How to Clean a Bone

If you happen to find a bone . . . first - OFFER IT TO ME.


But let's pretend you want to keep your bone. It probably needs a bit of cleaning. Most people think they should boil or bleach it. STOP. Both of those methods are bad for your bone. Here's all you need to do:

1. Remove as much remaining animal matter as possible.

This little bone is pretty clean, but still needs a bit of work.

2. Place the bone in water; leave it in a warm spot.

Beware of two things:  a.) It can get smelly, so you don't want it on top of your refrigerator. b.) It can get smelly, so if you leave it outside some other animal may decide it's a tasty treat.

3. Replace with fresh water often. Keep changing the water until it stays clear.

Beware of one thing: sometimes teeth fall out during this process so be careful when you dump that water. Teeth are the best part and you don't want to lose them.

This is my student's super cool dog skull. It's just about ready.

4. When the water stays clear, it's time to submerge it in hydrogen peroxide. (Bleach will make your bone brittle.) Leave it in the hydrogen peroxide until it's the desired whiteness.

5. Now it should be clean and white, and ready for anything. Even some gold leaf.

"Corpus Delicti, Cat Skull"

Art Postcard (or is that Art Card Post)

Remember these?
They came in a little gift bag, given to me by a student.

Today I rummaged through the bag to help me make this.

It's a post card for LA-Artist.com.

They send you a post card; you create a little piece of art;

you stick a stamp on it; you mail it back to them.

Open to anyone who calls themself an artist in L.A.

(I know "themself" isn't a word, but I'm still using it.)

The Pet Post

Ok. I know this blog is supposed to be about the teaching/mentoring side of my life. But everyone else seems to have a post or two about their animals - so here goes . . .

This is our "Donkey." If I had made a list of everything I wanted in a dog, I could not have gotten as wonderful a dog as Donkey.

I found him at the Pasadena Humane Society, a pretty nice place as far as the dog shelters go.

Donkey and I go on long walks in our urban neighborhood and into the open hills of Northeast Los Angeles where I find some amazing things. . .








. . .like these snail shells and animal bones which I take into my studio and, what else, sparkle 'em up with gold and copper leaf.

But back to the pet story . . .

Tuesday, as the weather turned cold, Donkey started to limp. We don't know exactly how old Donkey is. The estimate is between 5 and 7 years. As he limped around, I thought about arthritis and hip problems setting in. I stood at the stove, making dinner, and imagined our sweet Donkey, old and unable to walk, needing to be taken to the veterinarian to be put down, euthanized.

As I stood at the stove, all I could see was that horrible trip to the vet, imagining every detail. I stood there, crying into my taco meat.

We've only had him since April, and already I can't imagine our home without him.

Framed Shrinkies

It's been a long time since I've been here,
so somehow thought it appropriate to show a piece I made some time ago.


3" x 3"
shrinky dink with colored pencil
polymer clay with gold leaf
wood molding

I made a lot of tiny Framed Shrinkies (more to come) and sold many. Got a little tired of them, but still, they are sweet.

Menagerie News

It's not an animal but it's still a part of my gold leaf menagerie. It called out to me at the thrift store the same way the pig did. What else could I do? Home came the wooden bowling pin and out came the gold leaf.

Part of the Gold Leaf Menagerie

7-1/2 inches tall

2009

More Gold Leaf Menagerie

Most of the Gold Leaf Menagerie is made up of thrift store finds. But this little wooden coyote (3 inches tall) was my mother's. A strange thing, I suppose, by which to remember my mother. It's gold now, still wears its original kerchief, does remind me of my mother, and I am happy.

The Gold Leaf Menagerie

I'm standing, flipping through the rack of new arrivals that's been left, haphazardly, in the middle of the main aisle at my local Salvation Army.

The rack and I completely block the way. An older woman in ill-fitting 80's style clothing in gaudy colors, stops next to me. Her oversized bag gets lost in the clothing rack as she squeezes into the aisle. Long, stringy, graying hair, a child's barrette pulling her bangs back over her forehead, she smiles a loose grin with a missing incisor, and warmly admits that she recognizes me. Yes, I've seen her around too.

"Come on over and have a sit with us." She motions with her head towards the chairs and couches for sale, placed around a worn-out coffee table with a $20 price tag. "You're a regular; you belong over here chatting with us. We have nice talks."

Yes, I visit this Salvation Army store a couple days a week. Yes, I'm a regular, but I'm not a chatting regular.

