Friday, March 26, 2010


So Baba Yaga's house (Feverishly possessed by images of witch hunts they set aflame the cabin in the woods-misunderstanding that the threat was only metaphorical- and the blaze quickly spread travelling on the wings of fleeing moths. There were no survivors.
AKA Hey little bird, fly away home, your house is on fire, your children are alone.
) is more or less done (I still have to make some kind of a base for it. It's awfully precarious.) Here it is in all its miniature glory:

Writing has been taking up most of my studio time these days, and I've got the bones done of the short story that serves as the narrative background for these characters in my performance Maidens, Spindles, and Mother-Of -All:

Here's a little sample (it is about children arsonists)
Windows popped and broke in small explosions. Curtains were eaten in an instant leaving the plastic rods to melt and contort in a flash of colour before becoming indiscernible amongst the rubble. Sparks and hisses snuck around every corner as objects were touched for the last time and forgotten. One hundred year old sheet music curled into submissive ashes. Recipe cards boasting the world’s best baked goods lost their confidence and fizzled into nothing. Porcelain heirlooms blackened and suffocated and dusty volumes crumbled along with their precarious shelves no longer able to stoically bear the load.
[ they ate at night- filling their dry papery bellies with fibres from his ancient wardrobe. From their post in the closet they spied a beautiful light flickering and licking the baseboards and the doorway. Some younger moths succumbed to lust and went to investigate. One kiss from the flames was all it took for their wings to collapse in a pile of ashes. Witnessing this the others took action. They quickly concluded that the light have somehow escaped and was furious at the moths. And now it was taking names and kicking ass.
They worked together to find the darkest thickest sweater in the closet and inside it they would hide. Yet as the fire grew, it grew to engulf the closet too, it did not discriminate. From the very moment the house caught fire they’d never had a moment to flee alive. It must have been someone’s idea of a very cruel joke.]
It began with the youngest. She felt the dryness creeping up her airway. In an ugly cough three white moths escaped from her mouth.

Friday, March 19, 2010


I come from a rich history of pack rats and collectors, and if you've ever seen my house its clear that I am carrying on that tradition. There is something very enticing to me about collecting, I think in this conscious act of deciding what to pick up, what to keep and what to throw away and how to organize it there's an interesting narrative about our lives. It could be our conscious and unconscious minds working in tandem to guide us toward something.

One of my more famous collections is of broken/smooshed eyeglasses or sunglasses. I have upwards of fifty pairs now and people I know have become my collecting mignons- I actually rarely find pairs of them myself anymore, but every few weeks, my sisters or friends hand over a pile of their own findings.

And admittedly it began almost out of spite- I was walking through a parking lot with my Dad and I saw something shiny on the ground, so I picked it up. He said- Oh its just a piece of garbage, throw it away. But it was a perfectly flattened pair of eyeglasses- and I decided to keep them.

But its something I think about, when I find a pair of glasses- has the universe lead me to them? Is it just a coincidence? Is it an Omen? Will I ever just stop finding them?

Someday I'll find something to do with them all, but this is prologue to something that happened yesterday- Bear with me.
I have an old deck of Tarot Cards- 1JJ Swiss Cards infact- the two J's stand for Jupiter and Junon and since this deck was first published in 1831 (my deck is a re-issue from what date I'm not sure, they were hand-me-downs) Jupiter and Junon replaced the Pope and The Popess in the deck so as not to upset the Catholic Church. Anyways the cards are stunning- I don't read tarot (partly because the deck is missing cards) but I often flip through and look at the illustrations. The Justice Card from this deck I had tattooed on my left arm.

These cards are quite special, I've never seen another copy of this deck, and they are quite unique in the illustrations. The backs of the cards are just a beige plaid pattern and so as I walked down King street yesterday, almost outside the Mies Van Der Roe TD Centre, I picked up the card lying in front of me- face down- displaying that familar pattern.

The Card I picked up was L'Imperatrice the Empress. When I got home I flipped through my deck- this was one of the cards I didn't have. Then I looked at the suggested interpretations for this card: Action, Development, Progress, Fruitfulness, Fertility. - Bingo!

So this is really exciting for me.
First- Finding a tarot card- awesomely omnious, I don't read tarot but I do have a strong connection to it. I feel that a tarot reading by someone you know can be a good way not to predict the future (though if you break it down its really just an examination of cause and effect) but to assess the path you are on, and be conscious of where that road can lead you (it's really quite rational).

Second- Finding a tarot card on a busy street that I rarely walk down

Third- Finding a tarot card from the deck that I have- and have an image from permanently on my arm- which I have never seen anywhere else.

and Finally- Finding a tarot card which my deck is missing! The interpretation of which falls in step with the current phase of my major project at the moment.
So collecting could be a way for our unconscious mind to say- hey you need this! It will show you something or teach you something you should know. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into this (but I don't think so.)

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

I am the Lord of Hellfire and I Bring you....


I must say that the spring sun really illuminates this piece something magical. So she's ablaze and about half of the moths are in place. The burnt shards of the last two walls still need to go up and the chicken legs need some Physio. But its getting there! Hey, making little things is fun! I don't have to think about what I have to move/throw out just to store it! And it fits in a box! And I can carry it by myself!

How exciting! This will not last for long....