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I make a lot of stuff.

It all belongs in the medium place. 

Ever since I was a kid, I've loved creating things. Somewhere in the archives are pictures of my various and sundry crafts and attempts at the finer arts.

There are truly indiscernible paintings, and pages with just a fuckton of glitter glued on randomly. There are caterpillars constructed out of clothes pins with a magnet, mini pompoms, pipe cleaners, and googly-eyes (obv) -- those were also my first entrepreneurial endeavor as several of my father's coworkers bought them to clip paper work to the side of a filing cabinet. I think they were a quarter. I didn't retire on that gig. 


There are photos of me as various characters constructed mostly from cardboard boxes and there are remnants in a giant bin of the poems, songs, greeting cards, crossword puzzles, and one overly complicated pinball  "machine" (also, cardboard. This was pre-Amazon, I have no idea where all this cardboard was coming from) that I made while whiling away my hours as an only child, hoping one day Santa would bring me a sibling. Santa is smarter than me. 

So I was mostly left to my own devices and man, did that ever happen! 

Now I'm slowly losing my mind, my patience, and my ability to leave the house with fewer than 3 pairs of glasses for *just in case*, but my desire to make very mediocre things has never waned. 

I'm a tried and true hobbyist and I make Hobbyist Trash. Thanks for visiting.  

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