Sneaky Peeks

Just a few shots of whats brewing at Diamond Tooth: All these claws are future talon charms and should be available for sale shortly.  Say I love you for Valentine’s day while flipping Hallmark the bird.

chicken claw with vintage amethyst charm

 

 

chicken claw with unicorn charm

 

 

XXL chicken claw with genuine lead crystal charm

 

 

XXL mutant chicken claw

 

 

future headpiece for future show in future city...

 

There are plenty more of these on deck, and I will be professionally shooting them in a few days to load on my etsy site.

XOXOBB

DIRTY BIRDS

I searched for a song about “dirty birds” prior to writing this and I discovered that there is not only a song by that name, but a dance to go with it!  OH, Atlanta, you slay me.  I got a kick out of the video; there are some hilarious background folk featured throughout.

Anyway, the video and that brief preamble are to serve as a slight buffer between you and the visual content of this post, as it’s a little dirty.  I figured I’ve got enough street cred as a taxidermist to have earned your trust, so I feel OK writing about the less glamorous aspects of this craft that make so many people queasy.  If you cannot stand the site of flesh or bone, then please abort now.  But if you’re feeling brave, take my hand baby birds, I’ll feed your head for a minute.

I had two hunters drop off birds last week.  One was what I  initially identified as a female Bufflehead but upon closer inspection actually turned out to be a female Blue Wing Teal.  The other bird was a white pheasant.

Two gorgeous specimen, although you wouldn’t know that from the insides of them.

Let’s start with the duck.  Ducks are notoriously fatty.  There is an odor to them that tends to hang on for a few weeks even after they’re tanned, dried and mounted.  I have no qualms with the odor, but the fattyness can get quite tiresome.  You see, I don’t yet possess a fleshing wheel, so I have to cut all the fat off by hand.  Being someone who actually finds solace in mundane repetitive tasks, I usually don’t mind this but I’ve been pushing my poor paws to the limit lately and there is a soreness creeping in that only people who work with their hands could begin to understand.

Whining aside, I do like trimming fat.  I marvel at it.  I mean, this is what flavor comes from.  But my first instinct is to recoil in disgust if it gets all over my hands or my face.  Why is it gross to touch this substance that is so completely universal-I have it, you have it, all your dogs and cats have it, trust me they do- and it’s the common denominator of all things delicious?  This fat is the real deal.  It’s not oleo or some bogus hydro corn science project, its bona fide, warmth providing, lifesaving fat. I am getting better at embracing the stuff however; it doesn’t hurt that after handling it I’ve got smooth Palmolive hands for hours, even after scrubbing with soap!

Official degreasing diagram

As you can see from my very official chart above, duck skin is tricky. It’s simple to see where trimming needs to be done, but the actual skin is like a thin film of tissue paper underneath all that fat.  It’s extremely easy to cut too far and make “duck doilies”.  Needless to say, I’ll have quite a bit of sewing to do on this skin before I mount it.

The spoils of duck lipo:

Foster THIS

After that, its into the tanning solution and a quick rinse.  Whenever I pull birds out of the water, I’m just a tad dubious that I’ll be able to turn such a sad looking rag into something as beautiful as its original form, but it always works out.

Onto the pheasant.  As is often the case with game foul, this guy was just riddled with bird shot. Both legs were all but shattered.

.

Lots of holes:

B, B, B, B, BULLET HOLES!

It’s not just a matter of holes but picking the shot out of the flesh, since I feed these birds to my animals and I don’t want my little babies choking on lead.  The feathers kind of clump together around the shot, some still with quills in the skin, some buried in the meat.  It’s not unlike pulling weeds:

one...

two...

three...

four...

and PULL!

Here’s one leg.  The bone was totally broken, which can be hazardous for little taxidermist fingers working flesh off of them.  I have the scrapes to prove it.  The other leg was completely obliterated.  This means more work down the line when it comes time to mount, but this all comes with the territory.

Post bath, also looking like a wet rag, albeit one covered in beautiful feathers.

Like I said, I use this meat to feed my cats.  If a hunter just wants a trophy mount and doesn’t care to eat what he catches, I will gladly play vulture and use whatever meat I can for my four-legged brood at home.  Obviously this applies to game and not roadkill.  In this case, I cut off what I could and placed it all in the crock pot with some chicken stock.  A few hours in there and presto!  Warm cozy Sunday dinner was served to my little ones:

And that’s the word, Bird.

