I’m spent.

I’m done.

Really, honestly, it’s been going on since I got up ridiculously late today.

And, yeah, y’all did read art!hangover.  I get hangovers from strange things (e.g., arting, people, people), but interestingly, I don’t get normal hangovers from drinking.  Mostly, because I have a ludicrously high tolerance so that it takes so long to get me even going on a good buzz that I get bored with drinking and I find something else to do.  Or the party ends.  Whichever comes first.

So, yeah, the art!hangover has to do with the change of quarter at the ARTgararge combined with a massive funk that took up most of the last two months, so the last week has been a Case of the Amazing Arting Squid (coming soon to a theatre near you).

installation view of new works from spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement
spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: the ur-Prince
electronics wire, jewelry wire
spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: before there was Ariel
handmade flax paper, ink, copper wire, handspun yarn (from a Hello Purl art batt), commercial yarn

The L-A-N-G-U-A-G-E poetry/Word Art part of it reads:

a little sea-woman (not really, just a stupid girl)

all operatic beauty and siren-song strength
(there’s always a BeforeBefore always seems
like a place to have remained if we were sane
rather than rapid, rabid liminality)
then–oh, then–a glance, a rescue
and it’s all idiotic love-at-first-sight
and forego present-identity
for the encompassing ambiguity
(submission, subsumission)
of the Loved-Self
but–she’s soulless
destined for 300 years
that ends in sea-foam dissolution and
then Nothing(ness)
(how Sarte)
enter the Sea Witch
driving a hard (maybe cruel)
eternity and salvation available only
through idiotic romantic love
through true loves kiss
(because, of course,
she is Abomination and Fallen
not because she’s Mer
but because she’s a She)
fins to sword-sharp, rending
(mutilating) pain
voice for legs
like Morse Code
self-sacrifice and transmutation
sword-sharp pain to legs to dancing
(because there’s always a
lateral trade in these things)
Mer to something not-quite human (simian)
fish to ape
…and there’s betrayal–
there’s always betrayal–
and betrayal breeds betrayal
dancing to heartbreak
(not everyone knows that its possible
to die from heartbreak
the walking wounded
missing more parts than in that
mythical Before)
and all that’s left is more betrayal
the only salvation is blood and death
betrayal and another’s heartache
(there’s a lot of betrayal)
knife to blood to pain to legs to fins again
of course, yet–
because she’s heroic and stupidly in-love
and some oddly skewed feminist ideal
of courage and curiosity and so much
self-sacrificing fearlessness
so, there’s no betrayal;
instead there’s suicide and sea foam
water sprite to air elemental
sacrifice and suicide and 300 years of
playing some sort of St. Nicholas scavenger hunt
(for the naughty and nice)
gains some sort of salvation
(eternity) (soul)
that a heartless god denies those of
the Water
(the Moon)
spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: Scheherazade
copper wire, handmade flax paper, beaded trim, fabric, ink

The L-A-N-G-U-A-G-E poetry/Word Art part of it reads:

tell me about the bodies

drug from the water

track-lines and bruises visible on

pale, mutilated flesh.


tell me a story

because we are all


just stories

left in the wreckage


tell me a story

spanning a 1001 days, a 1001 nights





tell me about the bodies

drug from your memory

graceful lines and shadows

full lives lead in echoes of you

spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: oyster emotions
found object, gutted lightbulbs, fiber
spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: Zellandine
copper wire, handspun silk, handspun yarn (from a Hello Purl art batt), handmade flax paper, commercial yarn, ink

The L-A-N-G-U-A-G-E poetry/Word Art part of it reads:

This piece was actually inspired by Spiritflesh by 1001cranes.
spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: echoes
electronics wire, silk and stainless steel yarn, jewelry wire, copper wire

*waves hand*

That one’s really more Tuttle-esque in that it’s more about the shadows being cast than the shapes themselves.

Okay, I’m going to go.  I’ll try not to be such a slacker.



So, yeah, the new series, or let me raise my geek-flag high!

I don’t have anything done from it yet (actually, I’m kinda still incubating it a bit), but I think I might be ready to talk a little bit more about it.

