Large house/building, fairly narrow and long…seems almost like a shelter with makeshift beds everywhere and mass confusion – very little organization to the place. There are a few offices and storage rooms along one wall with the doors closed. The walls are all painted a pale gray and they are pretty smudged as though the place hasn’t been kept up or has been in the current state for quite some time. There seems to be no power in the place.
There is a makeshift “living” area with some beat-up couches put together somewhat like a sectional – in a U shape. My purse and a bag with apparently all of my valuables/belongings in it (a very small bag) are lying on one of the couches near where I am standing. I am talking to several people but am keeping my belongings in my peripheral vision. There is an air of distrust, distress and a sense of anxiety about the state of things. It seems almost like a meeting – like some plan for the group is being discussed. Within a few moments, I realize someone has taken my belongings and I grab a rifle out of a glass display cabinet near the couches and take off running. I apparently know who it was and what direction they went. I don’t recall any of the faces from the meeting or any of the people milling about. I am running across unmade beds, piled high with bedding and beds with 4 and 5 people jammed in them trying to sleep. I am tracking the thief.
As I am running through the shelter, things pass in a blur of junky shelter-life of litter and clutter. I am running across and through the mess. My senses and reflexes all seem heightened – sharper, faster, stronger. I am picking up clues that although seem to be incomprehensible, I am still processing. It seems like I am skipping past the recognition of the things I am seeing and hearing, the thought process of working out their meaning and connections and going straight to the conclusion of the responsible parties. I am specifically tracking my dad (who originally took my possessions), Lisa, who served in some distraction/trafficking/laundering sort of capacity in the whole deal and Lori, who currently has the money and possessions and is at some sort of outdoor, Renaissance-like fair or market that is packed with people. I am zipping through the crowd, tracking her now. She has wormed her way through the crowd and somehow heads back inside the shelter of which the fair/market is just outside. I have steadily been collecting bits and pieces of the belongings as I have been going – like they were dropped or given to random people along the way. It’s almost as if there is a visible trail where my possessions have been, where she has run.
Once back inside the shelter, the mission of getting my possessions back was apparently complete. Now some other pressing matter seemed to be inherent to my knowledge. There was a couple – a man and woman trying to overthrow the rule of the shelter. They had some sort of twisted, evil plan but it was unclear what it was. They somehow had morphed into huge mosquito-spider monstrosities and separated. He was in one of the closet-like rooms of the shelter and I somehow knew exactly which one. I still had my rifle and I knew that I had a pistol on me as well – stainless steel and fairly small – maybe a .9mm. I smashed in the door to the storage room he was in, right shoulder first and pistol ready. He is suspended from his web at the back of the room and although he doesn’t have a “face,” he is still somehow capable of projecting a sort of demeanor. He is speaking to me somehow also and although there is a slight buzzing, hiss to his words, he sounds normal for all intents and purposes. You can hear the evil in his voice when he speaks of his and the female’s plan. He is telling me how she is much stronger and more laden with whatever weapon/chemical means they plan to attack humanity with and informs me that they knew I would come looking for them and that was precisely why they were in different locations. He tried to stab me with his horrifically large stinger but with my increased strength and reflexes, I was able to grab him by it, jam it into the wall where his venom (their weapon) emptied benignly. With a quick snap, I then broke off his stinger and stabbed him in the “face” with it – killing him. Without waiting around, I ran out again, now headed for where the female was to stop her. I could sense the anticipation of a more vicious fight ahead of me when I found her. I wasn’t afraid, just not as confident as with the male. The dream left off with me running back through the shelter, the people all still in a general fluster of fear but undefined.
The dream blurred and resumed with my now being on some sort of craft. It was ship-like but there was no buffeting by air or water. I could only deduce that the ship was in space. It was not massive nor was it cramped. There were only a handful of people onboard and it seemed as if it were almost like a mobile lab to some degree. The occupants were apparently family members – father, mother, son and daughter. The son and daughter were both attractive young adults near in age if not paternal twins; the parents both still fairly youthful and attractive. All four of the family members were scientists and intensely intelligent. The father seemed very preoccupied with his work. The children, somewhat just following his instruction but were very mature and sure of themselves. There was a significant bond between the siblings just to the verge of nearly breaching the line of perversity but not quite. The mother: intelligent but perverse. In her work, she found a sense of the erotic and loved her work to a perverse degree. The father was oblivious or indifferent to her affections for her experiments.
