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Diva's Challenge 120, Bales Tangleation... Not much of a tangleation, but I did use Bales in a new way :) Pigma Micron 05 in dark brown, shaded with Inktense in Bark (before applying water).
11-03-11
Clockwise: Talbert | Westminster | Victile | Quatrefoil
Step-by-step guides for these four patterns are available at my blog: perfectly4med.wordpress.com
This is what it looks like on the inside. I've not quite finished painting the walls yet, but I couldn't wait any longer to see how it looked stuck together!
I've based the wall designs on those by Claire Keane for Rapunzel's tower; they're reproduced in detail in the book 'The Art of Tangled'. Obviously this is a diorama, rather than a faithful representation of the tower per se, but I hope that it gives a sense of the feel of the original inspiration material.
Sketchbook page;
Pattern name: DELSOL;
Inspired by open-work wall and balcony tiles, used liberally in Spain (Costa del Sol). Lots of variations possible...
More variations here: flic.kr/p/dR3hj1 (Salmon, by lacey709)
I just felt like I was reaching and growing with this one. H2O and salt background with micron and identipen. 9x6
Just a pair of shoe laces!
7 Days of Shooting Week #29 Pairs Texture Tuesday ....
Thanks to everyone who views this photo, adds a note, leaves a comment and of course BIG thanks to anyone who chooses to favourite my photo .... thanks to you all.
This picture is copyrighted. Please do not use it anywhere without my explicit written permission and proper credit. All rights reserved - Copyright © Helene Iracane
Finally, I finished tangling one of the folded boxes Beate Winkler showed us at the European CZT meet-up in Competa. I think these would make a nice Advent calendar... only I need to make 23 more :)
The thing about The Mole was that he knew all of the players.
He knew everyone in the department.
Shit... he even knew the people they knew.
The Mole knew their wives, their girlfreinds, their mistresses, their enemies, their kids... he went to their weddings, their kids communions and their funerals... he gave them advice when they found themselves all jammed up.
The Mole used to be 'family.'
He knew who owed who a favor too.
And why.
The Mole rose through the ranks and was being groomed for the Chief's position until he got screwed because of politics and he was forced to retire.
He blamed it all on 'The Old Man.'
And he genuinely felt wronged.
The Mole was pretty bitter about it even after all these years.
He felt used and let's face it... no one likes to feel used.
That kinda goes without saying but that feeling was really the core of his motivation here.
About half of the department hated the guy and the other half loved him.
The guy was 'politics' personified.
He had connections everywhere though.
Solid connections.
Even on other departments.
The Mole knew who could be trusted and who could not.
And if he didn't, The Mole knew who to call to find out.
If he said a guy was good... the guy was good.
He never seemed to be wrong.
Not once.
If he told me to 'watch out for that guy' you can bet I'd be careful with that one.
He was right on that note more than a few times and his advice definitely saved me from some grief.
The thing was... like me... The Mole had a score to settle too.
He was 'the enemy of my enemy' and that's what made everything fall into place.
'What they did to you and your family was wrong' he said... 'these people got no sense of decency... all you asked 'em to do was the right thing and they just couldn't bring themselves to do it... my heart goes out to you."
Then he'd tell me all about what they did to him.
We had a common enemy in the 'regime.'
And it would bring us both untold amounts of joy and satisfaction to see that regime fall.
It would also bring us a lot of hurt before it was over.
The Mole told me about Skeevy... the former Chief who now worked for another department... he was still pretty much running Deadwood... because Deadwood's chief was an idiot.
Skeevy was the guy that got the idiot the job.
And he did it to maintain some power within the regime... the new chief was his 'made man.'
He was his 'representative' on the inside now that he was out.
Skeevy had interests to protect and secrets to keep.
And the new chief 'Hot Dog' owed him everything.
Chief Hot Dog would fall too before it was all over.
The Mole was always there for Skeevy when they worked together... but Skeevy threw the Mole to the jackals after he had no more use for him.
The Mole really resented that on a deeply personal level.
