I'm putting together a show for late spring at Place (a gallery space on the top floor of a fancy shmancy mall in Portland). Here's what my brain, body and fingers will be preparing for over the next 3 months: De-consume From outside it's glass doors, De-consume is set up to mirror a high end boutique, yet its interior exhibits objects, smells and actions not usually found in any store. Glass containers filled with mud, hair, pebbles, feathers, sap, chicken poop and moss sit upon shelves. Anatomically correct nude suits, (female, male and multi-ethnic) hang from the wardrobe rack. Perfume bottles containing organic tinctures and nut shell jewelry are showcased on the counter. The sound of the forest at night fills the space. De-consume is a reminder of who we are as mammals. It informs our playful selves and taps into the undomesticated. It's a place for rest, for wild movement and sound, for sniffing and tasting. It's a place to get naked in the mind and body. During the month there will be four "store events" (a few hours each) that would go as follows: 1. A simple meal (this will be a raw - and freshly picked from my garden - smorgasbord, prepared by yours truly) 2. Uncommon movement (participants will explore walking, sitting, and moving in all possible and impossible ways) 3. Group sniffing (willing participants will sniff each other in all possible and impossible places) 4. Mud roll (willing participants will roll around in mud)
resume
My updated resume: Felicity M Fenton - Mammal
Looking for an environment where I can bask in sunshine while mostly or completely naked, laugh, make things, and roll around in mud
Skills: breathing, arm wrestling loser, star gazer, kitty cat petter, dust removal expert, sponge ringer, out of window starer, hummer, snorkeling queen, bigfoot fantasy dreamer, pillow chewer, sandwich toasting expert, bike rider, teeth brusher, pot scrubber, under bed hider, warm coat filler, rug layer, drum machine wannabe, elevator rider, bear hugger, occasional porn watcher, page turner, plastic bubble popper, wig welcomer, word scribbler, blister wrapper, cheese curler, lymph node skeptic, internet peruser, time waster, etc., chortler, secret astronaut, fire maker, vegetable planter, ear dewaxer, Sicilian heckler, gam stretcher, upside down maker, food eater, vibrato carrier, heart lover, distant relative letter scriber, grandparental favorite, gas emitter, spice purveyor, planet ogler, hair flipper, kitty midwife, de-consumer, wandering eyes, snow angel, forest fiend, skin holder, blood warmer, toe crackler, tippy tapper, lonesome whistler, live lifer
Education: earth and dreams
References: my wife - Felicity (or the cats I live with)
tutu
I just got back my third rejection letter for my novel. I'm not discouraged. There is no pouting happening on this face. I will not slit my wrists and hang from a saggy tit. I will not wallow in drear while horses stomp all over my knees. I will not forsake my pen or the words I use (sometimes too often). Nope. Receiving a rejection letter for a novel I completed is cause for celebration. Bring on the tutus cause I'm still dancing.