Putting the "F" in BFF

The BFF has been known to produce genius work under the influence. The morning after a Halloween party, I found this on my counter:

He does not remember drawing this. I have since laminated it. (With my awesome laminator. That I love.) Which was a good idea, because now I can slap some vellum on top of it, trace it out, stick some carbon paper under the vellum, trace it onto fabric I had lying around, embroider it, and make it into this pillow:

With this pom-pom fringe:

Then to thwart his inevitable copyright violation lawsuit (which he immediately, and predictably, threatened upon receiving these photos), I preemptively added his name to the tag:

HA. Screw you, BFF! But O, that's not the only artwork he has gifted me. It's all over the house:

Also similarly laminated with my awesome laminator, and similarly converted to an embroidery pattern:

Here is the matched set, flanking the Macho King:

I have piles of his artwork, but I don't really want to fill the whole house with throw pillows. I'm lining up some other ideas for where best to exhibit the BFF's genius. However, I have mentioned to him that maybe once in a while he could drunkenly scrawl some art that faces to the right? If it's not too much trouble.

Postscript:

I would like to point out that this whole project was made possible by the blessing of Craft Supply Hoarding. Of course I had enough fabric -- plus pom-pom fringe, plus stuffing -- lying around the house to create two throw pillows on the spur of the moment. I did actually go purchase carbon paper ($17 for 100 sheets at Staples) and the stylus (which was like $1.50 or something at Joann's), but everything else was hoarded. I try to keep it reasonable, like I don't want to end up on a reality show when they find my body decomposing under a pile of glue sticks. But I totally amass these things because I need to be able to execute these stupid ideas immediately or I go nuts. So you heard it here first: HOARDING PAYS. The End.

Monkey Box

I never took a before shot of this box either. I think I have the fantasy in my head that I am so super-organized and thorough that when I finally decide how to alter something, I will immediately reach for the camera to begin the Art Process. Which never, ever, ever, ever happens, so I don't know why I continue harbouring this delusion. What I normally do is stare at something for a month, then have an idea, grab it, and run full bore into the garage to coat it in primer, perhaps stopping to prep the area with newspaper first. PERHAPS.

Anyhoo, the following was a box covered in Winnie the Pooh whatnots that I found at a yard sale. It was oh-so-twee and adorable! Then I covered it with black acrylic paint. Then I bought this:

(Here's the link on Amazon.) Basically nothing in my house has been safe since I purchased this book. I took two of the stencils and combined them into this:

I covered the whole thing with a few coats of spray varnish, and I painted the inside with pink acrylic:

So far so good on that. I wondered if it would totally reek, but it's been okay. I should probably open it every once in a while to vent the cancerous gasses while it settles down. But it's been alright.

I left the handle brown because it's vinyl and I don't know of a way to color it without making the whole thing gummy. I'd rather have it the wrong color than have it be sticky and gross forever. Plus the brown looks more official, like maybe I have important legal documents in my monkey box.

One other thing I found at the thrift store on Saturday (when I found the clown previous) was this bizarre canvas painting of a brick wall:

The perspective on this thing is weird. Pretty much the whole thing is weird. But I decided that from now on, everyone that comes to my house has to graffiti the wall. I've already added a small monkey head stencil, and the husband wrote "OH NO!" Ultimately it will be festooned with dicks and fart jokes, as my friends are asshats. So this will probably be the last time the internet ever sees it.

By the way, even though it seems like I've been really productive lately, let me assure you that none of these things are on my running list of projects that need completing. I guess I'll get back to those eventually.

L'il Spaulding

I found a great (read: hideous) ceramic clown bank at the thrift store on Saturday. The great part is that he was already primed in a coating of matte paint colored somewhere between pus yellow and sea foam green. What was the original plan here? I have no idea. But luckily they never glazed him, because if those things have any kind of glaze on them all hope is lost. I immediately took him into the garage and covered him with Krylon black spray primer. So no before photo. (I'm sure you're shocked.) I stared at him for a while trying to decide how to most bring out his valuable terrifying clown assets.

Then I had a vision:

Which turned into this:

I figure even Captain Spaulding had to start somewhere, right? So here he is, fresh out of Clown College, eager to begin clowning and selling chicken. All those hopes and dreams!

My husband saw him during the varnishing stage and said, "That looks like the clown from that horrible movie you like." Which is no less than a ringing endorsement for the execution, as my husband has never and will never watch that movie due to the fact that he has nightmares when he hears even the title of it. SO YAY ME. I guess I pulled that one off.

Birth of a New Damn Hobby

Here's how it usually happens. I stumble across a photo of something that strikes me and I think, "I can make that." I stew on it for a while until the thought becomes "I WILL MAKE THAT." You know how it proceeds from there.

