Museum of Bad Art: Art Too Bad to be Ignored

In the Cat's Mouth, Pangorda

Spewing Rubik's Cubes, K. Koch

Heather Come Hither, Bianka

Lucy in the Sky with Flowers, artist unknown

Think your art isn't good enough to hang in a museum? Think again. The Museum of Bad Art (MOBA for short), which is comprised of three galleries in the Boston area, proudly displays masterpieces gone horribly wrong. Many are by unknown artists and have been rescued from thrift stores and Dumpsters. Exposing the world to "art too bad to be ignored," MOBA's Curator-in-Chief (their word, not mine) delights in writing incisively witty, pseudo-intellectual descriptions to accompany the offbeat, sometimes just plain disturbing pieces that make up the museum's collection. Curious? Here's the description for "In the Cat's Mouth":

"A comment on issues of power as experienced by those who dwell with feline pets. Is the artist consumed with or consumed by his love for this cat? Does he identify with the personality of the startling animal? Does the similarity between these inseparable cohabitants stop short at the nose? Or is he simply trying to observe a tree-lined avenue through a cat's eyes?"

And here's the one for "Heather Come Hither":

"Larger than life, she purrs with her big bedroom eyes open wide in anticipation, "Hello boys". Bianka knew, the more hair the better."

It should be noted that I've included the more PG pieces here, as this blog is a (mostly) family show. To see some darker pieces as well as MOBA's entire range of outrageous art, visit their site. I'm so intrigued that I'm thinking about visiting the real MOBA, and that's saying something as I avoid leaving the state if I can help it. Who knows. Maybe someday in the distant future when I'm long gone and forgotten one of my totes will grace MOBA's walls, marked by a card burbling on about the gluttony of commercialism and/or childhood held in suspension. One can only dream.

Fiction Friday: Part 3

This week's edition of The Bird Lady is super short. Why? Because when I divvied up what I'd already written into weekly posts based on good stopping points, that's how it worked out. As a side note, I'll have to write some new material two weeks from now. Just the thought makes me nervous, but then, that was the point of this experiment . . .

(For those of you who are new and wondering what the heck this is all about, just click on the Fiction Friday tab on the lefthand side of the page :)

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"Ah-ha," she sang when she found the elusive coupon. She immediately stuffed it into her handbag for safe keeping until her pilgrimage to PetSmart the next afternoon. Then she looked at her watch. It was nearing five o' clock. It was Saturday, so that meant popping in a TV dinner and watching "Masterpiece Theater" and assorted documentaries on PBS. She didn't care for fictional programming. All those sitcoms, dramas, and movies were made up of nothing but lies. The girl always got the guy, a plot line that Lucy found particularly offensive. She moved to the freezer, selected a turkey dinner, and popped it into the microwave. She never cooked now that Morton was gone. She hadn't the energy.

A Blog Award and Some Random Things About Me

Michelle of Michelle's Charm World was kind enough to award me and a whole host of other bloggers the Kreativ Blogger Award (yes, that's the way it's spelled), an honor she herself recently received. Uninitiated in the world of blog awards, I was charmed, especially when I read that those recognized often share ten random facts about themselves. I was game, so here are mine:

1) I've never been stung by a bee.

2) Speaking of bees . . . When I was in the seventh grade, I won my elementary school's geography bee. This was a total fluke, as I was no geography buff. Afterwards I had to take a test to qualify for the state competition. I passed, which was an even bigger fluke (that test was hard!). No one else from my school had ever passed it before, and there was much hoopla, culminating in a surprise party complete with a sheet cake. At home, I plastered the walls with maps donated by my teacher and pestered my parents to quiz me from past geography bee question manuals. I didn't care about geography any more than I had before winning the bee, but people were counting on me, and I didn't want to disappoint. When I arrived at Rutgers New Brunswick on the big day, I was one of a handful of girls. I was wearing pink plastic loafers and a pink satin top. In my nervousness I chattered to the boy sitting next to me. He didn't respond. Then the competition began, and the tension heightened. Early on I missed a question about tea being China's main export (I think I said rice), much to the horror of my teacher, who had come to witness my anticipated triumph. I was toast. And that kid sitting next to me? He ended up winning! Not long after that, he won the national geography bee too, which was televised and hosted by Alex Trebek. I'd been sitting next to a genius, dithering on in my cotton candy getup while he thought the great thoughts of a future champion. I returned to school the next Monday mortified, the memory of the sheet cake haunting me.

To this day, no one else from my elementary school has passed that test, rendering my fluke a reluctant claim to fame.

3) It's been nearly three years since I've had my hair cut professionally. Partly because I hate making chitchat with hairdressers, partly because I'm lazy.

4) I once owned 300 pairs of shoes. Now I have somewhere in the neighborhood of 120.

5) My favorite color is blue (of the sky and electric, not standard crayon box, variety), even though all of my Tote Trove stuff is hot pink.

6) My favorite song is "Two Princes," by the Spin Doctors. Every time I hear it I think something good is going to happen to me. It hasn't yet, but I haven't lost hope.

7) I love books but hate libraries. They smell funny.

8) This week I made my 100th sale on Etsy.

9) I once forced myself to read Moby Dick because I thought it would be a good learning experience. It wasn't.

10) I always wanted to live at the beach, and now I do.

Jack Handey Quote of the Week

"You know something that would really make me applaud? A guy gets stuck in quicksand, then sinks, then suddenly comes shooting out, riding on water skis! How do they do that?!"