I check today's stash:
- a lovely, tastefully beaded black Alex Coleman vest. Maybe I'll wear it at Christmas.
- a long and lean, foot-long, wooden pig. It feels warm and seems to oink a golden oink at me. "Take me home, gold leaf me, I'm perfect," it says.
- a small and grimy child's school slate that might be old enough to be worth something, but I plan on gold leafing the border and chalking in something clever on the slate.
- a tiny wicker bird cage, about 3 inches tall, without a price tag.

I thank the lady for her invitation and quickly flip through the rest of the rack before moving on to the checkout counter. I chuckle over the thought of hanging out at the furniture section while the guy behind me in line picks his nose, and the young man in the red Salvation Army vest loudly sings along with Crocodile Rock playing on the stereo marked $15.00.

My beautiful vest and wooden pig are recorded in the cash register, treated as items equally worth taking home on an early Thursday afternoon. I love how a 40-year-old hand-beaded vest and a "Buy One/Get One Free on Brick-a-Brack" item receive the exact same nonchalant reaction from the counter lady. She picks up the tiny bird cage (also destined for gold). The rule is "No tag - No sale." She looks up, recognizes me, and pushes the cage towards me across the glass-topped jewelry-filled countertop. Conspiratorially, and with a smile and a sweet wrinkle of her nose, she says, "You just take that, Sweetie."

Glancing over at the furniture section I feel strangely honored by the earlier invitation. Of course there's no question that I want to buy these things. It's fine. I'm a regular.

Softly singing along to Crocodile Rock, I check my outfit, my bag. Pointing into the glass case I spy a little costume jewelry piece and say, "Can you show me that barrette?"

(More from the Gold Leaf Menagerie coming soon.)

Squirrel Bones and Possum Skulls

Although I live in the city of Los Angeles there is much undeveloped land in my neighborhood. In my backyard I have found: owl pellets with full, intact vole skeletons hidden away inside; many possum jaw bones; a squirrel carcass just fur and bones that was unfortunately squirreled away by some other animal before I could get at it. On the hillside across the street we have found: a cat skull with all its teeth; a possum tail; a portion of (I think) a small dog skull. I have even inspired little girls to collect bones for me on the hillsides of Los Angeles.

But why do I gold leaf them and put them in "ceremonial tins?"

The easy answer is: I can change something tiny (icky even) into something so big and worthy.

The short version of a complicated answer: Making forgotten dead things important - I realize now that even though my process has changed, 15+ years later, I am still making artwork about my mother's death.

Because of My Friend Rosie

For the last few years, whenever I went to visit My Friend Rosie in the neighboring State of Nevada, we would hole up in her house for 72 hours straight and craft - craft, craft, craft, craft, craft. From about 1997 - 2005 I had been on a hiatus from artmaking. These intense crafting sessions with Rosie were the closest I came to creating art.


After one such weekend a few years ago, I ended up with this...

...the very beginning of my obsession with shrinky dinks, gold leaf, and birdhouses.


Soon thereafter, in an epiphany (hey, my calendar states that today, January 6, is the Epiphany), I realized that I could embrace my crafty love in the pursuit of "serious" artmaking.


Although I still see Rosie regularly, we no longer craft together. She has recently given me permission to write about the reasons for that. Perhaps soon, I will share that story here. Thanks in more ways than one, Rosie, for giving me permission to make art again.

balance, balance . . . barely balancing

Turkey Shoot

2007

birdhouse, golf tee, gold leafed polymer clay, trophy parts

16" high

Turkey Shoot is part of the Altar/Trophy series dealing with the same issues as the previous altar post.

"Steady now, balance . . . balance, I think it's leaning a bit . . . careful! . . . ."

Corpus Delicti (again)

Click on the lower image to get a closeup of those teeth.

Another from the Corpus Delicti series

Part of a small dog skull

in a ceremonial Altoids tin

2008

corpus delicti (more)

More from the Corpus Delicti Series
3" x 5"

Who would have thought so many small animals' bones could be found in a backyard in Los Angeles.

And, why is she gold leafing them?

a golden oink

It Was Warm and Oinked a Golden Oink
work in progress
10"x 12"

My thrift store and gold leafing adventures in drawings and words, on a 78 rpm record sleeve book.

detail of page 2

detail of page 3

corpus delicti (cont.)

More from the Corpus Delicti Series
2008
4" x 5" x 3"

Cat skull gold leafed and presented in ceramic box.

corpus delicti

From the Corpus Delicti Series
2008
size - think Altoids

Small animal bones, collected from the yard and surrounding hill, gold leafed and presented in ceremonial Altoids tins.

point system 1957

Point System 1957
(also known as Madge)
2007
12" tall

Commissioned by and created for a good friend - a sexy songwriter, a wife, and a homeschooling mom.

note to noho1960: no adhesive - the trophy part has a threaded attachment and she's just screwed right in there.