I’ve always found that writing-like creating something with my hands-helps to exercise the demons…
I’ve been working on this particular piece of writing off & on the last month or so. It’s funny, one never knows when their work is truly finished….
It is the 4th of July 
I believe in America I believe in democracy I believe man’s hubris is capable of darkening the stars
I believe in empathy & kindness 
I believe in the power of perseverance when driven by love I will never give up on “WE THE PEOPLE”
This cryptid sculpt is the Loveland Frogman. I created collages of a few cryptid/creature illustrations for the UFO Fair (loads of outrageous fun- JUNE 7th – Pine Bush, NY).
My husband, Keith, requested the Frogman collage (orange bkgd painting shown) to hang over his desk. Now, as I’ve crashed into sculpting, he requested a Frogman sculpt to live as a silent desk-partner. I’m glad he asked for this critter. The Frogman was great fun to make.
Have a wonderful weekend
I hope you’re managing through the madness.
For those who celebrate the day – Hoppy Easter
!
This is Barney. He was created with 25 lbs of air dry clay. This is my third creature sculpt – and to-date I’ve learned 1,000 ways how not to sculpt. Working toward 1,000 more…
How I wish I could waken him and send him to D.C. – Barney enjoys eating orange men whose chests beat with dark hearts…
‘Tis true – we dwell in a ufo-embracing town – the kind that breathes Halloween – aliens, creatures, princesses and all – in every deliciously macabre direction
Armed with 3,000 pieces of candy, we’re ready for the costumed onslaught.
Happy Halloween
Be safe
Be smart
and remember – over-sugaring doesn’t make us sweet;)
kindness comes from within
am:)
(featured above – my little pumpkin kid – a great dancer who can pirouette atop any pumpkin)
Sir Top Hat walked in a few years ago – an honest and kind critter with a passion for memorizing the storied history of Abe Lincoln.
Sir Top Hat only surfaces above the earth during the month of October, and then, only when honesty is severely lacking.
am:)
These days I don’t get around to WP as often as I should, but it’s not for lack of desire. I’ve been spending the bulk of my creative time, offline, repurposing my cryptids and creatures. Additionally, I’ve been sketching, painting, barrelling through my menagerie of books and listening to history podcasts on my way to the gym. I’ve discovered, since reteaching myself history, not much has changed, yet everything has. And each day, after reading the news, I return to my quiet, non-territorial creatures who live, accept and love more honestly than mankind.
Art above – (Front of a blank card) I’ve been creating bookmarks, blank cards and good old-fashion postcards (remember those). Using the designer-light program, Canva, I merge my art with manipulated backgrounds then download the files for printing. I hope to bring these printed items to local shops, and I plan on selling them at the next enormous UFO Fair, June ’25.
I hope you’re all doing okay.
am
just stepped up the little stairs to reach his steering wheel. This vehicle is not required for his line of work. My studio, a converted porch, faces his yellow house, his big truck. My home, rising during the Great Depression, has withstood many assaults over time. Her old bones don’t deserve to be rattled.
The sky is bright, the birds are singing, and every morning the man across the street shatters this peaceful illusion. His truck’s reverb frazzles the neighborhood, echoes through my chest. Maybe the man across the street needs the sleepy world agitated at 5:45 AM, maybe tremors make his shadow grow.
If someday he should acknowledge the next phase of life, I pray he doesn’t buy a bigger truck. I don’t want to become another person in this burning world who adds more noise to the hate. I dislike the man across the street. I do not hate him. I will admit, however, to hating his fucking truck.
I painted this a few months ago. Reference taken from a photo of Chris Lee as Dracula. Thought this image was somewhat fitting for this piece:)
I hope you’re all keeping cool.
am:)
In 1975 and for many years afterward, I wanted nothing more than to look and sing like Bobbie Gentry, and emulate Carl Kolchak, the mildly insane journalist, who investigated supernatural crimes while wearing a goofy smile and a slanted straw hat.
Today, I continue to play my favorite Gentry album Ode to Billy Joe while the guitar sitting in the corner of my studio listens along. And I strive to pile my hair higher than is normal.
As for becoming a boots-on-the-ground monster-chasing reporter, I daily arm myself with art supplies to track down creatures, and I type prose on a typewriter keyboard. The wide-brimmed straw hat resting on a pile of books in my studio sees action when the sun is out.
Maybe, I did become who I wanted to be all along. Maybe…
Pencil sketch of Bobbie Gentry done about two months ago. I continue to use a giant Ticonderoga pencil. I’m not allowing myself to get into details using sharpened points and varieties of leads in the hopes of focusing on shape and form.
I’ve not done much writing these last few months. I’ve been madly creating monster collage mini-paintings like Shunka Warakin (below) for the upcoming UFO Fair in Pine Bush, NY. Such fun:)
I hope you are all doing well.
am:)
Since the annual UFO Fair this past June, I’ve turned myself into a mad monster merchant selling all measure of cryptid ilk. Yup, I designed prints, magnets, stickers, cards with mugs and totes waiting beneath Mothman’s wings. As a participating vendor at the Alien Fair, I’d passed up several opportunities to sell original artwork which I’d been using expressly as background decor (I’ve always had a difficult time parting with my original art). For this harvest festival, I turned some of my original paintings into 11 x 14 prints. Well, weeks of spending money to make money finally arrived on October 16 and it did not disappoint.
My monetary goal at these events has been, at the very least, to make the vendor fee back. I’ve been pleasantly surprised to have leapt a few monsterish bounds beyond my goal each time. More importantly, I’ve overcome my trepidation of being on the other side of the vendor experience. I remember well the feeling of ‘shame’ when passing by merchants, some alone beneath their canopies, all those years ago at the flea markets and fairs when I wasn’t interested in shopping their wares.
No matter how many calendars or daily planners we mark off, we never cease learning about ourselves. I never imagined that after all those visits to outdoor flea markets, festivals and fairs with my husband and children, that I’d become a seasonal vendor who can handle getting sheepishly or brazenly passed by when my creative work isn’t appreciated or wanted. Though I’ll never understand why some people refuse to find a soft spot for critters with massive fangs, killer claws and bloodlust in their veins;), I’ll continue merrily along my quest of meeting festival folks and chatting up creatures or the weather or the strange light fair-goers might have seen that disappeared into an inky night sky.
When the world gets cold, our experiences and memories are often the things that warm us with their Bigfoot feet and Yeti breath.
I hope you are all doing well.
xo
am
P.S. I must thank my husband, Keith, who sacrifices his only day off during the week for these events. He is also kind (and wise enough) to buy his insane wife morning ‘pre-vending’ bloody marys:)
anntogether 