So, for those of you playing the Home Game, once upon a time, I was a dyed-in-the-wool academic.

Still am, actually; I just do art-y things now that write papers or present at conference mostly.

And, if you’ve heard this all before, please feel free to skip to the end.  Just like in Princess Bride.  I promise there will be no damaging of perfect breasts in this.  No breasts were remotely harmed in the making of this post.  Swear.

But, yeah, academic, and I don’t fanart well because, while I’m an artist, I’m not really a draw-people type artist.  I’m conceptual and mixed media with sculptural tendencies and a hankering (sic) for fiber.  So–drawing, not really part of my wheel-house except when we’re talking about things like my unnamed friends or the beast series.

It’s just how I roll:  fast and outta control.

I’m also post-postmodern (or quixotic postmodern or conscientious postmodern–something of that nature), which means that I deconstruct, analyze (and is it just me that “analyze” is kinda a pervy word?), meta, reconstruct, and meta some more.

Again, this is why popular culture/Visual Culture, fairytales, and mythology are like my THING.  They’re inherently meta, and I can just fiddle meta about.

What I’m planning is kinda a two (maybe three?) pronged series where bits and pieces of fanfic are going to be translated into embroidered pieces and/or giant Word Art (because Word Art was always one of those things I enjoyed playing with and working on, but I really haven’t had anything Word Art-y in the process since I left Art School because it always seems to take up so much space and there’s already a space issue in my studio because old art hasn’t sold or hasn’t been boxed properly to be sent to storage), and there’ll be sculptural not-installations that are meta character studies like I’m totally cos-playing evil-werewolf!Stiles from Dogs of War by Saucery and this image by creature13 and have plans to install the costume as an art piece with these sources cited.  And I have ideas for semi-Cubist metal sculptures/wall pieces that are, like, gestural experiences of certain characters or moments from fandom and stuff with exquisite-corpse-esque interpretations of media.

So, yeah, it’s gonna be fanart, but it’s gonna be fanart in that was that isn’t in a traditionally-fanart way.

…I’m likely to end up being really unpopular everywhere?  Maybe?

I’m very good at citation.  I swear.

And, because I know most people don’t read my blog for me being all wordy and blathery and stuff, here’s some yarn (imaged as a process) that I just finished up.

a self-carding mix from Hello Purl

And, believe it or not, I sold these three skeins:

mini-art batts from Hello Purl

Also, since we’re here and talking about yarn and fiber and things, I’m going to be at ArtStreet off and on all weekend with the Traveling Treadlers.  Also, I have my class information, if people are interested in classing with me:

“Give Spinning a Whirl.”: An Introduction to Spinning Yarn <–Sorry bad!title is bad.  We tried “Spinning, yo.”, but I didn’t want a Knitta-Please-level of awfulness; the only other thing we were coming up with was “You spin me right ’round, baby, right ’round.”, but we figured it was wrong for the demographics.

When:    Thursday, September 13th 4 – 6p.m.

                     Saturday, September 29th  10a.m. – 12p.m.

                      Tuesday, November 13th 4-6

 Where:   the ARTgarage

 Cost:      $50–includes drop spindle and roving

6-in-6:  Six Books Types in Six Hours

When:    Saturday, November 10th 1-4

               Sunday, November 11th 1-4

Where:   the ARTgarage

Cost:      $60–includes materials

Additionally, Gallery Nite is coming up on Sept 20th.  I’ll be there demo-ing and trying to be charming.

Questions, comments, concerns?  What to ask me what I’m thinking with this fandom stuff?  Go for it!  I do enjoy chatting about this stuff.


So, I feel like I should explain somethings–


Especially for those of you at home playing the tentacle-made-Tumblr edition. Or those who follow the tentacle-made Facebook page.

Or, ya know *waves encompassingly*, if y’all squint to hard at anything I’m up to.

I’m a complete and utter fangirl/boy/squid, and since my work is conceptually driven by fairytales and popular culture, fandom–in all of its glorious ridiculousness and wonder–is totally my home.

Hell, most of my conference papers, articles, and class papers have involved popular culture in some way.

It’s what I do.