Pigeon Holed

Early in December I was contacted by Allison Feldish in regard to a show she was curating at Extra Extra Gallery in Philadelphia with International artist Abbas Akhavan, among others.  A brief description of the show, called “So Far, So Good”, from the Extra Extra website:

Extra Extra presents SO FAR SO GOOD, an exhibition of work examining the elements of uncertainty brought forth by recent social, political and environmental upheaval worldwide. Addressing concerns from global economics and capitalism, to political violence and surveillance, the conversation between the artists is presented on a platform of poetic inquiry and investigation. Each was selected to acknowledge the feelings of uneasiness, absurdity, hopefulness, despair, humor, paranoia, and earnest defiance that pervades our present day experience. The work and artists represented are not necessarily providing concrete answers, but asking questions and presenting choices.

Abbas, a multi-talented artist who also dabbles in taxidermy, has a mounted messenger pigeon piece which is integral to his contribution to the show.  When attempting to navigate the red tape involved with shipping a piece of art such as this over international borders (Abbas currently resides in Canada), the artist and curator came to the conclusion that the papers, fees, etc, required to make this happen would exceed the cost of simply paying a local taxidermist to alter an already existing pigeon form, which you see above.  Below is the pigeon mounted by Abbas:

Pretty great job, I say.  Again, here is the pigeon I was to transform into the one mounted by Abbas:

The main difference between the two birds is the angle of the neck and head.  Also of note would be the eyes, which are black glass bulbs on the one I received but closed and detailed on the original.  Thirdly, I would have to reposition the feet.

Clearly I had my work cut out for me.

I began by wetting the areas in question to make them a wee bit more malleable.  Once I’d worked out the exact spot and angle of the cut, I went ahead.

This had better work.

Diamond Tooth Taxidermy

I needed to not only replace the head so it was arched back, but also turned to the side.  This proved more difficult than I’d anticipated, but I ploughed ahead.  Here it is, most of the way back on.  At this point I’d also began to rework the eyes.

The feathers were understandably a bit ruffled and confused as to where they were to lay after being turned about like that, so I let the whole thing dry with a compression sock on for 30 hours.  After that I inserted and glued, one by one, teeny feathers from the portion of neck I’d removed into any areas that needed filling.

I added more “skin” to make up the eyelids, after painting the pupils on, and voila:

Oh yes, and I repositioned the legs, which gave me a bit of grief but I showed them no mercy.

The show opened last Friday and is up until the 12th of February.  While I didn’t make the opening and have yet to see the dupe in action, I intend to go this weekend and check it out.  I invite you to do the same, should you be in the Philly area!

Getting out of the Rut.

A week or so ago, a local hunter contacted me via my Yelp page (speaking of which, why don’t you stop over there and leave some feedback about my services, guys and gals?  I’d really appreciate it) in search of some professional help with a European deer skull mount he was just about finished working on when the antlers plumb dropped off.    Apparently , the buck was just coming out of rut when he harvested it, and somewhere in the skull cleaning process the antlers decided to fly the coop.

Full disclosure:  I am not certain that I am using the term “rut” correctly; conversations with hunters and the internet tell me it refers to the period of time when a buck is on the prowl; he beefs up (this much I know from seeing the thick mountains of line-backer neck muscle on trophy mounts caught mid-rut) and makes a lot of noise and fights and all the carnal things that go along with finding a mate.  I think the word rut can also refer to when their antlers fall out, which happens every year around late Autumn to early Winter, depending on climate and location.  If I am speaking out of term, please let me know in the comments section.  Perhaps, I could incorporate some posts from guest bloggers, as I’ve always been interested in hunting but remain outrageously uninformed.  Rest assured, potential clients, my ignorance should inspire confidence in my work!  It serves you well to hire a taxidermist who doesn’t spend all her time in a tree stand when she should be working on your trophy mount.

All that said, here is the almost European mount, in three pieces.  The orange you see at the root of one antler is glue residue from a prior attempt to re-attach them, which proved unsuccessful.

Skulls are so beautiful.  Treat yourself and take a moment to marvel at how amazing this feature of our anatomy is.

