Sometimes you wake up to a gorgeous, brilliant day
but things just don’t fit together right, and what’s happening
in your heart doesn’t jive with the cool breeze tangling in your
hair, or the baby birds singing, because you’ve argued with
someone you love and you can’t stop thinking about how
we’re irrevocably destroying this beautiful planet.
I’m preparing some musings on this latter subject for
posting later, but for now I just need a little cheering up.
How about you? You know what makes me feel happy
when I feel sad? Doggies! My dogs in particular, but pups
in general tend to make me follow their example in life
and forget my cares and just concentrate on what’s good,
like belly rubs and snuffling and prancing. My dogs are
really, really good at all of those things. The funny thing
is that I was never, ever a dog person until a few years
ago. I grew up with a big, sweet pit bull named Dot who always
wanted to be right in the middle of all my intricate games of
doll-dress up or castle-building and loved to slobber obnoxiously
all over my face. She was an amazing dog who gave me a big
soft-spot for pit-bulls (don’t trust the hype! They are wonderful
dogs!) If you don’t believe, just consult Gala and Hank! See?

(drawing by Brad Neely)
I used to work at Toy Joy, (the best toy store in the world).
So did Brad Neely, though he left a few months before
I started, so we never met. I came to adore him through these amazing signs
and doodles he left in his wake. This sign endorsing the hobby of vampire
dog-massage was hung up by the false mustaches. I have no idea what it
was originally meant to promote, but it’s one of my favorite things ever.
If you’re not familiar with his genius, go check out his work and this:

When I was in middle-school, I lived in a neighborhood with
lots of trailer-trash dogs. Mean, embittered Rotties and Chows
hell-bent on getting a taste of teenage ankle. We’d sneak out
late at night and walk around aimlessly, smoking and vandalizing
things and they were the monsters we skirted. They’d freak us out
by barking ferociously, alerting all to the fact that we were shimmying
out of our bedroom windows. Being chased by a dog while riding a
bike is one of the scariest things ever. I only got bit by a dog once, and
I guess it was sort of my fault. I got off the school bus one day, and this
little kid with a kool-aid and BBQ-sauce mottled face invited me to peer
under his trailer to see his new puppies. The protective mama mutt bolted
out from the shadows like a pudgy arrow and attached herself to my leg,
ripping my dad’s ugly green corduroy pants I’d taken to wearing everyday.
(I was in that adolescent phase of wearing your dad’s oversized, ugly old
clothes and being incredibly awkward. Remember that?) It left a nasty bruise
and some punctures, and taught me something about not messing with wild
mamas and their young. Years later, I found myself in New York working for
a few months. There was a period of time during my stay there that I felt
incredibly isolated and cut-off from my fellow humans. I was unused to the
lack of eye-contact and greeting that big city folk tend to protect their souls
with. I’m from the South, and we say hello when we pass you on the street.
Everybody had their walls up to me except for the street-people and the dogs.
The dogs were always happy to see me, eager to smell me and get to know me
whilst their owners would tug at leashes and roll their eyes, in a hurry to get on
with the business of walking. My feelings about dogs were changing, and I
began to respect and appreciate them in a way that I never really had.

This is me with Dougal and Selma the Sideshow dogs and constant
companions of Harry and Elizabeth Anderson. I liked it when people misheard Dougal’s
name as “Doodles”, so that’s what I called him. They would get so excited
to see me that they would pee a little bit. Now, that’s enthusiasm!

This illustration by Marjorie Moore reminds me of Grrizelda and I.
I’d been a cat person my whole life, but after my best cat-friend
Junior died after 21 years of companionship, I just don’t know
that I will find that kind of connection again. Don’t get me wrong –
I love our kitties Loki and Rusty Jack-knife (except when they’re
doing very evil things like knocking in the ceiling and slaughtering
baby birds) I never imagined I would have that kind of deep
bond with a canine. I never had a dog of my very own before, and
it’s pretty intense. It’s a bit like having a furry child that can’t really speak.
I am so grateful for the love and loyalty our dogs give us – I wish we could
go to the pound and adopt 20 more. One day. Walk out in the woods with
your dog, or be with them late at night when you’re alone in the house.
If they’re worth a damn, they will always let you know when they smell or
hear something that we can’t. Even the littlest dog will throw themselves
at a much bigger opponent to protect the one they love. That’s so amazing
to me, and such an inspiration. I’ve been thinking a lot about the way that
humans and animals can transfer love and healing to each other – have
you experienced that before? Whether it’s your cat making biscuits of ecstasy
on you, and purring like a motor or your dog wagging and dancing in
apoplectic spasms of joy to see you come home, I feel that there’s something
deeper going on there. I’m really interested in the beneficial effects of spending
time with animals for the ill and elderly. Have you heard about these studies on
dogs sniffing out cancer? Amazing. I think they make us better people. I hope so.

