Tattoos

A.D. and I are both fond of henna tattoos. To celebrate tattoo art, we decided that Alabaster should sport unique tattoos.
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From shoulder to shoulder, you can see the beginning of Alabaster's henna inspired tattoos. ScaryMary has promised to help with more body art for him. How to interpret nineteenth century fairy tales into twenty-first century art is always a challenge.
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In planning the beginning of his tattoo work, MiniRoses and I selected this pattern which would place a heart in the center of Alabaster's shoulder blades. In contemplating the design, I said, "But, no one will see it. It will always be covered; I have many jackets planned for him." MiniRoses replied, "That is not the point. She will see it. When he takes off his shirt, Orchid will see it. That is the point." I said, "Ohhhh."

Piggy Wiggy

It's all in the name. Even as a child, I knew that. And I didn't care. I wanted to go there anyway. I cared nothing about grocery stores then, and I still don't. But, PigglyWiggly you can get me to go into any day.
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A million years ago, when my mother would take us to visit my aunt in South Carolina, I couldn't wait to get there. I couldn't wait, because there was a PigglyWiggly in my Aunt's town and we would stop to get her presents of groceries. The sight of a 'piggywiggy' sign gets me all squiggly wiggly with delight.
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This road trip, as we stopped for the evening out side the extremely charming city of Charleston, my husband said, "Look, Cat. Piggy Wiggy." I said, "What?! Where??" He said, "Right next door to our hotel. Want to go?" I said, "We have to go. There's no way I would pass up Piggy Wiggy."
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In the Keys, we met a couple who were the best of Kentucky and Ohio combined. The wife said to me, "What is it with the grocery stores?" I said, "What do you mean?" She said, "They name them the strangest damn things." I said, "Like what?" She said, "Like 'Food Lion'. We stopped there. And what's that other one? The really strange one? 'Piggy Piggy' ?" I laughed and laughed.
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We decided that strange gets our vote. We made sure to eat breakfast outdoors in the quaint little Vaca Key restaurant that was highly recommended. It is appropriately named 'The Stuffed Pig'.

Sunset

As the sun sets on Vaca Key and calendar year 2007, we look back on our many accomplishments and forward in anticipation of what we have yet to achieve.

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The middle of January 2008 will see us in yet another competition, held on our own island out east. Of course, we hope that Orchid, our 'UFDC triple winner' diamond girl, will bring home yet another blue ribbon. Orchid and her silver caged nightingale go 'oriental' for the costume competition. For more information on the January 13th 2008 show, visit www.ufdc.org . If you require directions, email: info@cathycara.com .

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I leave you with a hint of what we have planned for 2008. As many of you know, he is our gift to Orchid. His name is Alabaster. You can see him in person at the January 13th show.

Chicken Little

Over the past decade, colorful fowl have become so proliferated in Key West that they have become an area icon.
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They are so used to tourists coming off the numerous cruise ships that they pose readily for the camera.

No Name Pub

Oft times my husband and I read at our round marble kitchen table in companionable silence. Every now and then, we come across something to share. Once in a while that shared something changes our lives.

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Several years ago, while reading a glossy slick extreme sports magazine targeted toward extreme mega males, my husband lights up like a thousand watt light bulb and says, "Cat! Listen to THIS! There's a bar in the United States, that's not really in the United States because it's on some island. The island has no name. The bar has no name. The streets to the bar have no name. No one knows where the bar is. If they do know, they won't tell you. Because if you ever find the bar, it's tradition to hang up a dollar bill with your name or a message on it to prove that you've been there. The bar is literally covered in dollar bills!" I said, "What?!" He said, "It's the hardest bar to find in the entire country. Now how cool is that? And, of course, it doesn't advertise." We made a pact to FIND THE BAR.

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And we did. We have the t-shirts to prove it.

