Lady S. receives arm and more

Lady S arrived in south Tx.

with some amazing additions already.

I added the following...

feathers to her beautifully done wings (by Amy),

a right arm covered in vintage fabric,

a long horse hair braid,

feathers and beads to her hair

a poncho with a vintage button on the front

 (the poncho holds up her wings btw),

brown and copper paint on her body,

The braid is intertwined with a sheer purple ribbon.

This pic above shows the beautiful colors of her wings.

The Isis necklace that Amy gave her is now wrapped around

a recycled sari yarn collar.

I also aged the necklace with a bit of paint.

Lady S. is transforming,

as her journal explains.

She has arrived in Egypt

and the year is 1922.

Is it all a dream?

Where is her father?

Did the Horus mask she purchased

put some sort of spell on her?

Egypt is a land of great mystery.

As she catches a glimpse of herself

in a reflection,

she realizes then,

that this is NOT a dream.

What happens next?

Lady S. travels to Gail in North Carolina

to continue her story,

and for more additions.

Yvonne

in South Texas

Serenity

As soon as I saw Serenity, I knew I wanted to make her a seahorse centaur. A seahorse is a very serene little critter. Having semi-useless fins, it prefers protected waters like a bay or inlet, and relies on the currents to carry it from place to place. Serenity's posture and long neck, and the shells and moons and horsehair added by Yvonne, all led me to creating a seahorse centaur. Since she was already 11 inches tall without legs, it was also a way to finish her length without exceeding our 12 inch goal by much - she's just shy of 14 inches tall now.

Her seahorse tail is slightly stuffed fabric over a wire armature and is embellished with copper netting (from a repurposed scouring pad) and copper wire. I just had to use the vintage lace with leaves that so closely resemble those in Amy's fabric torso, so I painted it to complement Yvonne's lace headdress and made a paper and lace belt. She could probably use a belt adornment, but I left that for someone else to decide.





She'll soon be heading to MA in Canada. I figured since seahorses don't travel real fast, I better get her off early so MA would have some time with her.

Lady Sebastien Takes Flight

Lady Sebastian, while waiting for the day of her departure, wandered the streets of New York. On one of these wandering walks, she encountered an import/export business that had Egyptian artifacts which had just arrived. She entered and was astounded at the beauty of the artifacts. One, in particular, struck her, and she decided she must have it. It was a mask, in the likeness of Horus, the winged one.

She returned to her rooms immediately to examine her treasure. "It is just magnificent! Oh, I wish Father could see it!"

She fell asleep, and dreamed.
In her dreams, she was soaring high above the earth.

Oh! She had wings! She could feel the wind ruffling her hair. But, wait - it seems that there are feathers!

"Can it be? I have such keen eyesight!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, wingless daughter - of course it can. You have assumed my form and can fly wherever you will." The voice sounded deep and foreign in her head.


Lady Sebastian arrived and her form immediately spoke to me of a bird. I fought the impulse for a while before seeing a picture of the winged gods and goddesses in Talitha's journal. I found golden wings and painted them to resemble the wings in the funerary paintings in all of my books on the archeology of Egypt.

I painted Lady S's body with gesso and covered her head with paper clay to form her face and textured the hair to make it more feather like. I added paper clay feet as well. Her hair was painted brown and gold and she was given blue eyes and kohl eye-makeup in the style of the Egyptian masks. She has a beak-like mouth to suggest a birdlike visage and she has a necklace with the winged god's charm. Her wings are not attached currently, as there would be no way to clothe her.

Onoma photos

Onoma the alien warrior poet has brown mottled skin and a tail. The armor laced over the body and tail is made from recycled milk bottle plastic, but I hope will become embellished in time. It is meant to be removable and to fit over whatever garments Onoma wears (or perhaps under them as will be determined).

Here are the journal pages.

And here is the transcript of Onoma's story in easier to read format:

Ganymede’s Epihelion 4407

In the outer quadrant nova dust cloud.

