Tag Archives: Blogs

Time Sure Flies!

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HAPPY CANADA 150 DAY!

Here we are at the start of Summer already!  Time sure flies by when one is busy!  Hope you haven’t been too busy and get to relax this summer.  Me…I’ll be busy moving my studio so haven’t been able to fit in any writing time it seems.  Been a whirlwind selecting new window coverings, changing decor colors…all that fun stuff when moving.

Definitely will be taking time off to have my Birthday picnic at the end of the month!

Today is Etsy’s big Canada 150 promo day so joining the ranks with all of the other Etsies out there with a flurry of social media antics.

My shop will be closed for the month of July and hopefully I will get caught up on finishing my blog posts…”All About Crystal”, “Wondrous Bismuth” and of course the on-going tale of Baby Ugly.  

Speaking of Dolls…the 3rd in my collection is finished!  “Canadiana” has been created in my unique way for celebrating Canada’s 150.  Perhaps you too have a creative element during your celebrations…would love to hear about it!

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“Canadiana”

 

  

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Of Ghosts and Garnets part 1

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Of Ghosts and Garnets part 1

Long ago and far away on the other side of this vast Northern Continent – lived a scrawny, filthy and always wary ginger-haired girl and her doll….Baby Ugly.

Baby Ugly was a constant naked companion. Ever present during the days with wild wide open eyes during the night. While spirits wandered through out the rest of the derelict house they could not or would not pass through the Dutch door into their bedroom. Quite possible installed for this reason.

The house with it’s spotlight windows and deep dark chimney that sat on a hill. Whose view encompassed all of the Vancouver skyline disappearing into the fade of the distant ski-hill.

Though the split door hindered the ghosts and other entities, the cast iron air vent way high near the ceiling did not. The vent was usually shut but on occasions the wispy bony spirit limbs would rattle it open, usually as the brightest of bright moonlight flooded the small area. As the lumbering Popular tree branches danced and criss-crossed their grey shadows onto the curtain-less window. To the thud of some departed heart slowed with mud and sea grass.

Not only would Baby Ugly lay there unblinking, but so would the waif of the girl. Who’s eyes were the very same shade of Denim Blue as the doll. Eyes that during the day would seal shut tight to pretend what it was like to be blind wandering around the house… and quite adeptly. Considered good practice being that only one eye was good anyways and blindness may become a regular way of life.

Certainly Baby Ugly and the girl were not afraid of ghosts. They were afraid of the living. The constant threat of bloodshed. The confusion of others. The use of implements on parts that were not designed for such implements. The looks of muddled blatant hate swinging with veiled dirty looks. They were both the unwanted, the not needed, the sore bleeding scab that one picks unconsciously. Only to go to a mirror and pick at it again full of vengeance and with renewed vigor.

We must go back further, before the house, when the scab was new. To the one bedroom slum apartment situated at the race start of the tenement. Baby Ugly and the girl dragging a cereal box on a string and picking up litter with a stick. Neither spoke at that time, with the exception when some kid would kick over the box of trash. Then the girl became so alive and with a tremendously strong pitch, would fire as many lashings at the neighborhood brat as possible. Nobody messed with her duties…