Tuesday, September 11, 2012

The Gardener

**Beep Beep!  The following is a special service announcement by Vickie's most fabulous daughter, Sandy**
That's right.  I'm sorry to say, but for all of you out there on the Interwebs who were expecting another eloquant and elegant blog post by Vickie...you're out of luck.  You're going to have to listen to me blather on for a bit as I have hijacked her blog for today.  It's not easy, I tell ya.  She's very nosy about what goes on around her computer, however, I find if I scatter some lindt chocolates down in her studio, it keeps her busy long enough for me to type for a while.   

So several months ago, I participated in an art swap organized by the wonderful Christi Friesen.  It was a blast and the piece I came up with, The Doctor, has inspired a new series of tiny, zany, sculptures that I will hopefully be able get out of my chaotic mind and into my Etsy shop.  The first one is the Gardener, shown below.  Enjoy!

I was, once again, travelling to the Other Side.  It was a Tuesday, I remember, because the Cafe had a special on Fluffernutter Crepes.  They always have that on Tuesdays.  After stuffing myself silly, I decided to take a stroll and try to walk off some of my marshmallow high.  I happened to noticed a tiny path veering off from the main street.  I almost missed it because it was tucked behind the "No Frumping" sign, but a very faint "meeping" noise caught my ear and my attention. 

When I say the path was tiny, I mean TINY.  Miniscule in fact.  It was quite difficult for me to tiptoe my way without stepping on the Borgus Buttons that edged the path on each side (you don't want to step on a Borgus Button.  Don't let the beautiful blossoms fool you.  The stench is sure to knock you on your butt and then the Gorlins come and steal all your gum).  Anyway, the "meeping" was getting more pronounced and I finally came to a small clearing. 

At first glance, it didn't look all that interesting, but then I noticed the tiny pots.  It was a nursery of sorts and I could even see a tiny glass greenhouse a few feet away.  I could see that the "meeping" was coming from these pots so I crouched down to get a better look.  That's when I was violently poked in the ankle.  I looked at the source of this rude intrusion and was very surprised to meet The Gardener. 

This wee little creature didn't say much, but I could definitely tell by the way he was glaring at me from behind his huge goggles, that he was very perturbed by my presence.  I carefully checked to make sure I wasn't stepping on anything, and then tried to assure him that I meant no harm, but was merely curious as to what he was growing.  He seemed a little suspicious still, but he was kind enough to stop poking me with his rake long enough for me to get a closer look.  I'm still not quite sure how to explain it, but I guess pictures are worth more words than I can come up with so, after getting The Gardener's permission, I was able to take a picture to share with you

They seem cute enough, but I'm not sure if I would be able to take one home with me.  From the look of the glowing goop that The Gardener was feeding them, I certainly don't think I would have the proper food, that's for sure.

After sating my curiousity, I thanked The Gardener for his time (he had already forgotten my presence and was focused on shovelling more dirt into more pots) and carefully picked my way back to the main road.  Once there, the lure of Fluffernutter drew me back to the cafe, where I sat to mull over what I had just seen and experienced.  Never a dull moment on the Other Side.

**Beep...Beep  That concludes this special service announcement.**
And as per usual with a blog hijack, this post was written by Sandy, not:

1 comment:

  1. I've stopped by to catch up on Vickie's creations this week... Amazingly, I can also view the creations of Vickie's creation, so to speak. Now stop feeding your mother chocolates, Sandy, and let her get back to work LOL. You have a wonderfully warped sense of weirdness, young lady. Witty. Just keep wingin' it.

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