Glimpse

Becky New sent me copies of her new 'zine, Glimpse, about photography, art, and living a creative life. There are three issues so far, each one containing ideas, images, and a little clutch of cool journal fodder ready to use. 

You can go here to get a peek inside, and go here to order a copy. I really like her ideas for taking photographs--be sure to see what she's done with some she took at the junk yard--go here. Cool, huh?

A Coloring Book for Grown-Ups

If you're like me, there are times you just want to color, you know? You don't want to draw, and you don't want to have to think about what you're doing. You just want to make something colorful. When The EGE was working with juvenile delinquents, we discovered that it was really soothing to them to sit and color stuff, so he'd take rubber stamps and ink pads and a bunch of markers and pencils, and they'd stamp stuff and then very, very carefully color it in. We hunted for appropriate coloring books but could never find any beyond the ones they make for kids.

But look! Here's a coloring book for grown-ups, full of detailed drawings of women with lots of hair = excellent for long meditative sessions with your markers and colored pencils. Linda East created Wild-Haired Ladies with us in mind, and you can order a copy here, where you can also find out more about it.

Wardrobe Monday (& Sunday)

Brrr. It's gotten chilly here. 

So I needed a heavy coat, and I found one, purely by accident, on sale at Old Navy.  Now, this in an acrylic/wool blend, two materials I avoid in clothing, but the color! And the price! And the heavy warmness of it! It's large, so I can wear a BUNCH of layers under it (the Starbucks is alwaysalwaysalways cold, sometimes so cold that even OTHER people think it's cold~~so it's not always just me and The EGE sitting over there shivering)~~

First thing I did was to take off the tacky black plastic buttons and make these out of blank coverable buttons and dyed flannel: 

Anybody know how to get those wrinkles out of the back without taking it to the cleaners and having it pressed? They bother me, but this is the only coat they had besides an XXLarge. I know better than to attempt to iron it without supervision--I know cotton and linen, and I can hang with silk. But beyond that? Scary!


And I've got leg warmers, too--I'm prepared for the frigid winter of West Texas. It's only going to be in the 70's this weekend, so maybe I also need mittens~~

 So very festive with the table decorations!

 I love these colors together~~

 XO

PhotoCard: Too Much Familiarity Breeds Homicide

And your caption?

Thin Isn't a Bad Thing

I made a comment over the weekend about being thin, and the comments and notes I got in response really made me think about how we think about size and weight in our culture. Most of the people who commented on my comment interpreted "thin" to mean "underweight," and many of them immediately latched onto that and made the leap to anorexia, which is a whole nother thang. I've been thinking about this and wanted to say more, because it's important.


First off, we should always differentiate between anorexia, which comes from the Greek and means "lack of appetite," and anorexia nervosa, which is the disease we all think of when we hear the word "anorexia." The reason this distinction is important is that doctors, who do so love their terminology (for instance, the term "de novo" is used in talking about skin cancer that appears without having begun in an existing mole; while they could say "new," it's way more fun (and, they would argue, more precise) to hang with the Latin), will write "anorexia" on your chart if you go in for, say, the flu. Or depression. Or any of a number of things that have nothing to do with anorexia nervosa but that have somehow caused you not to have any appetite. I know this from dealing with my mother, who could lose her appetite at the drop of a hat. Distinctions are important. The distinction between anorexia nervosa and bulimia is important, too. For a short while in high school, I had some real issues with food and eating. I lost a lot of weight. I may have had undiagnosed anorexia nervosa. Who knows? But bulimia? God, no. Throwing up on purpose? I'd rather poke my eyeballs out with a hockey stick (almost impossible to do, you say? My point exactly.) Not all sufferers of anorexia nervosa also have bulimia.


So anorexia nervosa is a serious psychological problem, and it's not to be taken lightly. But everyone who is thin is not suffering from it. People who don't care about food are not by definition ill. Apparently, not caring much about food is so foreign to most people that ipso facto you must have a disease. And while it is seen as rude by almost everyone to make a comment to someone about how fat they are, it's perfectly acceptable, for some reason, to comment on how skinny someone is. My mother found this truly offensive, marveling at the things her co-workers said to her on an almost-daily basis, as if it were perfectly OK to comment on her size and her clothes, her appetite and her health. 