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We figured out that the 'dollar bill bar', as we called it, was on one of the islands in the Conch Republic. "Conchs", the natives of the Republic, are notoriously tight-lipped about their islands' delights; the 'dollar bill bar' being one of them. When we asked about the bar, natives literally laughed in our faces. They said, "You'll never find that bar. People have lived here for years and not found that bar. No one finds that bar." We laughed back and said, "Oh, but we're not 'no one'. Or maybe we are. Because you said, "No One finds it." We will find that bar. We will. We're on a mission. We're on a quest. We drove two thousand miles with that bar as our objective. We absolutely will find that bar."

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After getting our t-shirts, we were wearing them proudly, when someone asked us, "Are you from here?" We said, "No. We're from our own island. Up north." We said, "Why?" They replied, "Because of your t-shirts. No one can find that bar. Absolutely no one. Locals can't find that bar. It's a legend." Established in 1936, it's been around a long time. We said, "Have you been there?" They said, "Nope. Can't find it." We said, "Keep looking. It's worth the trip and the food is even good. They throw pizza on an old board and feed it to you. The whole place is a gas. We loved it."

Rip Off

In an unconventional county which prides itself on cleverness and humor particularly with regard to naming conventions, we laughed and laughed when we encountered this little shop.

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We gave it our thumbs up for 'Best Name in the Keys'.

The Seven Mile Bridge

Photographed from below, in an attempt to capture infinity, the Seven Mile Bridge is an ubiquitous characteristic landmark of the Florida Keys. Bridging the waters of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf, it is glorious to traverse by automobile, wonderful to fish from, and delightful to walk.

The bridge on the right is the 'old bridge'. It was built between 1908 and 1912, and in use until 1935. Hurricane damage necessitated the construction of the 'new bridge'. The 'old bridge' is open to pedestrians, cyclists, fisherman and the like. It enables one to have the unique experience of wandering over two bright sunny miles out over the gently rippling cerulean ocean and observing large gray sharks, adorable green sea turtles, and gliding dappled manta rays along the way. The water is so clear, you can easily see the endless beds of coral.

For those who would rather ride than walk, there is a nifty red tourist train which regularly drives back and forth on the 'old bridge'.

Sh*t

It's Christmas. This year, it isn't white, but some good things never change. Like the humor. Along with cheer, our humor is high.
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As Santa's cookies are baking, I'm taking a moment to share with you something which is causing us to laugh and laugh.
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While perusing a local publication from the Florida Keys the other day, my husband burst out laughing and said, "Cat, did you read this?" I said, "No. I hadn't gotten to it yet." He said, "Okay. You'll never believe it. I'll read it to you. It's about shit." I said, "What?! In the public paper?" He said, "Listen. It's great. And we mustn't lose it. Are you ready?"

Verbatim from the Florida Keys monthly publication, a dining and entertainment guide, Time Out Magazine is the following:

"The Most Functional English Word
Well, it's SHIT... that's right, SHIT! You can SMOKE shit, BUY shit, SELL shit, LOSE shit, FIND shit, FORGET shit, and tell others to EAT shit! Some people know their shit, while others can't TELL THE DIFFERENCE between shit and SHINEOLA! There are DUMB shits, LUCKY shits and CRAZY SHITS! There is BULLSHIT, HORSE shit and CHICKEN shit! You can THROW shit, SLING shit, CATCH shit, SHOOT the shit, or duck when the shit HITS THE FAN! You can GIVE a shit or serve SHIT ON A SHINGLE! You can find yourself in DEEP shit or be happier than a PIG IN SHIT! Some days are colder than shit, some hotter than shit and some just plain SHITTY! Some music SOUNDS like shit, things can LOOK LIKE SHIT, and there are times when you FEEL LIKE shit! You can have TOO MUCH shit, not ENOUGH shit, the RIGHT shit, the WRONG shit or a lot of WEIRD shit! You can CARRY shit, have a MOUNTAIN of shit or find yourself UP SHIT CREEK WITHOUT A PADDLE! Sometimes everything you touch TURNS TO shit and other times you FALL in a bucket of shit and come out smelling like a ROSE! When you stop to consider all the facts, it's the basic building block of the English language. And remember, once you KNOW YOUR SHIT, you don't need to know anything else!! WELL, SHIT, IT'S TIME FOR ME TO GO. JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT I GIVE A SHIT and hope you have a nice day, without a BUNCH OF SHIT! But, if you happened to catch a LOAD of shit from some SHITHEAD ... WELL, SHIT HAPPENS!!!"

