We have T-Shirts!

I managed to get some t-shirts made. After seeing the poster made by an actual graphic artist, I felt a bit intimidated but forged on anyway. We wanted to honor St. Aretha of Franklin this year so I took an iconic photo of her and Jell-O-ized it.

Being lazy, I only wanted to make two screens and print two colors, but it just wasn't enough, so I've ended up taking my Sharpies and coloring in her earrings. I do like it better that way.

I also spent a few hours dusting off a lot of Jell-O pieces for the workshop and show. I like taking out the Jell-O Art Museum for a spin once a year, even though it isn't really the whole thing. I have an attic full of odd pieces that I don't think I'll bring out this year. For one thing, one carload is plenty. I don't want to make too many trips across town, risking things falling apart and getting damaged. Plus dusting and repairing them takes a lot of time I'd rather spend gardening on these beautiful spring days we are having right now.

But shirts had to be made, so here they are. I held back from filling up the open space with more information or drawings. Let it be inferred that music began with St. Aretha. No reason to stick too closely with the theme, anyway.

Original print, without the hand-coloring:

Improved version

Shirts! And Stuff.

We will have t-shirts. It was super hard this year, because I keep forgetting how old I am and how hard screenprinting is getting. I got too ambitious. This is a three-color waterbase, and it is wide, way wide. I don't even have a squeegee wide enough anymore. Printing waterbase has to go quickly, because the ink dries in the screens, so I knocked myself out but I did make it through and turned the screens upside down for a few tote bags too. I was worried about the black printing over the colors but I used the flash to dry them and all four platens so I got great results with that. I guess my main problem was that I had to use my poor body in ways it has not been used for several months, and it wasn't happy about it. Guess I'll go back to printing one and two color only and stop trying to make pearls to set on the table for cheap.

You can only get these shirts at the show, and they are traditionally only ten bucks because it makes no sense to have a bunch left over. I don't mind giving some away, except that I worked so hard I don't think I should. I think I'll give out some half-price coupons maybe. Really ten dollars is a ridiculous price for a shirt of any kind, much less one like this, so maybe I'll just grin when people ask about shirts for free. I thought about saying, "Do you know how insulting that is?" but that would just be mean. I'm the one who gave so many away that people got the idea that they should get one for free.

So that's done, and all the props are done too. I didn't make many this year, and had help with those. Jacque made the cool horses and Annemarie made a bunch of bright surfboards and other accessories that will look fantastic on stage. We are bringing some palm trees out of storage. Mostly we won't have many props because the stage is so full of people. That's fine with me. I still haven't gotten my taxes done, so there was no way I could have put the time in on set pieces that I did last year.


I missed that time, though, always a lot of fun for me. I love creating illusions out of cheap posterboard and markers. I thought last year's props were outstanding and really set the scenes, but they weren't exactly necessary. They just create the layers of meaning and visual richness that I love and I particularly love the funky way we get to do it for the Jell-O Show. It's supposed to look homemade. That's part of the charm.

I do kind of wish for the shirts that I had added this one more layer of detail that I left out, the warped grid that made the gravitational waves look more 3-D. It would have made the printing even harder and probably would have meant making extra screens to try to get all the detail in. I briefly thought of adding some handpainted detail like I did last year, but I won't. They're done. I have actual paid work I am supposed to do this week. Today I can't, because my days of fulltime printing are over, but tomorrow I must. At least some of it. And then more practicing, and then comes Saturday, and tra la la! See you at the Gallery!

Jell-O Art Show T-Shirts

There has been a distinct lack of motivation pervading my workshop this winter, a carryover from last summer and fall when I had to force myself to work, and only because I had customers depending on me. For myself, I'd like to put screenprinting into the "if and when I feel like it" category. I've just spent too many years doing it. Once I get going, I can finish the jobs that are the most pressing, but others get set aside and intentions go astray. I guess that is why they invented retirement. My body is also worn out from it, and sooner or later it has to end for real.

