And I have all kinds of everlasting flowers that I'm tired of seeing in a vase and they'd go just fine attached around this wreath. So time passed, as it does, then today I thought now I'm tired of seeing that tire lying around, I'll see about making my wreath, it now being the season and all that.
So I wrapped it first in a nice bright green embroidered sort of satiny remnant, then with a sparkly narrow ribbon. So far so good, bit ropy, but when it was covered, the flaws wouldn't stand out.
Then I attempted to attach the everlastings. And they shed mercilessly all over me, the wreath, the table, the cat helpfully hovering about, and it became clear that if I got them attached, there would be a big shower every time the front door on which the wreath was to live, was opened. And I realized further as the lawyers say, that the chances are great that my season of sneezin' is the result of these critters.
So now the wouldbe wreath which looks exactly like a bicycle tire wrapped in green satin, is balanced on a high shelf in case I ever think it's worth doing. The everlastings now live outdoors. And at least I know I tried.
But it looked terrible, as a matter of fact. Not a bit what I'd envisioned. The thing is that I'm so deadly allergic to real greenery, particularly once it starts to dry, that it would do me in having a wreath of it on my front door and having to pass it several times a day. So that's not an option. That's why I came up with the dried flowers instead.
Then I thought, ah dolls, maybe, but they put up such a concerted scream of protest, even the new ones, that I didn't have the heart.
So this is a Big Art Fail! Full disclosure. Which does not lead as far as putting up pix of the big mess...
Reminds me of a wonderful interlude years ago at work when a couple of other artists (we were largely artists with day jobs) decided we'd have an In House Bad Art Show. With really rotten works we'd made, and like all artists we had plenty to choose from.
Mine was a big red paper deal, supposed to be shaped and puffed out to look like a Japanese fighting fish, a solid paper sculpture hanging from the ceiling, but ending up looking rather like a stuffed red suitcase hanging in the lost property area.
Then, irony abounded, another staffer, not an artist, a sports type, fell in love with my fish and demanded to have it hanging from the ceiling of her office. I gave it to her on condition she never mention my name in connection with it.
What I learned today (been reading Robert Fulghum, can you tell?)
1. it's worth trying because even if you fail you learn something. In this case that I should never have started this project.
2. the best plans in my hands often change dramatically in the execution
3. I did make bad art, but I had a good laugh.
4. The circular form is not my metier.
5. A wreath is not an item you can hang with irony.
However, my two latest little dolls having heard the Dollivers wittering on, have caught on and want their picture in here, now.
Bigger doll points out her hand tatted blouse, (Judy, I didn't cut it, just wound and pinned it) and her gold lame sweater, and smaller doll not to be outdone, sports her white mohair sweater and silver lame skirt. And she explains she had not been drinking at all, just having a bit of trouble balancing there. Take that, Ds!