A Merry Christmas to all. And to all, a Good Night.

Babel Effect

A fast moving thinking person's thriller, The Babel Effect explores evil and goodness from a neurological and genetic standpoint.
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"Is violence a virus? Can your genes make you a killer? Why are we so willing to hurt each other? .. Combining systems theory with modern epidemiology, they soon realize that our propensity for violence resembles a contagious disease. But is the human carnage of the last hundred years an ancient plague or a new nightmare? Can they identify the cause and find a cure? ... they realize that finding the answers depends on a still more urgent and terrifying question: Can they survive the search?"

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Providing a modern plausible reason for man's inhumanity, it is a too convincing tale where the inescapable horror may lie within.

The Season is Ripe

TheRipeArtGal and I got together and created fun, fabulous, festive windows for the Gallery's December celebration. For December through the first week in January, the Gallery will feature work by the very talented members of the Long Island Craft Guild, www.licg.org. Everyone is invited to the holiday party planned for the afternoon of December 9th where you can peruse the great art, meet the delightful artists, and be fortunate to acquire some lovely one of a kind gifts. You also get to eat snacks, so how can you not want to stop by?
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Window is holding formal court for the holidays in one gallery window, while Lila in her snow princess finery is busy greeting guests in the other. Window and Lila are collaborative pieces that I worked on with A.D. Puchalski and Laura Galbraith, respectively. Window and Lila are both fully jointed fine art sculptures. Each is one of a kind. To see more of A.D.'s work, visit: www.angeldevilland.com. Rabbit lovers take heed: some of A.D.'s work is available for purchase at the Ripe Art Gallery. If you stop by the Gallery, you might remember to ask to see the pieces. Like A.D., Laura is also a highly skilled graphic artist. To experience some of Laura's work check out: www.lauragalbraith.com .
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French beaded flowers lovers take note: a selection of 'doll-sized' beaded flower bouquets as well as 'people-sized' beaded candy canes were made by Jeanne for the Gallery. Jeanne's bead work is incredible. Not cheap, but amazingly lovely.
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If you want cheap, take home a flamingo.
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For more information on the Gallery visit: www.ripeartgal.com .

Spilt Milk

Actually, it is exquisitely shattered glass.

My husband conscientiously decided to trim the ivy tendrils on the back patio. The gas powered weed whacker that he is so enamoured of must have caught a small pebble. In a nanosecond, our five foot thermal paned Pella window panel in the kitchen looked like this.

It is perfect for the holiday season and it happens to be breathtakingly beautiful.

Gratitude Attitude

Deciding to do something unusual this Thanksgiving, we joined a surprising number of other townsfolk who had the same idea, and headed over to a stately local mansion to enjoy the bounty of nature's munificence and the welcome gift of unseasonably warm weather.

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The elegant Marshall Field Estate is located on a tiny isolated spit of land in our neighborhood called Lloyds Neck. On the cusp of Lloyd Harbor, it calls an ungodly amount of rolling green acres its own; containing a still working equine stables, a once functioning dairy farm, a restored red brick high walled secret garden, destroyed decayed and shattered greenhouses, an enormous Winter Cottage, a equally huge Summer Cottage, and all manner of servants' quarters housing that I always lust to live in. All of this is in addition to the main brick Mansion itself which proudly overlooks the Sound to Connecticut beyond.

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Our five mile walk began at the large white New England style dairy farm and took us through extraordinarily colorful lush fragrant woodlands redolant of salt and fallen leaves, past the main Mansion, all the way to the gently lapping waters of the Sound. We completely enjoyed encountering all manner of wildlife including a threateningly vigilant rather large hawk. We were grateful that we were not on his menu for Thanksgiving dinner.

