Waking up...

Which is worse? To discover it's all been a dream...or to know, for certain, that everything is perfectly true?

















I remain, since the age of eight or so, thoroughly disgusted with this little tale's ending. "Just a dream"?! Oh, please...like I haven't heard that one before.







At the same age~~about eight~~I had a little toy porcupine that would clip onto an edge of fabric with her little arms (do you remember those?)~~she "lived" on the edge of my bedroom curtain...and at night, lying in bed with the moon sifting through those curtains and making a land of shadows on my floor and bed covers~~at night, I swear to you that my little porcupine girl became a rather large spider. Black, grey, spiky...with glimmering eyes and huge fangs. You could never have convinced me otherwise.

And after a few terrible nights, I began to trust that the spider would not bite me...in fact, she seemed to stand sentinel like a strange arachnid angel over my bed. Alice knows better. The ending of that book is to soothe worried grown-ups and placate stupid children (the sort that would rather watch a bit of nonsense on the television and have all of their ideas neatly presented and packaged for their convenience...).






But Alice knows, as do I, that there's a wonderland 'round every corner...



...hatters, chessie cats, queens, and guardian spiders...







Gentle reader,

it's








all








quite








true.



Megan Wommack ©2009





Alice is available at The Paper Poppet and on eBay.

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This piece has, once again, presented the usual "art & life dilemma"~~chickens & eggs, which first? And how very, very, much I feel like Alice! Eat the cake...surely cake is always good? But no...then you're a mile high, full of cake, and so very far away from the earth...and quite a lot of other things (and people!) that matter.

So... a remedy. Drink from the bottle (after all, the bottle says to drink.) And then you find that you're so impossibly tiny...so lost in the vast, huge, earth that you longed to return to....so "vanished". And all you've done is follow the instrutions: "eat me". You've read the label: "drink me". Then to discover yourself!~~ tiny and small~~with a small part of your heart remaining in the lofty clouds.

As much as I despise the "oh, it's alllll been a dream!" easy-out-ending...it is a relief to wake up. To stretch and embrace. To rest and work. To sleep...perchance, to NOT dream! To eat and listen and love... To discover wonderland~~with all of it's solutions, magic, and voodoo~~is not always the best place to be. I'd rather be ill and imperfect....no red queens or hatters, no chessie cats. I'll spare you all the details of my usual medical quandries...suffice it to say, the past few months have been completely horrid. And horrid is sooooo horrid when you expect horridity(?).

And all because I did follow the directions, read the labels, eat me, drink me....the resulting misery has done absolutely nothing to quash my massive authority problem. It's fanned the flames. And given me so many ideas--

My next treatment? I do believe I'm going to implement my own therapy program--Meg's Alternative Medicine, "MAM" for short (I'll have the site up shortly).

Twice daily, I shall sting myself with bees and apply a poultice of chicken poo thereafter. I will meditate upon my personal wellness while not listening to Yanni or Kitaro. I will avoid reading Slyvia Plath excepting the third tuesday of each even-numbered month, and on those particular tuesdays, I will only read the seventh line of each poem. Wearing my 3D glasses from Coraline.(There's no way I was going to re-cycle those after the money-grubbing ticket price. Let alone the gouging that goes on at the candy counters. You're worried about gas prices? I'm alarmed at the fee I'm charged for a HUGE half-empty box of junior mints!!!). Candy at the movies? "Civil Disobedience". I'm just sayin'....

Finally, I will read "The Godmother" every day:

"...I give her sadness,

And the gift of pain,

The new-moon madness,
And the love of rain..."

Dorothy Parker

NOTE: Should you be seeking an alternative cure for multiple sclerosis please be advised that MAM is in clinical trials here in the US, though there's a rumor that everyone's doing it in Canada. So in other words, don't take me too seriously. I take myself seriously enough for the both of us.

Blessings,

Meg

PS~~a riddle for you...not a hard one...do you "see it"?

A boat, beneath a sunny sky

Lingering onward dreamily

In an evening of July -

Children three that nestle near,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Pleased a simple tale to hear -

Long has paled that sunny sky:

Echoes fade and memories die:

Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,

Alice moving under skies

Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,

Dreaming as the days go by,

Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream -Lingering in the golden gleam -

Life, what is it but a dream?

Lewis Carroll wrote this about the "real" Alice...

i know the words....

"Hope is the thing with feathers,

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all..."

Emily Dickinson

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Just for today...i feel like i know the words to Miss Emily's tune...

nest~~joe~~maggie~~chloe~~remission~~friends~~family~~hope, indeed....

