I am just being raw today OK?

I don't feel like being cute or clever today. I just sort of feel like a beeyotch, a M-a-v-e-r-i-c-k. This could be from drinking champagne all day and eating stuff I should not have and just wanting to kick myself in the buttocks for having stuffed crab AND pie. I feel like a P-I-G pig! But that is what happens when you wait an extra day to do Thanksgiving. The anticipation gets you and you go overboard, head first into the sweet potato casserole.

First off, the turkey this year was pimping out of control. It was a boiled egg stuffed inside a hen stuffed inside a duck stuffed inside a goose which was stuffed inside a turkey with layers of crawfish stuffing all crammed up the various fowl asses. Cool, I just made a pun.

Anyway. I am feeling piggish.

What does this have to do with gourds? Well simmer down home grown, I'm a gonna tell ya.

I get blocked when I am making stuff if I A.) have cluttered closets and drawers B.) am feeling piggish. So I either gut closets or work out extra hard, or both. Every single time, I am all arty and frisky again. I am gourding out of control as I would say.

So at 9:00am, I am hitting the gym and working out with my trainer. Then I think I will come home and make a pig gourd.

Happy Gourdsgiving

How long can I tie the making of gourd art to daily events you ask? Hell, I dunno.

Today is gourdsgiving day really. That is more appropriate. See the American Indians were using gourds for 100s of years before those nasally English folks came over here whining about "religious freedom" and killing off my ancestors with their filthy diseases and enslaving them just cuz, well they were largely English and English people used to be all up their own asses about being the boss of like, everybody, worldwide. Gawd I hate Eurotrash (I am nearly half American Indian but not Wampanoag like the tribe that was actually aiding the capillary deficient, belief-disabled Euro freaks). Anyway, due to having hard skinned gourds, the pasty English people were able to have vessels for water and other stuff, like medicines needed cuz they were all so flippin disease ridden.

The closest thing to a gourd eaten at that "first" feast in 1621 was squash, which is also something the Indians turned the Pilgrims on to. Other Indian gifts worth mentioning: tobacco and peyote. Hey, don't turn your nose up OK? Your fundamental, fuk thru the hole in the sheets, Puritan, chastity belt wearin, slave ownin forebears from across the Atlantic were already in the habit of eating with their hands like cavemen, so, a little peyote in the gourd pipe was an improvement. Plus, I am sure the Wampanoag were all like "these brothas need to R-E-L-A-X!"

Some claim that the 1621 gig was all ad hoc and whatnot, but that the REAL "first" Thanksgiving occurred right here in this great state of Texas over in El Paso when the Don Juan de Onate took official possession of that area near New Mexico. I am in Texas and I grow and sculpt gourds which brings us full circle back to the mighty gourd.

So Happy Gourdsgiving! Hope you don't choke on your turkey! Wishing you pleasant peyote dreams/astral projections!

A blog for your thoughts.....

I think sadness and blogging should sort of not go together, but then somehow are a perfect combination. Ironic, huh? On the one hand, it could drive your ass totally over the edge. Say you are thinking of hurting yourself or others, hypothetically. You sit down, you are crying, mascara running, you are drinking coffee or Southern Comfort or coffee spiked with Southern Comfort through a straw but otherwise in a coffee mug because your kids are still awake. You are feeling like fresh hell. You begin to blog. And you blog and blog and get worked up and the BAM! you are down one dog or cat in the house.

On the other hand, it could be totally cathartic. You let that bad energy flow onto your well-conceived and charming blog page. The words flow like....um, let's see...Southern Comfort. Yes your blog becomes proverbial Southern Comfort. You harm no animals. You take no prisoners. You do no drunk texting or e-mailing or Facebooking. You manage to stay out of jail yet once again and all thanx to your quirky, urban, yet somehow non-threatening or pretentious blog.

You are now totally unblocked artistically. You are able to down a margarita flavored Spike and make some gourds. Well, I make gourds. Others may find themselves gardening, napping, making a bong out of a coke can---whatever---the point is you are all sane again cuz you had a blog to save you.

I am sad today.

My day sucked even though my gourds rock

Wow. Got a butt load of feedback on the new site and my blog. A couple of people have been Bond-mo-tized too, so now I have 2 official blog stalkers AKA: "followers." I have never been so proud.

So today I am all at my desk. I am eying the scissors and thinking how perfectly they would fit into my eye socket. Then I remembered "Hey, I am a blushing Blog virgin and I have an official site!" So I checked in and realized that even though my day largely sucked, my gourds are not too shabby.

So now I want to tout them as "live-saving" gourds or "good karma" gourds. I want my own infomercial with Marlo Thomas as my spokesperson.

Enjoying my new blogging power

Dayum. I am feeling so liberated now that I have the power to blog. What the fuk does "blog" mean anyway? It sounds like a euphemism for having sex or something. Jesus, I just realized my daughters may blog someday and how awful that sounds.

I am working on a gourd right now. The guy wanted a clown. I can't do clowns. It just isn't in me. I think I am too dark and cynical for clowns. But I am glad to be out of my comfort zone and am doing a Pierrot. But not a human Pierrot. It is a cat Pierrot.

This happens. I don't really know what the blog I am making until I get started and then it sort of tells me what it will be. Kind of like that episode of Night Gallery where they dolls all come to life and have these evil teeth and are all scaring and bossing the people around (and biting them too).

My Kick Ass Gourds

So here are some of my more recent gourds.