Posts in Tortured Soul
I sampled purgatory (again)… this time at Logan airport. I guess if I was jogging in place for five hours I’d like to be blasted with cold air from a ceiling vent. And if I wanted to watch a Surrealist film, I would have used my precious data and Boingo wifi to stream Volume I of the Anthology of Surreal Cinema on Netflix.
But like a group of shipwrecked strangers, bobbing in a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic, we were trapped together. Trapped and forced to watch a grown woman giving life to a humanoid using only her bare hands.
Anyway, flight 244 may have been delayed but it took off with little fanfare. Passengers boarded like zombies, sans bloody mouths.
I wish I would have thanked that needle-felting woman and I’ll probably never see again, but I’ll never forget her.
Here is a thank you card that has nothing to do with her or the travel odyssey.
Belting out classic tunes in a rental car on the way back from the beach after not being eaten by a shark is the best/only way to express our love for Cape Cod.
Getting past crippling body dysmorphia, skunk babies, and smelly garbage has only brought us closer together. Yay, Cape Cod!
And because I’m a big fan of Mr. Edward Gorey (who lived, and died, on the Cape once-upon-a-time), I am making some pretty useful medical flashcards. Stay tuned for H-Z…
Oh, and The Intern always performs radical stunts, so I made her this birthday card:
I hope no one in our party is eaten by a shark – fingers crossed!
Silverfish are not really fish and not made of a precious metal. But they do love my bedroom. Observe:
I’d like to say I smashed that one but I didn’t and it probably used my sleeping body as a jungle gym. I have already smashed members of its family and I thought that’d be a warning but obviously it’s not. Now I sleep with a sock on my head and zipped up to the tippy-top in a neoprene bag. But I laugh as I drift off to sleep because I want the silverfish to know I’m not afraid and my kids to know that I’m not insane. HAHA!
brought me a freshly murdered baby bunny.
And after I was done screaming hysterically, cursing the guilty,
and watching my friend scoop up the body with a shovel, I made a card.
I don’t know what Jen did between printing cards for the new release, but I was able to fill my time with important things.
It’s so important to live in the here and now!
Franmas has come and gone and was filled with begging
and mandatory/all-day posing.
**Not pictured: Flaming effigy/piñata the kids made of/for me.**
After I took this photo, we all laughed and shared a bar of 89% cacao, its whisper of sweetness brought us closer together. And the birthday celebration lasted longer than just 24 hours because the very next day Jen and I started printing the Spring Release!
Our telepathic communication is less fun than it used to be so we started using very subtle mumbling and facial expressions to share feelings of disgust or acceptance when choosing paper and envelopes.
While Jen prints, I conduct important research and send her texts.
Even though she doesn’t respond, I know she nods her head, files the information away, and appreciates it very much. She never sees me mouth the words, “You’re welcome.”
Between watching a stolen copy of Firestarter,
having my myofascial system manipulated, and stuffing Jen’s pants with firecrackers, we had just enough time to choose cards for the spring release. And because I am so generous, I slowed-down the best scene in Firestarter so everyone can enjoy it as much as I did. **SPOILER ALERT** Little Drew is often blinded by rage and uses the pyrokinetic powers she inherited from her mother, Heather Locklear, to burn her enemies alive. Also, George C. Scott can kill a man with one precise karate chop to the underside of the nose. (See clip above.)
NOW, wanna know what cards we chose?? I’ll only show you FOUR, because I am full of mystery.
More on vicarious living…
Some people have places to go and people to see. NOT ME. I planted myself in a pot of dirt years ago and rely on friends, relatives, rumors, and Facebook to satisfy any (two-dimensional) cravings and wanderlust I might have.
Already this month, Jen texted me a photo she took of my brother (her husband) standing next to a card rack (with our cards) at Small World Books in California.
As if that wasn’t enough, my nephew met/stayed with our New Zealand distributor! I’m so glad she didn’t murder him! I asked my nephew to take photos of himself in front of our cards but he only sent a photo of his foot with Helen Harvey in the background.
I told him that was close enough.
Oh, AND The Intern ran a half marathon in NYC
so I made her a card using a printer’s block she gave me.
I stopped going outside sometime in November because I’m waiting to try out my Earthing Sandals.
I am thinking (fingers crossed!) that April will be the lucky month. Maybe I can join my neighbor’s walking club… they use walking poles and I don’t want to look like a weirdo without them… I better order some today…
Oh, I have created a lil’ masterpiece for an insurance company in Florida.
A two-sided card that Jen will print and the Alltrust consultants will throw at CEO’s as they run out the door. It turns out that Floridians need to be insured for more than just sinkholes, gator-attacks, and flakka-induced cannibalism. Who knew??
All of the Walking Club Fantasies and Semaphore-Practicing, inspired two new cards. I tried to make a Valentine’s Day card and I might have succeeded. YOU TELL ME.
And this one is actually Based On A True Story.
Back to daydreaming…
February 7, 1992 • 1:10 a.m.
Did I just wet my pants a little bit?? No… I am, like, totally, 42 weeks pregnant… That has to be my water breaking…
AND THUS BEGAN MY ILLUSTRIOUS CAREER OF MOTHERHOOD.
That baby turned 25 the other day and despite the challenges (super-poor, a string of stalkers, household hygiene issues, pretending to be a graphic designer/art director, more babies, homeschooling, Fran Shea’s Cat Ranch, and Zeichen Press) he still tolerates me.
I made a birthday card and I’ll show it to him after I explain where babies come from.
Oh, and SPEAKING OF BIRTHDAYS, RSVP licensed more of our art.