new bike! (Not becasue he is the boss of me, but because we talk about any big purchases either of us wants to make.)

Doesn't this look fun?

My real world life and my creative life are inextricably tangled. In my novel one character I really like is a drummer, another is this guy who has an adrenaline addiction. He uses thrills to constantly snap himself into what he calls the "right now", and teaches his daughter to do the same. Mountain biking feels very much like that. You are all the way there. Weirdly, that feeling reminds me of welding too. When you're doing it you're not thinking about too much else, although it's on a much calmer level. You're in the right now.

Hanging out in nature all by myself for hours was what led me back to my real self almost twelve years ago. It brought back memories of fort building, and tramping around in the woods and fields as a kid, discovering little hidden away spots, feeling adventurous and immortal, swinging from vines. The bike gives me another way to do that that the drums don't.

Now all I need is to find a little tribe of adventurers for me and Trusty Pam to hang with occasionally.

Bring It.

Hey people. After hearing from AgentCoolAssChicka last week I went into proof-reading-like-a-mofo mode. It’s all I did between approx 7:30 p.m. Thurs. and 7:00 p.m. Fri. besides sleep a little. After sending my 85k word baby out into to world attached to emails saying variously, “I don’t expect you to get through this in 2 weeks, but I’ll take whatever feedback you can offer in that time frame” and “try not to make me suicidal” I promptly fell into a Girl Scout Cookie coma.

An online writery type pal (you know who you are O Evil One) posted a link about Samoas Fri and I became obsessed. They had to be obtained, and, in my fragile state, had to be consumed—all at once. I know, my AssFat almost laughed itself off. Can you say running like a mofo this week?


Now AgentCoolAssChicka is twitting about her 575 unread queries, and her 175 files of unread material and I once again feel like a needle in a haystack I haven’t even jumped into yet. Insecurity—it’s a bitch yo.

While I was finishing my little horse today I was thinking about how slim my chances at publication are, and how much time I was taking on such a small, probably not very expensive sculpture. A smart friend was observing the other day how this economy will weed out weaker businesses. Publishing people are talking all the time now about how no one’s buying anything, and people are getting laid off left and right. Art sales are down too.

I was more determined than ever to make the little horse as awesome as I could, no matter how long it took-- and I will keep ramming my head into the publication brick wall until either I get through, or my head is reduced to some kind of gross meat knob that will completely rule out future book jacket photos.

If you’re a creative pro, now isn’t the time to quit striving for extraordinary. Maybe only really special things will make it through the marketplace’s filter right now. Does that mean some crap won’t also get through, or, sadly, even some extraordinary things will be overlooked? No—But I for one am bringing my creative A-game.

If I wind-up never having anything else to show for it, I’ll be able to hold me head up knowing I didn’t quit, and I didn’t lame-out.

Have a good day people. Now-- caffeine, shaking it vigorously, welding a bit, running like a mofo, and more welding. Then, maybe skiing. But caffeine immediately-- stat! (blinks blearily)