In honour of St. Patrick's Day, I have prepared the following pieces, for my own sanity (since I need a break from considering the project in which I am currently embroiled), and also because I think it's necessary. Each will be prefaced by a creative explanation.
-----------------------
Grouping One: Hitler's letters to his mistress, Eva Braun.
(Only two have been discovered, and many say that that is really enough to understand the man. Many then say they now know, for certain, why they wouldn't want to, anyway.)
---------------------------
Letter 1
Mein liebchien, I wish you were a man....I am so passionate, I am venting inappropriately, and feel ashamed of my urges. Please don't poison me. I'll take it out on everyone else, instead, since I also just suck as an administrator. No one listens to me, poopsikins. I will steal from them.
Love, your Rolfie.
----------------------
Letter 2
Eva, I have made them salute your sacrifice my darling, by showing me their clean hand. If I was weak, they could lower it to work, before they experienced massive pain in their shoulder area, but I will not: your love is tantamount, and I am a horse to your love. They must jump this high.
That you love me, I know, now. I am sorry I am such an asshole that I cannot give you my name, but you are still imperfect. That I am weak in this way means I must screw you repeatedly. We must tell no one, however. You may dream of me, though, if you wish. You must tell me if you do, however, so I may absolve you of these illusions you have about me, so that I remain pure.
If you continue to pleasure me, I will torment you lovingly with my love stache. In later years, imperfect men who grow things will mistakenly interpret this gift I make to you, and grow noxious substances out of various leaves, which they will, (because they're lazy and unclean), make you smoke, so that you can only envision these experiences in history between us.
They will envy us, my darling snowshoot, but simply sink into a chasm of sleep and then experience ravenous hunger which will then revolt them later, like a bird discovering how it has fed its young. They will never experience our purity, my love chub.
This is not to be mistaken for Peyote, which is different. Those guys are just crazy motherfuckers.
I have taken aspirin, again. I am weak.
Forgive me.
The headache of your love is a testament to the concussion of our minds, being one within the Greater Reality which I will create in my own artificial image. I must hurry and repeatedly continue to smash my head against the wall for inspiration....perhaps, until I am dead.
Oh!
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Nearer to Buds and Green
There is such small breath between us, I feel ashamed that I steal your air.
Only move here - a smallbreath further - and you shall collide with my lips.
They wait there for you, having spoken so many words of worry and wonder
That the poets of old - and of new, shudder......
See! Ah.....I think I see a tremor course through thee, reminding thy eyes to awaken;
That thou art still, (with breath moving around and within), yet with me,
And my hand, outstretched, might touch those trembling lips, fingers fumbling,
To seek the earth in them that is yet ours awhile, Dear One; tracing all the storied hours of roar and remember, there, with
the wide-eyed newness of it all, washing over me like the
Watering suddenness of
Warmed Oak Age, and Flowers of Spring, in an
Instant of
Carbon Spark.
Only move here - a smallbreath further - and you shall collide with my lips.
They wait there for you, having spoken so many words of worry and wonder
That the poets of old - and of new, shudder......
See! Ah.....I think I see a tremor course through thee, reminding thy eyes to awaken;
That thou art still, (with breath moving around and within), yet with me,
And my hand, outstretched, might touch those trembling lips, fingers fumbling,
To seek the earth in them that is yet ours awhile, Dear One; tracing all the storied hours of roar and remember, there, with
the wide-eyed newness of it all, washing over me like the
Watering suddenness of
Warmed Oak Age, and Flowers of Spring, in an
Instant of
Carbon Spark.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Personal Flight
Whenever clouds abound amidst the highest peaks,
Blotting out the azure glow of sky,
And circling wings of keen-eyed eagles seek
The treasured blink and small-winged cry,
But find it not, take heart;
All soon will fade away, like misted days
Long past:
Then greater journeys, and better notes,
Will ring.
