New Goodies

Here are a couple of new models I've been working on. I was unsure of the Fish ring... fearing it might turn out too dorky. I don't think it ranks obnoxiously high on the dork-o-meter though. I made it for pennies fished out of a fountain. Right now the bezel (where you put the stone) got crunched down a bit in casting. (Insert favorite gosh darn it phrase here.) So I can't fit any penny in. I can fix it. It just was taking a bit too much time and patience so I decided to go ahead and take some pictures with a dime.


**One of my problems with the fishy ring is... I kinda have a dork asthetic. Obviously. But when I tried to stylize the fish at all... I was messing with symbols, it seemed to me. And since I'm not religious, I don't like to utilize such symbols in my work unless its for a particular purpose. A fish symbol with the casual inference of religion didn't feel right. If I could stylize the fish successfully, to where I didn't see such casual inference, that would be best. I didn't make it in this round. I was left with dorkiness.

**This may seem like over thinking. (lol.) But this is one step where things succeed or not. It is not just that a design is pleasing, but whether there is a sense of coherent thought or intention behind the work. Which, in all honesty, may be one reason why my successes are dwarfed by my failures. I do not excel in coherence. In fact, I think dorkiness is okay, the way pizza and beer and football can satisfy if a few brain cells and a certain portion of the psych is left, fumbling for the ideal.
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This is the flower POWER ring. Both of these models need to get cleaned up, then molded and recast for the finish piece. (They are carved out of wax then cast into the silver shown here.) I made the flower ring so that I can use nickels too. Or dimes.

The Lucky Penny Ring

I pick up change I see when I'm out, walking about. I call it "change road rescue." And this might seem, well, eccentric, um, to be kind. But I started doing it because my standard response when anyone asked about health insurance or my lack thereof, I'd say, "when I win the lottery.... " Or if asked about my retirement plans I'd say, " when I win the lottery." The trouble is, I don't believe in the lottery (as I have explained before, here, and here.) *Its a poor tax, not a stupid tax.... though the poor may be desperate enough to act stupid. Essentially, its a tax on dreams.*

So. To get around my reluctance to support a poor tax, I decided to pool the change I find while walking. Every 2-3 weeks, I accumulate enough for a powerball ticket. Two of my best finds are a 1896 penny (worth one dollar), and a 1918 dime (worth 5 bucks. Though it is a bit nicked. I found it in the street.)



Not all of the change I find is recyclable. Some of the pennies are torn apart, and some are just pulverized a bit too much. I keep these pennies, and have ended up with a rather gnarly stash of orphan pennies. Hence, the Lucky Penny Ring. Here is one design of the Lucky Penny Ring, and tomorrow I'm going to start working on another design. It is carved out of green wax and will be cast into silver. In one picture I have a diamond I dropped in just for fun. I will be setting a 5 mm stone there, but not a diamond! All pennies will be seeking their new life, with luck.

Change Potential

Here's my latest scoop off the streets of Providence, Rhode Island. I've babbled on in this blog before on the lottery and how I feel about the way our government, "we," choose to raise money... How I feel its an underhanded tax on dreams and desire for a better life... How I feel it feeds off those most in need of such fantasy, the poor... But I also have to admit this is fun. The money I scoop off the streets wouldn't pay a bill. It would buy bubble gum, but I'm not into bubble gum. It wouldn't even run a load of wash in the local laundry mat. But one thing it does is make walking down the street a bit entertaining and subversive. It can buy a lottery ticket.

Oh. I didn't win. NPR, you have to keep waiting for my donation, sorry.

Mystery Musings and Brandy Bombast

Okay. I must take a moment to discuss psychology, a discilpline I am profoundly unqualified to discuss. Which brings up another point. The specialization in a culture that exposes so many ineptitudes. Like. Before Psychology became a discipline it was a late night tilt of a wine bottle filling a glass while the question "what the hell was she thinking" was asked. Or was it brandy. I forget. (You know, those scenes of Charles Dickens are so wonderfully flexible. Read Tale of Two Cities, listen to a couple of BBC newscasts, and your life will never be unscripted.)

Back to Psychology. A funny thing happened on the way to a lottery ticket. Today I scooped 51 cents off the streets, which gave me a buck to buy a powerball ticket. Immediately I felt accomplished. Well, I do have a crow's eye. But. Intellectually I am totally aware that the vast overwhelming likelyhood that I'd win is less than zilch. One in a million ten billion whatever. The idea of paying off debts, going to the dentist, and buying fine wine is a fantasy. I know that. I know also that the whole reason the lottery exists is Americans do not want to pay taxes. They do not want to pay for roads or schools, and definitely not healthcare. So they call the lottery a "stupid tax." I've heard that so many times and it really is not cute. The lottery is a tax on the poor. Pure and simple. It is a regressive tax. A tax on those that think a one in a million ten billion chance is better than none. It is an easy tax to levy. A tax on dreams.

The reason I buy lottery tickets with the change I find on the streets is in part protest. (see the 22 cent entry.) And in part.... what the hey. I find the money anyway. I could never countenance paying for a lottery ticket from earned money. If it were within my power, I would organize a nationwide boycott of all lottery sales. The politicians would then have to find a way to raise the money elsewhere in a more equitable manner. They would have to stop grubbing THE MONEY OFF THE STREETS. I am litterally doing what the politicians are doing and what americans are doing.

I think what bugs me most is calling a dream or a fantasy stupid. (Which, you know, like, well, where's that leave me?) And what interests me is how I so oddly and knowingly buy into the hope. Eh, think I need to read a Tale of Two Americas.... er... Cities... again.

Small Change

I thought I'd take pictures of my small street change collections... Occassionally, at least. This is for the lottery ticket I bought yesterday. There are certain areas change appears, around the gas station, cars, and the mall. I like the texture of change that has hit the streets... You can see the penny that is hardly recognizable as a penny. At first when I picked it up, out of the middle of the street, I was a bit disappointed 'cause I thought it a dime. Instead, its a hard worn penny.

This is in reference to my 7/18/07 Twenty-Two Cents entry. Though I must admit, I forget to check if I've won or not.

**The fellow where I buy the lottery tickets doesn't seem to know what to make of me and my highly textured change. I'm not sure I could explain... Hope he doesn't loose patience with me!

Twenty-two Cents

That's where I'm at. 22 cents. Under the new rules.

I do not like or believe in the lottery. It is an opiate for the masses. And I feel, with the ever widening gap between the rich and the poor, it is almost immoral. But, perhaps, understandable. For the period of time between purchasing the ticket and loosing, someone who could not afford a vacation can fantasize about owning a beach house in Tahiti. A car can be paid for and a dentist visit made. Which is why the lottery is a drug. Instead of protesting wages, work conditions, lack of job secuity, or lack of health care benifits, anger is effectively disapated by a flimsy slip of paper. Better luck next time.
Proponents of the lottery look at what the proceeds pay for. But its a regressive tax, folks. Who buys those tickets to dream? Predominatelly the underfunded.

But. One must do something, mustn't one? To be a responsible member of this society, one should do retirement planning and... (well, health care insurance is practically a nonsequitor). Hence the 22 cents. Given my attitude towards the lottery I shouldn't, in old-fashioned face-the-myself mirror mode, buy a lottery ticket. However, in a politician-like finesse, there is always the change on the street.