Mineral Transport and Salvage ship,

Stone Traveler

Security Officer’s Personal Log:

My first days on this ship have been quiet. Captain Di Seca has tasked me with examining the backgrounds of the new grunts, as he calls the workers on his crew. Their files are nothing unexpected. Of course I also have opened his file. There is nothing unusual there either, as far as I can tell.

The Captain was acceptant of the strange brevity of my own record. I cannot tell him any more than is written – my sudden awakening amongst the detritus of what must have been a great battle, salvaged in the wreckage of the Flagship of Perone, no uniform, no insignia of any kind, no memory and evidently no-one to miss me.

Yet I have a sense of destiny, and the instinctive skills of a warrior that I have no recollection of learning - but that the moves are in my muscles, the clarity of strategy in any situation burns in my mind, and then there is my physique. I have learnt that my race is that of the legendary Dragons of Estavan IV.

There is little written of these ancient and courtly people, other than fragments of their poetry and such complex musical compositions as they have allowed to travel into the populated universe over the last several centuries. The way to Estavan IV is lost.

So I search for clues to my presence in the fleet of the Perone, part of a trade war, with the abilities and skills of a mercenary - and amnesia. I demonstrably know enough to let me be hired on as an officer in this industrial merchant vessel that has the longest and furthest flung pattern of any ship other than the explorer/colony mega ships that will move beyond the galaxy rim. For those one must have family units. They are worlds unto themselves.

I search the galaxy for others of my kind, for what might be my home. I search within for that elusive poetical sensibility that has been touted as the hallmark of my people. To that end, I plan to write poems, and perhaps release the secrets of my own life from behind my eyes. I’m stuck with Galactic standard dialect, for unless I hear otherwise, this is the only language my amnesia has left me.  I can only read translations of my native poetry.

As for the music, well the musicians I have met express eloquent admiration of the technical dexterity and complex ideation of non-harmonic multi-scale songlines – but I find I’m drawn to an old Earth (Sol 3) musical tradition called “Blues”.

 First Poem

For though I am alone

What is left but Unity?

If I am the last of my kind

So then I am my own beginning.

The screen is wiped clean.

The whole universe is now my home.

Audacity - by MA

When Audacity arrived to visit with me, I knew immediately what she wanted.

She wanted to be riding on an octopus!

An octopus?
Really?

How odd!

Well, after a lot of finagling, she got her desire.

The octopus was initially created with felt, which was then stuffed, gessoed and painted with several coats of paint to come as close as I could to the lovely green colour that Audacity already had.  Each of her tentacles has nine pairs of sequins (held on with beads) for the suckers.  Her eyes came from my stash of teddy bear eyes.  I left Audacity's torso unattached so that subsequent artists could add a skirt or whatever they felt she needed.

Page one of her journal was a picture I found on the internet, which I highlighted and added German scrap around the outside.

'Atlantis, though lost, still lives"

Page two includes multiple layers of acrylic paint and yarn which was drawn through a white glue & water solution before attaching to the paper.  Each strand was then painted.  A plastic altered fish and some sand completed the page.

Page three was another picture I found on the internet, highlighted with more sand (which came from Prince Edward Island) and a sand dollar that was in my stash. 

Page four - included a picture of Audacity and her octopus.  The tag is movable and my information is on the back.  The paper was created using multiple layers of paint and then was stenciled to add the circles (which are meant to represent bubbles in the water). 

Onoma's Journal

I'm still finishing up the journal - want to add some more images of the doll to it, but I have started Onoma's journal as a science fiction story.

Here is a transcript of the journal entry:

Ganymede’s Epihelion 4407

In the outer quadrant nova dust cloud.

Mineral Transport and Salvage ship,

Stone Traveler

Security Officer’s Personal Log:

My first days on this ship have been quiet. Captain Di Seca has tasked me with examining the backgrounds of the new grunts, as he calls the workers on his crew. Their files are nothing unexpected. Of course I also have opened his file. There is nothing unusual there either, as far as I can tell.