The entire family built a machine together which was incorporated into the ship (like an appendage to one end which encircled the rest of the ship in something resembling a ring, intermittently connecting up to the ship itself). The mother’s relationship to the machine was far more personal. It was if she had somehow embodied a soul, personality, BEINGness into the machine during her portion of the project’s work. This was the manifestation of her perversity and therefore, where she felt her connection to it.
The “bridge” of the ship was a slight dais-like step-up from the rest of the space within the ship. This was where the father virtually stayed, absorbed in data displays and controls. To the right of the bridge was something like a foyer which led to the machine. The “entrance” to the machine was something akin to a zipper with softened, curved teeth that gently seemed to flow upwards and downwards with the wave pattern of the teeth. The vertical “mouth” of the machine opened and closed slightly with the flow of the waving movement so as to permit occasional, brief glances within to a smooth, metallic, cavernous and massive, curving and rolling interior. Almost immediately inside the door/mouth and below it there was a pulsating bright white light that seemed to be breathing or pulsing like a heartbeat. The whole machine moved very organically and had a softened, more organic shape and feel.
The machine’s purpose was for energy manufacturing and some sort of space/time/teleportation function.
As the father and children worked on the mechanics of the ship and machine’s functions, the mother was found at the mouth/door of the machine, caressing and whispering to it as it slowly opened and closed in its waving pattern. As time passed, the mother slowly began to move with the movement of the mouth/door and with the same sort of flowing, wave pattern, began to crawl into it. She began with one foot and then slowly slid the rest of that same leg through the lower opening, riding the wave of the “zipper” up to its opening at the top where she then slid the opposite arm through the opening so that she was then somewhat twisted with the teeth. As the wave carried her back down again, she ducked her head inside and then back out when reaching the bottom, spinning head over heels so that she was now upside down and loosely tangled with the mouth. On the next wave back up, she spun back upright again and simultaneously pulled her remaining leg, arm and then head all inside the machine, being swallowed by it.
There was a sense of the machine having a dangerous quality to the average person but like a wild animal raised from infancy by a person, she enjoyed a bond with the machine that most did not – except with a perversity that was just generally accepted by the rest of the family. Although the mouth was closed, I could see that the mother was in essence, “swimming” through space within the machine in some erotic bond with it, circling the ship as she gently brushed along the curves and waves of its inside walls like a fish as she swam in quietly intimate ecstasy.
I’ve recently decided that I desperately need to alter my relaxation to stress ratio in favor of the more positive of the two aspects. Decisions like “I really need find more ways to relax” tend to change the way you look at things, activities, the cost and complication of acquiring things and of participating in activities. It also can change the places that you LOOK for relaxation and methods for achieving the effect in general.
I personally feel that starting with the easiest, most readily available method of relaxation is the best way to free up thought-space to better enable the “creative” conjuring of relaxing ideas. For me, that means reading or in extreme cases of distress, not even something that mentally involved. There are occasions where if I even have the energy to be conscious (read: anything beyond constant sleeping), I have only enough consciousness at my disposal as to make watching television as challenging of a task as I can handle outside of necessary function. At that point, I can’t even watch movies unless I didn’t have to make the choice of which one to watch in the first place. This is a VERY bad place to find one’s self.
UNLESS…the boob-tube proves to actually be informative for a change. We know that’s rare but even more rare that a commercial — that capitalist trap of eye-candy — is for a product that can legitimately make me drop my jaw in awe, envy and excitement. When suddenly you see the very PRODUCT which could virtually CURE you of all of your stress and tension and woes with just a mere purchase…it’s a day to chock up as an “amazing TV” day.
Enter, THE VIBRACOUSTIC (by Kohler). The currently most BAD ASS bathtub I have ever seen.
After seeing the commercial that made my palms sweat with wondrous anticipation, I immediately thought two things: #1, I bet you have to use JUST the crap they pre-program the thing with like those stupid “white noise”/”spa” sound machines and #2, I bet that thing costs as much as a small car.
Well….as it turns out, it’s a good thing I don’t waste my time in casinos or playing Lotto because I was wrong AND right… The sound system on this awesome tub does come with specific, pre-loaded tracks which are designed to utilize acoustics in a fashion that morphs music into hydro-massage-therapy. Additionally, you CAN load your own music into the system for a customized experience. SCORE!