Something New and Sparkly: Corsages in Bloom

Bright Blooms Corsage Necklace

Its not-so-evil twin.

Tee: Mossimo, Target; Skirt: Steve Madden, ROSS Dress for Less

Shoes: Ann Marino, Marshalls 

When I saw these ribbon flowers on a display featuring little girls' hair accessory pieces in A.C. Moore, I knew they would make an ideal focal point for a new corsage necklace. So, I grabbed a handful along with some colorful wooden and glass seed beads and got to work. The result was the relatively demure Bright Blooms Corsage Necklace (nothing go big or go home about it) you see above. I liked it so much that I decided to keep it, going as far as to build an outfit around it. Then I made a nearly identical necklace to list in my Etsy shop.

If you're anything like me, then you're probably excited about breaking out your warm-weather wardrobe. Summer clothes are just so bright and fun and inexpensive and easy. When else can you get footwear (flip flops) for $5? Or run out the door unencumbered by outerwear? It's so nice to be able to take a walk or run errands without having to wonder where to put your scarf and gloves. Or worse yet, wondering where you lost your scarf and gloves.

What are you most excited about wearing this summer?

Something New and Sparkly: Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Fabulous Felt Yellow Bird Necklace

Fabulous Felt Glamour Girl Necklace

Fabulous Felt Lucky Stuff Necklace

"Girls Just Want to Have Fun" seems like the perfect catchall for describing a trio of mismatched felt neckpieces. Then again, one can't really argue that flowers, makeup, and rhinestone-emblazoned four-leaf clovers aren't girly and fun. Happy to have won that little argument with myself.

As always, I've posted the necklaces in order according to how much I like them. Tropical birds and flowers always win, but I really like the makeup and lucky stuff too. I was especially excited to use my pink leopard ribbon in the Glamour Girl piece. I'd gotten it as a gift and have long since been plotting its destiny.

So, what's up with that last picture? It's me wearing my new charcoal mask. It recently dawned on me that all those glue fumes could be harmful to my tender brain. To clarify, we're not talking Elmers here. The fabric glue I use is pungent and burns skin upon contact, both surefire signs of a substance that can cause internal damage after prolonged use. So. The bf was kind enough to hunt down some protective headgear for me. Unlike a regular old dust mask, the charcoal creates a barrier so strong that I can't smell the offending glue. Hopefully it nets me a few more years :)

Movie Moment: Water for Elephants

When I bought my ticket for Water for Elephants, the clerk asked me if I'd read the book. "No," I answered, resisting the urge to insist, "But I am a reader. I'm like you! I usually do read the book before seeing the movie." Perhaps this somewhat dramatic internal reaction was brought on by my trip to Borders the day before. I'd seen a display of Water for Elephants paperbacks underneath a sign pushily urging potential buyers to "read the book, see the movie." (You may recall that I ignored this edict, opting instead to buy I Love Ken: My Life as the Ultimate Boyfriend.) The clerk went on to say that the book had been so wonderful that she hadn't wanted it to end, and that for once the movie did an excellent job of capturing it. I nodded, promising to read it, then shuffled toward the ticket taker.

So, the movie. Water for Elephants is a frame story. I don't know about you, but I love a good frame story. There's something about hearing a story told as a flashback that makes it more symbolic and poignant. Water for Elephants is no different. It begins with an elderly man trying to get into a circus at night in the rain long after the last show has ended. At first he seems a little senile, a little lost. But then he begins to talk about his days with the Benzini Brothers Circus back in the 1930s, morphing into a twenty-something version of himself (played by Robert Pattinson) as the plot unravels.

All of a sudden, he's Jacob, the son of good-hearted Polish immigrants on the verge of getting his veterinary degree from Cornell. But just as he's about to take his final exam, he finds out that his parents have been killed in a car accident. Shaken and alone, Jacob sets off on foot with the vague notion of heading toward Albany to find work. Instead he hops aboard a train full of rough-hewn men who threaten to toss him onto the tracks. But just as it looks like the end, a white-haired gent takes pity on him (as always seems to be the case in such stories). He tells Jacob that he's joined a traveling circus and promises to get him a job (which turns out to be shoveling manure). But it isn't until Jacob catches sight of the beautiful Marlena (Reese Witherspoon), the circus owner's wife, that his fate is truly sealed. Although initially distant, Marlena thaws when Jacob tries to help her ailing horse, Silver. Their newfound friendship is only strengthened when Marlena's cruel husband, August (Christoph Waltz), refuses to have Silver put down as Jacob recommended, insisting that he can get a few more shows out of him. Unable to see any creature in pain, Jacob disobeys August. At first, August is hostile, even murderous. But he quickly brings Jacob back into the fold when the loss of the horse nets him his next star attraction, a curious elephant named Rosie. The incident marks the beginning of a complicated relationship between Jacob, Marlena, and August, the kind that will (forgive the cliché) leave all three changed forever.

In some ways, this story was what I expected and wanted. It made me cry, which is always the hallmark of a tale well told. Still, I couldn't help but feel that there was something missing, some intangible element that I suspected could be felt only when reading the book. Then again, if the good stuff was more powerful in print, then it followed that the bad stuff would be, too. And I wasn't sure that I wanted to delve more deeply into the gritty themes of violence and animal cruelty that were so central to the story. Like many people, I've always found the circus to be more macabre than cheerful. Water for Elephants draws upon this darkness to reveal the more unseemly, animalistic sides of human relationships. Undeniably unsettling, it delivers more than mere entertainment but demands more than your attention in return.