I had a wonderful time at Flare yesterday. Special thanks to the Rubber City Rollergirls for pulling off a great event, and thank you to all who came out! I sold quite a few pieces at the show, but I still have plenty of good stuff left. For those who couldn't make it to the show, I'll be working hard on getting everything listed for sale online again in the next few days.
My next show will be at Oddmall, May 5, 2012. But please keep me in mind for any shows or events until then. I'd love to do a few over the winter!
And... For those of you in the Akron area, stay tuned. I'm also working on a couple big surprises for you :)
"What made you start mutilating dolls?" That's a question I get asked a lot. I'm not really sure of the answer, but I have a couple ideas.
Doing shows in the real world and networking online has enabled me to get to know other creepy creatives and collectors from all over the planet. The more creepy doll enthusiasts I meet, the more evident a common thread becomes. Most of us have a childhood doll story that shaped (twisted?) us in some way. I have also noticed that most of us don't even realize we have a story until we hear someone else talking about theirs. I've heard a lot of "Me too!" Always makes me giggle.
Personally, my first traumatic doll experience was when I was five years old and received "Baby Alive" as a Christmas gift. At first I was so thrilled! I had been asking for her for months. Oh, those wonderful commercials between Saturday morning cartoons made her look absolutely wondrous! She ate and drank and you could even change her diapers! The commercial forgot to touch on the fact that the diaper would be full of whatever you fed her, and the cereal packets provided pretty much already resembled baby poop to begin with. As an extra bonus, if you got it in your little five year old brain that it would be a good idea to fill her bottle with real milk instead of water, you would eventually experience a smell that you would remember at least until your forties. It takes a lot to gross out a kindergartner, but that was my first experience with utter disgust and revulsion. "Baby Alive" spent the rest of her life fermenting in the bottom of my closet somewhere. After that, I stuck to Barbies. Until...
When I was eleven or twelve, I decided my life's calling was to become a ventriloquist. Turns out, I sucked at magic tricks, juggling, and plate-spinning, so I figured this might just be my last shot at fame. I can't remember the exact dummy I received that year for Christmas, but I do remember the sinking disappointment I felt when I unwrapped the box and saw that it was a hobo. Thinking about it now, it may have been an Emmit Kelly. I had no idea who Emmit Kelly was then and, in any case, I was hoping for something a bit more glamorous like Phyllis Diller's Madame. But I decided to give it a go. And then this happened:
OK, admittedly it didn't happen to me, but I wasn't taking any chances. Immediately after seeing that movie, I stashed the thing in my closet and waited impatiently for Trash Day when I stealthily stuffed the demon doll into the bottom of a bag where no one would see it and question why I was throwing away what I'm sure was a very pricey gift in those days. After that, I spent more than a few sleepless nights expecting a tiny vengeful and very angry hobo to appear, covered in garbage and standing in my doorway. Luckily it never happened.
I also have the added bonus of spending the night in a relative's "doll room" with dozens of prying, glassy eyes staring at me while I was expected to sleep. But I'll save that story for another day. Funny how those little things stick with us through the years.
I'm so excited people are starting to join and have an interest in my creepy creations and demented drivel! Thank you so much!
If you're here for the first time, it's come to my attention that some people are having trouble finding where to join on their phone browsers. On the left side, under my picture there is a box marked "Followers". Click the blue link that says "Join This Site". This is different from clicking the subscribe link at the bottom of the page. Subscribing doesn't make you a member. I wish it wasn't so confusing, but it's not up to me.
You don't have to join, but only members can comment. To avoid any uh... unnecessary unpleasantness and/or spammy shit, comments will be approved before they go public. But feel free to be yourselves, I'm not trying to censor anyone!
Thanks again for stopping by.
Have a creeptacular day! (I really need to figure out how to add that word to my spell check...)
I've finally joined the minions and started a blog. I'm not ashamed to admit I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, but it just might be fun to see what the drippings of my brain evolve into.
As of this moment, the plan is to post updates on new artwork and shows mixed with spatterings of whatever other bizarre things pop into my head.
Most of my artwork is disturbing and I have a foul mouth. I make no apologies.