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It was a picture perfect day. What is that first picture you ask? Why, that is the very soft nose of the very large horse who came over to kiss me.

Plump Comfort

Days are darkening ever earlier. The moon glows coldly in the night sky. Winter is coming.

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Curl by the flickering fireplace, nestled in your favorite chair, let your hand rest lightly upon this book. As it snows, pick it up. Begin.

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A Gothic book lover's book in the style of "Jane Eyre" and "Wuthering Heights", it starts deliciously set in an old bookshop and I found myself lost amidst images of dusty volumes begging to be lovingly perused and gently opened, agreeing wholeheartedly as I read,

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"I've nothing against people who love the truth. Apart from the fact that they make dull companions. Just so long as they don't start on about storytelling and honesty, the way some of them do. Naturally, that annoys me. But provided they leave me alone, I won't hate them. My gripe is not with lovers of the truth but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney? When the lightening strikes shadows in the bedroom wall and the rain taps at the window with its long fingernails? No. When fear and cold make a statue of you in your bed, don't expect hard-boned and fleshless truth to come running to your aid. What you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safety of a lie."

A Good Ambassador

At the show, as ScaryMary and I wandered, her eyes would widen and her smile would brighten. I said, "I'll make sure to show you the book that I have. You will love it."
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Oddly entitled, "Who Won Second Place at Omaha?" it was written by Diane Kagan and Meryl Joseph. A kind and thoughtful rare book dealer believed that it would make an appropriate addition to my eclectic library; so he saved it for me.
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Here it is. You can click to enlarge the image.
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The text reads, "Not visible to the naked ear. I have the most extraordinary ear - I can hear sounds that are not visible to the naked ear. I hear whispers that are meant for another world: hisses, squeals, kissing and dark laughter. My ear is cultivated to such a degree that I see sounds and listen with my eyes instead. this is necessary in my house, which is shared with so many others from all walks of life and places on earth. I have developed perceptions that stand me in good stead when it comes to maintaining order- which is not always easy here. On occasion chaos had occurred. At those times one must be highly skilled and experienced in diplomatic relations. I've often thought I'd make a good ambassador to the world of the less-than-human but more-than-inanimate creatures. "

Polly

I get a call this morning from someone who was not able to attend the show. Through ripples of laughter, I was told that flamingos might try to escape by flying north, but that they will never be able to escape east coast doll people. "You don't mess with doll people!" I was admonished. "No, I wouldn't dream of it" I said.

Then I was asked, "And WHAT was that scary thing that you had on your shoulder??" I said, "Polly? You've never met Polly?" She said that no, she had never ever seen anything scary on my shoulder and that it was so scary and the person was so frightened that she couldn't even describe it. My caller said, "Is it a dragonfly?" I said, "Oh lord, good heavens, no. Certainly nothing like a dragonfly."

