Innocence

They all say the loss of innocence starts with a girl's first period. Well, what about guys? I think the loss of innocence is when you lose a part of your childhood. Like losing one's baby teeth, usually the very first thing that steps one into adulthood, even with monetary exchange!

I started with the egg. I scored out a nice oval, coated it in resin, gilded it, put in a background of coloured paper and dried baby's breath, then mounted the tooth. There's a little crack in the side (which you can see there and in the finished photo above), but I'll tell you about that later.

Lessons learned here: When mounting the paper, I used a slice of cork to bring it toward the front of the opening, and the tooth is resting on a nail jammed in the cork. Put all pieces (except the tooth) together before putting it in the egg. The nail may break everything out the back. Also, take your time when scoring the egg, or else you will have cracks (my crack has nothing to do with this, sadly).

I had another canvas box hanging around... 5x5, I believe. I drove nails into the outside, and nailed a few extras on the bottom for feet, then filled it with spray foam. When that dried, I painted it dark blue to hide the crevices. I also made a last minute decision to make room for the egg while the foam was still wet and dug out the center with my fingers, and smeared it across the frame, and the nails, which did brilliant things in the long run, but in the very long run, oh dear no... Let me tell you.

Lesson Learned hardcore: The spray foam can says 3 important things: Shake well for 30 seconds. Point down. And wear protective gear- including goggles and gloves. Now, I don't wear goggles when working with spray foam unless I'm spraying something high up. And I don't usually wear gloves when I don't need to, and I didn't think I needed to, but then the urge struck me, and it was too late to go find gloves, and I just went at it. This is a HUGE mistake, because itdoesn't come off without mechanical workings, harsh chemicals, or lots of time. For one, it is VERY sticky, especially when you try to wash it off. I gauzed up my hand so I could go out of the house when I needed to, but my wonderful boyfriend helped me get as much of the stuff off as I could using rubbing alcohol. It got most of the sticky off, and anything left was masked pretty well with the lint from my hand towel. However, this lost me the use of my fingertips, in a manner of speaking. This is how I cracked my egg. I had it resting in front of me, and I tried to use my scalpel for whatever, and without fingerprints, my fingers had no traction, so the scalpel slipped from my gripless fingers, and crack! Somebody get the decoupage! Stat! So wear gloves when messing with this stuff, or your fingers will look like Giger Babies.

Anyway, when I finally got most of the use back in my fingertips, I coated the whole thing in my intended colour- pale, practically white, blue. Yes, I know my colour lingo. I continued working on it, and when I'd finished and walked away for a day, I decided to paint the exposed nails a rusty colour- a mix of red and blue that isn't really purple, but unmixed enough to make it look like a pretty oxidation.

After I finished adding the details- feathers, more dried baby's breath (which, by the way, is awful to work with, and probably won't last after a few tumbles), and a black feather with a trickle of red coming from its sprout; I had a decision to make. If this piece that is so stuffed with symbolism isn't obvious enough, should I put up a sign? Well, I thought the red trickle should lead somewhere, so I did put up a sign. I grabbed a piece of filigree and slapped a piece of paper with the word "innocence" scribed onto it.

Lesson learned: When painting the nails after I'd just glued in the egg, I realized I was tipping the thing all over the place, causing the egg to fall out at one point. If you don't wait for the glue to dry, at least acknowledge what pieces can't be turned over yet and take care.

And there you have it. My innocence... my tiny, tiny tooth, in it's little gilded shell, surrounded by this big box of complication.

The Forgotten Head of Ganesha

There are so many different stories of how the Hindu god Ganesha got his elephant head. The one that stuck with me, told to me by a friend named for him, was about how when Ganesha was born, questions of Shiva's paternity arose, and out of anger and jealousy, he lopped off the boy's head and replaced it with an elephant's head. At least, that's what I got out of the story.

But in most of the stories, there's nothing told about the original head. And I know you can't just chop off a god's head and be done with it. Being just a baby, that kind of alienation can be deadly. Whatever soul that was severed with the head must have rotted from that cast-off. So this is my homage to the abandoned infant.

I started with some bits I had lying around. Some random beads, and plastics, a tin lid, a canvas box, and a doll's head with a missing eye. I administered my childhood profession of dollie-lobotomy and let out its brain (and by that I mean spray-foam'd his noggin). I also slit the mouth open in case I wanted to put something in there later. I had a little cocktail umbrella coming out of the foam for a little while (you can see it in the background- that pink thing), but I decided against it when I decided to take the theme in a darker direction.

Things I learned at this point: When attaching the beads to the rim, don't attach the centerpiece yet, but turn it over and then do your gluing. The beads won't slip if they have a solid surface to lean on while the glue dries. And while it's turned over, you can attach any legs you want to the bottom.

When the foam dried (and even started peaking out of little openings like, behind the eye, out the mouth, and a little spot at the base of the neck), I carved it down (actual carving didn't achieve the look I was going for, so I just ripped into it with my nails). Then I adorned the crap out of the whole thing. Some baroque ornaments, beads and bead caps, some random metal and plastic bits, lots of nails, and shoved some loose chains into its mouth.

Lessons learned here: Just because it's stuck in there now, doesn't mean it'll stay there, and it should still be secured with glue (this doesn't apply as much when it's been devoured by still-growing foam).

The adorning process took some time. I stepped away and then back again a few times to keep my perspective fresh. When I finally finished putting the pieces together, I painted all the crevices black so they wouldn't show up under the next coat of paint.

When the black dried, I coated the whole thing in a dark red, then brushed the raised bits with a lighter red. Then after that dried, I coated most of the head in a bluish purplish colour, then let it sit for a little bit. Decided the chains should be more prominently coming out the mouth, so I trailed the purple all the way down the front. Then let it sit for a couple more days while I worked on a different piece. When I came back, I decided it needed a deeper blue 'round the top. So I painted half the face, and some of the raised bits, like the filigree accents and the bead caps.

And that's about it. This is how I got to the image you see at the beginning of this post, full of metal fire, and rage coming from being unwanted at birth.

Obligatory First Post

Glints of blue shine through my turd-brown eyes, and that can only mean one thing- the spice flows. Yes, once again, I have breathed new life into my creative spark and am inspired to create something new.

It started with a plethora of jewelry and then progressed to sculpture. I haven't sculpted (masks aside) since high school. And I'm not going about it the traditional way. I've always loved mixed media, and found art (so long as it's interesting) and have been very inspired by Michael deMeng and other altered curiosities.

So I've decided to make this blog about my progressions, my lessons learned, and my love for all things lost.