Blotting out the azure glow of sky,
And circling wings of keen-eyed eagles seek
The treasured blink and small-winged cry,
But find it not, take heart;
All soon will fade away, like misted days
Long past:
Then greater journeys, and better notes,
Will ring.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
ON SALE NOW! Brand new Audio Download MP3 minibook!
Dawn's brand new "mini book" available via "Download" in Dawn's store:
"Ride of a Lifetime - The Rotor (with comic apologia)." FAMILY FRIENDLY!
How many smile-makers do you remember as a kid? Order "Ride of a Lifetime" in MP3 download, and laugh along, now - just $6.99! at:
http://www.reverbnation.com/store/artist_1316932
Click under "Downloads" to find it in the store.....Enjoy!!!!!
-------------
Want to hear Dawn sing? She has a whole list of recordings you can listen to here - TOTALLY FREE!
http://www.thekaraokechannel.com/online#page=profile&tag=1f2ui0e94g8
Click on the "recordings" tab......and sing along!
Have a great day!
"Ride of a Lifetime - The Rotor (with comic apologia)." FAMILY FRIENDLY!
How many smile-makers do you remember as a kid? Order "Ride of a Lifetime" in MP3 download, and laugh along, now - just $6.99! at:
http://www.reverbnation.com/store/artist_1316932
Click under "Downloads" to find it in the store.....Enjoy!!!!!
-------------
Want to hear Dawn sing? She has a whole list of recordings you can listen to here - TOTALLY FREE!
http://www.thekaraokechannel.com/online#page=profile&tag=1f2ui0e94g8
Click on the "recordings" tab......and sing along!
Have a great day!
Sunday, February 19, 2012
ON SALE NOW! Brand new Audio Book - Dawn M. Nevills
http://www.reverbnation.com/store/artist_1316932
Dawn Nevills reads 7 different selections from her latest poetry/painting collection, "Poems from Butterscotch Cottage" on this new CD collection, "Poems from Butterscotch Cottage - selections".
Order the CD today - just $14.99, or download the instant MP3 version, in the "Downloads" section, for just $9.99!
Dawn's watercolour painting, "Brazilian Glow" is available for sale in our Merchandise section, on a quality white t-shirt, for just $15.99.
On an entertainment budget? We have 99 cent selections, too!
You can download a single selection MP3 by clicking on the "Downloads" section of Dawn's ReverbNation store, too ....lots to choose from!
Have fun!
Support the spoken word! Bring poetry to life!
Dawn Nevills reads 7 different selections from her latest poetry/painting collection, "Poems from Butterscotch Cottage" on this new CD collection, "Poems from Butterscotch Cottage - selections".
Order the CD today - just $14.99, or download the instant MP3 version, in the "Downloads" section, for just $9.99!
Dawn's watercolour painting, "Brazilian Glow" is available for sale in our Merchandise section, on a quality white t-shirt, for just $15.99.
On an entertainment budget? We have 99 cent selections, too!
You can download a single selection MP3 by clicking on the "Downloads" section of Dawn's ReverbNation store, too ....lots to choose from!
Have fun!
Support the spoken word! Bring poetry to life!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Interesting Times
We live in interesting times. Whether or not this is viewed as curse or continuing challenge, perhaps, is in the eye of the observer, but passivity is likely the harbinger of nothing but itself, even in surmise.
Progressive, or pensive? Like all artists, observing by what means, and just how, we reflect our own "growth" is often the best, and most accurate, gauge of our opinion of ourselves, and just what it is we are "seeking" as human beings. And politics is often the modern arena by which we measure skill in the management of a nation, and its peoples.
