My trip to Helsinki was in March, 2017 but I’ve never gotten around to writing about it until now. Blogging has been something I haven’t had much time for anymore. My priorities have changed as well as my readership’s, but I keep this blog as an archive so it is important to me to get this written down. Better late than never, right?

Blackheart Bettie– Bettie came to Paris to perform in a burlesque festival in February 2016. She contacted me because she wanted to collaborate on a tattoo project. She sent me many reference images, and a clear description of what she wanted, plus the freedom to interpret her idea as I saw best. Just how I like to work!

Here’s what I did on her.

We share many of the same passions and are attracted to similar imagery; costumes of the Follies Bergère, boudoir imagery, lithography of the 19th century. During the tattoo process, curious to go deeper, I tried to learn more about her, seeing as how we had similar tastes. I learned that she was a painter too! I asked her to show me her work, I loved it and was also delighted to find out that she is appreciated by the contemporary art world in Finland. She has shown in museums. Her artist name is Petra Innanen.

Later she contacted me and said she wanted me to somehow participate in the, Helsinki Burlesque Festival, that she organizes with her husband Frank. It would be the 10 years anniversary, also the last year. Bettie feels that Burlesque has changed and has lost some of the magic that made her love it in the first place. Bettie explained to me that she and her husband had fell head over heals in love with New Burlesque during a trip to California where they saw The Velvet Hammer. Maybe were present together at the same show? Funny how small the world is.

Backstage- hanging out backstage in theaters is magic; time stands still, the energy is high and you get caught up in the vortex. It’s a world not many outsiders get to see. I was very lucky to be invited backstage as I wasn’t performing. I asked to take photos and it was a good way to start a conversation with some of the artists.

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Santa Barbara

While exploring Santa Barbara, I stumbled upon my ideal art studio. So European but of course with a California/Spanish influence. Look at this beautiful window! And the patina on that wall! I wonder who’s art studio it was? Maybe a couple of artists, an art colony? Sadly it seems to be offices today, probably lawyers.

We found this record shop by chance. It has a very good selection with beautiful handcrafted record bins. The guy working there was really nice too. I found a Slim Whitman record.

Across the street there is a museum, I didn’t catch the name of the said museum, but the show up at the moment was about the Spanish culture in Santa Barbara and the festival “Old Spanish Days”.

Oh California! If anyone wonders why my art is so influences by Mexican and Chinese imagery, now you know. It’s my growing up in California.

We had lunch next to this beautiful cinema and found a great antique shop nearby. The store had all California/Spanish antiques and jewelery. A real treasure, very expensive, but like a museum in the quality of what was in the store. I was very impressed by this collection of portraits. Anders Aldrin.

Santa Cruz

I grew up near Santa Cruz, I spent many summer days at the Boardwalk. I don’t remember what was in this warehouse before, when I was a kid, but the museum there shows that it used to be a swimming pool in the 20’s – 40’s. Now it’s miniature golf with a pirate theme, with animatronics! And a super cool lighthouse!

The caveman and cavewoman are still on the aerial tramway. And it still gives me vertigo!

This is the third post about the Brussels Toy Museum check out the others here and here.

I love these pink kitchen sets. Clearly an example of stereotyping in toys made for girls, the forming of sexual identity and the roles cut out for them by society!

I love these over sized dominoes left out on a table in one of the rooms. I makes me chuckle to think of adults using them with nostalgia; that they seemed so much bigger in small hands.

Jeu de Bagatelle the ancestor of the pinball machine. Placed propped up at an angle on a table and played with standard size glass marbles. Score keeping I imagine was written on paper.

Little sewing machine.

In this case you’ll see a crazy vinyl toy with a caterpillar and his three passengers: a monkey a bear and a clown. Below the sketch I did. Also, I love that (Bakelite?) merry go round and would love to see it in action!

Me with the director!

I decided to write a

Poem about the museum

On the side of the kiosk
Headlines call out “A Toy Museum in Belgium
Found to be a Secret Portal to a Forgotten Corner of Reality”
With a byline: Local Children Have Been the Guardians of this Hidden Gem for Several Generations.
It was my first possession this small object; a miniature version of a future imagined, Plaything of my dream
When I was green…
Well loved, with nicks, dents, or rust, worn out paint on corners, crooked or, broken and                                                                                                                                                                  Then repaired, missing one eye, cracks; but absolutely sublime in the imperfections…
I read recently that “reality is imaginary”                                                                                                                                                          Let’s break away from conformity and choose our own reality
To imagine the world in small scale,
Child size,
Doll measurements, is to understand what it is to have more space:
Discover a cure for claustrophobia.
Switch proportions,
Shrinking, projecting oneself down to a pocketable proportion
A desire a want to disappear,
To escape into a fantasy of my own creation
Agrandir just the good stuff.
Avoid the responsibilty of greatness,
The gift of vulnerability
Shirk challenge, reject reality, internalize.
My body is a toy museum.
I must shrink down to explore the inner room.
I see a shape, a murky form, it opens a door to an idea or a memory.
Discover the unknown, understand, find hidden forgotten items.
An interior voyage to deep healing,
Deep discovery.
The required action in exchange for a ticket to the next horizon.
A tickling sensation, something gently flutters inside,
Exciting such juvenile delight.
Flying by like screeching monkeys
A group of knee high individuals soar up the stairs,
Circle around a table, stop, look at that! No! Let’s go here
Down, through and back again.
Bubbling over with joy, exploding with the pleasure of celebrating this day, this place this dream.
What shall we play at now? I know: Let’s make a tea party- invisible liquids, pretend goodies, hosting for imagined guests.
Teddy bear in a tiny wicker chair, a birthday cake, a special occassion, such a lovely image, so mouth watering, some sugar, more presents…
Remembering rainy day indoor games, finding contentment in being trapped in a meloncoly grey room.
Retell all the details, hours passed by one game morphing into another until the floor was covered with the entire treasure chest.
When we were lowercase playtime was capital.