I've had people say to me, "My god, you're so skinny!" (and I'm not at all skinny compared to my mother), and I've wondered what the person would do if I were to respond, "And you're so fat!" I wouldn't dream of it (well, yeah, in a couple cases, I might dream of it), but they think nothing of it.


I don't mind. It doesn't bother me when people say I'm "skinny" because I don't see myself as being skinny, and my size is something I cultivate:  I work to make sure I don't gain weight for many reasons, not the least of which is based on my observations of my father's struggles with arthritis. I figure I'll be able to mobile longer if I have less weight to lift up out of the chair. Lord knows one of these is somewhere in my future, and they don't come in orange.


Back to the point, though:  thin does not mean pathologically underweight. Doctors refer to me as "thin," yet I'm solidly within the normal range for weight and BMI. Lots of people are thin without having any pathology involved, unless you're one of those people who believe that if you're not either thinking about food or consuming food every minute of every day, you're pathological. 


I talked with a man not too long ago about this very thing. He's thin, a vegetarian. He said he hardly ever thinks about food, that it just doesn't interest him. It comes way, way down at the bottom of the list.


I think about weight a lot because I know a lot of people--as do we all, in the 21st century--who are overweight, some extremely so. I care about them. I see them gaining more and more weight and listen as they list the drugs they're taking and the pain they have and the things that are wrong with their health. I see people I haven't seen in years and am amazed and saddened by what's happened to them:  they've gained an enormous amount of weight and don't even seem to be the same people:  they can't do the things they once did, they don't have the energy or enthusiasm they once had, they're plagued with all sorts of aches and pains. In just the last couple of weeks this has happened several times. All you can do is listen. 


In addition to it seeming to be OK to comment on thin people's size, it seems to be OK both to suggest that they must be suffering from some psychological problem and to believe that being "thin" means being underweight, emaciated, skeletal. It does not. Thin is just thin. And while there are groups that lobby for the rights of fat Americans, you don't ever hear about a group out there safeguarding the rights of the skinny people, trying to get public buildings to raise the temperature above "frigid" and put more padding on the chairs. Do I think there should be? Nah. That would be just one more thing to do battle over, and we have way, way more than enough of those things already. But here's something to keep in mind:


Thinness is not pathological. 

Let's Play!

What an excellent idea:  Annanova suggested we do alternate captions for the PhotoCards, and I love the idea~~I'll post the card with its original caption, and y'all can suggest as many alternates as you wish, the more snort-inducing, the better. Thanks, Annanova!


So here's another, just to get you started (feel free to go back and add captions to either of the first two, as well)~~

Here's "Sheila Admires Ralph's Cigar"

Have fun!

Today's PhotoCard: Queen Stephen

Or make that "The Queen Mum."

PhotoCards

For years and years, I bought every old photo I could find that might possibly be useful. Tons of them. Well, maybe not tons, but a lot, OK? Often when you buy these, you'll get a box or an album that will have some that are fabulous and some that are just not going to be good for much of anything but are not crappy enough to throw away. I put all of those in a box, and then one day--also years and years ago--I found them and started thinking about what the back stories might have been. Dark and creepy boyfriends, dysfunctional families, people with all kinds of secrets. I made myself laugh so much I printed out captions for the photos and made cards of them. 


So I found them the other day in a drawer here in the office studio, and I thought, "Well, I'll send them to people," and I started reading them all to The EGE. And laughed all over again. 


It seems kind of a shame to send each card to one person who may or may not think it's funny, but how to share them with a wider audience? Why, gee, Ricë, why not post them on your blog?


So that's what I plan to do:  post each of the cards here, one at a time. I hope to post one a day, but we'll see how that goes. There's no point to this. I'm not giving them away. I'm not selling them. I can't guarantee you'll find any of them a quarter as amusing as I do, but I hope so--I hope some of them make you laugh until you snort. 


First, though, I need some help. I have not the best Scanner Karma in the world, for reasons I cannot comprehend, and I'm not sure if I'm scanned this in at the best settings--the scanner says so, but I don't always believe what it tells me. Which could explain the not-so-great Scanner Karma.


So before I spend hours of my little life scanning and saving all these cards, would you take a look at this first one and tell me if you can actually see it? Can you read the caption? Now, keep in mind that it's printed out in a funky Old Typewriter font, and there's nothing I can do about that--it's done and finished. But I do want them to be clear enough for snort-inducing perusal, should you so desire. So let me know, please--OK? (You can click to see this full-sized, which is considerably larger, should you wish to.)