The bottom of the antler.  The english-muffin-like texture of the break points makes sense; it facilitates the release of the horns instead of them just falling out with roots like some bloody teeth.

 

I drilled holes at all four connection point and inserted a steel bracing rod into each of the two on the skull.  After securing with epoxy, I shimmied the antlers onto the bracing rods, forming a perfect union.

It took some measuring and finesse to ensure that the antlers would “land” in the correct placement in relation to the skull, on top of that, I made pencil notches along the outside which would line up when everything was in place.

Now that the mount was back in one pice, I had to address the rough transition point between horn and skull.

I used some top secret taxidermist sculpting clay to create a transition surface and blended it all together.  While it dried I applied texture to match the natural surface of that particular part of the skull.

After it was set and dried, I painted the clay to further blend it all together.  Here is the finished product.  Unfortunately  the fuller picture I took came out blurry but this gives you an idea.  And the customer was satisfied which is all that matters in my book.

 

Happy hunting (what’s left of it)!

 

Twenty for Twenty #7: Cherie Lily

Behold the goddess known as Cherie Lily.  I have been an admirer of hers since I first met her, briefly, in the ladies room of some bar in Austin during South by Southwest, 2010.  (Which, technically should make her ineligible for this project since it’s about folks I’ve never met but nobody cares so there).  She was wearing a spandex get-up not unlike the one you see pictured below, and washing her hands. I walked in with my friend and exclaimed, “Great outfit!  You look awesome!”, to which she replied, “Hey thanks, I’m performing upstairs if you’re interested!”, and I was too embarrassed to tell her I had no money to see any ticketed shows; I was only there to catch the free performances on the outskirts of the SXSW event…so I just peed and left it at that.

Cut to two days later when my friends and I went to see the free GWAR show, and among the day long line-up of performers, there she was!  Cherie Lily, onstage with Andrew WK, aerobic dancing and looking like a neon spandex glamour queen.  In between songs, the audience was treated to multiple aural doses of positivity, feeling good, loving yourself, and being beautiful no matter what anyone says.

Does that sound hokey?

Well then go fuck yourself.

Sorry, harsh.  What I mean is, if that sounds hokey it’s probably because self-acception/celebration is an unfamilliar concept to you.  And that is sad.  Forget what your family/acquaintances tell you and embrace your body, your dreams, all of it.

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

This attitude in mind, I started with a felt hat from a vintage collection I received as a gift from a friend (more about that in the future), a bright kelly green one because of the strength represented in that hue.  It had some wear and tear; I re-pressed it ad gave it a new shape, but some of the small pock marks couldn’t be erased.  That’s ok, I thought, they’re the small imperfections which document a full life lived.

I placed the taxidermy accent pieces under a studded flap on the side of the hat; chicken feathers, red squirrel tail, dyed deer tail, and some blue dyed feathers which I acquired with another vintage hat. When worn, this would be the straight-on view:

It’s on the small side, meaning that it’s more like a fascinator since it won’t fit snugly on the head; it will need to be set in place with combs or a hair pin.  I sewed two combs on the inside, envisioning her pulling it back over her thick hair and it resting in place.  But, this is an unsolicited gift for a woman I can’t even say I know, so all I can do is touch wood and hope it works out on her head.  I did get a thank you email from her this morning, all full of kind and gracious words, but I can’t help but wonder if maybe it didn’t fit well enough.  Alas, she said she can’t wait to wear it so I’ll eagerly await any possible sighting of her in this little ditty.

Finally, as a detail, I incorporated an old wrestling pin I rescued from the trash heap in my brother’s room.  The ten year old in me can’t help but chuckle at the homoerotic-ness of these two spandex clad men in such an embrace, and I thought, as a gay icon, she would appreciate it.

As a gay man with lady parts, I know I can.

Let me know if you see her wearing it, New Yorkers!

And thanks Cherie Lily, for inspiring self-confidence in little freaks like me who never felt they could possibly fit into any of the factory modeled forms provided.

Admiral Batzaar

Mounted bat, original skull cleaned and in tact, fully decorated from his countless battles in the skies of New Jersey.

He’s a hero.

And that’s that.

