26 April 2009

Forgotten Yet Found

I was out of town last weekend in southeastern Oklahoma around a lovely huge lake. I brought photographs of a few things I loved. I am personally obsessed with rust. It could be called patina which is a lovely word. My own face exhibits the patina of joy and time. Sounds good, but plain ol' rust is so beautiful, broken down and virulent.

'Round here we call this fence bob ware. I thought it was a man's name for a while, from Steinbeck, his horse was named Doxology. Look at this chaos of vines blossoming freely around this bob ware fence.

Patina is the natural progression of red paint, weather and time.

This is like the ink blot test. I see a butterfly.

This was near an all-but-abandoned trailer. Dear iris still push through, unattended. A bird bath perches on this rock, dry but unmoved.

The enormous rock beside the road is the size of a box van. In the center lies a perfect fossil of a fish. No doubt it swam in salt water right in the big 'ol dry middle of Oklahoma.

I call this "consumption."

What was built by man, let nature put asunder...

20 April 2009

Magpie of April

I recently found this lovely scales seen in the photo above along with those old glass flower earrings. You probably think I will talk about finding balance in my life. Actually the rust is always more interesting than the shine so I thought I would mention that I am a voyeur. I have been one as long as I can remember. I used to look at people while shopping and want to know what was in their bag. I would look at the ladies purses in church and wonder what kind of lipstick might be inside. I have always looked at people's shopping carts and put together a whole story, single, going home to have frozen pizza and ice cream. Mom with a baby and a child's birthday. I started this as I was checking out late one Friday night with Doritos, Oreos and a feminine hygiene product.

I walk my dog after dark hoping to glimpse inside someone's house. During movies I am more likely to look at the drapes than the actor. At the Lourve I noticed the frames rather than the paintings. My name is Robin, I am a voyeur.

In this twittering world of the Internet you can look at people's profiles, pictures and posts. You can sit alone and read, snickering at their spelling, longing for that artwork or the stroll followed by an impromptu picnic. I absolutely love when people post a blog about what they have bought. That is my melange of voyeuristic treats. In that tradition, I will show you what I have collected this month.

I almost always pick up books, new or old. They don't take up much room, have inherent value, look fabulous in the home and as a by-product make you look studious, which I actually am, so that is some truth in advertising. In other words the carpet matches the drapes. Look at the color plate in this one. Chills, honey.

I also collect anything Oklahoma, that is a whole other topic of discussion but here is a Gene Autry book. Oklahoma's yodeling cowboy as if you didn't know...

One can never go wrong with jewelry. If I am to follow the tradition of other blogs I would now say 'you never where where in my work these might turn up.' But the truth is I will probably just leave them in this cigar box only to occasionally run my fingertip across the pieces whilst saying "shiny."

Jewelry doesn't take up much room like, say, if you were to collect chairs. Yeah, well, I collect chairs. Children's chairs, not like sectionals. A ladder is useful as well.

Also I haul home doll chairs since I make dolls. However, I rarely sit my dolls in my chairs, because then you can't see the chairs. There's a good plan.

I compulsively collect utensils. I just do. My dolls often hold them. And that makes sense to me.

So just as you are looking at this, I will be somewhere watching, surfing, jeering, wondering what is in that house, cabinet, closet, purse, wallet, mind....

14 April 2009

Nest Building: Waste Management

Thought I would start with a series of interiors around my home with a focus on the bathroom. I am starting with the bathroom for several reasons which I should not have to list simply because you own a bladder and most of you have a colon and therefore understand the beauty of indoor plumbing, the act of the flush. Oh and hot water, lawdy, I love hot water.

A couple of years ago I placed my cheesy but cheery! fake egg wreath on the front door when I noticed a dear sparrow building her nest. All use of the front door was banned during the two months it took her to build, lay and rear her clutch. We watched and counted eggs.

We marveled at the little tender hatchlings that would make even a mother regurgitate her bolus.

Quickly the nestlings grew with all those good mama's meals. I became fascinated by the instinct the birdies had to eliminate wastes. As a zoology instructor I can say a lot about bird waste, however I never thought about waste accumulation and nesting.

The wee birds, only days old, turn around in what is a very cramped space and excrete off the edge of the nest. I was thrilled by this discovery. How beautiful is it they instinctively avoid toxic waste build up? Biology has always been my best church.

So with homage to the great outhouse designer in the sky, I present some bathroom images from my own nest. Yes, I am going to keep up the pithy avian references.

A place to sit.

Means to flush.

Handles to grasp.

To draw a bath.

Scents to employ.

A view to enjoy.

Mirror, mirror on the wall.

The most beautiful bathroom of all.

I know where the caged bird pees...

06 April 2009


Perhaps I am naturally drawn to birds, maybe it is because I have an undergraduate degree in Zoology or have taught zoology, or I am named Robin or am fascinated with ovaries...whatever the reason, I have always been intrigued by eggs and drawn to ovals. My china even bears an oval filled, of course, with flowers.

Many of the fabulous blogs I follow are including chick pictures, nests and such for this time of the year and of course the Easter holiday. The egg is my focal point now and here is my parade of some...

Here is an egg I made on a pillow above the word 'nest' one of my favorite words...

In my shell pink milk glass goblet, sits an egg...

which nests....

More I have made...

And old German egg by my robins which shake salt and pepper ...

A needlepoint pillow from my mother....

Like the potential of an egg, here is a gift from my mother, a Martha Stewart tin with sets of soaps in egg shapes. It was packaged so beautifully I could not bear to open it. I miss her catalog...

The front door...

Here is to spring...

02 April 2009

World Autism Awareness Day

This day 2 April is World Autism Awareness Day. http://www.worldautismawarenessday.org/site/c.egLMI2ODKpF/b.3917065/k.BE58/Home.htm

Because autism is so prevalent, many of you are aware of it already, daily, often painfully. Many of you are unaware of the quiet struggle that this and other related challenges bring.

My sweet brother Kerry. Once diagnosed with severe mental retardation, at a certain point his diagnosis changed to autism. He doesn't speak. He has never said my name. He doesn't acknowledge hello or good bye. He lives in a community with others with severe disabilities. There is so much he cannot do.

What he can do is enjoy a meal. He loves meals and sweets. He can enjoy his rest. He dutifully puts on pajamas and sleeps with reckless abandon. He has a job and works 32 hours per week at a recycling plant because he is able to focus for long periods on repetitive tasks. This trait I definitely share with him. He uses the money he earns to buy Diet Coke which he slurps with joy.

He does not complain about work. He does not complain about his hair. He does not complain about his weight. He doesn't care what car you drive, where you live or that his shirt says "Polo." He does not know there are people who receive millions of dollars to stay at a job they are doing poorly. He does not know the hunger and rapes and abuse throughout this world. He does not know the oceans are full of plastic that we keep throwing away like it doesn't matter.

He doesn't know people recklessly use the word "retarded" to describe stupid or ugly. But I do. He cannot say "don't use the "r" word. But I can.

Here is to Kerry and a brain he could not use at his own will. And to you who can.
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