In the United States, fresh from the smarting wounds of a still-protected-deep-within-itself Camelot wish buffeted by the viciousness of extreme, a hopeful nation has drawn in on itself, somewhat, its genuine and ardent wishes deeply scarred by the manipulation of a political extreme that thinks nothing of robbing pensioners on a fixed income, and treating the need for a basic surety of care like a luxury, trumpeting "proper spending", while the highest echelons mock the determination of a helmsman to fix the economic ills of a country by trusting first in corporate ethics as a fulcrum of democratic stability, even as it skims from the very people it was charged to help, by awarding million dollar bonuses to itself, after moaning about the implosion of its own systemic bulwarks. Alas, they could not be fired. They can, however, be monitored by the financial watchdog in place on every board where bailout moneys stabilized an industry, and will answer to them, on behalf of the voice of a nation which hammered the stones in place, and aim to keep them there - million dollar bonuses be damned.
The helmsman? What is sniffed at as "cool, aloof demeanour" is something the rag-like oafs straggling just out of reach of actual journalistic debate abhor: dignity, and an absence of the penchant to be manipulated like a performing seal, or taking more than a passing politicial interest in the interestedly detached "Al Jolson" perspective of a man of intelligence: a family man, with the contemplative nature that speaks of policy, and one who is learning very quickly about the vacuous nature of a sometimes vicious need for "newsotainment". Having been schooled in the ways of political and financial political extremes, the picture is very clear, indeed:their agenda has always been, and will always be, the same. Cultivating a culture of xenophobia and fear of the unknown, it taps into the very political extremism and culture of disparity it has created, erasing any legacy of international diplomacy - excepting a very few, who see beyond, and have always known, and comforted, in the midst of the devastation always caused by its reactionary, volatile, obsessed extremes. It sees enemies everywhere, and where there are none, any voice which speaks of concern and debate becomes one. It self-perpetuates.
There are comments of "massive ego", where there is only the discipline always required of leadership, and the drawing in, measured response, and intelligent solutions which also involve compassion - or, at least, a quiet demand for respect for earned trust, in spite of the inculcating culture of fear, and a refusal to be sucked into the gaping vortex of "finding the latest scapegoat" which, by default, is anyone who might wish to actually SUCCEED at something. Like Hitler, misery must find, and punish, someone - as long as it isn't one's self, and the more convenient, and visible, the supposed perpetrator, the more likely the real culprits - the same ones who insisted upon, offered up, and then gouged out the proffered repairs to the foundation - then resume their snickering positions in the safe confines of the latest run for the "eye of newt, perfect hair" image of itself.
The rest of us struggle with bedhead, staying ahead of the machinations, and a somewhat grim, but wiser, surety that these bastards will stop at nothing to widen the gap, stepping over the latest homeless with the easy stride of someone used to kicking things out of the way - even if it's the guy who taught you about stealing from the local candy store, by marching you back there and returning it to the merchant, who then made you shovel his front walk for a week, in reparation. You sure showed those little peons! They won't even get a nurse, when the day is done....unless she's volunteer, or some other person you don't have to "waste" money paying. .....One can only hope you get them as caregivers, one day, so you understand that working double shifts somewhere else can sometimes cause...yes....ERRORS. Meanwhile, they continue to do their best, equally determined that you won't kill their actual concern, and they won't kill you.....much as they might like to, as an easy solution, frankly. That would be too much like you.
Fresh from the "101" of extremist financial marksmanship, shining moments possibilities safely armoured against all manner of ills, including the penchant for behavioural antics and, some say, actual personality that suggests leadership - scoundrel and all - which we hate to love, and love to hate, simaltaneously, because it suggests that we can all, be, sometimes imperfect, as long as we can "still do the job", we are reminded that to be human is to learn, sometimes, about what is always a reliable roadmarker: the surety of greed.
And Canada? Canada has, at its helm, , it's true, a Tory....but it has, too, amidst the sea of blue, a conscience, and a consideration, and a steadiness carefully coached in "just the right touch" of Stones-playing piano to titillate the bluehairs, and, at least, a willingness to consult and discuss which speaks of a shift AWAY from extremism, and a quiet, very genuine, desire to consider the blatant, awkward, arrogant cultural errors of its past interactions with itself, towards a different, albeit, cautious sense of curiousity about the morrow.....