It was one of the things that I could tell really hurt him inside.
Knowing where the strings were being pulled from and who was pulling them helped me a lot.
Now I could understand the 'why.'
The first time The Mole and I hooked up on the phone I was really nervous... I mean... I didn't know the guy... I didn't know if he was one of them or what.
It was true that 'Double D', my Godfather vouched for him and all, but still...
I could be spillin' to an infiltrator.
I could be tellin' them everything I knew.
It left me feelin' kinda exposed.
So the first few conversations were just us 'feelin' each other out.'
I kept the information tight in the beginning... I had some good dirt... I had loads of really good dirt but I'd let it out a little at a time to see if the mole was leaky.
Sometime's I'd let go of a juicy piece of 'misinformation.'
Just to see if it got out there.
I'm sure The Mole did the same thing.
There were a half a dozen guys feeding me information... but none of them were as dedicated to screwing these guys as The Mole was.
And none of them had as much information.
I was always really protective of my sources and no matter how much I trusted anyone I never let out the names... that was pretty much a given from all directions.
If I guy thought you were a 'loose cannon' he'd dry up with the information right away.
The Mole knew I wasn't a plant or anything... the story was all over the newspapers and on tv.
My picture was in the papers too.
They interviewed me on TV.
They had me talkin' on the radio.
In London even.
It was pretty obvious that I had a score to settle.
The Mole saw our working together as an opportunity to advance his agenda and I saw him as a great resource in understanding the relationships behind the names.
I knew the 'who' but it was only because of The Mole that I'd know the 'why.'
All along I'd been taunting them on the internet.
I wanted to shift the 'battle' there after the firebomb incident.
It was always David versus Goliath and the internet was my slingshot.
I let them know I wasn't going to back down... that I wasn't afraid of them and their badges and their guns.
The media was on my side too.
They loved the story.
At least the parts of the story that they knew... and that was just the tip of the iceberg.
The whole thing was such an irony and it made for great soundbites.
It didn't take long for The Mole and I to gain each others trust and respect.
I genuinely liked the guy... we became good friends and we looked out for each other... we had each other's backs through the whole thing.
Our relationship was like two guys playing a very important and strategic game of chess against the regime.
We started to bounce every move off of each other.
We'd discuss the ramifications of putting this information out... who that would piss off... whose toes would get stepped on by that comment... where it would seem like that information came from...
We debated what hand that we'd play... what cards we'd hold and where we better fold.
The Mole was ever cool and The Mole was always calculated.
The Mole was also pretty paranoid about things.
He'd pause when we spoke on the phone and there was a strange clicking sound... 'did you hear that' he'd say.
He thought that they were tappin' the phones.
At first I just kinda laughed it off as conspiracy babble but later The Mole'd be proven right.
The Mole was always right.
He knew what these people were capable of.
He knew what they'd done before.
The Mole always told me to watch my back.
He'd been to hell and back in Vietnam in the late sixties and he would say 'man if I had you on my side when I was over there we'da won that war.'
The Mole loved to tell stories about what went on there on the inside.
He told them really well... he was a great story teller and I really enjoyed listening to the tales.
Some of them scared the shit out of me.
He told me about 'Secret Squirrell'... the officer with a fetish for high powered weaponry... the one who drove around with a trunk full of weapons that would make Al Quieda jealous.
Wasn't it Jesus who said 'know your enemy so you can screw them better'?
Wait, that was Sun Tzu... the ancient Chinese General that wrote the book 'The Art of War' which sat next to my computer on my desk through this entire debacle.
I'd find myself referring to 'The Art of War' almost on a daily basis.
Jesus said 'love your enemy' and that was just as good.
Ask anyone going through a divorce.
I loved to hear the stories about their exploits.
The stories painted a picture in my head.
And I'd use that picture to get in their heads.
After a while I started to feel like I knew people I had never met.
I knew who left her checkbook in the mayor's truck.
I knew that the mayor's wife found it.
I knew that the mayor's wife knew about it and she said to a friend 'why would I want to divorce a millionairre?'
