bit by bit

Crash Poppet

Jordan (yes, the Jordan)

and Aubrey (yes, the Aubrey)

photo by Mimi Ko

Zoya's world

Poppet's sometimes earn hazard pay.

Drift

Lapse.

Time does.

I think of light as a magician, changing worlds and dust motes with equal grace and gravity.

I think of time as a trickster.

I don't know what to write you, exactly.

I'm in a flux here, between this and that.

So I'll say that your artist is in a large sort of and difficult sort of transition between, well,

this and that.

What I've learned, so far, is that being between this and that can be very, very hard.

And that sometimes a week can seem like one very long day.

If you're waiting for art and concerned, please don't hesitate to write to Angie at the harlikn7@aol.com address. If I owe you correspondence, please send me a reminder.

We're catching things up.

Children are playing in this house.

Good meals are being prepared. Friends are telling stories.

There's every reason to believe this reality will work itself out in the art.

So. I'm thinking that's the direction I'll head toward now.

Thank you for being here. Really, really.

g'night

Jumping Off

You may think I've gone away.

I have not.

MimiKo is here, to capture Blink in a light that shows his true colors.

As for me. I'm

making things that seem to be toys at first, but

are not.

Today we took turns jumping off the roof into the water. It seems a long way from up there.

Sometimes the desert is bigger inside than out.

Blink Habitual has a soft switch underneath that sets up an array of lights that play over the hand underneath, making it seem a wholly different thing than the one we see in the light.

For the VCon Program book cover image, Spencer and I built a small, sort of mad laboratory for even madder Poppets.

Poppets with tools and skill.

We took lots of photos along the way to show at the convention. (We missed MimiKo. We must build a set when she's here too.)

After, I'll post the shots here,.

The set and photo shoot took about 14 hours. We were tired, but the work was good.

Sometimes it's the habitual things that hang us.

It's the anti summer. We're working through it, sort of. It comes out in the work, mostly.

Take care out there.

Very Early Tuesday Morning

Fallout is hell.

Your artist is making toys.

Again.

Phase Shift

I seem to be experiencing a protracted moment of clarity.

Always dangerous, that one.

A whine, a click and a gear is shifted, a rhythm permanently altered.

So that the world looks much the same, but underneath is a changed machine with a strange new resonance.

Honestly, I'm a little afraid.

too much for words

Yesterday was hot and close and humid. Today was mostly the same. Tonight is cooler, with lightning and wind. My plan to get to sleep early went away in bits as one task led itself to another.

We swam at midnight, Aubrey and I, under darkly luminous clouds with occasional flashes. We made up scenarios to creep each other out. Over the years, we've become very adept at this game. I can only imagine how our half whispered horrors might sound to the uninitiated, or how mad our delight in them.


I'm too much in my thoughts these days, with less to say than I wish. Some days are better spent letting information in. Quiet. Listen. Process. Inhale. Exhale.

Like the tide. It's coming around again.

Poppets Are Always Watching

Well, at least we've got this going.

Here's our first Poppet t shirt!

Sweet in front, evil on the back.

We're pretty excited.

We have different sizes in the ebay store.

These are ladies' shirts, but not to worry, more will be coming.

New work is coming. But today is for lots of water. It's hot in this desert.

---later

not a word about inflatibles

It seems to me now that many stories in my own experience have been reduced to a very strange sort of alphabet.

There are perfect moments.

Some people don't believe these sorts of moments exist. Others do believe, and spend their time and energies and money trying to find or create them. A few have experienced these moments and seek to understand them. And a very small few have learned to create them at will.

You may have met one of those individuals. Think back. Did you? Did you feel some sort of twinge when you passed them on the bus, or in line? Make eye contact? Feel like crying for no reason?

nah. Neither have I. And I've not a shred of evidence for any of it. But I'll have to say I belong to the third group.

Possibly it's the heat. I really don't know how human beings stay sane in this place. I'm not exactly sure why I'm still here.

And then there was the 4th. Another 4th. Did I think about America? Yeah, briefly. They weren't great thoughts, but very nearly hopeful. It was a good day for me, though still, as holidays are, it was another. Did you have a good 4th? Did you think about America? Did you wonder what took you from the last 4th to this one?

Where was I last year? I wonder. And now, what is?


Mostly, it's going to be about working these things out, somehow, in the language these experiences have become.

I'll show you. Sometime.

Holding Things Together

This studio employs CA for projects. Cyanoacrylate, as most makers know, is the best adhesive out there for most projects. There's an art to using it properly. There's no repositioning once the process starts.

The spell is easily broken.

It requires sitting motionless for a full three minutes.

Sounds easy to anyone who hasn't done it.

Sometimes this Poppet Planet hydra I've created overwhelms me. It happens. It's not always apparent from the outside, so mostly goes unnoticed.

But once in a while, it's very, very difficult. So many choices to make, so many voices, so many distractions, so little time to work things out.

And then there are the larger questions at the edges.

Whether. Whether this or that.

Weather. Mental tornado inside, blinding light outside.

I hold two tiny parts together, waiting for the magic chemistry I can't see, but have learned to trust. I wait. I breathe. I clear my mind.

Three minutes.

I am sane. The glue holds. So far.

If I still feel like crying after the three minutes, a bit of perspective helps.

Little Black Poppets

Little Black Poppets

are back...

sort of.

A little more edge,

for Anti Summer.

We're so engrossed in studio work it's not terribly hard to ignore the sun's hammer. Until we go outside.

Multiple projects, multiple media. We're under the gun to finish Pete's costume for High Sierra, his No-I-am-Not-a-Cop, bizarro, mystical weirdness that includes a top hat arrayed with LED strangeness.