On the down side, the part I WAS right about sucks pretty badly. According to KOHLER’S pricing on their website, these tubs range from $5, 670.00 to $7,770.00. OUCH.
Can’t they have a heart?!? The common folk are in DIRE need of this sort of relaxation due to added job stress (layoffs: fear of being laid off and/or the added burden of picking up the work that was left behind when OTHERS were laid off), economic stress (even IF someone still has a job these days, almost no one is getting a raise any time soon and that’s given that they didn’t already LOSE money under the guises of “saving jobs” by cutting a percentage of all employees’ salaries). We working folk desperately need some way to avoid the cardiologist!!
I originally started this post with the intention of merely sharing another dream from a while back in its extremely raw descriptive form. In the midst of getting it typed out, I got a call from my vet (well, my CATS’ vet, I obviously don’t need a vet for mySELF). It seems one of my cats, LapWhore (named for her tendency towards any new visiting lap and her virtually obscene drooling and “making out” with someone petting her), is dying of Lymphosarcoma cancer which has attacked the left side of her lower jaw. She has one to two months to live according to the vet, at which time, she will ultimately starve to death due to the rate of growth of the tumor and location.
This is LapWhore (aka, Orange Cat):
lapwhorecharacter2005
lapwhoresummer2006
I’ve had pets my whole life but not since being an adult have I had to deal with one dying, let alone had to be the one with the decision as to when she’s had too much and needs to be put to sleep. This is one of the precise points of trouble that Robin Williams’ family faces in the film, “What Dreams May Come” with their family dog. It is the first time that their children lose a pet and it is difficult for them to comprehend. The comprehension isn’t my trouble though. It’s the heartbreak of watching her suffer when she has been such a lively, spirited cat for all 11 years of her life and the loss that will hurt for me. I don’t look forward to this…
I’m no “video editing” pro so if you want to see the scene in “What Dreams May Come” that I’m talking about, start at 4:40 and watch through 6:05:
Anyway…in the nature of having to carry on, this was the dream I initially began posting… Forgive me if I don’t currently care enough to make it a more refined read. Just read it for what it is…
Dream from Night of May 21st, 2008:
The dream begins with my entering some derelict Cathedral of mammoth size but with cheaply done Gothic details — amusement park quality. All black and red.
Inside, it is falling in on itself. There is a space almost the entire size of the cathedral underneath but it has to be reached by ladders and improvised, constructed means (like a pulley, lift system) of lowering down through the cathedral’s collapsed floor to the lower level. The lower level is almost like a previous church that was ransacked and destroyed, buried and the new, black and red cathedral built on top of it.
My parents are visiting and are well dressed, behaving like members of the upper-class. I am taking them around a bizarre hotel that is decorated in bright, bold colors but not over-lit in the least. Rooms, including the lounge and restaurant are deceivingly large inside. Angles are odd and corners are not at right-angles. There was someone else walking along with us as we toured the hotel — a man of small frame but not clearly identified, perhaps the architect.
We leave the hotel in a large, black car and I take them on a nighttime, driving tour to the old cathedral. The cathedral is situated on a side street near Downtown Pensacola, close to where the Civic Center is, near the old cemetery that is there. (Gregory St./Wright St.).
A slight jump in time and events.
I either WAS or was HELPING a glowing “distant” woman who was of some other world or supernatural degree of significance — world altering power. Taking her down the ladder to the lower cathedral where our underground army’s base was — amongst up-turned pews and broken iconography. It had to be something like 3 full stories down, at least. As I am escorting her down, a spirit version of her begins to open out of her back — like a disembodied split-off of a more powerful/purer part of herself — uninhibited by the constraints of flesh. She is our super-weapon in an underground war between armies with various (but lesser) supernatural abilities on both sides of the battle.
After my considerably more adult review of LittleBigPlanet in association with some films that the art design reminds me of, here’s a childish bit of ha-ha for you. Since LBP is by design, customizable and enables every player to become a level developer, that literally opens the door for all SORTS of stuff.
I have a VERY sensitive nose. I can smell that someone smoked a cigarette 2 days ago. I can smell when some no-good man has been whoring about. Thankfully, I’m not limited to nosing out only the stink of this world. Pleasant, subtle scents are also at my olfactoral disposal (even if there is a disproportionate amount of good vs. evil odours in the air). Unfortunately, much like the great tales of this and previous millennia, Evil often poses as Good; in this case, in the candle aisle, at the incense shop and at the perfume counter. In other words, this also means I can’t stand strong fragrances/perfumes/colognes. Only if they’re not too powerful can I stand scents in any embodiment. Even then, I typically favor fruity or natural scents.
