a story and a link

On a walk to the beach during my vacation, a young boy no older than 10 was selling little styrofoam cups full of lemonade.  As I approached, he said, "Wow, you are pretty.  A beautiful woman like you deserves some cool lemonade on a hot day like this."  The cost was fifty cents, but I gave him five dollars.  I arrived at the beach to find that almost every girl was holding the same style of styrofoam cup.  It would be interesting to check in with that rascal in ten years.  I'm sure he'll be doing just fine.

Besides getting root canals and having a fabulous vacation in North Carolina, I've been busy putting together a Fan Page and regular facebook profile.  All new artwork will be posted on the fan page for all to see.  An entire section of past works both available and sold are there for the viewing as well ;).
http://www.facebook.com/rozartist

root canals and happy endings.

If someone were to ask me, “hey, Roz, what is the stupidest thing you’ve done in the past five years?” I would first, weigh in the time I mixed copious amounts of beer, wine and tequila before sitting my carsick-prone self in the back seat of a vehicle, and the other time I mistook Nyquil for daytime cold relief, but in the end, not poking my head in for regular dentist visits would top the list.

That's right, lovers! Two uninsured root canals and one filing later, I’ll be saying a misty eyed farewell to both of my ovaries and possibly one of my kidneys as they must be sold and dispersed on the black market. Who needs ‘em?? My back teeth are of paramount importance to me! I need them for night time grinding and lettuce masticating. Not to mention all of those beer bottle caps that would thus go unopened!

My amiable dentist is a big, Star Wars loving Canadian. I asked him about the challenges of becoming a doctor without the ability to read or write. Were the textbooks all full of pictures and paint by numbers? And, yes, before he shaved his head, he proudly sported a mullet.

To open the root canal experience, I said I knew it wasn’t standard procedure, but could I please get a morphine drip? And, hell, let’s get a round of morphine drips for everyone in the building! It’s on me today!
At this dentist office, for whatever reason (possibly just to annoy the hygenists who, I am sure, have better things to do), they offer a paraffin hand treatment, warm neck roll, massaging chair, and unlimited cable tv watching during your treatment. My dentist said they would do everything to not only make me comfortable, but to "pamper" me.

In that case, I asked if he would massage my feet and play with my hair while the rubber mould for my shiny new faux tooth was setting. He said body rubs were not part of the service. I enlightened him to the fact that there is no way he can ensure my “comfort”, if he has no idea what makes me comfortable.

Pushing a long needle into my gums, he answered my next question before I could ask it, “And sorry, Roz, no Happy Endings.”
　　

Up and Open.

"I fell in love with a task master and he said emotions are something to consider only after work is done." $350

Getting all of the art up at Green Spoon went over without a hitch, thanks mostly to The Dad for developing an upcycled hanging ledge and wire system for the art. He was up on the ladder for hours while I was drinking wine with Katie at the bottom, both of us swallowing quickly to say, "...a little that way..." and "...up about three inches..." or "...okay, now down....too far!" Every time he moved the ladder, he had to remind me that I needed to help him. Is this just the beginning for the egocentrical artist inside of me? Oblivious to the pains of my father?

Let's hope so.

After hanging art, setting out the metal spoon "light" and bowl made of wrenches that dad gifted to the restaurant, Katie and Gene treated us to Thai pizza from the place down the street...I will insert the name here once I remember what it was. But, oh boy, Thai pizza...yum! I don't think I've ever had it so good!

I finished about five small pieces of quote art for Matter!, cranked out a few wholesale card orders, did ten sit-ups, and started on some mini word art paintings for my Bipolar Betty site this weekend. Also, I will be blogging here:
http://www.dearbipolarbetty.blogspot.com/ starting now, if any of you are interested.

My friend Robert suggested that I surf the web for an art grant that might suit my needs while nursing a bottle of wine. It's been a long time since I've heard a more delightful way to execute a task.


"Before she could fall, she first had to walk to the edge." $350


"The untouchable flowers of your fragile sea." $200


"We opened our mouths to the sun and kicked our shoes to the ocean." $200

green spoon.

On April 1st, chef Gene Soto and Katie Gonzales will open Green Spoon
restaurant in a posh posh location in downtown Walla Walla. And guess
who's artwork will be lucky enough to grace the walls? I'll give you
two (2) guesses:
1) she has purple hair
2) she has the attention span of a hummingbird

Thanks to my good friend Mister Manchester, there is printer stability back on the homefront
for the Bipolar Betty production (what a guy!)
While in Walla Walla on Friday to check out the amazing space, we also checked
out a little hip and happening jazzy wine bar with live music and possibly the
best pita and hummus I've ever put lips to. Unfortunately, my wild hand gestures
caused a wine glass full of flowers and water to go toppling over. Katie and I were
certain that the flowers were fake and, Why would they put fake flowers in water?
But chef Gene confirmed that, yes, indeed, they were real flowers and could he please
be seated somewhere else because we were cramping his style. We decided to replace
the "real" flowers with the faux ones that I had been wearing in my hair. Now, the idea does not even tread water, but at the time--we thought we were the funniest thing on earth. With "stage" face I whispered, "We have secretly replaced the real flowers with Roz Inga's faux accessories. Let's watch and see who notices."

