Whee! Fun! I made a big colorful bunch of these fabric ice-cream bars yesterday—I love them so much, I can’t get over how simple they are to make—and then appliquéd them to some lovely manmade suede, and was up all night covering journals with the resulting fabric.
It was all in a big rush for a craft fair I was supposed to turn up at today. Except that I was still cutting endpapers when the sun came up, and was so exhausted that I didn’t go at all: the prospect of loading the dinghy with a crate of books, a trestle table, a folding chair, tablecloth, water bottle, and a packed lunch, then unloading it all on land—no time for a shower or anything—and then somehow getting myself (no car, don’t drive), with all the market gypsy gear, up to the NT Museum grounds by 7 a.m. made me feel so darn sorry for myself, I wanted to have a little cry. 
Once I had made up my mind not to go, I felt much better. So much better that I didn’t go to bed and catch up on lost sleep, like any sensible person would, but made another pot of coffee and decided to keep on working…
…on, of all things, a linocut printing plate that I have wanted to do for years now. It’s to make endpapers for my handbound journals. I’ve done this sort of thing twice before, and only ever simple designs so, yes, the pencilled-in design above was more than ambitious, it was probably dangerous to my health.
Note: It isn’t really linoleum…it’s some sort of vinyl tile that I get at Jackson’s Drawing Supplies. Much easier to cut and carve into…just the design itself was crazy to work.
Five hours later…
It’s a miracle that I’m not lying on the floor of the boat, slowly bleeding my life away into the carpet. If I knew, this morning, what I know now, I would’ve gone to bed instead. Should’ve gone with my first idea: large polka dots. God, it was hard to carve this design! Those *#@%&@$ round beads, especially! And all that negative/positive transition stuff fucked with my head.
Language? Oh, haven’t I sworn on my blog before? Well, sorry but yeah, I swear a good deal. And how. I’m a pirate’s wench, remember? The Captain’s Squeeze. And since we haven’t got a parrot, Kris has had to teach the words to me, instead. He puts me in a cupboard all night with a tape player going, and I get a chocolate-scorched almond for every word I say right the next morning. >:) I know, I’m going to Hell.
It’s okay. I’ve got bookings, tickets, and everything.
Have you seen these? They’re travel documents for the dead. I went with the deluxe package and got plane, railway, and cruise ship tickets. The little stub? That’s some sort of boarding pass. And they threw in the passport, gratis! It’s all one-way, so they give you citizenship when you arrive. I’ll be staying at The Hotel California.
The living burn these paper items at funerals and death anniversaries, and the offerings go off in spirit-form with the departed soul…to help the poor sod on his travels through Hell. There, as here, having money, nice things, and the appropriate documents, can get you through all the red tape quicker. There’s Hell currency, paper formal attire, paper Mercedes Benzes, paper houses, paper shoes, even fake paper cigarettes (it would be cheaper to burn the real thing, I’ve compared prices).
And here’s a real ticket to Hell, from Trondheim, Norway (with return)…
-12.449029
130.855172
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