About Me

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Prosser, Washington, United States
artist, writer, un-organizer, cat snuggler, hug smuggler, red lipstick wearing giddy sassbag of a card peddling nerdface.

Monday, January 31, 2011

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….

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

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.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

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 ;)

Saturday, January 15, 2011

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.)

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

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:

Friday, January 7, 2011

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."
- "Take this job and shove it!"

It's fun for the whole family!

Thursday, January 6, 2011

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."

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

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!

Monday, January 3, 2011

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.)


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".