Next to my favorite Pho place in WW is this long forgotten bar called McFeely's.
Really? That's brilliant! I am adiment that my father quit the farming business
and re-open the establishment. You can't see it in the photo, but in small print
it says, "You've had the rest, now try the best!" Love it!

In my studio I am listening to the audiobook version of Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk (I don't wanna die without any scars...), Silversun Pickups, Kimya Dawson, and Arcade Fire.

unfinished.

Took a few of my various Works in Progress out of shelter since
their conception to bask in the sun. It was the first semi-warm, sunny day
since....well, I want to say a million years, but it was probably November.
In my effort to Go Green and curb my addiction to canvas, there are a few fun
materials in the mix including an antique door and an antique window, courtesy once
again of my friends at Rustic Rooster in Prosser....

Just wanted to share.

testing....

***Mission Control to Satellite of Love, we have contact with
Roz Inga. Over.***

I spent a couple blissful days snuggling up to salty dogs, HGTV, sketching out random pieces of art with pastel and crayons (the kind of art you are free to do when you don't care what happens to it or who buys it), flipping through art magazines, eating my way through Portland, and watching my new favorite IFC show Portlandia. It is imperitive for my thirty-something year old liver that I cease from dairy and alcohol and processed sugar for a week (at least until Wednesday.). I want to say that I am a glowing piece of shiny happy person, but really, it's 1 o'clock in the afternoon and my over-indulgent vacation trained my brain to expect a glass of wine and a heavy meal by now. Of which
I shall be having none of today....I would put a smiling face there, but it would be a technological, abbreviated lie. By tonight, I am sure this cleanse will feel like a slow, roasting death.

Enough about me! How are you??
You are, at this moment, enjoying a randomly found suitcase full of money or some element of a charmed existence, I hope. Hey, it's spring--almost--and Bipolar Betty has new cards for you!

Buy Roz Inga (the art, not the person) at Matter!

If a Gallery could be my "bestie", it would be Matter! Gallery in
Olympia. Not only did the owner Jo inspire me to "go green" with
most all of my art, but they support both Bipolar Betty and Roz Inga.
Now, you can buy work directly from her site.
(click on the photo to visit me and enjoy the rest of her fabulous artists.)

Ahh...finally. New artwork recently released from The Viceroy show in Tacoma.
As always, price includes free shipping. Please contact me for additonal photos or other artwork details....
"Give me the fevers that just won't break and
give me the hands that are eager to take."
28x32
SOLD!
"A conversation with a long haul trucker who had a
corgi named Mobile and a mother named Pearl, but
could not get his fifth wife to stick around for the life
of him."
24x36
$350

"I saw tail lights last night in a dream about my old life."

30x30
$350

"I controlled the world. You controlled my heart."
24x48

$400

V-Day, baby

Well, I'm off to do some more Bikram Yoga in ten minutes. Forcing myself, really. It was a challenging morning, being that my printer went to hell in a hand basket, and my "work" area for Bipolar Betty stuffs could not be messier or more unorganized if I had two narcoleptic squirrels doing the filing. What can I say? I'm oranizationally challenged.

Oh, Happy Valentines day, by the way. I wish it would rain little vanilla scented gel hearts on V-Day...now THAT would be something to get excited about! Perhaps some rose scented bubbles floating in the air?? Get with it Universe!

As my Bipolar Betty shop announcement says, I will be taking a wee break for about ten days. I have a very sPeCiAl friend in town, art to teach to children, and unfinished wholesale orders to widdle away at. Not to mention a little of my own art to futz with. But that seems to be perpetually on the back burner.

If you want to learn about LOVE, I suggest you take a listen at Chromeo. These boys can really dig it.

beep. beep. beep.

That's right, kids: That's the sound of the Gravy Train backing up to my open mouth.

(If, that is, the said Gravy Train were full of Excitement and Pleasure.)

NEW Magnets from the crew at Minds Eye Cards!

Please click on the photos for a link to their shop.

Today is Thursday. This day for me means sitting around in my pajamas, cutting cards, copying photos, and organizing my world of complete chaos and disarray. Okay, I'll be honest,

it could take a couple Thursdays (perhaps a year of Thursdays?) to get that last part taken care of.

A Groundhog's Day Hello from Etsy

Etsy is like that person you had a crush on all the way through high
school, but figured that they never knew you existed. Until that graduation party
when they got drunk and said they always had a crush on you too.

