Hinged pecan box with turquoise inlay above. Below, new painted and woodburned box tops in an anatomical vein. I've been into veins, bones, and organs recently. Plus, some more practice with faces.
We were accepted into the Art in the Park show in Dallas on Oct. 5! It's in the park directly across from the Dallas Museum of Art, and only 50 artists were selected to participate. We're thrilled.

My best friend of 24 years, Eva Radke, in most ways is a wonderful person, but I asked her to send me a black and white photo of her face so I could woodburn a picture of her, and she did not do it. So now she is publicly punished here- I image googled her, found a photo, and produced the woodburning below. It's not perfect, but it's pretty close to what she really looks like. Those twitty blondes are hard to do right. Send me a better black and white, you bad girl, and I'll try again.

On to the good about Eva: she is a green goddess. She has built a beautiful business (Film Biz Recycling) turning the film industry's trash into gold, and is always environmentally aware, and always doing good, beautiful, practical things with her hands. Hence I gave her the green and growing hands. Will Eva read this post? Or is she too busy not taking photos for me?  Anyway, my practice with faces continues.

Also in the green vein: a portrait of Joan Baez, who  is a real hero of mine. I am in total agreement with this facebook page.  Joan deserves a Nobel Peace Prize WAY more than that cult member Mother Teresa or our President (who is pretty busy not being peaceful now).

A new box: padauk with etched glass top and woodburned and painted maple base. The top is from an X-ray of hands, and I got in a really sweet lovey mood for the base (not hard when you're watching Tom make boxes). It's both anatomical AND adorable. It's also hinged. In case you can't tell, the glass top is only clear over the red heart on the base.

And my new woodburned face: Sylvia Plath, surrounded by crows. This one turned our really nice, if sort of goth-ish and disturbing. I still love Plath, although as I get older, I think Ted Hughes was actually a far better poet. If you haven't read his great book of poetry Crow, get to it.