So, yeah, I’ve been kinda absence because fandom sucked me back in in the best possible way, and I’ve been glut-researching for fics that I’m writing–if you like that sort of thing, I have a Supernatural fic about Bobby and a Teen Wolf fic about Stiles that I have recently finished and are posted for the interweb to see…there’s SGA fic over on Wraithbait too–as well as novels that I’m working on because–sometimes–I don’t think of things like pack dynamics, but when you’re writing Therian-based novels, considering pack dynamics is kinda important.

Here’s a weird little taste of The Novel:

Oops, there was the cranky again.  “Nothing,” Delilah sighed resting against the smooth, glowing bark of a hugely ancient birch tree.  “I wasn’t here because there were any signs of Therians.  I was here to live my life.”
:That’s what I was doing here too; before every night became about me running from you and our little bantering flirtation.  This is really cutting into my day job, ya know?:
“Tell me about it.  I could totally use not doing this every night too.”
:Then why are you?  You don’t have too.  What are the other Hoods going to do if you don’t actually hunt me down and kill me?  How will they know?:
“Trust me.  They’ll know.”
:It’s just an excuse.:
I don’t want to kill you.”
:Well, I don’t want to be killed.:
“Fantastic!  We’re all agreed!”
:You make a very bad Hood.:
“And you make a lousy rhetorician.  We each have our crosses to bear.”
:And everyone’s favorite professor would know all about that, wouldn’t she.:

Yep.  This is what I write:  Hunter and Hunted flirting bantering in the woods.  How is this my life?

So, yeah, in essence, research ate my brain.  It does that sometimes.  And I can totally give out a brilliant list of recs for Teen Wolf, Sherlock, Stargate:  Atlantis, due South, The Avengers and a number of other fandoms that would make y’all weep.

But, also–in the interim–I’ve had a couple of new series ideas rattling around that are scarily largely oh my god, what am I thinking? working off of ideas that would actually take advantage of my fluency in fandom.

So, me with the thinky.  But, I’m not going to tell y’all about them right now.  I have the basics of the ideas down, but I’m waiting for them to mature so that I can fully articulate them to someone–anyone–who doesn’t have an intimate understanding of how my fan-brain and my art-brain work.  So, yeah, ‘Lain’s about it at the moment.

And, I’m still totally PTSD-ing from the Job of Evil Evilness ’cause, ya know, it’s fun for the whole family.

So, the things I’ve been working on in a totally not concentrated or organized way:

spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: Tsuki no Usagi (rabbit of the moon), Katrina (‘Trie) Blasingame, 2012

I’ve been doing some spinning too (silk is a bitch to spin–just sayin’).

These are mini-art batts that I got from Hello Purl all spun up pretty like.

They were an absolute joy to spin.  Just sayin’.

So, yeah, love me, love my art.  Love my art, love my fandom habit.





meditation and the continuation of the spindle’s work series

I’m back in that place I was in when I first moved to Wisconsin where I’m more-than-a-bit angry with recent past events, spend a great deal of my time reading–which isn’t a bad thing, but I always end up re-reading the same fanfics over and over (specifically A Farm in Iowa, Chocolatey Goodness, and Domestic Piranhas), which is also Not A Bad Thing–and spending the rest of my time rearranging/cleaning/organizing my environment to try and sort out my own head-space.

And to fill in the holes that were made by what’s made me angry.

…I suppose it’s better than when I was really angry while I was still employed and was obsessively watching Sherlock fanvids.  And not the happy, fun ones; the ones that involved the end of Series 2. <–This is me trying to be not-spoilery.

It really is quite the THING.

So, anyway, aside from the dramatic whining (’cause I can totally pull of a turbo-sulk when I want to), I’ve been working more on the spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement series.

spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: the Mirror

the Mirror is, again, a Snow White piece.  For some reason, the Queen was really in my head for this part of the series. *shrugs* I’ve always been interested in the way that the Mirror is personified (and in Snow White and the Huntsman, which I haven’t seen yet, is anthropomorphized).  In my favorite version of Snow White with Diana Rig as the Queen, the Mirror actually has three faces and is kinda a dick, yet I like the idea of the Mirror as something almost Dorian Grey in its manifestation:  it appears as corrupted as its Queen.

