and there he is

i started the cleaning with my computer table. figuring he was either in there somewhere, unless he’d been eaten by the cat, always a possibility. but no.


this is the story of chrispy, not just a bee body, art. unintentional, but art nonetheless. and my mascot. pictures are here. so much symbolism.

now i have a wonderful little clear plastic rounded-coffin-shaped thing for him, saving it for when i found him. but i have to get him in there. i’ve moved him at least twice using a piece of paper, but i need to be able to pick him up from that little corner & maneuver him into a tiny box. don’t think an eight and a half by eleven sheet of paper is going to work. not sure what will. just scooted him with a pen & it cost a fairly decent scream & two squeaks, plus the skincrawls.

i can do this.

* * *
update: i might have been able to. but i didn’t. chris’s sister was here & i had her do it for me. she touched it. with her hands. i couldn’t watch. oh, & here are some works-in-progress shots of the doll arms projects, these are intended as gifts for my coworkers. (also there’s an old lens thingy in there, for good measure).
00beebox-t.jpg 00arms1-t.jpg 00arms2-t.jpg 00arms3-t.jpg
yes, i’m cleaning. i’m multitasking.

* * *
and finding treasures in boxes in the garage, which i was not cleaning, but … um … multita… you know.
weirdleggedbirdcreaturemachine-t.jpg alien1-t.jpg alien2-t.jpg

6 thoughts on “and there he is

  1. You can do it.. I know you can.. I mean the whole point of crispy is the expansion he brings to your phobias…

  2. i’ve been cleaning since ten-ish this morning. it’s almost four, and i’ve managed to *almost* clean one whole table. almost. but not quite.

  3. it’s “chrispy” — with a “ch”. everyone keeps calling him crispy, but he was named in honor of the the person who thoughtfully made good & sure this object of my irrational fear came back to haunt me.

  4. the dolls arms are twisted. sorry dear. that is the only word that came to mind. twisted. artistic. yes, yet appealing in a very strange way. i like.
    tweezers. if you could gently pick poor old chrispy up with tweezers it might work. though i see he is in his box now. so that is good. i am not sure if i would have been able to do it. i think it would have taken a lot of will power accompanied by lots of skin shuddering, and punctuated with many loud squeaks.

  5. tweezers would not have been long enough. but as it turned out, chris’s sister was long enoug, almost. i couldn’t watch.

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