That's kind of what today feels like. After reeling at a sudden burst of sales
this morning, I found out from my DEF (Dear Etsy Friend), ZJayne, that Etsy put me in their
mass "Etsy Finds" mailer in honor of Groundhog's Day. They featured my stalker card
Lick your Shadow:


I knew I loved Groundhog's Day for a reason! Well, the original reason was because
of Bill Murray and Andy MacDowell, but this is a sufficient second reason.
Also new in my cyber shop:

birthday weekend

My birthday went off swimmingly, I must say. My partner in crime Jake surprised me by stealing me away to get us matching finger mustache tattoos. What can I say? We rock the little “Frenchy” “Captain Hook” ink! My parents were astute enough to get me a Kindle, and I am pretty stoked about the purple case and storage capabilities. My first two downloads were Neil Gaiman’s Graveyard Book and Tucker Max’s I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. I was lucky enough to receive two cakes! One from my parents and one from my good friends Megan and Kevin from my one stop shop for antiques, Rustic Rooster here in Prosser. I can’t forget the superb scarf from Mr. Manchester (which wasn’t technically a bday present, but it counts.). I will be enjoying a steamy hot Bikram yoga class tonight, courtesy of Mister Mambo, Corey Gray and….

Heartbeats The Knife

The music of The Knife always takes me somewhere special.
This particular video makes me feel all cheery and ready
to do a sun and flower motif with chalk on a sidewalk somewhere..


Sadly, nothing new to post as I suddenly and unexpectedly developed a
routine where I make time for myself and accomplished very little this weekend outside of dreaming about getting a pony for my birthday and watching some recently acquired (and coveted) episodes of MST3K. It took a lot of discipline to just lay on my bed with a very needy cat on my belly and watch an entire movie, but I did it and I feel better for it. We all need rest beyond sleeping, people. Sure, I could have read a book, but honestly--sometimes that feels like work, too.

Set up new artwork at Whistran Brewery yesterday and had some of their delicious Steamy Cream! Did I take photos? Of course not. Because now that I am taking my camera everywhere, I can never find it. I need a row of hooks by the door for itemized things: A hook for my keys, a hook for camera, for eye glasses, for iTouch, for my Abby Normal brain. And if I enter the house without placing said item on appropriate hook, an alarm will go off similar to the one at the airport when you have change in your pockets and metal imbedded in your chest cavity.

Bipolar Betty is SOON to be at Zim Zim on SE Ankeny in Portland!


Also, some even more delicious new is that Minds Eye Designs will be using
a few of BB photos and quotes on napkins and magnets, etc.

I'm not an expert at success or anything, but doesn't this feel like the
beginning of world domination? Don't worry, I'll send the limo for you as soon as I've drank all of the champagne and eaten all of the gourmet peanuts.

Northwest Postcard

One of my galleries, Matter, has done a whirlwind of Bipolar
Betty and Roz Inga art sales in the past year and made it to a cushy
news spot last week ;)

how we kick it on Saturday nights in Prosser

Whenever I hear the name of film actor Gary Cooper, I think of two things:
1. My dad who, in fact, was named after him and
2. The part in Mel Brooks Young Frankenstein when, during a rendition of
"Puttin' on the Ritz", Gene Wilder says, "...just like Gary Cooper..." and, Peter
Boyle (the Monster) bellows the punch, "suuuuuper duuuuper!"

In my circle of friends, when I cover my mouth and cough while simultaneously exclaiming an
affection for some classic westerns, especially those including Gary Cooper or
John Wayne, I am suddenly marked for social death. It is then that my very
well-chosen, intelligent, animal loving, artistic, politically speaking on-the-fence and liberal friends sit up straight in their seats, spit out whatever was in their mouth, and assess me
with new eyes; eyes that are narrowing their crosshairs upon a possible threat.

From that moment on, their trust in me is tainted. I'll catch them skimming through my iTouch
for any one song by Ted Nugent or some streaming podcast hosted by Glenn Beck. I'll find the contents of my sock drawer on the floor and assume that they were looking for my gun and my well-worn, keepsake bible complete with highlighted passages throughout. My Native American friend Corey will casually mention his thesis paper on "The Exploitation of Native Americans in Hollywood" every time I see him. "I know they were exploited and negatively portrayed in most of the old westerns." Is what I tell him. His crosshairs fix on my throat, "Then how can you say that you like old westerns and still live with yourself?"

I can say it, because it's true. And I can say it without feeling like I am rooting for the enemy because I, Roz Inga (Miss Inga, if you're nasty) can discern fact from fiction historically while enjoying John Wayne's bossy banter or Gary Cooper's calm manliness. If anyone really thinks that Native Americans were the ignorant savages that the old classics portrayed them as, well, then, you aren't as smart as your chatroom girlfriend keeps saying you are.