Unfortunately, it looks a lot like today, and for those needing a promise of betterment, after earnest striving, and the shouldering of financial woes imposed by its extremes, even as the opportunity to remove it through effort is removed, (along with working class democracy"), it does nothing to improve, or provide, anything to discuss, other than "Change. "
Moneypenny would be proud....at least before they ditch her, too. All those jars, grubby hands, and rolling papers.....sigh. And you have to COUNT them....!
Progressive, or pensive? Like all artists, observing by what means, and just how, we reflect our own "growth" is often the best, and most accurate, gauge of our opinion of ourselves, and just what it is we are "seeking" as human beings. And politics is often the modern arena by which we measure skill in the management of a nation, and its peoples.
In the United States, fresh from the smarting wounds of a still-protected-deep-within-itself Camelot wish buffeted by the viciousness of extreme, a hopeful nation has drawn in on itself, somewhat, its genuine and ardent wishes deeply scarred by the manipulation of a political extreme that thinks nothing of robbing pensioners on a fixed income, and treating the need for a basic surety of care like a luxury, trumpeting "proper spending", while the highest echelons mock the determination of a helmsman to fix the economic ills of a country by trusting first in corporate ethics as a fulcrum of democratic stability, even as it skims from the very people it was charged to help, by awarding million dollar bonuses to itself, after moaning about the implosion of its own systemic bulwarks. Alas, they could not be fired. They can, however, be monitored by the financial watchdog in place on every board where bailout moneys stabilized an industry, and will answer to them, on behalf of the voice of a nation which hammered the stones in place, and aim to keep them there - million dollar bonuses be damned.
The helmsman? What is sniffed at as "cool, aloof demeanour" is something the rag-like oafs straggling just out of reach of actual journalistic debate abhor: dignity, and an absence of the penchant to be manipulated like a performing seal, or taking more than a passing politicial interest in the interestedly detached "Al Jolson" perspective of a man of intelligence: a family man, with the contemplative nature that speaks of policy, and one who is learning very quickly about the vacuous nature of a sometimes vicious need for "newsotainment". Having been schooled in the ways of political and financial political extremes, the picture is very clear, indeed:their agenda has always been, and will always be, the same. Cultivating a culture of xenophobia and fear of the unknown, it taps into the very political extremism and culture of disparity it has created, erasing any legacy of international diplomacy - excepting a very few, who see beyond, and have always known, and comforted, in the midst of the devastation always caused by its reactionary, volatile, obsessed extremes. It sees enemies everywhere, and where there are none, any voice which speaks of concern and debate becomes one. It self-perpetuates.
There are comments of "massive ego", where there is only the discipline always required of leadership, and the drawing in, measured response, and intelligent solutions which also involve compassion - or, at least, a quiet demand for respect for earned trust, in spite of the inculcating culture of fear, and a refusal to be sucked into the gaping vortex of "finding the latest scapegoat" which, by default, is anyone who might wish to actually SUCCEED at something. Like Hitler, misery must find, and punish, someone - as long as it isn't one's self, and the more convenient, and visible, the supposed perpetrator, the more likely the real culprits - the same ones who insisted upon, offered up, and then gouged out the proffered repairs to the foundation - then resume their snickering positions in the safe confines of the latest run for the "eye of newt, perfect hair" image of itself.
The rest of us struggle with bedhead, staying ahead of the machinations, and a somewhat grim, but wiser, surety that these bastards will stop at nothing to widen the gap, stepping over the latest homeless with the easy stride of someone used to kicking things out of the way - even if it's the guy who taught you about stealing from the local candy store, by marching you back there and returning it to the merchant, who then made you shovel his front walk for a week, in reparation. You sure showed those little peons! They won't even get a nurse, when the day is done....unless she's volunteer, or some other person you don't have to "waste" money paying. .....One can only hope you get them as caregivers, one day, so you understand that working double shifts somewhere else can sometimes cause...yes....ERRORS. Meanwhile, they continue to do their best, equally determined that you won't kill their actual concern, and they won't kill you.....much as they might like to, as an easy solution, frankly. That would be too much like you.