And here for your leisure-time entertainment is "Tequila Night":

Writing for Publication: Another Side of It

After that long involved explanation yesterday, I feel I need to add this about artists writing about their art. If you're an artist and you have an opportunity to write about what you do for a magazine but are told there's no pay, should you do it?


Absolutely.


Now, you're going, "Waaaait a minute! Yesterday you said writers shouldn't write for free!"


Yes, indeed. I did say that. And I meant it:  if you're a writer, and that's what you want to do with your life, you should not write for free. But:  if you're an artist, and you are offered an opportunity to write about your art for publication but won't be paid?  That's a whole nother thang, and I think you should do it. And do it again. And if you're really workin' it and you're offered a chance to write a book, but there's not a lot of money involved and the advance pretty much sucks, should you do it? Absolutely. Ab-so-lute-ly.


How come? Because the way to look at it is like this:  you write about your artwork for magazine XYZ. You send them a carefully-packed box of that artwork, which they photograph and use to illustrate what you wrote. You don't get paid. What you do get, however, is a professionally photographed, printed-on-nice-paper, designed and printed by someone else high-quality advertisement for you and your work. You can buy as many copies of this as you want for 50% off the retail price, and then you can sell these (full-price, so you're making a little money) at your booth and on your blog and website and anywhere else you want. You can give them as gifts, send them gloatingly to former boyfriends, tear out pages and frame them. You get this wonderful spread showing your work in its best light for minimal effort on your part--certainly minimal when compared to what you'd have to go through to produce it on your own.


There's no downside to this. Sure, you're not getting paid. You could argue that the publications are taking advantage of you because they're making money off you, but stop and think about it: where else can you get this kind of marketing of your work, well-done, free, and available to you to use to make money on your own? Nowhere that I know of. Sure, there are online things you can do, but real, hold-in-your-hands, show-your-kids stuff?


Not to mention that other people--gallery owners, retreat organizers, agents, all those people--see these magazines and books. If you want to get seen, it can't hurt.


So, yeah, I think you should do it. It won't help get you rich, but it sure does get your work out there, and if that's your goal, what's stopping you?

Wardrobe Someday: The Dress-Lets

OK, The Story:  back when I was subbing, those 16 years of education in every sense of the word, I had a standard sort of a wardrobe. I found a dress pattern that was easy, and the dress was long, loose, and comfortable. Now, as some of you maybe already know, I tend to get just the teeniest bit obsessed with things. And I became obsessed with this dress. First I altered the pattern to make it longer. Then I lengthened the sleeves and lowered the waist. I altered the neckline. I made the pockets bigger.


And then I made 50 of these dresses. Yeah, that's what I meant:  fifty. Over four dozen. All made just alike. 


I made a dress like this out of every fabric that caught my fancy. This was before I learned to dye fabric, so I was stuck with commercial stuff. I made dresses out of fabric that would send me screaming into the woods today, but at the time, I found it amusing to have a herd of black-and-white cows on a red background. Or a dress covered with watermelons. Astrological signs in gold on purple. And also on blue! 


And flowers. Lots and lots of floral prints.


My god. I have no idea what I was thinking with some of these. When I came to my senses--when the obsession waned a little--I started jettisoning many of these. I gave them to anyone who could wear them. And since they're not exactly fitted, that included lots of people, even pregnant ones. Some I took to Goodwill.


Others, the ones I still liked, I cut off and made into gowns to sleep in in the summer, cutting off the sleeves and the hem and, in some cases, lowering the neck.


This is what they used to look like--this is the version with the lower neck; the other one had a higher one I came to loathe.

Recently I decided these would be fabulous over jeans. Or leggings. And so I got out the few I had left and altered them once again, making them even shorter and edging the neck and armholes in bias tape. Here are two I've finished, shown in New Orleans last month:

And then I decided I'd use up some of my fabric stash and make some more in colors I really like. Here's the first of those, from Friday:

 In looking at these, I can see that the length is the key. The ones I wore in New Orleans are going to have to be shortened some more. They're still too bulky. This last one works for me. I love having extra color, it's got huge pockets, and--very, very important!--it's another layer to help keep me warm. The coolest thing is I have enough fabric, bought on sale years ago, to make eight--count 'em, 8!--more. 