Twenty4Twenty #5 & #6: Duncan Trussell and Natasha Leggero

Friday night I made an impromptu trip up to NYC to see two of my favorite comedians in the whole world perform.  I found out about Duncan Trussell via the Joe Rogan Podcast which led me to the Lavender Hour podcast where I learned about the amazing Natasha Leggero.  I get all of my outside world info through podcasts; its impressive how much of the medium I take in every week.  Anyway, Lavender Hour IMMEDIATELY  became my number one audio obsession.  Usually when I discover a new podcast, there are a few month’s worth of backlog for me to indulge myself with but I caught the Lavender Hour just a couple weeks into its existence, leaving me refreshing my podcast tab on iTunes every day like a slobbering maniac.

It’s that good.

Sure, the quality and sound levels were awful.  AWFUL.  They still leave something to be desired.  But who the fuck cares, the gems, the pearls just dripping from the mouths of these two are so rich with depth, humor and wit that I’d even listen to one of them chew food into the mic just to hear what they have to say.  Please, listen for yourself.  My little words can barely do it justice.  I recommend Air France Man as an excellent Lavender Hour cherry popper.

Needless to say, these two have been on my Twenty4Twenty list since the start.  I’ve tweeted at them, sent Facebook messages, emailed them via their respective sites, and gotten nothing.  I mean, they’re kind of famous.  Which means they’re kind of busy.  Busy with all the shit that goes along with being a personality, whatever that may be.  I hope someday I know it.  Intimately.

So when my gal pal Carmen suggested we take a little jaunt up to see them perform at Carolines comedy club, I was ecstatic.  Duh.  Of course we’ll meet them after the show and I can hand them their Twenty4Twenty gifts in person.  But would it be creepy?  Eh.  And was there time?  I figured I would just whip something up for them and then feel it out.

First up: a hair ornament for Natasha.  Looking at it now, I cringe.  I had no time.  I made it so fast, and it doesn’t reflect my true skill level/ attention to detail. But it’s still pretty cool.  I used a hand carved bone comb dyed red, and embellished it with THREE taxidermied bird wings.  Plus diamonds.  Lots of diamonds, as a nod to her material.  The added feathers are from pheasant and guinea.

I just can’t help but wish I had more time.  And more knowledge.  Judging from her photos, I guessed that she had a full head of thick, luxurious hair.  I mean, shes undeniably gorgeous:

And a girl after my own heart, judging by that outfit.

So that’s Natasha’s comb.  I was going to make Duncan a set of cufflinks, based on a rant he went on recently (on the podcast, obviously) about making an effort to dress well more often as a protest of the general American Malaise in regard to fashion.  But last-minute (thanks Jim!) I went in a different direction and made him a personal rooster claw voodoo charm, which I embellished with vintage gems.

SO.  We chanted our way through the Lincoln Tunnel Friday night traffic and made it to the venue just as the MC was starting the show.  We were seated practically on the fucking stage and I was sweating bullets.  It’s a strange feeling, seeing someone you’ve been a fan of for so long in person, on stage, performing.  I get nervous for them.  Please don’t fuck up.  Don’t let me down.  Live up to my impossible expectations.

And they did.  Both sets were great, all great, great, great, great.  We filed out after the show and saw Duncan and Natasha out in the lobby but I had to pee so bad that we couldn’t say hi right away.  Plus I had to check my look.  I’d been laughing so hard for so long that my lipstick surely had run.   OK.  Here we go.

Why is such a big deal to meet people you admire?  I’m really interested in this fan/star dynamic.  I mean, they both are clearly people I can relate to and seem as intelligent/creative/ kind as my friends.  But because they’re in this industry which exposes them to so many people, they’ve acquired this kind of mythic status which separates them from me.  From us.  It’s like a grander scale of wanting to be in the orbit as the cool girls in high school, except the people I choose to admire as an adult are way, way, cooler.

But I’m cool too.  I’m extremely cool.  So why do I turn into a googly-eyed fan girl in the presence of these folks?  Worth exploring, I suppose.  I just hope they’re flattered.  And that they remember the two Purple Popes who came all the way up from Philly to see them work their magic.

We were so enthralled after it all that we couldn’t resist doing a turn in times square:

 

 

You’re gonna make it after all, indeed.

Oh this? That’s just a big black cock on my head.

“Oh ‘ello there.  Welcome to me humble home.  Care for a spot of tea?  Jeeves!  Put a pot on for these lovely readers and make it snappy! *snaps feathers*  In the meantime, entertain yourselves with the above video  and accompanying photos plus the story of, well, MOI.”

