We are to undertake a journey. A journey that, while previously explored, is never the less relatively uncertain.
A journey to the state where it is perpetually Very Cold, where the snow comes down grey and yellow all over, and nobody drinks the water for fear of minute radiation poisoning.

'And where is this paradise?' you ask.
'Why, here in our very country!' I answer you.

It is that turnpike-riddled, round-about crazy, sub-urbianite laden, less glamorous counterpart of New York of which I speak.

Yes, the ever garden-y New Jersey.

I can practically see the glow-in-the-dark snow from here.

I have made cheese! On purpous! And it is good!

This makes me feel extremely powerful, and also rather ecstatic.

I took milk (and water and rennit and citric acid) and heated it and made something edible!

No, more that just edible. Likeable! Delicious! YUMMY!

Happy Mardi Gras!

I am paper-mache-ing a cheap plastic Mardi Gras mask from A.C. Moore.

I didn't do any research on paper-mache beforehand ( my only memory of it involves a baloon and an oven), but I have a modicum of common sense, so I just slathered that sucker with petrolium jelly and started up. It is really a lot easier than I thought it was going to be, which only re-enforces my belief that I AM A GENIUS.

Of course, now I also see why paper-mache Mardi Gras masks are usually in the "ridiculosly expensive things that I will never, ever use, but simply must have" catagory.

Tedium, thy name is sculpture.

Although I probably shouldn't complain. As humans, we seem to be drawn to all things beautiful and/or handmade. People will pay through the nose for beauty. We crave what has been made by hand.

Good thing I love doing messy, hands-on artwork that produces beautiful results, then.