So flipping through a metal magazine I found this:

"THIS IS NO METAL BAND," I shouted. "This is music for dudes in ironic t-shirts and their blonde girlfriends. What is it doing in my metal mag AND WHY ARE THOSE ALIENS COMPLETELY RAD. IS THAT SCRATCHBOARD? I CAN MAKE THIS." (I did go ahead and check them out on Amazon, and it seems to be inoffensive stoner rock. Or like a decaf Ultra Vivid Scene. So they could be way worse.) (Also I can't remember which is the band name and which is the album. And the alien artist's name isn't listed anywhere.)

It probably isn't scratchboard. It's probably Photoshop or Windows Paint or something. But I decided it needed to be recreated in scratchboard. I was lucky enough to go to Hobby Lobby first, as they seem to be the only place that carries it. I picked up a three pack of 5x7 boards, a scratch tool and inks, and while all that was in my basket I found a booklet on how to work with scratchboard and sat down in the aisle and read it cover to cover. Screw you, Hobby Lobby!

Here's how it turned out:

Not bad, right? Also I learned to leave more space for the frame to cover up. Oh wait, I didn't learn that until I simultaneously made this next one for my friend's birthday. Remember how I always begin immediately foisting my new hobby on my friends? Regardless of the fact that this is literally my second project? Technically first and a half since I wasn't finished with the aliens when I started this?

That's my friend's guitar as depicted on the wall of a Mexican restaurant. I kept pestering her with annoying cryptic texts such as "Uh, there's a thing on your headstock that looks orange. I need to know what color it is. Like right now." To which she would reply, "WTF i'm driving." Fun Fact: I had to purchase reading glasses to finish that guitar. I am Officially Old.

Lucky for me, I was also in time for the BFF's birthday:

And I'm actually stealing his shot from FB because I either failed to take one (NO WAY!) or haven't retrieved it off the camera yet.

I need to start making badges for all these crafting techniques so I feel I'm accomplishing something. I can put them on a sash like I never had time to do that whole two weeks I was a Brownie. Surely all this useless knowledge will serve me well during the coming Apocalypse, right? Someone will need to be in charge of painting stupid shit on the cave walls for posterity, and bedazzling the torn rags that we're forced to wear by our overlords. Right? I'll just have to kill all the crafters that are better than me. I can do that.

Biggie in a Box

Oh yeah, here's the box I made for the Biggie stuff.

I got one of those perps catalogs from a gas station for a dollar and used a page from that as the background.

Inside I put the lyrics to "Me & My Bitch."

Here's the bookmark and bracelet wrapped up in tissue:

And since I didn't want her to think I bought her an iPad and then have her open it and be horribly disappointed, I covered all the Apple logos with little Biggies:

Then I slapped a bow on it and it was all ready.

The End

Happy Birfday Hot Wife

It's my smoking hot Derby Wife's birthday today, so I made her a matched set of Notorious B.I.G. cross stitch bookmark and beaded bracelet:

GUESS WHAT I BOUGHT A LIGHT BOX FINALLY. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? CTHULHU BE PRAISED.

I put this image:


into this pattern generator: Patterns For You for both projects. Actually, first I had my graphic designer husband stick it in Photoshop and blow out the contrast, cut out a slice, and then feed it into the pattern generator. Voila!

It's wild how much fatter Biggie is in the cross stitch. I guess it didn't translate perfectly to square blocks instead of oblong bead-shaped ones. I will keep this in mind for later projects, and also if I want to create picture of myself I will be sure to bead it instead of cross stitching it. Cross stitching apparently adds 20 pounds in the head area alone.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE HOTTEST HOT WIFE EVER. I LOVE YOU.

PS - Please do not hold these two items close together or you will see how much I effed up that cross stitch. Over & Out

Finnishing a Tote Bag

Everyone knows that new hobbies require new bags. Right? Right. Once you decide on your Organizational System, you have to have some way to haul it around to craft meetings and airports and whatnot. Otherwise what's the point?

So here I am with my pile of cross stitch supplies -- hoops, thread case, notebook, sundries, fabric, Super Cool cross stitch book -- and no way to lug it all around! Wistfully, I wandered around the dragon-filled, uncharted aisles of Michael's in search of some sort of craft bag. They had the padded ones with wheels, the small blank canvas bags, those granny-looking basket ones...I was disappointed.

Then I spotted one of those totes with the photo pockets, into which one is expected to insert photos of puppies, chubby babies, and smiling families in matching khaki outfits on the beach. That shit sickens me. But as I choked back bile, I had an idea: There's no law saying it has to be puppies and chubby babies and smiling families in matching khaki outfits on the beach. (Is there?? I should probably check.) Couldn't one fill it with photos of, say, Finnish black metal band Sargeist?


And couldn't one affix a metal pin on the top identifying them as such? I decided to try. Thanks to my employer supplying me with google image search and a really good color printer (Patti, shhh), I was able to make this dream a reality!

I encourage everyone to purchase these photo totes and fill them with photos of whatever makes you happy! If puppies and babies and families in matching khaki outfits makes you happy, well, whatever. But if you find that idea repellent, and it is, put photos of disturbing images in there and TAKE BACK THE TOTEBAG!! We'll show those jerks.