Also, sometimes you can dress them up as elephants! My dog lets me floss
her teeth. Can you believe that? I barely can. We’ve been training her to be
patient and tolerant of bathing, foot-handling and now maybe even
tooth-brushing? (Okay, I just tried it, and she totally let me brush her teeth!
Best dog ever!) Something else I just thought of — dogs in other cities are
different. On Lamma Island in Hong Kong, all the dogs I encountered were
totally indifferent to me. They ran in dirty packs of smallish scrappers, similar
to the curs of Mexico, though the Mexican beach dogs are far friendlier.
We had a pack adopt us in Tulum, and their leader, El Jackalito even
followed us to a neighboring village. French dogs seemed quite snobby
to me (though I found the people I met in France to be very sweet and
personable!) What can you tell me about the dogs of the world? Do you
like dogs? Do you have a dog of your own? Tell me a dog story, please!
Oh, and I was just alerted to this:
Antique Pups from Teenangster
(Thank you Oola!)
Further reading:
Dog Days
Corazones quebrados y perros ciegos

Here’s a mosaic of some images that I’m very much in love with right now:

1. halloween, by Annie Alonzi, 2. flowers, by Annie Alonzi, 3. Moth Mask, by Jhaan,
4. remember this by Annie Alonzi, 5. thanksgiving, by Annie Alonzi,
6. rare, by Annie Alonzi, 7. Untitled, by Lady Havisham, 8. Old Curiosities, by Lady Havisham,
9. close, by Annie Alonzi, 10. breakfasttime, by Annie Alonzi, 11. shadow, by Amy Earles,
12. Scar’s room, by Nadya Lev, 13. 32, by Nadya Lev, 14. [unknown], by Renee Dhoa,
15. front window, by Tamera Ferro, 16. Saw Whet on the Moss, by Big Brother Bear
As you can see, it’s most artwork by friends – particularly that of my
very dear friend Miss Annie Alonzi. She is amazing. I think she might
have revealed her true nature in the upper left hand photo, which I
am seriously obsessed with staring at. It makes me want to only dress
as beasts from now on. Not in like, a furry way. I guess. Um. Yeah,
anyways! Her artwork is extremely gorgeous, and she makes me
very happy all the time. Also, she has a friend named Soda Pies.
I think this week’s honeyed round-up is all about wild things,
forgotten places and people. I have long held a deep fascination
with feral children, raised by animals or no one at all. It all started
with Genie, for me, years and years ago. I need to write about her
properly and also show you the amazing doll Pandora made for my
birthday last year. She’s almost too special to share, but I think it’s
important, so I will – eventually. Back in New Orleans, in 2002, we
were doing our big Dada Balls. As hostess for each one, I would
build a character, and inhabit that persona for the entire night.
Who knew that the most difficult one would be the Feral Child?
I had hoped, that by embodying this wild being, that professors
and nurses would emerge – that I would encounter those who
would want to teach me, tame me, civilize me. Oh no. That was
not the case at all! No doubt, I was exasperating – scampering
over the tables. Wordless, howling, scratching, stealing things
and all – but I really imagined that some kind soul would take
me in hand and try and at least teach me language, or manners.
Mostly, I was treated like a bad dog. I didn’t speak a word all night,
and it was quite an experience. I recommend simulated lycanthropy
as an experiment for everyone, but just maybe not at a wild party
like I did. Especially not if there are raging rednecks who threaten
to knock your jaw in for lapping up their whiskey and getting your
muddy footprints all over the bar. A word to the wise, civilize!

Me as a girl raised by wolves.