I also knew that that woman who left her checkbook in the mayor's truck later 'won' the village's charity raffle for the Jeep Wrangler.
Legend had it that she was actually ordering the options before the raffle even took place.
She insisted on leather seats and a CD player.
The Old Man was the one who drew the 'winning' ticket.
The Jeep was 'hush money' and everyone knew it.
That's how this kind of corruption works... the people doing it don't consider it evil... but they know it's wrong... kinda like lying to a chick you really wanna score with... tellin' her you know somebody you really don't just to impress her...
What they do know is that if they get you in to it they can keep you there.
You'll be on the inside forever... or at least until they don't want you there.
I make it so you win the Jeep, you ain't gonna say I'm corrupt.
You might whisper it... elbow it around in closed company and stuff... but you ain't gonna go on some 'anti corruption crusade.'
Because you're just as dirty now.
You're one of us.
Corrupt is corrupt and the only difference is in the amount of the corruption.
The Old Man was the king of corruption.
I don't even think he did it so much for 'personal gain.'
I haven't heard a single tale of him putting any dough into his bank account.
It was pretty clear he was using the taxpayers money to maintain some of his property... even improve it... but I think he looked at that as makin' the town a better place to live.
He just happened to make a lot of money off of it at some point.
'The Old Man' graduated from the 'Polish School' of politics... the philosophy was 'we're all gonna work really hard... we'll cut up the pie and everybody who tows the line'll get a piece... but if you don't tow the line not only will you not get any pie but I'll crush you with my iron fist.'
The Old Man liked to tell people that he 'ran this town with an iron fist.'
At a council meeting once when he was trying to get a garbage incinerator built on some property he owned... a deal that would've made him a substantial amount of money... and he wouldn't let opponents of the deal speak... he said:
'This is my democracy.. I started it' he said 'if YOU want a democracy you can go start your own.'
He was a tough old bag... I really kinda admired him for that... and in almost forty years of runnin' the place he'd never gotten a 'no' vote from his rubber-stamp council.
If you were on The Old Man's good side you were golden.
You got on his bad side and you'd come to learn what he meant by 'iron fist.'
The Old Man got rich in trucking and transportation.
He didn't need the money that all the corruption around him made.
I don't think he took a penny directly.
He spread it around.
He gave it back to the people in the form of a tax rebate.
It was in his mind the way that Robin Hood would do it.
Which was ironic because the Old Man was rich.
'Turning his head' and spreading out the money became the source of all of his political power and he knew that better than anybody.
Until I came along nobody had ever gotten in his way.
It all started in that dark parking lot on a cold December evening.
They were the ones who started it.
Nobody ever thought that would be the spark that brought it all down.
Like most wars, nobody involved at the beginning even knew that a war had been started.
Not even me.
And I just happened to find myself right there at 'ground zero.'
Blue Tangle Toy stress reliever
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Title: Tangled Furbelow
Size: 15.5" x 19"
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas mounted on Fabric, with Bamboo Rod
Artist: Thaneeya McArdle
© Thaneeya McArdle - Please do not use this image without permission.
his scroll painting is a fun twist on my abstracts. A painted canvas was hand-sewn to a lovely piece of turquoise/gold fabric. At the top I have attached with two loops of braided black yarn, for holding a gorgeous piece of black bamboo. This painting is incredibly detailed; writhing with numerous colors and various designs which symbolize the endless energy and flow of spirit and matter. My abstract paintings are very process-oriented and carry a spiritual meaning related to the mystery of existence and a reverence for the unfolding process of life. While working on paintings that are this detailed and colorful, I become so immersed in the work that applying paint becomes a meditative process through which I strive to achieve balance amidst chaos (similar to the concept of mushin). The colors and designs arise spontaneously and reflect my interest in tribal and aboriginal art, specifically in the act of storytelling through nonrepresentational means. My abstract art is also heavily inspired by my world travels, particularly my visits to remote tribal villages in the Kutch region of India, as well as my visits to temples and roadside shrines in Sri Lanka, India, and Nepal.