It Ain't Easy Being Green

Erwin (an Escondido Humane Society rescue) reluctantly donates his winter coat to me.

Nothing like that proverbial "turd in the punchbowl" feeling that comes with seeing an official looking man with a clipboard, wearing an expression that says "Lady, I haven't smiled since I kicked that puppy across the street in Spring of '92". His eyes squint at my work as he asked me in a humor-less voice:


"So, tell me EXACTLY how you consider yourself green."

It's Earth Fair in Balboa Park, in America's "finest city" of San Diego. I am surrounded by thousands of people, browsing hundreds of booths. My neighbors include funky electric cars and vegan fare featuring, I am sure, free-range, no cruelty carrots. Not too many people seem to have a sense of humor... let alone one as warped as mine.

I guess people have come accustomed to 'Green = no humor factor'. To acknowledge being "green" is to plant on a holier-than-thou simper, and speak in a soapbox whisper.

Come on folks. Loosen up.

I took Mr Oh-So-Official on a tour of my booth. I pointed out that my sculptures are hand-made using recycled, sweaters, remnants and vintage fabrics. Almost all of it comes from thrift stores, garage sales and the occasional donation.

The felted wool-works that I show are especially "green". So many local students and farmers have the critter come shearing time, but no need of the fleece. I "rescue the wool" at shearing and then do all the skirting, scouring, dyeing, combing and carding *by hand*. Imagine nearly 200 pounds of wool rescued from local landfills!

How about my gorgeous and funky vests? Created with piles of useless neckties, even the buttons are recycled. I NEVER use "new" buttons. Where is the fun in that?

Finally, I pointed out my ceramic pendants. I use real leaves, flowers and seashells to capture the beauty of nature. You can't be any more green than that.

At this point, Mr "I Have No Humor" has agreed that I have earned my space at Earth Fair. I am indeed "green". But, I do have my twisted humor. I ask him excitedly "Come on! Don't you want to see my recycled cashmere zombies with the retractable guts?!?" He ushers a speedy "No thank you" like I had asked him to participate in a voodoo sacrifice and high-tails his clip-boarded self away from me.

Ok. It ain't easy being green. But it IS a lot of fun!

Therapy Doll: "Mary Has A Snit-Fit"

Some days, a situation leaves you speechless. But this day, I actually WAS speechless! A recent bout of strep throat left me without a voice. But as fate would have it... this is one day that a voice would have been most helpful.

I answered the ad for a local shop specializing in vintage, recycled and art. Boy, sounds like my kind of place. And just down the road too! So, I popped in to absorb some inspiration, and perhaps drop a bit of cash.

There I met Mary.

My years of hairdressing immediately grasped a head of hair, bleached to the end of its life. Heavy "cat's eye' make-up accentuated her suspiciously narrowed eyes. But her physical appearance was nothing compared to the waves of animosity that flowed from her petite fame. She had recognized me as being a vendor from another local show. Ok... there is nothing wrong with that. As an artist, I maintain a monthly curcuit of 5 to 7 shows. But this pushy pansy started to accuse me of showing up to her show merely to steal her ideas.

My whispered voice did nothing to match her frantic screech. After a good 5 minutes of her diatribe I was able to cut in to my defense. I asked her if she remembered my work. While I doubt that she actually did, she claimed that she knew it well. I then asked her in my scratchy voice, how in the hell would someone that specialized in cashmere zombies with exposed brains compete with "romantic french country"? Unable to answer, she huffed off. The encounter leaving me with the makings of...

Title: "Mary Has A Snit Fit"

Contents: Cashmere sweater, wool sweater, "green" wool roving

Status: Adopted by a very brave, patient woman. I wish you luck.