Feral forever!
★ Eva Hornung has a new novel out, entitled Dog Boy,
that I am very curious to read. A review and excerpt are here:
‘Dog Boy’: The Complicated Humanity Of A Wild Child
(via Odette O.)
★ I adore thisCanadian insect collector who eats his specimens
Georges Brossard: “I dream about them, I eat them – I love bugs”
(also via Odette O, with thanks!)
★ Have you ever seen the mysterious olm?
Here’s some footage of the olm, a blind salamander
that lives in the Balkan caves. (via le Curio Cabinet)
★ Jugend, 1899 – you want to know what does it for me?
Symbolist magazine illustrations, that’s what.
★ A happy new blogly/photo/local-lady discovery: Search and Smoke
★ Atlas Obscura is the best thing ever, if you love traveling and exploring
the most bizarre and amazing places, that is. Even if you’re not in position
to travel anytime soon, you almost feel like you have after you spend awhile
perusing the wonders they have found for us. Lots of strange and wondrous
abandoned places! Such as: the once luxurious abandoned Prince’s house
in Abkhazia, and an entire island off of Japan, once densely populated
now abandoned – Gunkanjima Island. There’s also this very sad place,
Oradour – a French ghost town from World War II,
left as a memorial to German atrocities
★ “People talk in private about their dreams dying right now
due to economic contraction. But few will talk publicly.”
Arthur Magazine has an interesting article about talking openly
about the recession: DOES IT HURT? by Jay Babcock
★ One the other end of that spectrum, I want every single thing
on Gala’s Current Crushes Shopping List. Just so you know.
★ Oh my goodness, look at this uncovered gem:

Tom Waits on Fernwood Tonight in the late 1970’s
(via brainpicker extraordinaire, Maria Popova)
I just have to say: holy goddamn moly, Tom –
what a beautiful man you are! Look at those
gorgeous long fingers! He just kills me.

The first harbingers of spring, the knobbly-headed grape hyacinths!
Just at the point when we were all about to throw ourselves down
on the floor and throw a great big tantrum about the perversely long,
bitter-ass winter we’ve suffered, Spring steps in – gracefully beckoning
with tender green tendrils and heaving humid sighs on our skins newly
shorn of sweaters and leggings. We wonder what the hell to wear, and
shun the indoors, feeling newly hatched, bald and bewildered by the
softer air. Can I tell you how deluxe it is to plunge my hands in the earth
and wake up the very excellent worms that dwell there? It is very deluxe
indeed. Oh yes. I realize fully the extent of my winter puniness, but I am
not meant to freeze. My nose turns bright red, embarrassingly. I sniffle
and shuffle and clutch at tea-mugs and hide in bed. I become a strange
white grub, or cave-dwelling salamander. Not that come summer, I brown
in any significant way. I wonder what that would be like. Very perplexed
by the summer wardrobe. I think I might incorporate loads of black lace.

Our nectarine tree is so beautiful. The peach trees are blooming too.
On that tip, I was featured in a collection of pale Texan ladies that made
me proud of my pallor – Let’s make pasty hot. , compiled by Miss Tolly Moseley,
(aka. That Austin Girl) who is a super-sweet red-headed dynamo
who makes me cackle at stories from childhood summer camp,
pictures of her dad in drag, and her obsession with John Travolta.

My friend Annie Alonzi made this dress especially for me –
it was commissioned by my sweetheart, as an anniversary gift.

So sweet! I’m trying to get better about documenting my ensembles.
It’s pretty touch and go, since I usually don’t have much time when the
light’s good. Now that the days are longer, I hope to remedy that!

Golden-eyed Gala at Barton Springs, brandishing her wee friend.
The ever-adorable Gala Darling interviewed me in a style profile
for Chinashop Magazine – the first of many more, I hope, as I’ve found that
I discover a lot about myself when I take the time to answer questions. It kind of
forces me to articulate notions that otherwise just float around my brain like seaweed.
Perhaps it’s quite narcissistic, but I love being interviewed about almost anything!
I didn’t jump on the Formspring wagon, though – for various reasons, though I’m
sure it would be interesting. I love interviewing people as well – I’m a curious lady,
and I appreciate curiosity in others. As far as personal style goes, mine is going
through quite a transformation, so exploring it and nailing it down a little more
is helping me solidify where I’m going. Fashion experiments are going down, y’all!
A full SXSW rundown is coming, but in the meantime let’s just say that the city was
over-run with fancy ladies during this last week! Gala, Molly Crabapple, Anja Verdugo
of Clever Nettle and Miss Tina of Violetville Vintage were all in Austin, and most were
in attendance for Amelia’s fancy teaparty – oh, what lovely and convivial company!
Evidence:
The Birdy Teacup Teaparty
HOW TO THROW A VINTAGE TEA PARTY!

Sunset over Barton Springs, at the tail end of a gorgeous day featuring puppies,
beautiful music, good friends, fresh juice and much magic. Pretty damn dreamy.
See also:
Tiempo de la abeja y la flor