I see you’ve met Mr. Moon.  He’s a sassy old boy, isn’t he?  He did great last Friday at the Bellhouse where I submitted him as my entry for the 6th annual Carnivorous Nights Competition, hosted by M.A.R.T. and the Secret Science Club.  While I have no photos of my presentation, I was wearing a black floor length ball gown from 1940 and my black rooster head-piece, along with some mink-tail arm cuffs for good measure.  To provide a vague visual:

*photo compliments of Milica Schiavio

*photo compliments of Beth Tusso

That’s the lovely and endlessly talented Daisy Tainton seated next to me.  I think our hairs make a pretty picture, yes? Her entry was an animatronic cat which played Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” from its asshole.

Oh look!  Found one:

*compliments od the Good Days blog.

But I digress.  Back to Mr. Moon, who began his first stage of life as an extremely rare breed of chicken known as a Silkied Ameraucana.  They began as a spontaneous genetic mutation resulting in these darling birds with fur-like feathers.  There are only thirty or so of them in the country; if you’d like to learn more about the species, please see this lengthy conversation between breeders which documents their discovery.

While I was working on this mount, I was deep into a very thick biography of drummer Keith Moon.  As the drummer for a band called the Beachcombers and later on The Who, he turned the traditional role of percussion on its head.  Before he came along, a drummer’s role was to set up a steady foundation upon which the singer and guitarist could shine.  Not content to be the audio version of wallpaper, Keith made himself into a frontman, a total fucking rock star in fact.  He had the largest, most outrageous drum kit in the world and just beat the thing to death every night onstage. He broke the mold, not unlike this new species of chicken.

The downside to this breed is that they are short-lived.  Something about their silky feathers (which make them so remarkable in the first place) not holding enough body heat to sustain them.  Again, I drew parallels to Keith Moon and other famous young artists who perish so early in their lives: they are like these furiously burning comets just hurtling through life, bound to burn to death.  What makes them so outstanding can also be their demise.

Since Mr. Moon was developing into a rock star rooster, I found it only fitting that he be completely embellished with genuine Swarovski crystals on his face and feet.  And for some reason the bob cat glass eyes seemed fitting.

Anyway, while it’s tragic that these inexplicably magnetic beings expire so early in their lives, it shouldn’t go unsaid that while they are burning away, they are also lighting up the lives of anyone in their orbit.

So why not give Mr. Moon a second life as the most beautiful fiber-optic taxidermy lamp that ever existed?  After all, the driving thrust behind my passion for this craft is the idea that I’m giving these wonderful creatures an eternal life, so to speak.  Why not let him keep lighting up the lives of all whom he meets?

This was no easy task for me, as I’d never made a lamp before.  It took some time, but I figured out how rig a bird form with hundreds of fiber optic threads, all emerging from several points, and then painstakingly taxied the skin onto the whole mess.  There was much fenageling, but eventually I got the threads to sit just where I wanted them to.  After trimming them all to the right lengths, I found a light source that was bright enough to make an impact after traveling through the cables but not so hot that it would melt them.  Next up was finding the lamp/stand.  I sourced an oldie from a second-hand shop nearby, rewired the whole thing (I’m a junior electrician now too!) and covered the glass panels in a patterned white brocade to mute the light.  And, tada!

Good evening to you as well, Mr. Moon.

That was, give or take a few words, my entire presentation.  I knocked it out of the park. I absolutely love being able to flex my showmanship muscles while flaunting something I’m so very proud of.  I get such a rush from being on stage/performing, I can feel it all night.  I guess I want to be a star too, kind of like Mr. Moon.

There were some other amazing pieces, I havent been able to find too much coverage online, but one young woman brought an entire beautifully mounted coyote named “Winnie” which would’ve taken a  ribbon at any conventional taxidermy competition, no doubt.  There was Nate Hill, ( known for his squirm-inducing Chinatown garbage taxidermy tours) tipping the gross-out scales with a live specimen tree-trimming presentation.  There was an insect trapped in a chunk of amber that somehow still moved. The two-headed mouse with a top hat.  I also missed several presentations while waiting backstage to go up but fortunately for you (and myself) this was all being filmed by a television crew.  Not really sure what I am allowed to say without stepping on anyone’s dicks so I’ll just leave it at that and then post more when the show airs.