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I feel a bit like Alice...waking up from a strange dream~~but awakening to blessings and beginnings with a heart full of gratitude! For my wonderful family...the best customers in the world...and dear, sweet, friends...

You'll get to meet Alice soon. :)

Blessings,

Meg

Mornings with Maggie....

This is Maggie...she's four. Her "best powell" (pal) is her big sister Chloe, whether she admits it or not!--and Chloe is a studious seven and goes to school (willingly...can you imagine?!) And so, Maggie and Mama are left to each other quite an awful lot. Dad's at work, Chloe's at school...life gets dull.

The other morning I was treating myself to the end of a "gripping" novel. (It actually wasn't very gripping...it was, rather, so poorly written that I was hard pressed to keep track of the characters--but, nevertheless, I did want to know who-done-it.) Of course, all of you parents know that the more you'd like to ________ (fill in the blank) the less of a chance you have of getting _________ done. Children smell fear, weakness, embarrassing topics, and a parent's yearning to ________ , as much as they can smell warm cookies or broccoli. It's just a fact. And it's almost creepy, their senses are that fine-tuned. So, I guess Mags smelled me wanting to finish my book. Because it became desperately important that I play with her--specifically, to play "Doctor".

Now, I've been well aware of the thriving veterinary practice/doll hospital here in our home. How could I not be? The countless throngs of stuffed animals and dollies line every viable surface in our living room when the office is open...

I didn't realize they'd opened up the practice to humans as well--beginning last Wednesday, to be precise. But I was feeling well, thank you very much, and had no need of Maggie's services. I didn't want to play Doctor. I wanted to read my book. But here's the thing--

Dick Cheney could learn a lot about torturing prisoners if he just spoke to Maggie Wommack. Seriously. She never touches you, never withholds food or water--you're allowed to use the bathroom (because she just follows you right in)...she has a very humane, very effective, method of torturing her prisoners. She whines. She hints. She sometimes screams. She wails, she gnashes her teeth. She persists. She's relentless. And then? She wins. Almost always. In under five minutes, Maggie could have signed confessions from the most terrible of terrorists.

So fine. I'll play Doctor. But of course, I can't just, you know, go check in and be seen for whatever she's decided ails me (but I can tell you what ails me....Children. That's all that's wrong with me. Specifically, the four year old.) No, no. I can't just relent and get my shot. I have to find her a clip-board. And a pen. And paper, of course. (And at this point, it's very clear that my morning is turning into a depressing version of "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie".)

So we find the clip-board. And the paper. And the pen. (We're about 15 minutes into the whole thing, at this point, between the whining and the finding.) Then Maggie sits on the couch, and I go sit down in my chair...and, since I'm in the "waiting room", I get to read my book. Maggie spends some time talking to other "people" that are in her practice that morning...she seems to be a cross between a receptionist and a clip-board nurse. A receptionurse, if you will. And I must admit--she's a bit more engrossing than my not-very-well-written book.

Not only is Maggie a receptionurse--she's a mean receptionurse. I know you know the kind--brusque and blunt, the brightly colored, whimsical patterned, scrubs belying the cold-hearted malice that glitters in the nurse's eyes...eyes that are slightly shadowed by a mighty lot of bangs sprayed into an unnatural formation on the crown of said receptionurse's noggin. Mean as a baby snake and twice as venomous.... I'm, frankly, a little amazed at Receptionurse Maggie's mean-ness. Our pediatrician's office is great, my neurologist has thee sweetest staff...I'm baffled. When did she meet a nurse like this?

And just a note~~I once "dumped" my favorite OBGYN in the world, because she'd moved to another town and I had to call and get set up as a new patient. I only spoke to the nurse/receptionist on the phone (yes, I'm well aware that they're probably not lumped together that way in title. Just roll with it--I only have "some college")...I never braved an actual face-to-face encounter with that Receptionurse. The lady was so MEAN!!! Like I was some irresponsible girl who went out for a wild weekend and got myself a case of the uterus. Like I'd caught a cervix from using a public restroom without a little tissue donut-shaped seat-cover. Like only women of ill repute have vaginas. I felt like asking if I could just send my cervix over in a taxi so we'd never have to meet--I'd send my $15 co-pay along with my cervix, of course. Or could we just do this annual pap thing over the Internet? Whoops. I digressed, didn't I?

Anywho. Back to last Wednesday. We're 20 minutes into this game of "Doctor"...and mean Maggie is ruling the office with her iron clip-board. And I'm, happily, once again immersed in my not-so-well-written book. Thankfully, the heroine survived the crash--even though I had to go find Maggie's props...what a brave & resilient spirit my heroine has! She didn't die in the ravine while I was away....