And, thankyoujesus, no animal prints anywhere to be seen~~

How I Got My Job

I've written about this before, but I get asked about it and think it's important enough to revisit. People want to know how you get a job as cool as mine, and I'm happy to tell them. First, though, I always tell them that if they're thinking this is the kind of job that allows you to quit your day job and live in luxury for the rest of your life, you've been watching way, way too many old episodes of Sex in the City, where Carrie appears to do nothing much at all except turn in a column about sex every once in a while and then spend the rest of the time having sex, shopping, and going to clubs.


I've been writing for publication for 20 years, and I can guarantee you that unless you land a really lucrative gig, you're going to have to have another source of income. If I didn't, I'd be sitting in line to sign up for social services. I haven't had a raise, ever. I don't have health insurance, I don't get bonuses or incentive pay. I have no retirement or 401K. So, in short, you don't do this for the money.


On the other hand, you don't do it for free, either. I've ranted about this numerous times, so I'm not going to do it again now, but I'll say this: I do not support people who write for free for publication. Professional writers don't write for free unless they're doing it as a charitable gig, and major magazines don't qualify as charities. Barring charitable stuff, dentists don't fill cavities for free, lawyers don't argue cases for free, teachers don't teach for free. Why is it that writers and photographers and artists are expected to do what they do for free? If you don't charge for your work, you're not taking it seriously. If you're not taking it seriously, you're not working to improve, learn, hone your skills. If you're not doing those things, you're dabbling, doing it as a lark.


Writing is one of those things that you can do as a lark, but if you want to do it well, you don't ever think of it that way. You think of writing as a craft, a skill, a thing of joy and beauty. Writing can teach, inspire, infuriate. It can move people to tears or to action. It can start revolutions and it can mend hearts. Done well, it is one of the most powerful forces on earth. Done poorly, it sucks.


I have been writing since my daddy taught me to print when I was five. I've written poems, stories, essays, reports, newspaper articles, profiles, research papers, a thesis, obituaries, artist statements. In college I wrote other people's papers for pay; looking back on this, from the perspective of having gone on to teach the classes for which I had written those papers, I see this as having been very, very wrong. But at the time, it made sense:  it was easy for me, and I needed the money, since my parents thought $50 was plenty for a college freshman. I didn't do it very often, and I never offered to do it--it was always someone pleading with me. Seriously! Yes, this is my justification, but it's also true.


In college, I took every writing class I could find. In graduate school, I majored and minored in English:  you could specialize in creative writing, language and literature, literary criticism, composition and rhetoric, or technical writing. I specialized in all of them except technical writing, and I had so many hours left over that they let me use them as my minor, and I had so many left over after that that I had some that didn't count as anything--yes:  I took courses in college for which I got no credit at all, but I couldn't bear not to take them.


I loved English and writing that much.


I have had jobs teaching English, tutoring in English, writing for a newspaper. I've had a lot of other jobs, too, but the ones where I got to write were always the ones I loved.


I started writing for magazines when I discovered rubber stamping, back in 1990, and read Rubberstampmadness and fell in love with its funky newsprint format and the idea that here was a whole publication devoted to something fun. I was teaching college English at the time, and I thought the magazine needed some copy-editing help--the writing was interesting, but it wasn't particularly well done. This is not saying anything about the magazine; few magazines have someone to copy edit who actually knows and loves the language. They just don't. It says a lot about my ego, I am sure.


So I decided to write for them, and the rest is the first key:  the first thing I did was to order every single available back issue and read them all, cover to cover.  I have done this with all the magazines I wanted to write for. Granted, I didn't do this with Cat Fancy, and that's telling:  I wrote an article for Cat Fancy but immediately thereafter, with the second assignment, realized that researching topics that had already been covered time and time again and trying to find a new angle was way, way too much like writing a research paper about, oh, say, Frost's use of the demotic. Shakespeare's sonnets and the identity of the young man. Stuff like that that had been written about over. And over. And over. 


I wanted to write about things I found interesting. And when I began writing about them, I did the research. I knew how to do this--I'd taken a course on magazine writing in college (I took courses on LOTS of stuff in college--I took a course in geology just because I wanted to study dinosaurs). If you want to write for a magazine, you find out about it--its focus, its goal, its audience. You read as many issues as you can.