But there is a grand history of t-shirt production for the Jell-O Art Show and that job will probably stay on my list for as long as the Jell-O Show does. They started with the second or third show and my ex-partner Mike did the first one, a direct take on a Jell-O box, just black on white with red lettering for the word Jell-O. The second one, I did, but it was much like the first, just adding the word "Rama" and there may have been a short gap while we restructured our partnership. I had John in 1990 so I think 1994 was the first year I really did a shirt. As part of this piece, the first incarnation of the Jell-O Art Museum in 2009, I made posters of the shirts and added a third a few years later. The items on the wall fit into that box, and lots of dried gelatin was glued to the posters. It's up in the attic waiting for that call from the Smithsonian.

So in answer to your question, yes, of course, there will be t-shirts this year. Limited edition, with a few old ones still left over for cheap. Thinking vaguely of images that will fit the theme, Jell-O Waves, or will refer to some aspect of the performance. Or maybe not refer to anything, but just be an image I feel like putting on a shirt. The beauty of the task, and the reason why I am sure I will still do it, is that I get to do anything I want. No one gives me any limits whatsoever on the shirt project, and it's all at my expense, so if they don't sell, that doesn't really bother me. I like to outfit the Angels and the Jell-O Artists and every year I say nobody will get one for free but then give most of them away. The group is really large now, though, so I hope I will ask people to at least pay the shirt cost. Sometimes people don't value what they get for free, and as you can see from this evidence, these shirts are cool and if you have one, you have cool credentials like only a few people get.

 As you can see I have often recycled pieces of the art and some years I get really fancy with the inks. The photo in the center is the 1999 one, worn as performance art as my piece was a Jell-O molded right on my head, which was very successful. I got the idea from the Supremes. The shirt just said "Are you ready for Y2J?"

1995 was probably the most beloved and the screens are ruined or I'd be tempted to reprint it. I love Jell-O Soul a lot and also the Jell-O Wranglin,' but there have been a few duds. The disco one with Donna Summer on a plate with a lettuce skirt was not so great but it did get printed on orange shirts which made it a keeper for those lucky people. Mostly they have been on white and lots of people refuse to wear white. People took the too-sexy Jell-O Fever one reluctantly but it is one of the most ambitious ones in technique, so I love it, though rarely wear it. My Planet Jell-O one is ruined with paint so if you have one you don't want anymore, I'll take it. Never give these shirts to the Goodwill, by the way. I will take them, and maybe even give you money for them, so that my collection will be complete. The cleaner the better. I collect all things Jell-O, of course, so think of me. I seriously do have a Museum of Jell-O Art, which takes up half the attic and half the project room, and someday I will retire and just live to maintain the collection and show it by appointment. Old recipe books and graphics are most welcome. I have a few, but you know how collectors are.

 Though white gets frowns, people do seem to like pink. This year I had probably better choose some watery color. There are, at present, so many interpretations of waves that I have no idea which one I will settle on. As you can see we did Airwaves in 1998 and I used an old radio graphic, so that's out. I was a big Beach Boys fan back in the day, even stood on my chair and screamed and stood by the exit to touch Denny's hair. Poor boys. I was probably thirteen or so, and that is probably the most music crazy I ever got. I bought half of Meet the Beatles (wish I had it now) but I don't think I saw the Beatles. I saw the Stones with an inch-high Mick Jagger in Philadelphia, but I truly did love the Beach Boys and they were all up in my junior high and even high school romance fantasies. So yeah, maybe them. Waving.

Write or Do?

It's March! The Show is in three weeks and a few days! Panic time...what am I doing? At least last night I got some ideas for the t-shirt design, which is a big part of what I must get done. No big reveal though. I was looking for an icon to use, something from the poster, something from the performance, something cute that I haven't used before, something that will speak to the theme...overwhelming. At least the poster solves the lettering issue for me these days. Thanks, Jacque!

Vintage shirt 

As a person who loves type and hand-lettering, I always want to do something original, but it gets harder and harder as I get farther from the world of graphic arts. One reason I get obsessed with the props is that I get to make them by hand, in the old fashioned Xerox art mode, doing collage or kitsch or whatever I want. I'm in charge. I don't have to think about sales, or inventory, or the many limits of making things for retail sales.