Finally, it's my turn.

Maggie the Receptionurse: Wommack? Megan Wommack for Doctor Hottenflooperspoop? (or something along those lines...you work "poop" in whenever you can when you're 4.)

Megan the Patient: (sighs and places un-finished not-so-well-written book on arm of chair, crosses stage L. with resignation) Yes, I'm Megan.

Maggie the Receptionurse: Oh. (looks askance) I'm sorry. We're closed today.

?

???

Can a four-year-old really be that passive-aggressive? Did she plan it--and at what point did she begin to plan? When did she decide the practice was closed? Before she called my name? Shortly thereafter, as I walked the less-than-five feet to the couch? I don't know. But Maggie the Receptionurse is wicked mean. And she doesn't even have "some college". I rescheduled. At her convenience.

blessings,

meg

the business of art....and a puzzle

yikes! i am simply frantic...sort of...i don't really have enough energy to be truly frantic. :) blogs are a wonderful, beautiful, thing...but keeping up with posts, visiting other folk's digs, replying to comments. and now, of course, there's the whole new friending-networking-facebooking madness... all wonderful, but mighty time-consuming. how does a girl manage?! to top it all off, comcast changed their entire email format/system thingy on sunday--i can't seem to use my address book, write an email (unless it's a reply)--it's horribly inconveniencing!! and the last thing i needed to add to the stress of keeping up with orders, shipping, and general customer service. (sigh) i've no idea if i'll be able to do a newsletter with my current email address!!

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in addition to the logistics of their only being 24 hours in a day, and the horror of my new inbox...there's also this creative niggling going on in my noggin...

i've long suspected that one point all of my mediums would "crash"...would make a merry little wreck of arty goodness...and it feels sooooo close!~~but it's just not here yet. (sigh) and i know it's always worth the wait....but i HATE to wait!!

it's 3D. buy it's also cloth...and my new poppets are surely a part--i'm painting on little chunks of wood, but i'm not sure i like what i'm coming up with...

is it just me, of does she look a little under-impressed? :)

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so what does this new "it" look like???? (except i can't see "it")
i think there's some embroidery, and maybe a bit of clay...and all of these different elements lead me to believe "it" is some sort of scene...but WHAT sort?! arrrrgh!!!! and stranger still, "it" might be a bit "goth". what?! is this me??? a dark sweetness...a bit creepy...good heavens!

i do know that so many of you have written or commented that you miss my cloth dollies, that i used to offer on such a regular basis...

i should let you know, i suppose, that i miss them too!! LOL...it just began to feel as if i was a dollie machine...it's so important to me, even if it's just a wee poppet, that my work is "honest"--not lost in trend and artifice.

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anyway. do you struggle with these same woes, gentle reader? how do you organize? how do you cope? how do you unlock the elusive work-to-be from a busy artist's heart?

signed,
a completely nutty-meg

*Izannah Little Red*

There are many, many, interpretations of this little fairy tale~~what do the woods symbolize? The wolf? Why is the little girl wearing red? A quick bit of research will reveal all you ever wanted to know~~and more~~about

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Little Red Riding Hood...

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To be honest, I usually enjoy "the annotated version". But not so with this classic tale. I prefer, in this instance, to take away my own impressions...my own thoughts.

The woods can be unsettling when you're all alone...terrifying when you're not alone. Critics and literary scholars return again and again to the childhood fear of "being devoured"~~a much more realistic fear in early 1800s Germany where Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm published a series of stories collected from peasants and villagers...Grimm's Fairy Tales. All of these tales have a "moral", or lesson, to teach their audience (children). It was a very good thing to be afraid of wolves if you were a child who lived in the scantly populated countryside and often~~or seldom~~ walked alone in the forest!
Little Red Riding Hood remains universally popular, even being used for political propaganda upon occasion, throughout history. While the psychological elements and symbolism within the story can be a bit overwhelming, the tale has certainly been utilized for many different purposes~~probably because of all of the "layers" and psychological suppositions...
So what is my personal connection?

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A memory...of walking alone, in the woods. Leaves that crunch and twigs that snap...being so deep into the thick oak trees that a sunny afternoon seems just a few moments before nightfall, the light is so dim and hazy. Knowing that you ought to be completely alone~~aside from harmless deer and perhaps a stray songbird...knowing that you should be, by all reason, alone. But that you are not. And then imagining, planning, rehearsing...
what you will say to the wolf.
©2009 Megan Wommack

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This latest paper poppet is available in my etsy shoppe,

or on eBay~~

twilight

Okay...I admit it. I'm a book-snob. (But I am NOT an art snob!!)...and, to be quite frank, I've been known to watch all manner of drivel on the glass teat* while I'm working. We were in Barnes Noble to get loot with our Christmas money and gift cards and I saw Twilight (which is everywhere!)--I had the book in hand and listened to some young women in front of me talking about it. It's teen fiction. I put the book back. (snob!)