I've written many times about how I started writing for Stampington, but I get asked, so here it is:  I got a call from an editor for Rockport offering me a chance to write a book on rubber stamping. They'd offered it to someone else who didn't want to do it and had suggested me. I didn't want to do it, either, but I wanted to do a book on altered artwear, and I agreed to do the stamping book if they'd next consider the book I really wanted to do. First, though, I had to check with Sharilyn Miller:  she had written the two previous books in the series of stamping books for Rockport, and I wanted to know why she wasn't doing #3. I called her and asked her; I told her that if she had wanted to do it and hadn't been allowed to do it, I wasn't going to accept their offer. She said no, she had moved to North Light Books and was very happy (and suggested I make that move at the earliest opportunity, which I found to be excellent advice), and she gave me her blessing. This is the second key: I didn't step on toes and I didn't try to climb over people to get something I wanted. I approached it with good karma in mind:  I didn't want to write a book that should have been written by someone else, making them miserable and making me an opportunist.


As this phone conversation ended, Sharilyn said, "Oh, by the way, we're starting a new magazine, and I don't have time to keep writing the artist profiles [which she loved doing]. Would you be interested?" I said yes, and that's how I started working for Stampington:  because I wanted good karma. 


See how it works? If I'd said, "Oh, sure, I'll write it! Screw anyone else who might have felt it should have been theirs!" that would have been the end of it: I'd have written a book or two, and that would have been that. I'd still be subbing, and people would think of me as the Woman Who Will Screw You.


The third key:  I've always treated writing as a job I take seriously. I don't miss deadlines, I do my own copy-editing, I study, I read, I keep up with what's going on in the field I want to write about. I read writers who do good work--I read the "Best of" compilations each year--the best travel writing, the best essays, the best science and nature writing. These are magazine pieces by various writers that have been chosen as being the best of those published in any given year. I read O Magazine, because Oprah hires talent. I read books by people whose writing I admire, even if those books are often about subjects in which I have no interest. I read the competition--if there's someone writing about mixed media artists, I'm reading them. 


Another thing to keep in mind:  if you're writing for someone else, the writing is not about you. There's that whole branding thing, where people believe that everything they do and say and think and show has to reinforce their brand. If you're writing about Person X, your brand had better not be all over the piece, or you've failed to do your job. Your job is not to write in your quirky, idiosyncratic style, but to write in a style that supports the subject. I know I've done my job well when I get a note from someone telling me they loved my article in XYZ magazine and want to know more about how I created the piece on page 12. I read the letters to the editors, and when I see one raving about how wonderful Person X is, I know I've done my job:  they didn't say how wonderfully I wrote about Person X; it's Person X they loved. That's what I'm paid to do. 


I've been doing this for 20 years. I'm 54. I never stop learning. When I think I know it all, have done it all, am the expert on everything--then it will be time for me to quit and do something else. If I'm not learning and discovering new stuff, what's the point? If I can't pick up a magazine and read my work in print and find something I wish I'd done a little differently, then I'm just coasting.


My job in writing about artists is this:  to read what I can find about them--in the early years, when blogs were new and artists were just beginning to keep them, I'd go back and read every. single. blog post. before I ever talked to the person. These days, of course, that's impossible. But I read recent stuff. I ask questions. I listen. And I try to get a sense of who the person is, why they do what they do, what their hopes and dreams and goals are. What drives them? What do they care about? 


I don't play gotcha, where I get someone to tell me something and then use it to make them sound silly or stupid or venal. I know many things that I never tell anyone. You have to know how to listen--not the kind of listening where you're just waiting to tell your own story or ask another question, but the kind of listening where you're really, really hearing what they say. It's why I do interviews on the phone and never in person: I need to sit in a room by myself, with my eyes closed, to hear what they're saying. You listen, and you know what to use and what to throw away. 


So here's my advice to anyone who wants to do what I do:
1) Don't expect to make a living at it. You'd better have another source of income.
2)  Do your research. Know the publication for which you want to write. If you can't describe the tone and focus and audience of the publication, you're not ready to pitch an idea.
3)  Be professional. Turn your work in on time, as polished as you can make it, and then be prepared to have someone else cut it and change it and make it what they need it to be without you having your ego tied up in it. You do the work and turn it over, and that's it. 