That's the key to Jell-O Art for me: it isn't for sale. Of course with the t-shirts I do sell them so I do have to think about all those things, which is probably where the panic comes from and why I often leave that part for the last minute. This year I committed to buying the shirts really early for other reasons and now I really have to make it happen so that investment pays off. Last year I lost money...usually I break even, which is fine, but it would be nice to do something people love so they will pony up the $10 and I can make a good donation to the gallery too. So a little pressure. No Shirley Temple to work with this year.

But I think I have a handle on that, and a few of the props are either made or quite clear in my visual memory so they will be easy to finish up. The Tacky Food is pretty easy: I get out a box of candy molds and mix up some edible Jell-O and spend a good amount of the last couple of days making little Jigglers. They get eaten. Last year I tried the complex injected technique you can find all over the internet but this year I won't do anything fancy. I do have to clean my entire kitchen and refrigerator, but that needs to be done anyway.

The Radar Angels, lots of individual depictions of the various people.

Costumes, check. Some sewing and accessories, a couple of run-throughs to see if there is time for changes and if there are too many details to be practical. But the Jell-O! What am I doing?

I really have no idea. I guess clearing my list of other things does help. I mailed my taxes yesterday and that was a relief. I studied up on Australian birds for my trip. I looked at the Italian CDs and the stack of books and despaired a little, but there is still some time. Jell-O happens in March but the trip is not until April.
After the opening of Market. Saturday Market! How will I be ready for that! Country Fair! Deadlines and details!

It's not really a panic. I'm just trying to write a lively blog after writing a dull one in divinetension.blogspot.com. I'm hoping some ideas will come to me about my sculpture. I could make it about the odyssey of collaboration, how difficult that is for me. Dull. I could comment on the odyssey of life. Too broad. I could find some new technique...after 27 years I'm not sure that is true. I could default to dried and make something spectacular. Tempting. Like a big giant....goddess! Cruise ship! Island!

One of the Radar Angels...I don't remember who.

No, no and no. Ideas to reject are a start I guess. I don't want another giant thing to try to wedge into my project room, which is already full of big Jell-O pieces. I think I should go jiggly. That means getting a concept and then unpacking the boxes of molds and things I have collected, making a new mess. I suppose that is inevitable. Not today though. We meet tonight and I have to practice my kazoo.

Keep thinking! Brilliance and inspiration don't come easily. Sometimes the incubation period is happening inside while you are doing other things. I'll just do other things then. Hope your piece is forming in your creative recesses. Enjoy the ride. Three more weeks and a few days and it will all be over but the posting on Facebook.

Busy Buzzy Slippery Sloppy Jiggle

It's going to happen! The Jell-O Art Show is just around the corner. This Saturday!

The Jell-O Project 2009

 We have two more rehearsals and then the show will go on...no more secrets, lots more laughs, and then it will all be history: my stage debut, hilarious costumes, excellent sets and props. In the space of about 15 minutes my life achievement bar will be raised a little higher.

I keep trying to tell myself that all of it is not a big deal. Hundreds and thousands of people perform every day, with varying degrees of professionalism, and the performances that give the most satisfaction are the ones in which the performer herself is visibly enjoying the process as well as the transmission. I keep reminding myself how much I am enjoying the process.

I like being a little obsessive; it makes my art feel important and compelling. I don't think it matters one bit that my obsession is focused on Jell-O Art. I love going from piece to piece doing the next steps all at the same time...there is always some detail to pin down before cogitating on the next one. Sometimes I have a vague idea to start with and the final product is something completely unimagined until it emerges.

Creativity just builds on itself. I suppose it collapses at some points...I'm pretending that can't happen, and will deal with it on Sunday after the show. I do not have to be creative one whit on the day after the Jell-O Art Show. I do not have to go on the radio or the TV or answer my phone or anything else if I don't want to. 

But from now until Saturday at 8:00 pm I am ON! Working steadily and relentlessly to perfect what I have finished and finish what I have nearly perfected, I am starting to have a little trouble sleeping.