Understanding that, it shouldn’t be difficult to guess that I do NOT hang out at perfume counters, in “head shops” or even the oh-so-popular candle stores. I did, however, inadvertently stumble upon a candle line that caught my attention called “Modern Alchemy” by the company, D.L. & Co. Just based on their product naming, design and their scent descriptions, I might have to start saving up my pennies to give a couple of their pretty (and pricey wares) a go.
I’m not very trusting — especially with advertising — but even if these candles and fragrances smelled like putrid garbage on a sweltering July day in Atlanta, GA, I’d probably still have to at LEAST get my hands on the “Seven Deadly Sins” collection…just to say I had it. I mean, what if someone one day ponders aloud in your presence: “I wonder…if ‘sloth’ had a smell, what it would smell like?” If you had this candle collection, you would KNOW!! And if you’re like me, you’ll also find it HIGHLY amusing that it is (among other aromas) a “cannabis” (the plant more commonly known for its intoxicating effects) scented candle. To be honest though, I guess my inner nature-girl/hippie always thought the plant’s sharp, citrus smell refreshingly clean — even if I never understood why anyone would enjoy the effect of sounding like a moron and being a worthless sack of flesh as a result of smoking the stuff.
Most of the fragrances and candles by D.L. & Co. are very sophisticated in their scent base and quite crafty in their themes and artistic presentation. Just upon reading the choices of fragrance combination, I would expect most of these candles (even the ones that DON’T include the cannabis flair) to be pretty heady and dense (i.e. burn in a REALLY large room — maybe with some doors and windows open too for good measure) but also very unique. Some of the others sound incredibly fresh and considerably lighter. I’m fairly sure the lighter scents will be more appealing to my hyper-delicate snout but I have to admit that the other, more complicated varieties still sound intriguing.
In the event that you’re interested in scraping YOUR pennies together to check these fragrances out as well, I’ll let you cheat and start with a couple of places I found that actually sell them (since the company doesn’t sell their Signature line or Modern Alchemy line directly from their website it seems).
Modern Alchemy can be found for purchase at these and other sites:
There’s a connection here, believe it or not. I love both — but that’s not the connection. Yoga is a little more new to me than guns. This is a bit of general info about the line of guns that THIS baby comes from. I have one of these (a .22 cal Mark II target pistol by Ruger) that was my (yes, there is meaning here) 22nd birthday present from my father. I’ve been shooting that gun since I was eight years old. It’s sentimental but even better than that, has cheap ammo for LOTS of hole-punching at the range.
The deep sense of peace that the practice of yoga and the practice of target shooting (note: not reducing your stress-producing foes to the role of “target”) can offer is quite similar. Of course, there are plenty of debates around the value and risk issues but we’ll cover that too very briefly later.
For now, let’s focus….on the focus. Ah yes, the FOCUS…. To do either of these activities requires focus. It requires concentration, a quiet mind and steadiness. Even if you’ve never tried your hand at “down dog” or at squeezing off a few headshots (at your target silhouette-guy of course), I’m sure you’ve watched enough TV, movies and internet videos that you have an idea what these activities LOOK like.
Now is the time to activate your imagination if these are hobbies you never have or will dream of trying. Think of threading a needle, of packing wheel bearings, building a PC from scratch, building a piece of furniture, drawing schematics for a piece of machinery or blueprints for a skyscraper. If I haven’t gotten at least CLOSE to something you might be able to identify with, I’m afraid you’ll have to try a little on your own to find your comparative point of concentrated effort. Just roll with me here for now.
With yoga, it’s a PRACTICE of POSES — keywords when talking about yoga. It’s not a competition with the person across from you in class, it’s not about putting your legs behind your head (for whatEVER reason you may feel the need to achieve that feat) unless that’s just “available” to you (another bit of lingo). Yoga is about doing what your body can while pushing it just enough to FEEL a pose but never to the point of pain. Yoga is about getting the alignment of the pose — of your body — RIGHT. Yoga is about getting the alignment right and knowing how it feels when it’s right. Yoga is about focusing on your breath when a pose is difficult and you feel yourself start to quiver because your muscles never knew they could work like that (all while remaining STILL). Yoga is about FOCUSING on your breath and your body and your orientation/relationship to it and the ground below your feet (or head perhaps). The combination of physical activity and meditative movement and stillness offer benefits that are holistic and one of the reasons I personally am so fond of yoga.