There was also a large dog with a monkey on its back and a whole smattering of other artifacts, as well as a mounted fox, also sporting a monkey on its back which was wielding a bottle opener.  Why?  Because the mount was concealing a beer cooler.  But if you’re like me and hate the brew, fret not.  The thing pissed whiskey too.  (note to self: booze + taxidermy= crowd going apeshit). For photos of all the entries and a wrap up from a guest perspective, check out this Good Days blog by Sir Snuggles.

So who won?  The pissing fox took Grand Master and the dog placed second, no shock there.  I came in third which is still pretty rad.  The competition was fierce and people really stepped up their game.  I’ll just come back next year with an even more outstanding piece.  Competitions are good for that; unlike client custom work, I really push myself to go out on a ledge and venture out of my comfort zone, skill-wise.  I take risks, both conceptually and physically with the actual mount and pour my heart into it.  I’m also extremely competitive and I hate losing.  So long as I keep it in check, that can be a healthy driving force behind my growth as an artist.

I was at a complete loss of words while accepting my trophy, and muttered something like “feels like home” which I’m sure made no sense at all.  What I was trying to convey is that, in the presence of the judges (whom I hold in the highest esteem), and my fellow taxidermy enthusiasts, I feel like I’m really home.  It’s a unique feeling and I took a mental snapshot so I could hold onto it for when I get lonely in my little studio in south Philly.

We were ushered backstage to pose with our trophies for photos, and with the three of us left standing there after it all was over, I began to sense I was the third wheel in a bromantical masturbatory fest so I excused myself (not to one in particular as I was apparently invisible) and packed up my bird, extension cord, etc.  When I emerged from backstage the entire show room was cleaned out, chairs folded, floor swept.  I heaved a giant sigh.

The spell was broken.

Back to life.

In this instance, that means getting right back on the saddle for another quick jaunt up to NYC to knock out two of my Twenty4Twenty projects in one night.  Stay tuned!

Arrrrrt Starrrr Craft Bazaarrrrrrrr

I’ve come up for air after the Art Star Holiday Craft Bazaar, if only for a moment.  The weekend was a success and I feel pretty good about how my first time at the rodeo went.  It didn’t hurt to pair up with Art Star veteren Maria Eife wh also has an international show plus the Martha Stewart Holiday Craft Show under her belt.

I presented (and sold!)  an assortment of combs, pins, picks, joined earrings, hats, and talon charms.  Below is a smattering of the pieces I’ve been toiling away in my ivory tower creating:

A chicken feather hair pin with vintage jewelry elements,

More chicken feathers with more vintage jewelry,

And look!  An equestrian flair!  I finally got around to creating those horse shoe themed pieces I promised my polo buddies so many months ago!  Perhaps this Summer I’ll actually follow through and sell some at the Friday Night matches…

Some of the combs were feather based while otehrs were built around entire taxidermied wings.  Below is an in betweener, comprised of the taxidermied tail of a chicken.

Oh look!  A frizzle chicken wing!  Perhaps now would be a good time to let you know that 90% of my feathered elements come from my dear friends Bailey and Thomas.  They are quite possible the sweetest, kindest and most compassionate farmers this world may ever know.  Yes, My opinion is totally biased.  They keep an outstanding blog in which they document their adventures in farming, please give it a read: The Farmers Husband.

Another winged comb.  I would also like to give a shout out to my dear friend Daniel who owns Wilbur Vintage for letting me purchase his odds and ends of vintage gems.

For those who choose not to sport a long mane, fret not!  Stick pins are always within reach.  Pop one into your hat, your lapel, blouse, sweater, bag, etc.

This one belwo didn’t sell, much to my surprise.  Instead, it and one cimilar to it are en route to a faraway city as I write this, where it will make Christmas gifts for a pair of very special friends.

The gang!  (some of them, anyway)

I also made a trial run of these fur bangles with tails for the show.  People responded quite positively so I intend to tweek the design a bit and create a series.

Perfect for gesticulating wildly at cocktail parties…

I also created three new higher end head pieces for the show, as my little neon signs to lure in passers by.  They absolutley did the trick, and had many a lady tryign them on.

Right here is a vintage rabbit fur pillbox hat to which I added a chicken tail, with feathers from other birds.

