Tuesday, May 26, 2015

stories ....



 
I have been making my Prim Pumpkins for 8 years now....  Long before I touched my first blob of clay or stitched my first bit of  muslin I had envisioned my whimsical pumpkins.   I knew that the curiosity of my work settled deeply with in the lure of one haunting evening.  Halloween for me is the jewel of Fall. The keeper of all things magical but would one holiday be enough to hold my work?  I wasn't sure.
 
When I think about my dolls, the stories don't end after Halloween.  They have roots. I might create a pumpkin who hides in the bushes and whacks the legs of misbehaving adults... or a pumpkin that bobbed for apples and trick or treated with the best of them and then the day after Halloween wilted into a sour squash!  The stories go on... they were deep in my soul shine and just like birthing a bebe, there comes a time when your soul has to open up and pour out something.  Something like exposing your roots....
Kettle's story
Sweetly standing on the edge of the human and fairy world was a pumpkin lady named Kettle. She wore her wanderer's head dress in hopes of attracting spiders with wispy, weaving legs.... Every now and again I see a peek of her pumpkin cuteness and I am reminded of my time with her as I stitched, she asked quietly for velvets and crinoline and when she received it she made it come alive ... not me