Fresh from the "101" of extremist financial marksmanship, shining moments possibilities safely armoured against all manner of ills, including the penchant for behavioural antics and, some say, actual personality that suggests leadership - scoundrel and all - which we hate to love, and love to hate, simaltaneously, because it suggests that we can all, be, sometimes imperfect, as long as we can "still do the job", we are reminded that to be human is to learn, sometimes, about what is always a reliable roadmarker: the surety of greed.
And Canada? Canada has, at its helm, , it's true, a Tory....but it has, too, amidst the sea of blue, a conscience, and a consideration, and a steadiness carefully coached in "just the right touch" of Stones-playing piano to titillate the bluehairs, and, at least, a willingness to consult and discuss which speaks of a shift AWAY from extremism, and a quiet, very genuine, desire to consider the blatant, awkward, arrogant cultural errors of its past interactions with itself, towards a different, albeit, cautious sense of curiousity about the morrow.....
Unfortunately, it looks a lot like today, and for those needing a promise of betterment, after earnest striving, and the shouldering of financial woes imposed by its extremes, even as the opportunity to remove it through effort is removed, (along with working class democracy"), it does nothing to improve, or provide, anything to discuss, other than "Change. "
Moneypenny would be proud....at least before they ditch her, too. All those jars, grubby hands, and rolling papers.....sigh. And you have to COUNT them....!
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
King Making
I used to dream about being an Ambassador,
So that one day, like Madeline Albright, I could look at all of my pins,
And think of all the miles, and all the smiles, and all the earnest words,
And regard them as the very finest of jewels, in my mind and memory, like the
Lives of the people whose gentle clasps, affixed like hands over my heart,
Spurred me on to a new day.
Alas, mine was a humbler task, earnest though I was, in making those
Greater Moments more flawless, and void of concern or alarm.
Each brief hour of peacefilled word was a ribbon of Comfort in the
Cabinet of races won, and I, blowing hard, ignoring the
Performance opportunities for the
Greatest Stars, enjoyed my secret treasures,
Though the rest days of rollicking notes, when the work week was done
Presented a different Face - a more mischievious one -
Singing our troubled thoughts away.
And yet, those Dear Faces, to me,
are still the Crown for
Every King I may have
Made.
So that one day, like Madeline Albright, I could look at all of my pins,
And think of all the miles, and all the smiles, and all the earnest words,
And regard them as the very finest of jewels, in my mind and memory, like the
Lives of the people whose gentle clasps, affixed like hands over my heart,
Spurred me on to a new day.
Alas, mine was a humbler task, earnest though I was, in making those
Greater Moments more flawless, and void of concern or alarm.
Each brief hour of peacefilled word was a ribbon of Comfort in the
Cabinet of races won, and I, blowing hard, ignoring the
Performance opportunities for the
Greatest Stars, enjoyed my secret treasures,
Though the rest days of rollicking notes, when the work week was done
Presented a different Face - a more mischievious one -
Singing our troubled thoughts away.
And yet, those Dear Faces, to me,
are still the Crown for
Every King I may have
Made.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Beloved Christmas
It is Come! It is Come!
The Eve of the Possible; the Day of the New:
The forgets and forgives, the now and the Known,
When Aged and Young reap the carefully Sown.
Ah, Christmas, thou sweetest of Days;
Thou harbinger of memories, thou present of Sage,
Remind us Again, of those Dearest of Faces
Gone and Near, Cared and Caring -
Oh, Maker of Miracles, speak of Wild and Wonderful Moments,
When even all the World, for just a little while,
Ceased its Hate, in defiant Love,
And Stilled even the Order of the Day
to Whisper....
Peace, thou Brother and Sister Mine;
Only see the Babe, and
Rejoice!
The Eve of the Possible; the Day of the New:
The forgets and forgives, the now and the Known,
When Aged and Young reap the carefully Sown.
