Triptych Triptych

Three series of three photographs. Three locations important to me, in California. These photographs were taken in February of this year.




The Doubletree Hotel, in San Jose, where Pantheacon is currently held. I like to hang out in the bathrooms and think about the women who come and crimp the tissues every day. That's my mother's flask sitting on the entertainment center, overpowered by the reflection of the lamp in the gloss on the particleboard; I like to think about who polishes those surfaces, and the surface of the faucet. I'm aware that the job is most likely a boring/grueling one, but when I imagine myself performing these tasks, it is in a meditative state. This is the state in which I took these pictures, and the state in which they ought to be viewed.




Ragle Park, in Sebastopol, where I spent many days between the ages of one and sixteen, and which I visit every time I'm in town. It is a beautiful, expansive park, with creeks and hills and little paths and little gardens, tadpoles in the summer and mud pits in the winter, and lots of trees to climb. This spot in the park, specifically, is special to me. It's one of those places that feels completely magical and private. It is always lit ecstatically. The branches of these trees defy logic, constantly flexing to extend, heavy, further away from the trunk and parallel to the ground. These photographs look unreal, and for that reason I find them more factual. Look at the blue here, and the gloss.




In-N-Out Burger. There's not much to say that hasn't already been said about how amazing it is. I encounter a lot of people in Chicago who are jealous of my California heritage soley based on the fact that I get to eat In-N-Out every time I visit. I really love these photographs because of how eerie they look. The restaraunt looks like a demon hellhole with grey zombie employees, somehow still spotless while infested with decay. All of which just makes me love In-N-Out more. Quality you can taste.

Stationary: Long Day

This was the first set of stationary I ever made to sell at Pantheacon, about a year and a half ago. I cut a linoleum print of a witch with a cigarette and a martini, made 20 prints, put together 20 different cards with scraps of found patterened paper, and then designed 20 envelopes for them.



You can see here how the envelope opens; it's pretty cool, you don't need tape or anything. The five pictured at the top are all of these I have left.

Stationary: Fat Man

I make a lot of cards and envelopes and things out of recycled materials. One of my favorite materials is old calenders, because they're big, glossy prints on stiff paper and make the most wonderful envelopes.


The cards to match these envelopes are collaged from images I found in this book from the 70's, apparently trying to illustrate the role of the perfect husband. It was a small gag-feminist paperback, and while confusing and potentially offensive, I really loved the photographs. I've been selling this set of stationary at school art fairs and Pantheacon.

Buttons

Here are some more buttons that were up for sale at the Holiday Art Faire. I use this rainbow fabric to make buttons a lot, because it's soft and fuzzy. There were a couple little kids totally entranced by these buttons.

Button

Another button out of recycled fabric and buttons and things. I made this one towards the end of the Holiday Art Fair last November; I had produced a bunch more but unfortunately did not get to photograph them before I (fortunately) sold them. This one I probably set out in the last hour of the fair, and that's probably why it's still around. I will be making many more of these guys and selling them at Pantheacon next month.

Hollow Book

I've been thinking lately, after seeing my best friend make a hollow book, that I would like to do it too. I've always been fascinated by secrets, and books, and especially secret books or bookshelves, and after we looked up how to do it it seemed too easy not to.


My next question is, what can I do with this? It's nice to have some hollow books around, but to satiate my undying appetite for monotonous repetition, I'd like to somehow make this process profitable so I therefore feel obliged to manufacture over and over again. I was thinking I could sell these at Pantheacon or my school's Holiday Art Sale. The Pantheacon question prompted me to wonder if I should make them more witchy, specifically: Wouldn't it be cool to keep Tarot cards in a hollow book? I could cut the holes in the correct dimensions and line them with some nice fabric. Or, wouldn't it be cool to have little hidden diorama/alters (in the vein of Deborah's wall alters) in your bookshelf?


Any thoughts as to if these ideas are good, interesting, salable? I really enjoy making these and want to know if it's a sensible idea.

Pantheacon, Insignificance

This was me last weekend, running Anne's booth three days in a row. Pantheacon is a Pagan convention that my family has been attending since its inception. Naturally I felt it was important to support mainstream music (The Strokes) while selling music no one ever listens to (most of what's in front of me).


I was also attempting to sell cards, buttons, envelopes, and portraits which, through being so utterly brilliant, blindsided most potential customers into utterly ignoring them.




I handmade all cards buttons envelopes etc myself and was continuing to make buttons all weekend. Most of them were made of cloth from old t-shirts. The cheap ones I stamped with potato stamps I cut, and the sewn ones I embroidered and embelleshed before turning into buttons. For the cards I cut a linoleum print of a witch smoking and drinking (in honor of all my lovely role models in the Pagan community) and then tore cards of my own design (when you tear - as opposed to cut - the edges of paper forms it gives them a nice fine quality). I made the envelopes out of old calendars.

I also made all the signs. They're also torn paper, held together with armature wire. The letters are stamped on from two kits I purchased last winter at Paxton Gate. I used the same stamps on my Christmas presents this year, as seen below.


And, because I know you don't care, here are some pictures of my dorm room walls and what is on them.




My dorm room contains a kitchenette which I don't actually stand on all that often. All paintings in this picture are mine.


Here is one last closeup of some of the buttons I made at Pantheacon, being worn by their owners, my father and sister.