my crayon box

hmm, this might be sixth grade-don’t miss the snap tie and blue knee socks
awhile back I wrote about my childhood crayon thievery – if you’d like to read just tap the magic red here 😊

a ‘Primarily Red’ turquoise hairband

Thrilled to have my painting ‘hairband’ displayed along with other beautiful works as part of Emerge Gallery’s Primar(il)y Red Exhibit!
(also honored to have ‘hairband’ (in upper right above) featured in announcement)
It goes without saying, if you’re ever near Saugerties, NY – visit. Both Emerge and Saugerties are enchanting. You won’t be disappointed😘

blackest days

school right around the corner, time doesn’t fly it rockets
I’ve been altering colored photos of my children when they were younger and appeared more innocent😉
I enjoy stepping away from pencil and pen once in awhile and pretend I’m a photographer

Phantasms of Fantasy

she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
loved ones reinforce
and echo friendly books
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
into dollhouse she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
learned now
she reminds herself
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
buck fifty headline – RAMPAGE
closet monstermonsters
are not of this world
she is learned
she reminds herself

May you dream of safety for all the world’s children.

Photo of delicate daughter taken 14 years ago in her most favorite house, monster on black sketched on printer paper while subbing yesterday, marker added at home.

Hello Dollies, Please Don’t Hurt Us

My Friends,
This blog of mine has been through several iterations. While returning from a self-hosted site back to WordPress, many older posts were lost in translation. I’m going to use Sunday evenings to rework, repair and repost some of my favorite 2014 efforts. I hope you don’t mind blogging down Memory Lane with me. If you haven’t read before, I hope you enjoy.
Thank you,
The ‘Annagement’
 (sorry couldn’t resist)

Hello Dollies, Please Don’t Hurt Us
(originally posted 4/15/14)

Returning home from a lovely garden journey, the giant husband and I happened upon an old-timer’s flea market. A pair of cigarette-smoking, timeworn vendors stood outside like cement lions. They wore pensive smiles while observing curious browsers.

The market’s outdoor portion consisted of a few makeshift tables loaded with lopsided frames, 1950’s tools, hat boxes… The indoor portion was housed in a dilapidated and dank-smelling barn that had seen better days. The giant husband and I strapped on our big-boy coveralls and entered the jittery building.

Beside the usual flea market fare of old records, fringed lamps, mildewed books, chipped dinnerware and broken Tonka toys there were boxes of dead dolls. I can’t think of anything more blood-curdling than little plastic people. Dolls used to scare the crap out of me when I was a kid, now they were back to haunt me.

These dolls were broken-hearted. Their tiny scratched lips whispered how long they’d lived without a warm embrace.
solo dollThey’d been abandoned then forgotten…
solo dollThe dolls choked on satin visages of yesteryear. Long ago, they’d been precious…
headEyes once marble-bright were now marred dull like the fabric tears of stuffed clowns…
clownThe giant husband and I had to look away from the pained grimaces.
wrestlerBut the most frightening thing of all was when a little sinister man-doll attempted to steal the giant husband’s soul…
bpThank you. May you dream of happy dolls in warm homes.
All photos taken in April 2014 with iPhone. I’ve made it a personal goal to attempt art for every post, some earlier posts in 2014 have only photos.