Ah, Christmas, thou sweetest of Days;
Thou harbinger of memories, thou present of Sage,
Remind us Again, of those Dearest of Faces
Gone and Near, Cared and Caring -
Oh, Maker of Miracles, speak of Wild and Wonderful Moments,
When even all the World, for just a little while,
Ceased its Hate, in defiant Love,
And Stilled even the Order of the Day
to Whisper....
Peace, thou Brother and Sister Mine;
Only see the Babe, and
Rejoice!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
The Ghosts of a Chance.....
amongst the ruins of tinsel and tower...
breath arises,
and on its vapid cloud, within the frigid timbre of note and nothing
so awash amidst the want and wishes,
The Word
emerges,
Speaking of Moment, and Meaning, and
More.
Often, manners are forgot, amidst the frozen moisture of tiny
drops, at Sir, and Sire, and Such, the Madames are not so tidy,
and This old flicker, nuzzling still, its egged-on Young,
Glows Green and
Brazen, and Oh, so
Bold among the
Shadows....
Which move, even as we Speak.
breath arises,
and on its vapid cloud, within the frigid timbre of note and nothing
so awash amidst the want and wishes,
The Word
emerges,
Speaking of Moment, and Meaning, and
More.
Often, manners are forgot, amidst the frozen moisture of tiny
drops, at Sir, and Sire, and Such, the Madames are not so tidy,
and This old flicker, nuzzling still, its egged-on Young,
Glows Green and
Brazen, and Oh, so
Bold among the
Shadows....
Which move, even as we Speak.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Tulip bulbs and Fall Preserves
I feel the chill as the wind whistles about in the evening, sweeping leaves
Away absently. It is a time for Before Winter
Repairs, patched warmth, and preserving all the
Gratefulness of work and Harvest.
In those reminder moments, as I gather my satchels about me,
I imagine the myriad bulbs in them bursting forth in spring for you -
A thousand colours of the rainbow, Rembrandt splashed, and brilliant;
Myriad-hued sighs
lighting up your eyes, at my wildly scattered paintbrush smiles,
As they twinkle, with the sunshine in mine.
Spring, and my heart, will light
again the Green and Newness of Heart and Hands after
Gentle
Winter's Sleep, and the glow and Noel mind of Rest and Giving.
It is an apart collection, this, in thought; traveling gently across time and space
In kind comfort, its continued Quest still in the striving to try, and in the
Quiet, Considered, Humbled, Hope
for Better, in
The Best of
The Heart's Knights.
Away absently. It is a time for Before Winter
Repairs, patched warmth, and preserving all the
Gratefulness of work and Harvest.
In those reminder moments, as I gather my satchels about me,
I imagine the myriad bulbs in them bursting forth in spring for you -
A thousand colours of the rainbow, Rembrandt splashed, and brilliant;
Myriad-hued sighs
lighting up your eyes, at my wildly scattered paintbrush smiles,
As they twinkle, with the sunshine in mine.
Spring, and my heart, will light
again the Green and Newness of Heart and Hands after
Gentle
Winter's Sleep, and the glow and Noel mind of Rest and Giving.
It is an apart collection, this, in thought; traveling gently across time and space
In kind comfort, its continued Quest still in the striving to try, and in the
Quiet, Considered, Humbled, Hope
for Better, in
The Best of
The Heart's Knights.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Almost Apostolic
Betwixt light and shadow, glimmer and darkling plain,
Amidst orb, and shape, and glow,
Therein, the movement is within and without,
And all the sudden shudder that is "know" and "now"
Reminds us of everything, and nothing,
Shifting endlessly.
Quick! The flicker of "aye" is Evermore,
Joined, and joining,
Continuing, and Continuance;
flicker, and flame, and
Fierce.
We are Ourselves, Together;
Dust, Filled with
Momentary Kindness of
Shared Breath,
Sculpting....supported, Supporting,
Melded and Welded, like
Shielded Versions of Each Other,
Mirrored.