Photos will emerge eventually, no doubt.

We swim mostly at night now. I can't help thinking about how weird it gets here in the thick of summer. There must be some cool story that would fit such a strange setting. Anyone want to take that one on? I'll be happy to consult on Palm Springs life in summer.

gotta go. Little Black Poppets. Brains. Lights. Sounds. Motion.

We're all over it.

later...

George

George Carlin is gone.






Bummer.

Just a couple of days ago I made the Bill Hicks poster for the sidebar. Pete introduced me to Bill's work several years ago. I'm very sad I never saw him perform in person. Bill was a quiet sort of savior, born in an unlikely place for a savior, who grew up with his eyes open, then traveled day after day after day to nudge the common man toward the light. He entertained not with miracles or magic but with language and laughter. He was misunderstood by the mainstream, crucified by the media and left us at the age of thirty two.

Now George, who was a tremendous influence for me in an earlier life. A life of college on a scholarship, working in a morgue, driving an aging MGB and stealing crackers from the school cafeteria to get by. George was there for me in those days, making me cry with laughter and teaching me more about humanity and language than in any humanities class.

I'm a card-carrying atheist to be sure. But I can imagine George awakening in some eternal place, where he'll evolve further or go back for another round, or do whatever it is souls might do upon waking from life's dream.

Possibly Bill is there to greet him. Possibly he just left a note.


Whatever is, that imagining makes me smile, and I'm extremely grateful for these talented and excellent human beings. George, bon voyage.

g'night

The State of Anti Summer

I know I live in a desert. I get that. I knew it was a desert when I moved here.

I didn't fully appreciate what that meant.

I do now.

Leave, you say?

Why, yes! Of course! Let's!

Then, our eclectic group continues to grow. Eventually, we might have enough skills between us to make and or do anything we wish, outside of things like, say, leaving the actual planet.

I'm not leaving this desert until I can take them with me.

And therein lies the word for the day. How to survive another summer in a place where it's possible not to survive summer.

We will stay safely hidden in our caves, we will use our brains and we will live in our heads.

Poppets and other art will reflect this mentality. It can't be helped. What we create mostly always reflects our current state.

Solstice? Oh yes. We have entered the state of the Anti Summer.

Algernon's Poppet

Today, from the perspective of its end, was more like three days than one.




I'm extremely glad to have experienced... them.














And we're left with these two, who seem as likely as any of us humans to figure things out.


We can only hope, silly humans.




g'night

p.s. Cookie Monster makes an appearance on The Colbert Report. If you didn't catch it tonight, catch it tomorrow. Don't miss it. Focus!

Virginia's Corset

I sent Spencer a basic brain. He modified it a bit and added an LED array.

Then he gave it back.

Just as with any sort of collaboration, I was surprised at what I got back, and intrigued by the challenge of making it mine.

I think the coolest thing about her is that she makes even me slightly uncomfortable.

unexpected

The other coolest thing is that the cobalt glass sphere rolls, creating a strange tactile sort of interaction.

I cannot stop touching her.

The other coolest thing is that there's a soft button under her 'belly' that, when touched, sets off a series of lightning-like flashes inside that vary depending on the duration and cadence of the touching.

She seems alive to me.

At eight in the evening, Orion and I swam. It was 102 degrees F outside. We watched the bats come out.

Tomorrow is another day. Another brain.

Summer is here.

anti summer

Summer is upon us. We work like fiends,
--Angie, Bent, Spencer and I. Working and swimming a bit and mostly keeping each other sane. We try to ignore the light outside, so bright we can hear it.

And at the end of the day too tired to do much more than put our feet in the water.

We make some cooler, darker, damper and more visceral things, exploring their spaces and ours.

Here are some bits of work in progress.

Like diving into cool water, sometimes we dive into dark places, don't we?

I'm thinking such explorations under the surface could help us better understand light.

So.

And.

Now we are swimming.

g'night

Light, Plants, Spiders, Ouch and the Elusive Hat

What's going on today.... We are overrun with spider plants. How does this happen? It happens because your artist tends to be slightly anthropomorphic about things like poppets and plants. Hard to believe, isn't it?

What to do. I don't have the heart to abandon a single one. And these things are the rabbits of the plant world.

Likely a party is in order...one in which everyone goes home with a basket.
Poppet helps me survey the situation. But we don't last long. It's mid-day and the light is blinding. I can describe the heat, but really, you can't understand it without the experience.

a closer look at our friend.

Quite bright inside too.

Poppet is bombarded by a storm of

strange light.

Not to worry. None of us were harmed, but we stood blinking for some time after.

Note to self: order more goggles

I continue to work intensely on projects that fall outside my comfort zone. The work is fun and mind-bending. The physical toll is not fun and actually quite sucky.

I'm thinking, as I'm standing there trying to brush my teeth by moving my head instead of my arms, that likely it's time to take a break.

Nearly time. I'm having way too much fun. Yes, I am a sad case.

And lastly, I could use a bit of help. I'm trying to find a top hat, extra large( to fit Pete's head) to geek /hack into costuming for High Sierra Music Festival. So far our efforts have resulted in well, increased wariness of ebay purchasing of hats and little else. I'm happy to purchase and/or trade for Poppets, and/or to return the hat complete with it's strange improvements.

Anyone got any good top hat resources?

Back to the laboratory, er, studio.

Maximillian is Six

The birthday boy.

Snapshots from his day, and of the people who celebrated with him.

Thanks for your discussion yesterday. Today was everything good about the marking of occasions.

Not so much writing tonight. Your artist has taken a day off.

Ahhh.... Palm Springs has its good points.

g'night