Restorative Jell-O

I restored Celeste's dress. Seemed like something I needed to do before moving along into this year's Jell-O Art. I pried off the excess of orchids and leaves that I stuck on there when I appropriated it for my 2011 sculpture. It looks magnificent in its simplicity and now it will get a corner of the Jell-O Art Museum in the full glory of itself.

I settled on a plan for this year's work, something I have been thinking about for a couple of years. I will do a miniature version of the Jell-O Art Museum (plan subject to change, of course...remember what happened to my well-laid plans last year when I broke my heel.)

So I interpreted Celeste's dress in miniature. Loosely interpreted, I should say. I plan to do this for as many of the famous Jell-O Art pieces as I can. It's a cute trick in many cases, and I love the scale of it.

It's a classic move to use Barbies or Barbie-size props in Jell-O Art. Her iconic being lends herself perfectly to the perverted kitschy kitchen-art aspects of using Jell-O for art, adding a layer of metaphor and familiarity, especially for those whose feminist thinking developed around Barbie's warped highheel feet and waspy waist. She's perfect for an apron, another iconic Jell-O Art object (say that with a French accent, please.)

My Barbie stand-in came apart years ago after I tried to get her out of a bath of Jell-O suds that had started to rot. You do not want to memorize the smell of rotten Jell-O, but it is an inevitable part of the total experience.


So anyway, I like using this artist's model that is about the same size. I have a Barbie dressing table and that jewelry case I found last month is on that scale too. I have a lot of photos of Jell-O of the past, and think I can make some recognizable replicas. I'm excited. And that is really the point of all this.