Oh! If only the Angels know how fierce my prayers are...
then I should be at Peace,
Even though your gaze is
Politely
Bewildered, and I shall calm your trembling lips with
Trembling, invisible/visible
Fingers...
Precursor to the Cursory profanity of my
Mouth.
Amidst orb, and shape, and glow,
Therein, the movement is within and without,
And all the sudden shudder that is "know" and "now"
Reminds us of everything, and nothing,
Shifting endlessly.
Quick! The flicker of "aye" is Evermore,
Joined, and joining,
Continuing, and Continuance;
flicker, and flame, and
Fierce.
We are Ourselves, Together;
Dust, Filled with
Momentary Kindness of
Shared Breath,
Sculpting....supported, Supporting,
Melded and Welded, like
Shielded Versions of Each Other,
Mirrored.
Oh! If only the Angels know how fierce my prayers are...
then I should be at Peace,
Even though your gaze is
Politely
Bewildered, and I shall calm your trembling lips with
Trembling, invisible/visible
Fingers...
Precursor to the Cursory profanity of my
Mouth.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Homemade Halloween...continued
Recycle Man...Version 2
This recycle man wears armour comprised entirely of plastic, water, pop, and juice bottles cut into half, and stapled together via the flat, open sides, side by side.
On each side, you can use a newspaper punch to attach heavy ribbons or rope, to tie the armour on like a big huge goalie pad.
Add a "recycle pop top", which you can either make out of pop bottles, or make a huge cardboard flip lid bottle top from a cereal box, and paint it...poof!
You're RECYCLE MAN....Version 2:"Captain Plastastic."
Have fun.....and be creative! (You might look a little like bubble wrap...don't be alarmed....just in time for Christmas "mailings"....har, har, har...grin.)
Madame George. xo
This recycle man wears armour comprised entirely of plastic, water, pop, and juice bottles cut into half, and stapled together via the flat, open sides, side by side.
On each side, you can use a newspaper punch to attach heavy ribbons or rope, to tie the armour on like a big huge goalie pad.
Add a "recycle pop top", which you can either make out of pop bottles, or make a huge cardboard flip lid bottle top from a cereal box, and paint it...poof!
You're RECYCLE MAN....Version 2:"Captain Plastastic."
Have fun.....and be creative! (You might look a little like bubble wrap...don't be alarmed....just in time for Christmas "mailings"....har, har, har...grin.)
Madame George. xo
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Adventure in Advance Planning: Homemade Halloween
Today's costume ideas:
1. RECYCLE MAN Version 1
Needed: Recycled paper towel and toilet paper holders, for gluing together, painting, and creating both a helmet, shield, and coat of arms, tie-on armour.
Helmet can contain pipe horns, simulating breathing apparatus. Underclothing should be either thrown away machinist overalls, dyed black (or so dirty they smell clean, but will never be stainless). Go for a "down and dirty working man hero" look. Every part of the ensemble must be made of something recycled.
Rolls in front should, if connected properly, be eerily similar to the Abominable Marshmallow Man. (More on this later.)
2. MAN FROM PLAID (Or...the dishevelled overworked FARMER/EXECUTIVE/MAKES THAT TAX PAYMENT, EQUIPMENT RENTAL, AND UTILITY PAYMENT GUY. Can also be MADGE FROM PLAID. RUBBER GLOVES and canvas fishing hat required...or plastic grandma rainhat. (usually under 49 cents, even today, astoundingly....near the "curlers" section....yes; "curlers"....you can say it! This is when we had to "set" our hair, along with the table, because we had no perm solution that didn't cause us to risk death and poisoning via the scalp...OR a hairdryer. Made will bring smiles. Add an apron for authenticity, as she bolts out the door for work, flinging it on to the bench.....
Needed: Old briefcase, or recycled portfolio. (Value village and Sally ann great for this.)