But then, more and more, I began to hear of reasonable, smart, interesting, people reading and talking about The Twilight Saga. And though the name in itself may imply something along the lines of Flowers in the Attic, I assure you, gentle reader...it is not something along those lines!! In a word, Stephanie Meyers is a brilliant writer. Of course, I enjoyed her stay-at-home-mom how-did-you-ever-do-something-like-this!? story on her site--that's always "nice to hear" when stay-at-home mamas prove their talents and skills....but. Ms. Meyers is a brilliant author!

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I noted--and if you read it perhaps you'll note as well?--that Bella (main character) is never completely "described" to the reader. Sort of. She can turn in to whatever the reader wants, or so it seemed to me. Which was a bit of a struggle for me...I'm really well past the teen-age years!...and i couldn't imagine my daughter falling in love with a vampire! (She's 7. And, well, I should hope she'll meet a nice boy without fangs...). It seemed a transient characterization--Bella can be "any girl" who's reading the book. Which is a darn good thing for teen fiction! (and certainly didn't "lessen" my experience...)

by the way please remember that i have scars on my brain and if the book does thoroughly describe Bella and i'm dead wrong don't send me any plastic vampire teeth or leave a snarky comment. thanks. :)

I got the book Saturday afternoon and instantly devoured it (heh-heh). I was reading the part where the vampires play baseball as my husband and I were travelling Sunday afternoon, and it was so cool!, I read it to Joe as we were driving...now we're going to read Twilight aloud together. (We did that with the first Harry Potter books....how sweet, huh? Why did we ever stop reading to each other??? We haven't done that in, like, 6 years! Why would we--oh, right. Chloe's 7. We had kids.)

So then, Monday, I traded in some stuff to get New Moon, the second book. And, um, yeah. I really don't have time for all of this reading!--However, at present I can count on at least one or two out-of-commission days... I'm going to send Ms. Meyers some roses!

I will say too, after finishing the second book (no, it's not like an addiction. I read fast. really. i did those classes where they have the little rolly-machines and questions at the end and....okay. I admit it. I really need to do some laundry. And I need to clean---wait! enough about me, let's keep going with my book review....).

Alright. Second book. New Moon. Meyers totally avoids the usual ennui and angst of the vampire quandary~~the whole damnation conundrum, if you will. I mean, sure-sure (inside joke), there's some of that...all vampires everywhere could be, quite possibly, darned to heck. Or maybe they're in heck now??? hmmmmmm.............. But, so far, The Twilight Saga doesn't "do" that. There's action, not too much violence, not any "language", and a sweet, beautiful, love story (no sex)....I'm doing that whole parent-rating thing, aren't I?

The first song on my playlist is "Bella's Lullaby"... But I can't tell you anymore than that. Go read the book! And yes, I hope to see the film soon....

It seems to be very well done (clips are here!

If you've read it, tell me what you thought!!

blessings,

meg

*Stephen King refers to Television as "the glass teat" in On Writing. I think. Again...the scars...

*The Paper Poppet*

In a questionable attempt to become more p-r-o-fessional, I have opened up a second etsy shoppe, *The Paper Poppet* (it's right here, if you'd care to visit!)

This location will carry all of the paper dollies, note cards, prints...and hopefully, some little theatres & small *scenes* of some sort. Perhaps cloth dollies with paper dresses? I'm in that place where ideas are just little snippets and thoughts and images in my head...little brain doodles, if you will. I would like to have scenery that could move, different backdrops, etc. Wouldn't that be fancy?! I'm thinking Midsummer's, Rome and Juliet....Peter Pan....maybe some Jane Austen? Emily Bronte?

Maybe just some little folky nonsense scenes...a little wooden dollie (think Hitty) who goes to visit her family (a grove of trees...!)...she'd have all sorts of lovely adventures...

And what is a poppet? many things, evidently...(i'm thinking more along the dollie-child line than voodoo). And i do like the fragile aspects of paper--you can sew on paper too, you know! And i must admit, it's much, much, less expensive than wool or mohair. More portable--you've no idea the lengths to which I went to take my rug-hooking to Grand Lake for five days last summer! I think too, these little prints and dollies should be limited editions? What do you think?