But the main thing? The thing that matters above all else? Be a writer. If you're not a writer to your very core, what's the point? We've all read tons of stuff by people who wrote it just to get published or just to see their name in print or to further their brand or to try their hand at it. But their heart's not in it, and it shows. I know I'm supposed to encourage everyone to give it a try, but I can't:  I love the written word way, way too much to love seeing it mangled and dissed by people who clepped out of freshman comp and never took an advanced comp course and have no idea why "lay" and "lie" aren't the same. I had an editor long ago--not any of my current editors!--whose erroneous ideas about punctuation literally made me feel like crying. If you're not compelled to write, if you don't love the act of making words mean something to someone else, if you haven't written anything in years and are just wondering if maybe it might be something you'd like to do, it's probably not your calling.


NOTE: Now, I'm not talking here about writing about your art--if you're asked to write an article about your work for a magazine or asked to write a book about what you do. I'm not talking about that--if you're asked to write about what you do, go for it. I want you to go for it. My editors want you to go for it! We ALL want you to go for it, and I'm not about to discourage you from that.


No. Here I'm talking about something completely different from that. What I'm talking about here is doing what I do:  writing for a living, writing about other people and other things that are not my work. And that's a whole nother thang, requiring a whole nother skill set than is required for writing about yourself and your own stuff. I am NOT talking about being an artist writing about what you do. I'm talking about being a writer who writes.


You know if you're a writer. If you haven't written anything in years, you're not a writer. Writers can't not write, and if you've gone years without being compelled to do it, what's up with that? If you're a reader, you don't go years without reading a book. Why would you? Same with writing. You write because it's what you do. You can't imagine not doing it. 


I write every day. I write here, on my blog. I write in my notebook. I have files on the computers with essays, whole huge chunks of novels (hundreds of pages), the beginnings of books I want to propose. Books, 'zines, essays, emails. Notes on the iPhone (WriteRoom is fabulous for that). I write tweets in part as an exercise in forcing myself to stay within the confines of 140 characters. It's better than thesaurus-diving to force your brain to come up with synonyms, and I highly recommend it. I have written villanelles and sonnets because they're excellent practice in working with language.


Beyond my love of writing, or tied into it, is what I believe is my purpose (what I have to call My Special Purpose and then snort happily at my The Jerk reference, which makes me insanely happy): as a mixed-media matchmaker. What I'm supposed to do is to help people in the mixed-media world find each other. Artists and editors, artists and galleries, readers and writers and publishers and students. I like putting people together, helping them find each other, making the introductions. I think of it as weaving a web--I've said that before, many times. 


So. That's how I got my job. I believe it's the way to go about finding any work you were meant to do and then getting that work:  study, learn all you can, hone your skills and practice them every day. Never stop learning and trying to improve. Be nice. Don't take advantage of other people. Make the connections. Never for one moment think "work" is a bad thing. 


I think when people ask how I got my job, they want me to tell them I was hanging around somewhere, and someone offered me a really cool job. We like that story about the actress sitting at a soda fountain, just hanging out and minding her own business and suddenly being touched by Luck & Magic and being transported into a fantasy dreamworld of fame and fortune. In Real Life, it's hardly ever like that. It's almost always about work, about figuring out what you want to do and then getting as good at doing it as you can. Read my profile of Jesse Reno--I'm not saying that like it's such a fabulous profile it will show you how to write. No: I'm saying read about what Jesse did when he decided that painting was what he was meant to do. He didn't start out trying to find someone to make him famous, did he? No. He started out by painting. And painting. And painting some more. It was when he had so many paintings in his house that he needed to get them out and make room for more--that's when he started offering them for sale. That's what you do. You work. 


If you love what you do, work is one of the most wonderful things in the world. 

Whew. I'm done. I have nothing else to say, and aren't we all glad? XO

Saturday Morning

Somerset Studio and Artful Blogging

And the last give-away package, one I wouldn't be able to resist myself. First, there's the Nov/Dec/Jan 2011 issue of Artful Blogging:

And then we've got the November/December 2010 issue of Somerset Studio, 

with my profile of the fabulous Jesse Reno:

 

and more:

 free artist paper:

and  a piece about the 1000 Journals project and video:

Post a comment--points for being creative!--and be SURE to check back next Friday!


Good luck--

Art Doll Quarterly Give-Away

This one is all by itself: the November/December/January issue of Art Doll Quarterly, which includes my profile of Jane DesRosier:

and more:

 Post a comment and check back next Friday. Good luck!