“In-speee-raaa-shon” or “If you can’t beat ’em with a wooden spoon, join ’em”

Clearly my threats of censure have been mocked. Publicly. On my own blog. Basically this means I am turning into my mother and Ollie has reverted to become my rebellious teenage daughter. Want to kill her with my own hands, but then once she’s gone, lose my cover to watch Gossip Girl.

I see no point in alienating our discriminating viewership with tacky paintings of imaginary mammals. But since she mocks me from about 10,000 arms-lengths away, I will have to put down my flailing wooden spoon and just learn to live with her bursts of rebellion.

Feel the glaring Jewish mother’s eye, Ollie.  It’s pointed straight at you. You knows that it knows that I knows.  

Don’t tell Ollie but the Unicorn painting she grafitti’ed our beloved Creme with last Friday, in all of it’s Bob Ross scenic splendor, hit a creative nerve that I’ve been trying to subdue.  It’s hard for me to admit but I find myself drawn to color, big color, cheap color, bold color. It’s becoming apparent in my designs for next season’s jewelry lines. I have fallen off the technicolor deep end. 

Perhaps it’s my close proximity to the birthplace of Murakami.  

Or Gwen Stefani’s new Harajuku fragrance that looks vaguely similar to the tarty teenagers in my neighborhood.

I’m drifting scarily distant from what I know sells.  What I’ve done.  What’s been done.  The joy of it is thrilling.  A gamble.  I’m betting the farm.  I can’t wait to show you all.

Without joy in my work, I might as well pack it up and go to law school. 

I will try my best to stop before I get to this.

While perusing Style.com, I stumbled upon this video of Dior’s jewelry designer, Victoire de Castellane, and she confirmed my decision to put the “fun” front and center in my designs.  Previews to follow in coming weeks.  

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