Guns…now how exactly do these go with yoga again??? Focus… You clearly aren’t practicing your yoga or target shooting or you’d remember that.
Target shooting can offer a lot of the same mental focus that yoga can offer. You get a slightly more energized version though since yoga is about quieting and shooting about making a bunch of reverberating racket (and putting holes in things of course). You still FEEL the experience since most firearms have at least SOME degree of a “kick” (basic shooting lingo for “recoil”). You sometimes even get the shocking sensation of a hot, ejected shell smacking you in the forearm or face (wear your protective eye and ear-wear, people) as it flies from the recently emptied chamber as well. You may not get sweaty from this activity like with yoga but you’ll likely get a little dirty since gun powder and gun oil do tend to “smudge” a bit. It’s a satisfying bit of grime that washes off easily though — nothing like a little evidence besides your Swiss-cheese target that you’ve accomplished something.
The sense of focus with shooting though really comes from the manufactured silence of plugged or muffled ears offering the strangely internal sound of your own breath. You may not realize it but as you begin to aim, you increase your odds of an on-target shot if you steady your breath. Smooth, even breaths… Wait, didn’t I say something about breath and yoga??? :0 Yes, steadying your breathing can help steady your hands and as you focus on your target and your aim and your steadiness, you are inadvertently generating a stillness within yourself. What’s the point in target shooting if you’re shaking too hard from being enraged or upset and can’t hold your aim still? Pinpointing your concentration on such a centralized task that requires a steady hand focuses the mind away from distractions and the skipping-about that the mind can find itself doing throughout the day, just like yoga quiets the mind. So really, there ARE some very helpful benefits from both if you need some calm in your day.
And who’s to say one trumps the other either… Like I said, I love them both. The more calm, the better these days! Namaste.
Your obligatory and complimentary SUPER-BRIEF comparison of yoga and guns:
Yoga Cons: New Age/Hippie stereotypes, cost of classes (Unless you’re already a trained teacher, I suggest that you attend classes. The REAL effect and benefits of yoga cannot be achieved at home or without an instructor), need for modifications to poses for those of us not born in a “yogi” shaped body, scheduling issues for the average working adult making it difficult to get to classes
Gun Pros: focus, calm, confidence, increased hand-eye coordination and distance judgment, self defense (if needed), being a bad-ass (Please see this clip from Snatch if you are in need of a better understanding of “bad-assery” and are neither faint of heart NOR repulsed by sailor-mouth language + crassly naughty analogies.)
Gun Cons: ugly stigma of abuse, violent industry and application, risk of accidental discharge, children, expensive initial investment, expensive ammunition (depending on the type of firearm), if you DO decide to get a permit to carry — also added cost and trouble of acquiring and renewing permit
Sure, I favor some things that people might consider kind of dark but as it should be coming through bit by bit, I like a touch of fun to my darkness too. That inevitably means that there are some instances of “fun” that I find amusing which contain little to no darkness about them whatsoever.
Even more evident should be my tendency towards the artistic in things that I enjoy. I do love movies and music and other forms of “normal” art but I don’t actually play many video games. I am wound quite tight enough without the added stress of trying to “beat” a game or level or find some boon. I can stand to watch more games than I can play and the better done the game artistically and functionally and intellectually, the more I typically enjoy watching it. That said, there are few games I even enjoy watching enough to consider actually playing for myself. Little Big Planet is one of those VERY rare exceptions.
This is SUCH a fun game, visually, functionally, even regarding its soundtrack and storyline. This game is so textural and logical — but in a fantastic way — that even the greatest hardcore “kill em all” gamer has to stare at it and even play a little (even if he talks smack about the ‘gay’ factor the whole time). The 3D feel of the levels, the way the physics engine allows the “sack person” to swing and bounce and grab things, even the expressions that you can control on your customized little-you are fascinatingly fun.
In playing this game, I thought of two films I love for their alarmingly simple, yet unique art design: The Science of Sleep and Coraline (in 3D specifically). These films convey very much the same surreal and child-like qualities that art used to embody back when art meant clay and construction paper, pipe cleaners and cotton balls. The sophistication of this game and these movies steps in with the approach, stories and consequences of actions in each.