Polly is huge. Polly is approximately six inches long and five inches high. Polly has pokey little legs to perch properly on one's shoulder. Polly is a fine art sculpture created by Richard, a professional artist who lives in a multitude of acres in upstate New York. He is not to be confused with island resident Richard Gardner, who produced "Bebe": the photographic exhibition of my work and that with A.D. People who missed yesterday's show, and who would like to see Window, can visit http://www.richardgardnerphotography.com/ . The Richard who created Polly has a degree in Fine Arts and produces sculpture for a living. Last I spoke to him, his work is not online and is available only through shows and galleries.
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As the physical incarnation of Richard's muse, Polly is extremely special. Richard is a Vietnam vet who came back safely and began to make Polly to share his good fortune with others. Others, who are typically artists and art lovers. Polly is discussed often and the consensus is: only someone with the heart and soul of an artist can appreciate Polly and wear Polly with the love and pride that Polly deserves. Polly often accompanies me to my rare public appearances at shows or exhibitions and immediately identifies me as a member of the fine arts community to others of that same community. Outsiders are alternatively intrigued or appalled, attracted or repulsed. Polly wards off 'normal' people nicely.
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When Richard came back from Vietnam, he attributed his homecoming to the angel that sat on his shoulder. This angel, he said, never left his side for the entire war. He is grateful that this angel brought him home to do his art. He named the angel Polly, because of the parrots that sat on pirates' shoulders while they were at sea.
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Like a parrot, as an angel, Polly has wings. Polly is a Spark Bug; out of Polly's butt is a spark plug. Polly's snout is a doll hand, with the little finger pointing. The spark of creativity comes from its butt and shoots out its snout, just like in the Michelangelo painting. Polly's eyes are red glass and Richard's wife would not let him make them light up. Polly's wings make the sound of helicopter blades flying over 'nam. Helicopters meant food and rescue; their blades a welcome sound.
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Richard also makes Pollys big enough to put on the roof of your house, in case you'd like big time protection. All Pollys are one of a kind and completely different. But, like the finest art that they are, all are recognizable Pollys. And, just when you thought that all of this is more information than you ever could want to know about how wonderful and how incredible and how special Polly is, the story of Polly gets even better.
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There is a heart painted upon each Polly's back. Polly comes in two sexes. You can choose whether you would like a male Polly or whether you would prefer a female Polly. My Polly is a "well balanced male". And how, do you tell the difference? Everyone asks. Well, female Pollys have heart. Males have a heart on.
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Eye of the Beholder

These are the Flamingo show photographs for anyone who might have missed the show or for anyone who would like to relive the experience.
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Orchid lovers gathered for lunch and laughed and laughed. We gathered again for dinner, continued the party, and laughed and laughed some more. Fans know they get special treats. One of the things that we laughed over was that someone actually stole one of the things that I made as a 'giveaway' item.
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Strolling through the show together, ScaryMary and I agreed that we like Kewpies; Kewpies are good. My mother always said that I looked exactly like a Kewpie when I was born. Now, isn't that wonderful?
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Anyone who missed Window at the show can visit her this upcoming holiday season at Ripe Gallery, http://www.ripeartgal.com/ . The RipeArtGal will also be carrying Jeanne's exquisite doll sized French Beaded Flower Bouquets.
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As you can see, at this show there was something for everyone. For those who look closely, you will see you could even get a little head.

Doll Toy Memorabilia Show

And sale. This Sunday, November 18th, on the South Shore of the island. Eleven in the morning until four o'clock in the afternoon. The location is north of Sunrise. If you are planning to go, double check the location, because over the year it has changed.

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The rumors are true; I have agreed to participate in the show. Window will be on display before she goes off to the gallery for the Christmas season. I expect Jeanne to be available with doll sized bouquets of French beaded flowers.

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This is also a good time to use the flamingo photo to tell you that we are planning, amongst the other fairy tales that are begging to be done, "Alice in Wonderland". Available after April 2008, "Alice" will be another collaborative piece who will be near and dear to our hearts. Doing "Alice" also allows us to present lots of rabbits. So, you can look forward to Alice, and rabbits, and flamingos for April 2008. Among other things.

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If you love dolls, toys, the quaint or the ridiculous, please make our day and stop by to say hello. The quaint and the ridiculous is what I plan to bring to the show.

New Shoes for Orchid

We took a chance. A.D. and I decided to do the "you have to be in it to win it" thing: we decided to go for several pairs of shoes that were being sold at a steep discount. The catch being that you bought multiple pairs sight unseen.
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We decided that we lucked out. Out of nine pairs, only two were 'iffy'. Even those there is absolutely nothing wrong with other than our personal taste.
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Orchid gets to keep one new pair of wonderful boots and the darling pink pumps in the photograph. We were discussing the difference between her new boots and her 'old' ones. The old ones are in the photograph. They are entirely different from the new ones. Due to the angle of the picture, it is difficult to see that the old boots are almost twice as tall as the new boots. They also have chains up the front whereas the new ones lace.
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Orchid will be not have a break until the middle of January. A.D. and I decided that for such a hard working girl, she should have some great presents. What girl doesn't love shoes?