Also, there’s some influence going on with infected/corrupted dungeons in .hack and Diablo III.

spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: the Queen’s spell-strings

the Queen’s spell-strings plays with the portrayals of the Queen from Snow White (any version) as a witch and how, in some types of witchcraft, spellwork can be integrated into knotted strings.  In this instance, the darkness that the Queen wants to bring to Snow White situated amongst the light Snow White believes she is living in.  There are bits and pieces integrated into the “spell-strings” that reference particular parts of the fairytale:  the raven that is one of the sacred birds that watches over Snow White while she is not-dead, raw metals that reference Snow White’s protectors, Snow White’s name to make the spell reference her specifically, and an Asian-themed bit of cinnabar that references when the Queen tries to kill Snow White with a poisoned comb.

spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: Jorinda

Jorinda was turned into a bird.  She was caged and sung to be released.  Joringle, who is always elsewhere, has forgotten about her again–or, at least, he had forgotten about her in the one I remember from when I was small; forgot about Jorinda until she sang to him–in an Snow Queen-esque moment of mental manipulation.

Jorinda and Joringle always seemed like cardboard hero and heroine; hence, Jorinda’s depiction as a bird made of abaca and embroidery–’cause, can a fairytale get more “subjugation of women” than caging the female character in a bird-cage–without the William Burroughs‘ references.

spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: cthulloid treasure

cthulloid treasure is a riff on The Little Mermaid but with a distinctly Lovecraftian bent cross-bred with folklore about ningyo (i.e., Japanese mermaids).  Yet, as often happens with me and my inspiration, I am draw to the portrayal of ningyo from popular culture sources:  namely, The Mermaid Saga, a Japanese anime and manga series.  In The Mermaid Saga, eating mermaid flesh can provide longevity, or it can turn the person that consumes it into a monster.

Monster-hood is more common than immortality.

Combine this idea with a kind of Lovecraftian (or, in reality, Syrian) Mistress of the Deep (She Who Swims in Darkness or some such thing), and you have the inspiration for cthulloid treasure:  something mysterious, grotesque, and from another world of understanding with spray paint golden scales that shine like the sun.

spindle’s work, Zellandine’s denouement: sub-text

Really, what does it look like.

Think about it.

Embrace your inner-12-year-old boy.

I’ll wait.

*insert the Jeopardy theme song here*

A vagina dentata but woven on a circle loom.  Really, given what is always sub-textually present in fairytales and what modern fairytale writers have done with that sub-text, it was bound to happen in this series.

I swear I wasn’t really trying to be snotty with that last description, but it really is what it looks like and that’s how it ended up as part of this series and not something else.

What can I say?  I’m a sick, twisted deviant on occasion.

Oh, while I’m thinking about it, there’s an opening at the ARTgarage for Bonnie de Arteaga‘s front gallery exhibit; it’s Friday from 5-8.


Random post of randomness.

I know I’ve been being, like, the most boring, non-art-posting art blogger/artist in the history of forever.

Though, for those of you that follow the Tumblr or the Facebook page, you have to admit that there has been some choice art and some really good Avengers fic.

Just wait for it.  I’ll be sharing Sherlock fanvids with y’all yet.

But, yeah, with the lack of direct, specific art-related posts over here in WordPress Land.

I want to show y’all a better picture of my spinning wheel, but I don’t have any pictures of Vincent yet.  I have, if y’all are into that sort of thing, set up an Instagram (I’m triesquid like I am just about everywhere) because I sucked it up and got an iPad for myself.

I kinda <3 him.  His name is Hermes.

I don’t know why.  Don’t ask me.

…and, yes, I do name pretty much everything.  I’m a weirdo that way.


I did find this really interesting article in The Chronicle of Higher Education this last week (or was it last week?  I don’t remember.  I just know that I have been saving for y’all.  ‘Cause I <3 y’all so much!):  “Poets in the Print Shop.”

It’s quite nice.