In Little Big Planet, you may be having a blast with your one-eyed, polka-dotted, cross-dressing lion(ess?), but the humor you encounter is definitely adult — as are the goals of the game. The Science of Sleep is about a couple of very eccentric, only mildly mature adults who sort of fall in love through the language of imaginative avant-garde art and music. Coraline is really probably the most kid-friendly of the three of these playful examples of fun art (in motion). Coraline is a bit darker but necessarily so since it DOES have a bit of a moral-of-the-story thing going on (be who you are but appreciate what and who you have — summed up).
I like the unique in the world. These movies and this game definitely qualify for this category so if you’ve got some spare change (and time) lying around, go check any or all of them out if you want your lovely little eyeballs to be dazzled and your mind to be entertained and expanded (if only a little depending on how far out there you already are).
Designer, Tithi Kutchamuch is definitely an “outside of the box” thinker as you can see here from his projects. Although innovative, not all of his designs are practical. Hell, his “Virgin” project, I don’t even understand — and I’m not quite sure I WANT to considering the confusion his descriptions and displays instilled. (I’m hinting that he could do with a little ENGLISH assistance to perhaps better his presentation effect.)
Aside from that, it was evident from the overall impression that I got from his designs that he is a very sensitive soul. Sound hippie-like enough for you? He’s very AWARE of his surroundings. He is aware of the spacial relationship that people have to the world around them, to each other and to themselves. Sound better? His creative endeavors that he bares to the world on his website are gentle, artistic and in most cases, useful applications of that awareness.
Of all of Tithi Kutchamuch’s designs, one that I favor over all of the others is also an ironic favorite for me. I may be a woman but I am NOT a chocoholic and tetter on the verge of dare I say, disliking the stuff altogether. That being said, Kutchamuch’s chocolate is designed to encourage people to eat less while focusing on the EXPERIENCE more than the quantity in this day and age of obesity, overeating and market trend toward selling more for a supposed greater value. This really is simply fun in the most literal sense. Check it out.
Not that this wondrous woman really NEEDS more positive press but I respect and envy people — especially women of this caliber.
Tara McPhereson. She’s an artist, a woman obviously, a beauty at that, clearly intelligent, has fascinating taste and from a 2nd-hand account (as well as the impression I’ve received from her interviews) a fabulously down-to-earth, just cool as HELL chick. I love her art, even if it’s sometimes a little relentlessly common to its sibling works. She has a very stark, strick style that is at once fun, dark, simple and yet still exquisitely elaborate.
As if her art wasn’t fun enough on its own, this hot artist (in so many ways) has awesome taste in clientele. She has gained a great deal of exposure for her individual works but an even more expansive viewing crowd by being a hot commodity in addition to her hotness… Bands, baby. This chick has done some MEAN band-poster work. I’m lucky enough to have one from 2006 that was gifted to me by way of a close friend of the band Mastodon. She’s done a couple of posters for them (one poster in 2 designs from last year that I specifically want like MAD but have yet to get my hands on). This same individual who gifted me with her 2006 poster recently had a chance to sit down and talk to her and reinforced my initial impression that she was indeed a cool individual and a lovely lady to boot. I have to admit I am still a bit envious of the opportunity. I’m human after all.
As it turns out, Ms. McPherson doesn’t do JUST posters but sculpture, toys (too cute not to check out), fine art and other interesting things as well. A couple of those that she lists in her bio are references to her work that I REALLY should have just remembered off the top of my head because I have both references (unfortunately not the ORIGINAL works)… She was a contributor to Fables: 1001 Nights of Snowfall along with another of my favorite artists, James Jean (*tangent alert* Mr. Jean’s work was also showcased in the recent, film adaptation of the “unmakeable graphic-novel movie,” Watchmen). McPherson’s part in Fables is the illustrated, 14-page sub-story, “Diaspora.” Here is a quick write up on the Fables piece. Her other (likely more recognizable) works can be seen hanging on the bedroom walls of Juno in the film by the same name.
This woman has a very distinct style and in a way that is all her own, she brings fun and sophistication with her art. Not until later do you realize you’re looking at a High On Fireposter or staring at a punch-out of a girl’s candy-cane ribcaged chest — including breasts. She is an artist in the truest sense, being capable of once again making something sinster, cute and sweet. As I’ve said before here, I’m incredibly fond of that effect and by golly, darn it if I’m incredibly fond of Tara McPherson as a result!