And so, here we go! I am dragging my friend Jake "Goldfinger" Wigley to watch High Noon tonight at our very own Princess Theater here in P-Town. I am pre-mediatating my snack shop purchases, being that everything is only $1, there might be ten empty boxes of Dots in my lap
by the end of the night (all of which I will carry to the trash by myself, thank you very much.)

my audio coffee for today

what is your super power?

When people least expect it, like right after some serious thing has been discussed
and the room has fallen to silence, I blurt out, "So, what would your super power be if you were a super hero?"

One young girl at my shop said she could see really well in the dark, and I congratulated her on a pretty darn cool and useful (stalking) power. But, she said it wasn't cool enough and that she'd have to think about it and get back to me.

I think Bipolar Betty's power would be to make anyone fall desperately in love with her at will. She'd have to bat her eyelashes three times or snap her fingers in their face. Or it would be this....Oh oops, can't tell you what it was. But now you are in love with her and you can't help it, right?
Here are some new Betty cards now up in the Etsy shop:

Roz The Builder

Oh and I was a construction worker for Halloween. In case anyone missed it, I also sent the following "ad" to a few of my near and dear. (Yet, only one was actually interested in purchasing the item.)

New and improved Roz the Builder comes with all the
necessary accessories to be Ready and Fashionable on the
job site!

- pink hard hat (includes Union Pride sticker!)
- safety glasses (safety first, kids!)
- tool belt (hammer sold separately)

Buy now and receive a coupon for Roz the Builder matching
pink kubota loader!!

Push her bellybutton and she will say one of three phrases:

- "That dirt won't dig itself!"
- "I am not a construction worker, but I do play one in the bedroom."
and
- "Take this job and shove it!"

It's fun for the whole family!

when one more might break you

Trips to Portland never disappoint.

That one sentence really says it all, and I wish I could leave it at that.
I envy the type of people who, when I ask them how something went, they email
or say something so literal and void of description that I respect and loath them all at once. Short. To the point. And you can't whine
about how they didn't answer your question.

Just because someone doesn't flap their hands around, employ dynamic voice fluctuations and/or a sea of smiley face emoticons and exclamation points, while elaborating the emotional weather report for the entire trip and trips before that, doesn't mean that they didn't enjoy themselves. In fact, the way I read it is that they are only faking that they enjoy me. And they want to torture me. It's a test, I think, just to get me to ask: "Doesn't disappoint, how?" "Did it disappoint on a previous occasion?" "What music did you listen to on the way up?" "What color were the trees?" "Was it raining?" "Did you, at any point in the day, embarrass yourself in some grand way?"

But now I don't even remember what I was going to tell you about Portland. I'm lucky enough to get there at least once a month and getting to Portland consists of stopping in Hood River, another favorite spot. On the way back, dad and I were able to try out Everybody's Brewing in White Salmon. A clandestine establishment way up on the hill with a view of the mountains and the river, their microbrew was delicious.

At an antique mall in Sellwood, found---GASP!---a bunch of old typewriters. Thankfully, my good friends at Rustic Rooster in Prosser feed my habit by giving me deals on any antique typing gadget they can get their mits on. I type most Bipolar Betty Cards on a modern automatic, but I love to set the others around my living space and studio like art pieces. I am looking forward to the day when I can exclaim: "Don't touch that--it's an antique!"

"You're all very pretty," I told the typewriters in Sellwood. "But one more non-functional gadget might break me."

red flags and long nights.

For those who were waiting, the Betty Stalker Notes have been made into nifty cards, just in time for Valentine's Day. Or, the entire month of February, which is the unofficial Stalking Month as decreed by me.

I love my blogger friends who manage to capture their life with photos. As much as I love to read, sometimes I don't want to. Especially if it looks like a particularly long passage, or if I have my Bad Glasses on, like today. It is my goal to tote my camera around wherever I go, and I am not worried about the implications of manhandling it all day long, because it is really an awful camera. If I trip on a sidewalk line and crush the lens under my jagged hipbone, I might then allow myself to get a new camera. But THEN and ONLY then. Kind of like, how my converse are covered in paint, but I am convinced that they don't need to be replaced until I can see my socks through the soles.

I want to post a photo for you, but I can't. I forgot to bring my camera on the first day of camera-policy inception.

It doesn't look promising, gang. Not at all.

Check in January 10th for new art postings!

recent work

These two pieces were created exclusively for and sold to the Great Mister Manchester.
(he promises to make the cross country trip for my next show, top hat and monocle in place.)

inspiration

I sought inspiration for most of my Tacoma show artwork from the skillful eye of the Dance Commander. These were taken in a Honduran jungle.

occupy your every sigh, rent some space inside your mind

November 2010 show at The Viceroy in Tacoma, Washington.
Also known as "How to go without eating or sleeping for a month and produce an army of artwork".