On another side note, ’cause I’m full of them today, I’ve been reading Sherman Alexie’s novel The Absolutely True Story of a Part-Time Indian.  It’s fantastic.

*flails around for an image so that this won’t be another image-less post*

Did I mention that I just ordered a bunch of stuff from Nut and Bee, who is going out of business and I’m SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD about it.

…does anyone think that using the llama stamp for the “you’ve been to The CRANE Center” stamp would be too–backhanded?  Y’all know what it’s like to be a panic-ridden student (quite a few know what it’s like to deal with panic-ridden students):  is the llama stamp too obviously “drama llama?”

Also, Instagram.  See, I wasn’t lying about the Instagram.

*is totally not a hipster*


*tra lala la la*

Okay, I’m done spazing for now.

Courage and drama llamas.

Random, willful, wanton writing on a Saturday morning.

Before I go off to rummage, I have a story for y’all.

Gnome and I were talking about subversive, subtextual narratives in Star Trek: TOS: Kirk/Spock, Spock/Uhura, Kirk/McCoy, Spock/McCoy, and Kirk/Spock/McCoy with Kirk as the omni-sexual predecessor of Captain Jack.

These are the conversations we have. Yes, we’re kinda geeky and weird.


And, we got talking about Dracula (Coppola’s adaptation and the original text)—this happens sometimes too—and, I was talking about the narrative in Dracula is unreliable and, in my opinion, seems like it’s been massively retconed—which is something I always kinda feel like with epistolary novels and first person narration.

So, my theory is that, at the end of Dracula where it takes *cough*five*cough* men to kill Dracula, there’s an altertnative ending. What we’re reading is the official story that they took back to England, replete with a gallant death for the American since there’s no possible way he could have survived such close proximity to the supernatural. What really happened is that everyone when all swoony over Dracula and shacked up with him. Quincy decided to stay forever (hence why he’s “dead”), and Mina’s child (that is always presented as some sort of amalgam of Van Helsing, Jack [Brilliant Jack! Do you like it?], Jonathan, Quincy, and Arthur) is actually Dracula’s.

There’s more to the theory, but I may just have to write the Story Of It, ya know?


Attacked by mechanical ladybugs. At least, it’s better than being rejected by a toaster.

I’m mixing my metaphors again.  Y’all know how that goes.

I’ve been reading Bella Tuscany again; I actually finished it a couple of days ago.  I don’t know why I needed to read this again, but in retrospect, it probably has to do with the way that Frances Mayes talks about the way art is alive and part of the everyday in Italy:  all the local chapels have magnificent icons of Mary and works by Renaissance Masters.

It got me in the mood to create the PowerPoint for Gnome’s Humanities classes and talk about how the definition of art has changed in such drastic ways and how art has inundated the everyday because there are artists that want their art to be part of everyday experience (like the artist consortium poketo) and artists who create monumental works for the everyday like Dr. Evermor (artists who are referred to as “vernacular artists”).  This everyday-ness has become so prevelant that Aestheticians have begun talking about “everyday aesthetics”:  the aesthetics of the hotel, the football game, the places and spaces that we live in every day of our lives.

I have these books that I always return to, that speak certain things to me, that change each time that I read them because, each time I read them, I’m a different person.  They’re battered and torn not because of abuse but because they have been loved shabby like a favorite woobie blanket or a ridiculously ugly acid-green sweater that was bestowed when a dear friend grew too talk for it and given with love because she knew that I would never grow too tall for it and would always love that it was ridiculously ugly ’cause that’s the way I am.

It explains why I have so very many books:  I need them close and physical and accessible.  It’s a physical pain when I desperately need to read something that’s been put away into storage because we don’t have enough book shelves yet or because the dear book-friend I long for has been buried behind so many other books that it can’t be found.

A month or two ago, I had a deep longing to read the first five-ish chapters of Owlsight by Mercedes Lackey because of Keisha.  There’s something about when she abruptly uproots her life with her family to become the town Healer that seemed like the exact thing to celebrate my first year anniversary in Wisconsin, and when Keisha learns to ground-and-shield for the first time, how she talks about never having dreamed of flying but always having dreamed of being an oak tree.  I know how she feels.