That's not a bad thing. On Thursday I have to get up really early and create the Jell-O Art Museum on my front porch for KEZI-TV. It will be a bit of a practice run, a bit of a workshop on making Jell-O Art, a bit of historical celebration of my outre ouvre, a bit of acting, some major silliness, and it could go viral if it is delightful enough. 

I've pretty much dropped off the internet radar since my big push to be a famous Jell-O Artist a few years ago. You have to maintain your fame in the intertubes. I've never done a TV interview before. I hadn't ever done a radio interview before either, but Michael Canning at KLCC made it easy (no small thanks to Radar Active, a seasoned promoter of all things Jell-O). It was all over in about five minutes and lots of smiles were exchanged.

And so it will be with the TV, and then with the show. I realized that some of the set pieces I have been slaving over for weeks will be displayed for maybe 60 seconds, or maybe even the 15 or 20 minutes of the performance, and then will be artifacts of little usefulness. (Which I will save for the Museum of Jell-O Art, of course.) So the point is easily seen to not be the final product, or a product at all.

This is something truly ephemeral, something meant to last for only a few hours at most. Anything I try to do to extend its life or magnify its importance will all be lost in a few hours, except in legend.

One of the best things of the last few days was reconnecting many former Jell-O Artists with their Jell-O histories. They haven't forgotten them, but I have only vague memories of most. It is so fun to meet up with someone and have them describe to me, in detail, the classic or failed or ridiculous Jell-O pieces they have made. People remember their fun!

I've started trying to make a list of each year, the theme, and my piece, which may not be as hard as you think, because I have a lot of those old-fashioned photos, the ones on paper. And I have t-shirts, a t-shirt for every year except the first few. Mine started in 1994. I know Mike Martin made one earlier than that, but I don't have it handy. It was just a big Jell-O box with the lettering in red on a white shirt, I think. I used the art again in my first one, 1994, when I made it into Jell-O-Rama. I have faithfully created one each year.

I love these particular shirts, the Jell-O Collection. I get to be completely self-indulgent with the design, and don't care whether they sell or not...if they don't, I give them away to the artists and performers. I sometimes refer to the theme, sometimes quite loosely. I always do them at the last minute, though this year I did it last week, and finished them just in time to get one on TV via MKAC. 

Yes, the Jell-O Art Show costs me three months of productive work time, several dollars in bulk gelatin, blank shirts and piles of art materials, but the payoff is huge for me. Fun like I rarely seem to have it, fun that engages every part of me. Each year I stretch, whether it be in gelatin technique or concept, or in putting on a show as I am doing with the group this year. Fun that builds on itself, does not consume energy without a giant net increase, art that has legs.

This stuff is seductive, brilliant, and delightful, and I know I am not the only one who feels this. Countless onlookers have been engaged and brought into our Jell-O Art world, despite the fact that there are even a few people on my *friends list* who have never seen it, and don't get it. 

Once you are in, you can see where it goes, even if you don't want to go there too. That's okay, just wait. Someday you will see something like gelatin bubbles on a cake, or Bacon Jell-O, and you will be drawn inexorably in. Inextricably. Your doubts and fears will fade as you play. You will find yourself grinning when your piece wobbles off its plate and you have to start over.

This stuff is magic. You have to step over the threshold though. We make it as easy as we can: just come to Maude Kerns on Saturday night at 5:00. Prepare to form some new synapses. 

And a disclaimer: You could be disappointed. Maybe this year there will be no interesting Jell-O sculptures, no new recipes on the Tacky Food Buffet, and all the singers (especially me) will be off-key, fumbly and annoying. The jokes won't be funny. It will be so crowded and you will be in the back and miss everything. We'll have a snowstorm and all the refrigerators will go on the fritz, and all the Jell-O will slide onto the floor, and my costume will rip and I'll fall off the stage and break my other foot.

You see how it can get. Please help. Think lovely thoughts, dream about the brilliant transparency of life and art, and LYFAO.

Repeatedly. See you at the Show!