Juicy Juicy Juicy
Tag: art
Valentinery
It has been my tradition since I was 16 to make valentines for the important people in my life. I don’t buy them from Target, I don’t email a hilarious Oatmeal comic (though they are awesome!)… I sit my ass down and use my brain to produce a little piece of artwork designed purely for the joy of making someone I care about feel like they are known and understood. Appreciated. Loved.
This annual endeavor was inspired by an afternoon visit to a childhood friend’s house. Her father was an artist, a sculptor by trade, from France… the most romantic of career choices. As we wandered upstairs to her room, I noticed that the hallway was lined with cards that her father had given her mother, I believe they were Christmas cards… but this was a long long time ago so I scarcely remember any details. Only that they were so sweet, hand drawn, crafted to embolden their affection. A spark grew from those cards, to turn my reverence for the people in my life into tangible relics.
Why Valentine’s Day? I mean really, what a commercial… materialistic… disheartening charade of lovey dovey bullshit. Certainly ANY other day would due.. or maybe, every day should be a day to celebrate one’s devotion to saying ‘thank you for making me feel wonderful.’ I hear that one a lot, that I every single day is a chance to be grateful.. and that is a lovely idea. Honestly, I’m not grateful every day. Some days I am barely capable of brushing my own teeth properly, let alone flossing or adequately expressing my deep reverence for other human beings. Please don’t tell my dentist about the flossing thing, that is a lie I intend to perpetuate forever.
I make pretty things to show I care. People have convinced me that I need to start documenting them. So, I took a few pictures of the 20+ I mailed out this year. I didn’t bring many art supplies to Minneapolis, so they are rather simple in construction. Just black card stock, and Prismacolor doodles, with a side of calligraphy… and glitter. I maintain that a proper Valentine must have glitter. Somewhere. In some capacity, as to transfer your love like a despicable carpet virus; just when you think you’ve vacuumed it all up… a glimmer always remains… like the herpes of craft supplies. Enjoy!
If you’re wondering why I waited so long to post this blog, it’s because I had to wait for people to receive them before posting everything. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.
PS. If you don’t see your valentine in my crazy picture parade, it’s likely that I forgot to take a picture before it was sent out. This happens when you are trying to keep track of a lot of cards and get them all in the mail in time to arrive at or before Feb. 14th. Hooray!
It’s so cold, I wanna die
Reporting from Minneapolis, Minnesota… and for the first time in weeks, the temperature is promising to rise above 10 degrees today. We could even get to the mid-twenties this week! HEATWAVE!
..but seriously, I’m not sure how people around here cope with the searingly cold temperatures. My inclination to leave the perfectly acclimatized 70ish degree haven of this ridiculous mansion has fallen away. I’m content to snuggles cats and devolve into a depressed state watching Making a Murderer.
Luckily, people have lured me out of the apartment on a few instances with promises of beautiful sites/sights;
Wandering through the various exhibits, I was impressed by the scale of some of the works. Feeling dwarfed by pieces that are meant to captivate is one of the few sure-fire suppliers of goosebumps. 09-11-2001 by Jack Whitten had the desired affect.
Yves Klein “Mondo Cane Shroud (1961)
Jack Whitten
Victor Moscoso
If you are as intrigued by the Yves Klein blue bodies as I was… yes, real ladies painted blue were used to get the proper silhouettes. Looks like a hoot.
It’s impressive how closely the azure paint matches the true color of the blue sky.
There are a plethora of pure white and black squirrels in Loring. I’m seriously considering grabbing that little guy and bringing him home. I know it’s not legal, and he would be ‘wild’ or whatever… but I would have a wee black squirrel. *Squee*
I still have a list of things I need to do… but I think I’ll wait until it warms up… to not so cold I want to impale myself on an icicle.
Get Your Pige-ON/ Midge the Pidge
I come from a family that believes you have a moral obligation to help an animal in need. Which has lead to some pretty interesting experiences; my mom nursing an injured wild turkey back to health, a crow using a boyfriend’s sweatshirt as a toilet, and my dad being sprayed by adolescent skunks trapped in various places… more than once… the local vet doesn’t even keep track of the names of the cats my parents bring in anymore, instead filing them all under ‘Stray Cat Hutson.’
This is all just set-up to make my next story seem a little less odd.
One fine Spring day, my brother came home to find a pigeon in his yard. Not so weird really, pigeon are a ubiquitous bird buddy found almost anywhere these days. She appeared to be fine until he noticed that she was just milling around, and didn’t take off when he got a little close for comfort. After some rather unscientific tests, he determined she couldn’t fly. With a possible injury, and without proper shrub cover in his yard, she was certain to be kitty chow by morning. Bound by the Hutson Code of Animal Friendship he went inside and rustled up a cat carrier and an old blanket and some water. Dubbed ‘Midge the Pidge’ she happily slept on his porch that night, protected.
Midge lived a good life for the next few weeks. My brother found some proper pigeon food, cleaned her kitty enclosure often, and even contacted a friend with a flock (yep, a legit pigeon flock) to take her in… but before introducing her, she would need to be quarantined with my brother for a while to determine if she was ill.
I enjoyed the weekly updates from my mom in the Midge the Pidge section of our phone calls. Things were going well for the lucky little pigeon… But that’s where the story ends. Someone took it upon themselves to open the kitty crate and release/take her from my brother’s porch. He just came home to find she was gone.
Now, I will never know what happened to Midge. Hopefully she was well enough to get to safety. I like to think that she was healthy enough to fly again and is off having the greatest of adventures… laughing at the guy who was honor bound to be a pigeon dad for a few weeks. Enjoy the doodle in her honor.
PS. Here’s a snappy link to care for an injured or exhausted pigeon in need.
jennahutson.com 