He Talks

When people call, they too often say, "Oh, I hear your cat." Or worse, "What are you doing to the cat?" You've heard his voice. This is what he looks like.
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People who don't know him, who have never met him, who have never heard him, say, "Oh, he talks. He says, 'Meow'. That's nice." Those who have heard him, know that he doesn't say, "Meow". "Meow" is probably not in his vocabulary.
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When he speaks, he enunciates in complete sentences creating fully composed paragraphs expounding upon specific ideas. Worse yet, his verbose dissertations require a response. If you try to ignore him, he speaks louder and more insistently, and will begin to stamp his feet in frustration. Or, worse yet, he will climb on the marble table and become eye level in order to talk in your face. He is candy sweet, he is furball lovable, and he talks. Big time.
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What he actually sounds like is a lost dialect of Chinese. If someone had ever asked us whether we would have liked a 'talking cat' we would have replied emphatically, "Oh, yes! Please!!"
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He also does other bad things. He steals pincushions and he sucks on Orchid's underwear.
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Do not ever wish for a talking cat.

Orchid's Surprise

Actually, Orchid already knows what the 'surprise' is. It's now about everyone else being surprised.

This photo was taken specifically for CasaBlanca, who simply begged and begged, ever so sweetly, for a peek at what we are working on. Well, as you can see, our collaborative exhibition show piece for 2008 is still under wraps. This is all anyone who is not working on the piece will see until this upcoming January.

Fully jointed; possessing thirteen points of articulation. So finely crafted that the piece will stand without any support, A.D. has again produced another magnificent one-of-a-kind sculpt.

Rika Imma

There are those who accurately perceive the pervasive Japanese influence in the work of A.D. and the more subtle but ever present love of the oriental presented in my own. For those who share our interest in twenty-first century fine art figure making, I offer you the following excursion down the rabbit hole: http://imago.xrea.jp/studio.php

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The site is that of Japanese bisque artist Rika Imma. Enjoy her lovely site and then follow the links that she offers for maximum pleasure. Set aside an entire evening, dim the lights, have your tea ready, because you are sure to get lost in Wonderland.

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I remind you that our figures are neither bisque, nor porcelain; we use a variety of clays. However, if you love what we do, you should certainly enjoy what Rika Imma has to show you. Eerie. Haunting. Not for the faint of heart. Gloriously ghostly. Curiously alive.

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To give you a hint, I have taken a photograph of Shimizu's work. Shimizu works in clay, as do we. If any of the links take you to her, you will have found an artist whom we believe to be an extra special Japanese treasure. She is a kindred spirit on the other side of the world.

Starry Starry Night

ScaryMary thought this was wonderful. I agreed. VanGogh has been one of my favorites since childhood.
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If you love VanGogh, as we do, visit http://www.flashdemo.net/gallery/show.aspx?id=43 when you would like to take a break for a couple of minutes. Sound is a bonus, but not required.

Cooler Than a Moose

Could there be such a thing? You've heard the expression, right? "As cool as a moose." This moose is very cool and he's been around a long time.

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Heading west, out of our neighborhood, 106/107 to 25 to 25B, past the little cobblestone church with the glorious stained glass window, over the rail road tracks, and across from PeterAndrew's is a small red brick restaurant pub with flower boxes and green awnings. An island land mark that has been a mainstay since the mid-1970's, the establishment has recently changed hands.

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Over the years, there have been several owners. All have managed to maintain the menu for which they have paid dearly and have kept some semblance of the original quality. Not this time. Unless it changes hands again, don't go; not good.

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The only good thing that's still the same is the moose.

The Society of S

Let us rejoice
While we are young.
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Exploring immortality, family, choices and values. Reminiscent of the underground best seller The Lovely Bones , as well as Alice Hoffman's Practical Magic, The Society of S appears destined for years of enjoyment as well as a sequel.
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The first photograph lends a clue to subject matter. Don't be afraid to read the book; it's far more wonderful than it is scary.
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Actually, the 'Teddie' in the photograph is scarier than the book. I created him from vintage real fur.