I’ve never once dreamed of flying:  I dream of falling, of zombie apocalypses, of far-flung battles, and of a violinist I might have been once-upon-a-time in another life.

But not flying.

Okay, on my Kindle counts as accessible too.  I kinda carry my Kindle with me everywhere because I keep my favorite fanfics on it, ever at the ready:  like A Farm in Iowa.  I think I’ve read this fic (which is like 300-400+ pages long) 5 or 6 times since I moved to Wisconsin—because it always reminds me about finding Home in unlikely places and in unlikely people.

Wisconsin was like that for me.  Wisconsin is my blue-painted bedroom to lay my head down in when I’m cranky and hate the world or my farm after a long life of cranky and being misunderstood.

I like it here, and I like the people that I’ve met here.

So, yeah.  Welcome to the random thinking about books.  There’s thinking coming about The Parasol Protectorate also, but right now, I think that *waves hand* all of the above book-thinking is probably enough.

And, a bit revealing.

*feels exposed*

In a completely unrelated (at least, obviously related) event, I’ve been asked to join a group show at the end of April:  Circus Nerve.

It’s very exciting.  I had met the curator at a show at IQ’s (before it closed), so I know her a little (her name’s Natalie).  Evidently, she had been at the ARTgarage and saw my studio and work and asked me to join the show.


There will be more about this very exciting event as it unfolds.


Courage and cake!

my middle name is procrastination–or was it OCD-tendencies?

So, due to interweb outages were I live, I wasn’t able to really do the post on Tuesday.  Instead, I posted from my cell with promises, promises, promises.


Here were those promises:  the Iola car show (with pictures), Heather Peterson’s Peterman’s bags, teaching at the Art Garage (I know, wtf), and a couple of questions about how artists achieve success.


So, the Iola Car Show.  What does the Iola Car Show have to do with art exactly?  Aside from hosting a car-themed art show, there’s also the matter that cars, in and of themselves, are art.  They are designed for aesthetics as well as function (which is something that I’m always interested in–where form and function meet).  They are a part of our visual culture (have been for quite a long time) and show up from decorations to video games to the drive-way.  They become iconic in visual culture such as the Impala in Supernatural and the Bluesmobile in The Blues Brothers.  Some cars are  so iconic that people even reproduce them for events like the Iola Car Show.


blues brothers

The Bluesmobile.  Just hanging, ya know?

Other pretties that I saw.  Not all of them, mind cause that would be insane.

herbie the love bug

Herbie the Love Bug!  It actually spit water.


Just pretty.

row of cars

This is what I meant about showing all the cars would be insane.  This is a very, very small part of the show.

the car that beats up all the other cars

I <3 this car.  It’s the car that beats up all other cars.

steampunk buick

This car is specifically for the lovely Miss ‘Lain.  It’s so steampunk–if we dumped a steam engine in it or somethings.

sheppard truck farm in iowa

In my  head, this is John Sheppard’s truck in sheafrotherdon‘s A Farm in Iowa series.

funnel cakes and cheese curds

Oh, Wisconsin!  What a magical wonderland where you can get funnel cakes and fried cheese curds within 50 feet of each other!

choose cheese

I want this sign.

demand butter

I also want this sign.

So, this was my Saturday at the Iola Car Show.  It was huge and too warm and kinda awesome.

Second on my crazy, crazy list of promises for this post is the wonderful work of Heather Peterman.  She makes these fantastic bags that originate with paintings that she scans and uploads onto Spoonflower and then orders fabric in order to make bags and pillows and other fabric-y awesomeness.  She sells them at like 7 different places in Green Bay including the Art Garage and at the Wednesday Farmers Market on Broadway.

bird bag


This is, currently, my favorite bag.  The image, unfortunately, is completely craptastic because it was one of those kinda of days.  The thing has like 8 different pockets!


seen about

When I was at the grocer, I saw this lady that had a Heather Peterman bag too!  We are everywhere!

I foresee more of these bags and things in my future.

And, I think I might keep the “teaching at the Art Garage (I know, wtf), and a couple of questions about how artists achieve success” until next week because this post is getting waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out of hand.