Needed: EVERYTHING PLAID - including the makeup on your face, which should take, if done properly, about twenty minutes to complete. Make sure the same sort of plaid pattern on shirt and pants (which should really be mismatched, along with either a Santa leather belt, or a piece of rope (for tying up something stray that suddenly runs away), is repeated on your face makeup. This take some doing, and a small kit, available at Value Village, or abandoned lipstick and shoe polish combinations, drawn in coloured squares, separated by black lines, creating the "Plaid on SKIN" look.
We're going for a Bay City Rollers look, here, so different plaid socks - or grey work socks, which look better - and either work boots, or black and white very worn running shoes. If you are going for the executive look, you can branch out into hiking boots, but be careful: all things plaid, please.
If you feel reallyl wild you can go for the "shocked redhead" look, and Pippi Longstocking braids that stick straight up, for girls, but this will take some glue and patience, and you really should get permission before you start sucking your hair into a punk version of Pippi with the vacuum cleaner, after shellacing it with Lepages. We don't want any bald kids in school on Monday - and besides; no one is brave enough for that type of creativity anymore, anyway.....sigh. Oh well. Go for a curly hippy wig (Value Village), or "stiff gel straight in the air" reaction to the hydro bill, instead, if you get scared at the glue idea, or are tempted to smell it. No self immolation or hurtie activity allowed!
MORE TOMORROW!
1. RECYCLE MAN Version 1
Needed: Recycled paper towel and toilet paper holders, for gluing together, painting, and creating both a helmet, shield, and coat of arms, tie-on armour.
Helmet can contain pipe horns, simulating breathing apparatus. Underclothing should be either thrown away machinist overalls, dyed black (or so dirty they smell clean, but will never be stainless). Go for a "down and dirty working man hero" look. Every part of the ensemble must be made of something recycled.
Rolls in front should, if connected properly, be eerily similar to the Abominable Marshmallow Man. (More on this later.)
2. MAN FROM PLAID (Or...the dishevelled overworked FARMER/EXECUTIVE/MAKES THAT TAX PAYMENT, EQUIPMENT RENTAL, AND UTILITY PAYMENT GUY. Can also be MADGE FROM PLAID. RUBBER GLOVES and canvas fishing hat required...or plastic grandma rainhat. (usually under 49 cents, even today, astoundingly....near the "curlers" section....yes; "curlers"....you can say it! This is when we had to "set" our hair, along with the table, because we had no perm solution that didn't cause us to risk death and poisoning via the scalp...OR a hairdryer. Made will bring smiles. Add an apron for authenticity, as she bolts out the door for work, flinging it on to the bench.....
Needed: Old briefcase, or recycled portfolio. (Value village and Sally ann great for this.)
Needed: EVERYTHING PLAID - including the makeup on your face, which should take, if done properly, about twenty minutes to complete. Make sure the same sort of plaid pattern on shirt and pants (which should really be mismatched, along with either a Santa leather belt, or a piece of rope (for tying up something stray that suddenly runs away), is repeated on your face makeup. This take some doing, and a small kit, available at Value Village, or abandoned lipstick and shoe polish combinations, drawn in coloured squares, separated by black lines, creating the "Plaid on SKIN" look.
We're going for a Bay City Rollers look, here, so different plaid socks - or grey work socks, which look better - and either work boots, or black and white very worn running shoes. If you are going for the executive look, you can branch out into hiking boots, but be careful: all things plaid, please.
If you feel reallyl wild you can go for the "shocked redhead" look, and Pippi Longstocking braids that stick straight up, for girls, but this will take some glue and patience, and you really should get permission before you start sucking your hair into a punk version of Pippi with the vacuum cleaner, after shellacing it with Lepages. We don't want any bald kids in school on Monday - and besides; no one is brave enough for that type of creativity anymore, anyway.....sigh. Oh well. Go for a curly hippy wig (Value Village), or "stiff gel straight in the air" reaction to the hydro bill, instead, if you get scared at the glue idea, or are tempted to smell it. No self immolation or hurtie activity allowed!
MORE TOMORROW!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)