Here’s a view of the side.  Can you guess what that super fluffy soft yellow plush is?

It’s gosling!  Compliments of another farmer friend of mine, Jeannie. I sewed another patch on the opposite side:

Next up: A vintage velvet fascinator base with a pair of chicken wings on one side and down on the other:

It’s hard to see form these photos (all of these hats need to be reshot on a model’s head, but I also added a small metal crown jewel charm to each side; a reference to my new logo, which you’ll see below.

Laslty, my fave piece of all, this vintage black felt hat base with chicken wings, vintage jewelry adn a tassel made by yours truly.  I have a thing for fringe and tassels, and I think you do too:

That’s actually the side view.  Below is the hat, straight on.  The curved shape frames the wearer’s face beautifully.  I just adore this hat.

On Friday night my husband came and got a few shots of our booth.  Here it is, our gypsy caravan in all its glory:

My “side” of the booth:

Like that fox? I worked with the very talented designer Dave Seater to create it and a more cohesive look for all my online presences, which you will be seeing soon.  He’s the best.  The fox with the crown was entirely my idea though; I think it really embodies the Diamond Tooth philosophy.

Here I am making a sale!  Yippee!  Like I said, I feel pretty good about how I did this weekend, as a greenhorn.  I visited with Sue Eggen at her booth, Giant Dwarf where she not only promised to play hat model for my next set of shots but also to toss some much needed (my words, not hers) pearls of wisdom my way in regard to navigating through this wild and wacky craft show life.  Sue, I’m holding you to both these things!

And that is all for the craft bazaar, now its time to work on my entry for this year’s Carniverous Nights competition.  If you plan on coming, buy your tickets now!  ALso coming up: A cat, a fox, a hamster, a rabbit, more bridal pieces and the next 20for20 gift which is going to a mystery man that some of you may have dressed as for Halloween as children…

Twenty for Twenty, # 4: Georgia Pellegrini

When I first heard of the mythical creature called Georgia Pellegrini, I thought “NO WAY.”  It was as if someone took all the things I wanted to be in an alternate life and made them into her.  Does that sound creepy?  I hope not.

I came into contact with Georgia through her brother, whom I met via mutual friend.  He told me (and rightfully so) that somehow, someday, our worlds should collide.  So I looked her up.  DANG.  She hunts.  She prepares exquisite meals out of what she hunts.  And she looks amazing while doing all of it:

While so many of us (myself definitely included) are experts at talking the farm to table, local slow food talk, she is living it.  And writing about it.  Her first book, Food Heros, details the noble endeavor of 16 food artisans from around the globe striving to honor their respective culinary traditions.  Her second book, Girl Hunter, is out now and in it she shares the stories of sourcing all her own ingredients for a great meal.   I am starting to feel like a sixth grader writing a book report so I’ll just sum up my geekery with a simple “Shes rad.”  I hope someday to do some of the things Ms. Pellegrini is doing, with as much gusto and panache.

Another great thing about this gal: she’s approachable.  When I initially contacted her about this project, she was completely receptive and eager to participate.  I knew she would be a bit different to design for, given that she is constantly on the go and leans toward all things practical.  What I’m trying to convey is, Georgia isn’t wearing a large feathered headpiece out in a field while trying to shoot a turkey.  So I made her a brooch, imagining that she could pin it to the lapel of a blazer or on the band of a small, sensible cap.

The foot is from a chicken which was once part of my friend Bailey and Thomas’ flock, and it’s wedged tightly into the brooch base along with feathers of pheasant, chicken and peacock.  There is also the tip of a red squirrel tail in there, just for fun.

The puffy soft feathers are from  the tail area (read: butt) of the chicken; these have been a favorite of mine lately because they have a fur-like appearance and move so nicely with the wearer.  I’m constantly astounded by the range of color, shape and texture of the fathers all coming from one bird.

For an embellishment on the brooch base, I found an old pin from my street gift collection that apparently was some prize or medal for 25 years of faithful service in the state of Georgia.  Perfect!  I filed down the back, bent it to the correct shape and attached it to the brooch.

I left the talon colors as is and didn’t fuss too much with the natural state of the elements in this piece.  Although we’ve yet to meet, Ms. Pellegrini strikes me as a true creature of her own element, grounded and proud of it.

Cheers, Georgia!