Proving Molly Wrong

is easy.

I'm a Flower

Hey man, I hear you: I'm taking a while to finish that mirror! I thought while you were waiting you might like to find out a little bit about the enigma that is me. I know I would!

Enigma ain't free though, and I'd just about ruin mine if I went ahead and blabbered on about myself, completely uninhibited, like I do to my ceramic pet rabbit, Trudilicious. What Trudilicious hears in her porcelain ears is NOT FOR THE INTERNET! Like so many great literists, I will inform you about myself while simultaneous adding another layer of gauzy mystery to my aura- via poetry! This is a poem written by me, about me.

I am a Flower

I am a flower.

I am delicate.

I don't tolerate extreme temperature.

I look good naked and in store windows.

My stems are covered in short hairs.

I attract various insects.

I am a flower.

You're an Orphan: Talavera Mirror

Pretend you're a Spanish orphan from the 16th century. What are you like? What's your nombre? How do you use your tiny, orphaned hands to survive? Remember, the streets are mean, and you're a product of them. Perhaps you clean daggers or steal from the local morgue. Or like me, Esteban, your light fingers clear noblemen's purses.


But wait! Adios Mio! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Your quick hands weren't quick enough- they've been seized by a nobleman baring the unmistakable expression of murderous fury. Here it comes. Your nine, hard-earned years are about to be ended by the Barón's rage. You wait for the thrust of his gleaming dagger, no doubt shined by your kin. You wait, but it doesn't come. Confused, your little, abandoned mouth cries out, "Senor!"

"Why," you continue with a heavy Spanish lisp," "have you spared my worthless life?"

The nobleman does not answer, simply replying, "Vengame." You dare not disobey. He leads you to his villa, informing you along the way that you are now his apprentice. He figures your deft hands will be as useful to him in his studio as they were to you in the streets. You pray he is right. Begin this craft with enough gratitude and deference to stave off another beating.


Materials:


For tiles:


~Plain, glazed square tiles (4.25x4.25 off-white avilable at Home Depot for 14 cents each)
~Colored Sharpies
~Spray sealant




For Mirror:

~cheap mirror w/ removable or no frame ($7 at home depot for a 13x50 in)
~grouting supplies
~wood, cut to size, to mount mirror on.


Directions:

You're a Bird: Egg Carton Wreath

To begin, pretend you are a bird. What kind of bird are you? I'm a moa. Start the craft with the knowledge that your chicks will mature into godless, polluting philistines if not exposed to eco-friendly crafts at the right age.
Whoa now! That's a heavy burden on your lil' beak! But don't fret over frumpled feathers: if you screw up badly enough as a parent, your brood will vow to be everything you're and probably become gravel-eating hippies. I guess what I'm saying is: avoid middle grounds; you're a bird. Be a flamingo, with laughably spindly stick legs. Or, like me, be a moa, with gorgeous, ham-sized gams. Just don't be a g--damned grackle with their non-comical, appropriately-sized legs. they're the Hummer drivers of the bird world.
Once you've imagined the loneliness and heartbreak of a loveless mother forcing you out of the nest, the only secure place in this shook up world, begin the craft!*


* It's probably a good idea to imagine a medical history in the event of serious injury procured while crafting.