The Captain was acceptant of the strange brevity of my own record. I cannot tell him any more than is written – my sudden awakening amongst the detritus of what must have been a great battle, salvaged in the wreckage of the Flagship of Perone, no uniform, no insignia of any kind, no memory and evidently no-one to miss me.

Yet I have a sense of destiny, and the instinctive skills of a warrior that I have no recollection of learning - but that the moves are in my muscles, the clarity of strategy in any situation burns in my mind, and then there is my physique. I have learnt that my race is that of the legendary Dragons of Estavan IV.

There is little written of these ancient and courtly people, other than fragments of their poetry and such complex musical compositions as they have allowed to travel into the populated universe over the last several centuries. The way to Estavan IV is lost.

So I search for clues to my presence in the fleet of the Perone, part of a trade war, with the abilities and skills of a mercenary - and amnesia. I demonstrably know enough to let me be hired on as an officer in this industrial merchant vessel that has the longest and furthest flung pattern of any ship other than the explorer/colony mega ships that will move beyond the galaxy rim. For those one must have family units. They are worlds unto themselves.

I search the galaxy for others of my kind, for what might be my home. I search within for that elusive poetical sensibility that has been touted as the hallmark of my people. To that end, I plan to write poems, and perhaps release the secrets of my own life from behind my eyes. I’m stuck with Galactic standard dialect, for unless I hear otherwise, this is the only language my amnesia has left me.  I can only read translations of my native poetry.

As for the music, well the musicians I have met express eloquent admiration of the technical dexterity and complex ideation of non-harmonic multi-scale songlines – but I find I’m drawn to an old Earth (Sol 3) musical tradition called “Blues”.

Onoma's First Poem

For though I am alone

What is left but Unity?

If I am the last of my kind

So then I am my own beginning.

The screen is wiped clean.

The whole universe is now my home.

Playing with the Charming Prince

My part of the fabulous scroll journal contains images

of my work in the same materials as the work.

A little paint, a little paper, some fabric, and a little glitter just for fun:-)

Swamp box for royal comfort.

Two fleur-de-lis for his royal heritage and a lily pad for his amphibian heritage.

The fleurs are satin fused to felt, the pad velvet and satin with beading in the center.

(Fluer-de-lis are stylized lilies, wink, wink:-)

Here is the young prince in his velvet pants and
pleather boots standing next to his box.

Following Robyn's statement "let's play", I took him in a whimsical direction.

His frog feet are fabric that has been heat bonded right to the rigid cast of his original feet.
They fit into his boots so he can "pass".
(It's probably best that he travel without his boots on because I'm not sure how his feet would react to prolonged boot wearing.)

Looking forward to seeing what he becomes next!

Anneelaw ready to leave arlee!

Above, front. Below, back:


Pouch detail:
She will actually have a pen in the pouch, not the paint brush i subbed for the photo!

Front of my spread for her travelling journal:
Inside spread:
Back:

The front and back are deliberately wordless: i liked the contrast of such quiet with the wild and words inside. I’d also like to have the front and back printed as cards!

Anneelaw, first stage

Above, the first stage: "arm" bent and covered with ruched hand dyed hollyhock silk, below, the embroidered hand being attached.

Above, the giant bobbin, below, the "Canadian Collar"--it's cold here!!! :)
Behind the scenes, i have been diligently working on MaryAnne‘s figure. I had no clue where to start—such a unique figure to begin with! Originally part of a lamp, MaryAnne mentioned that i could take the “head” off. I surmised that that also meant i could bend wires to alter as well, so left her head where it is and have created a special arm for her.

I thought i’d play on the fact that Anneelaw did start as a lamp: illumination, vision and well lit paths are coming into focus here then. The hand that “sees” intuitively and the eye that creates are working together to invent and map the explorations and experiments. She will hold a giant bobbin of hand twisted cording and naturally dyed embroidery floss, and carry a pen sheathed in her “back”, threads to mark or record the journey, and pen (being mightier than sword) to chronicle or defend.

She’s not quite done yet, so i’ll post a picture later this afternoon. She then moves on to California to Robyn for her next addition.