Dreams By Machine
Re-purposed and Functional Art
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Arrangements
And now, the stories begin.
Settling themselves into the ship and readying themselves for the journey? Dull and full of petty squabbles. Suffice it to say that all of the travelers are tired of one another by the time they’ve picked their berths, and no one wants to share a space with the Scholar OR the Princess.
The Dark Lady has many offers to share her bunk. She remains uninterested in personal contact beyond her food requirements. Food, in fact, makes up the bulk of her luggage. Frozen vials and bladders of blood are carefully stored in the coolest parts of the ship. She keeps no small creatures to feed upon, preferring the fresh taste of fear in new victims.
After all, if you can’t hunt for it, what good is it? You may as well dine off bloodsicles.
The Pirate Queen understands the fascination her fellow travelers have for the Dark Lady. She shares it. Since she has no wish to lose her fellows for the Dark Lady’s snacking purposes, she finds her a cozy and separate bunk without portholes. There may well be losses along the journey, but she’d prefer that they happen later.
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My Theory of Deconstruction
Why deconstruction?
You have no idea, unless you’ve done this for a living. For years.
You can’t know how infuriating it is to have construction, materials and styles dictated to you by people with no idea of how things are actually made. Who will argue with you about the physical properties of fabric and zippers and notions- arguments you can only answer with “they just don’t work that way”. What it’s like to explain ad infinitum (and ad nauseum) how materials go together to make a garment.
Many designers insist that their creations appear magical. That the garments not appear as having been constructed so much as sprung full-form from the designer’s head like gods and goddesses.. This vantage point views actual visible seams as being evil. And understanding that actual people, working with actual machinery MADE these garments is somehow wrong.
Piffle.
These items are made. With human, bleeding, actual hands. And the stories behind their making can be horrifying to relate. Viewing the seams shows you the process and the artistry. Wearing seams on the outside is hardly more fragile than wearing them on the inside- after all, all the seams get washed and worn and used, no matter where they are.
Yes, I want you to see them.
So many of the items we use every day are used without that understanding- that actual people MAKE these things. That there is a process involved in the creation of everything. For some, meat only appears in cellophane wrapped packages and furniture just shows up at the doorstep. Knowing where things come from can only make us more aware.
Know how thy bonds are made. For in knowing the source, we are set free.
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Why the Masks?
Why the masks?
Shall I tell you the inside reasons or the outside ones?
My brother deals in security clearances. My sister works with birth, but her former artworks were all about masks. And I chose to make and design costumes-disguises- for a profession. What does that tell you?
And I’ve already talked about how costumes fascinated me. The power that comes with changing your outside appearance. What I’ve come to know is how the disguises we wear tell more about ourselves than we might want the outside world to know. The fact that we choose to wear our masks is enough.
We all wear masks. Some of them are more obvious, and some of them are more interesting.
But what do we learn from masks? Ask any actor, performer, lecturer or teacher. We can put on any one we like. They lift us up and free us to become ourselves. Even those parts of ourselves we’re not as proud of. Wearing a mask is liberating.
The masks I make are flexible and comfortable. So many of the ones I’ve worn (both physical and psychological) are not. In these, the leather forms itself to the face beneath. It accents the eyes and calls attention to the mouth, so that what you see and say become instantly more important. You become both mysterious and bold wearing them.
And in them, I am the superpower I’ve always wanted to be.
You can be that too.
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The Language of Selling Dreams
According to all I’ve read, I’m a terrible salesperson.
I can get people interested in and excited about my work, but when it comes down to it? I know that you don’t really NEED what I have to offer.
Of course you don’t need it. You can live, breathe and eat without my masks, my clothing, my designs.
But your inner child WANTS them.
You want them because you always wanted to be a superhero or a supervillain. (I wanted to be a supervillain, since they had the very best stuff.) You wanted to be an adventurer, a stylish rake, a fairytale, an image out of a dream.
We are trained to want what other people have, to fit in, to become part of the tribe and to not stand out. But our dreams know better.
So, yes. You may not need a mask in order to survive. But you secretly want one. Period. I see you looking at them in the craft fair, the artisan bazaar, the nightclub gallery- and I see you looking away. Maybe you’re embarrassed to be interested in a leather mask in front of your kids, your friends or your co-workers. Maybe the pieces seem too showy and extravagant, and you just aren’t sure where you’d use them.
We all want to stand out. Our dreams aren’t about blending in with the crowd.
And I will not judge you. I only ask that you try on a little bit of your own inner magic. And just in case you actually like it?
Yes, they’re washable.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/64824095@N02/sets/72157627118617302/
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The Scholar
The Scholar was equally consumed by his love of knowledge and love of life. His appetites for both were enormous. He ate, drank, made love and studied with vigor and gusto. He could draw out information from the most unlikely of sources. The Pirate Queen admired his ferocious desires and his font of knowledge. He would make a most valuable companion on her quest- as long as the provisions held!
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The Daredevil
The Daredevil in the chair might be wheelchair bound, but his bravery knew no boundaries. He flung fire, hung from ropes and iron crosses and performed aerial acts of derring-do. His welding was intricate, stunning and without any awareness of its dangers. In short, he was everything the Pirate Queen wanted to be. His courage inspired her, even as his fate terrified her, and she knew he could show her stories she couldn’t even imagine.
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Envy- the Absinthe of Evil
Envy was also known as the Absinthe of Evil. Her origins were unclear. She couldn’t really have been an embodiment of that Deadly Sin, but she did her best to live up to the legend.
The Queen did not want her along for the ride. But Envy (in one form or another) would haunt her and her traveling companions for the length of their quest and far beyond.
For we all want what we haven’t got.
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The Fighter Wrath
The Fighter and the Pirate Queen had much in common. They loved the battles they fought, not for the destruction but for the sheer thrill of the fight. But while the Queen was skilled, the Fighter had spent his life in the study and practice of the fighting arts. His techniques were impeccable and his methods had the flair and style of a classically trained dancer. For all his grace, there was an undercurrent of anger and a burning desire to learn more, as though he could never be skilled enough. Fellow fighters, jealous of his abilities and lacking his fervor, called him Wrath- but never to his face. He was clearly an asset to any quest. But would he be willing to stay with her? She could not begin to guess his motives.
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Enter the Creatrix
The Creatrix fascinated the Pirate Queen. This artiste was infused with her obsession to create, and her imagination took over the details of her everyday life. Nothing mattered but making her art. When her pieces were
finished, she lost all interest in them and let them fly to the winds. The research, the brainstorming, the making, the process of creation inspired her more. Her loving carelessness had a vigor, generosity and beauty all its own, as she inspired and encouraged others to build their own worlds. The Creatrix was equally fascinated by the Pirate Queen’s longing for story, and knew that quest would become fuel for more artistic fire.
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The Ringmaster
The Ringmaster was a master of truth- that is, of finding the truth about others. His own methods were a little less savory. Brilliant, ruthless and devil-may-care, he was a charming blend of P. T. Barnum and a savage mercenary. He secretly led the guerilla forces that deposed the Princess’ father and despoiled her kingdom, and the price on his head was worth a fortune. The price on returning him alive, however, was 1000 times higher. The Pirate Queen didn’t trust him any further than she could spit whole watermelons, but knew his stories were sheer gold. And if all else failed, there was always that ransom…
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