Living with Art: A Small Price to Pay

Sometimes, we have parties.  A frequent topic of conversation at these fiestas is our house – not, I might add, because of anything intrinsic to our house, which is a modest and unremarkable ranch home, but because of all of the art I have on display inside.  People love it.  Or it creeps them out.  But usually, they love it, and they wander about bestowing compliments, which, while not the reason I display art everywhere I can think to, certainly add some clinkity-clank to my love bank.

After a party in 2014, and I won’t say which one, I discovered this:

Missing Cards
One of many displays of Artist Trading Cards (ATCs) in my house

Now, to the untrained eye, that might look like a collection of amazing cards – and it is.  But it’s a collection that is down by two pieces.  Someone at a party stole art from my house.  Isn’t that sad?  You can see the gap where they used to be.  I  haven’t touched it or filled it with anything new.

I have thought a lot about this theft, first and foremost because it feels like a serious betrayal.  Yes, I put things on my walls for everyone who visits to enjoy, but I put them there because I love them, because they mean something to me.  Every ATC in my collection is personal for me.  Every ATC comes with a story.   I would almost rather the TV have been stolen than two of my cards, one of which was an Alice in Wonderland card created by one of my dearest friends on earth.  My homeowner’s insurance would cover the TV, which is just an object. They couldn’t reimburse me for ATCs if they tried.

I considered spreading the word among the party guests that I was missing some art, if only to make the guilty party feel guilty.  Then I reconsidered, though.  I thought:  If this art was so important to this person that s/he would steal it from my home, knowing that I would notice its absence, well, maybe that’s a testimony to the intense connection that human beings form with artwork.  And maybe it doesn’t matter so much who has those two cards as that they are held by someone who values them enough to violate strong social codes.  I mean, yes, that also sucks, but think about it.  It’s pretty powerful.

Anyway, I guess this is the price of filling my house with pieces of greatness: Someday, someone might be so drawn to one that s/he needs to possess it, no matter what.  That still seems like a small price to pay to live constantly in the midst of beauty and human creativity.

I won’t lock my ATCs down, and I’ll still have parties.

It’s all part of living with art.

Crochet Saturday: A Princess Bride Poll

If you are a regular reader, you may recall that I created some Princess Bride amis awhile back.  They were but poor, lost circus performers, and one of them might have been armed with a rock.

Fezzik Behind Rock
His way isn’t very sportsmanlike, but it is pretty cute.
Inigo with Sword 2
Did you kill his father? Tsk, tsk.

To my delight, someone contacted me through Etsy and advised me that he absolutely, positively HAD TO HAVE Inigo, Vizzini, and Fezzik for his cubicle.  Since I happened to have a set all ready to go for Awesome Con, I happily sent them out to him instead.  (When people have to have things, obviously, I have to help!)

A few days later, the same customer asked if I could possibly make him Buttercup, pirate Westley, and Miracle Max, too.  After I finish up with Awesome Con, I will be designing those three on commission.  Hooray!

My question is this:  Can I stop at those three?

What characters would it be inconceivable to leave out?  (These things take long strings of 14-hour days to design and test, so when you say inconceivable, make sure it means what you think it means.  Put another way, don’t just rattle off characters.  Give me only the ESSENTIAL!)