I'm in the middle of an Izannah Walker paper doll~~her dress is a scene from Little Red Riding Hood...hope to show it to you soon!! That dollie (Izannah) is such a mystery...I had a theory about her eyes...they seem to me to be spaced "close"...like a little old woman's. But I may not be correct about that--it was just my perception when trying to draw her little face. However, as these dolls were made one-at-a-time, there seems to be some variance within the face structure. (Like this Izannah on Dixie's Blog). hmmmmm....any thoughts?

blessings,

meg

just a note to say....

For Christmas I received this lovely Levenger pen set~~

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...possessing a rather spattered & murky past with the whole calligraphy thing, I approached aforementioned pen with some reservation & no hope whatsoever that I would be able to use the darn thing...much to my dismay...I wrote a thank you note! And it was legible!! And there were no ugly blotty things!!!

It was quite fun to sit and write thank you notes on my new Thank You Owl note cards with my new woo-de-doo pen...

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*Unexpected Music~~Winter Roses*

Completed and in the etsy shoppe~~i think i "got it right" with my photos (i am quite scanner-less!) Anywho...i do believe there's more along the lines of "unexpected music"...

have a cozy winter day,

& blessings,

meg

Unexpected music....

*winter roses*

...this sweet lassie is awaiting some finishing touches! She was inspired by those roses i saw, a few weeks ago, just outside our nest...(they're at the very end of this post.)

I was thinking about everything around us, every day, that we "don't see". Just small treasures that are sewn in to our daily lives...so tiny that they are usually lost in the busy fabric of calendars and phone calls. These small moments are my "unexpected music"...I hope i remember to listen.

blessings,

and listen--just for a moment,

meg

Fairy Tales....Hansel & Gretel

*Mother?*

Really, at the center of this queer little tale is hunger...and so, there is an oven--a witch's oven--precisely where this doll's stomach would be...there is day (a sun) & lonely night (a crescent moon), both helplessly watching a family's journey...

The four travel from their cottage into the woods...the children go further on, of course, after their father and stepmother have abandoned them--further on into the witch's candy house with feather beds and plenty of sweet food. At least, for the moment. But when your stomach is empty--truly empty--the moment is all that matters....

Maddening white birds flutter throughout this tale...and why white? For they only lead the children further astray--they are the witch's birds, and should really be crows or something like. Tiny white dots embellish the entire scene--they even illustrate the tattered lace on the witch-mother's dress...they are snow and cold...bread crumbs...light and flowers...and the lace...things seem different that are really quite the same, depending on which part of the forest you are in.




In this old, old, fairy tale...the children do escape (but you knew that). When they return home to their father, the stepmother is "dead"...do you think, gentle reader, as I do, that the stepmother died precisely when Gretel pushed the witch into the oven?

Megan Wommack©2008-2009

Each paper doll is laser copied onto acid-free card stock from my original *Paper Poppet Prints*, adhered to substantial paper, cut out & jointed with tiny brads.

*Mother?* is styled after a c.1600s wooden doll~~This doll has the unique feature of a "spinning head"~~she may change from witch to stepmother....did you ever make your witch, er, stepmother's head spin?????

By the by, I do love my stepmother, very much...she is NOT a witch! :)
measurements are as follows:
witch w/ boots folded up: 10" (includes hat)
witch w/ boots folded down: 12" (includes hat)
skirt is 8+ inches across at widest point

stepmother: 8.5" high (no boots)

this piece is available from my etsy shoppe, or eBay~~as you see, you may display her on an easel frame, though there is a double-loop of thread should you wish to display as a wall piece. Or, I suppose you could "frame" her...she does all sorts of things--don't you love dollies you can play with?! Her head spins 'round and is designed precisely so...the witch's hat is completely hidden when she is the stepmother. The witch's boots fold up as well, which can be a display option (or it makes the figure of the stepmother a bit more "different" than the witch...)

A happy accident with this piece: this doll's "form" is styled after the famed "Letitia Penn" wooden doll (whose year of creation and travel to America is somewhat debatable...). But, she is indeed a 1600-1700s dollie, which times out exactly with the Salem Witch Trials.

And another note~~these paper poppets of late are mixed media & then some...gouache, pen, ink, colored pencil, watercolor pencil, opaque pen...I am appalled at how much a set of watercolors costs these days, and so, have been foraging ahead without...and making many fun discoveries with the mediums I have on hand! (Although, I must procure some tubes of gamboge and payne's grey~~my favorite watercolor hues...)

Happy New Year blessings,

meg