Bad Clowns

My creative projects seem to be managing far better than I am at the present.   While I continue to slug it out with all the usual bipolar symptoms and pitfalls, my novel, Callinda, keeps writing itself; new greeting cards appear on my worktable; and a collage I’ve wanted to do for years hangs on my wall.

To the Muse in my ear who refuses to shut up, to the hands that paint and snip with a mind of their own, to the part of me who plugged into the Cosmic Creative Source the day I was born and never looked back, I say thank you.

And now, for your creepification, my new collage, Bad Clowns.

The fear of clowns, or coulrophobia, is the number 3 phobia in the United States.  Only the fear of needles and spiders beats it.  Think about it.  A grown man in disguise around little kids.  Eew.  Remember John Wayne Gacy?  Remember Heath Ledger’s Oscar-winning performance as The Joker?  My man, Stephen King, knew exactly what he was doing when he made his monster in “IT” a clown.  No one understands what scares us like Stevie, and his icy little fingers are ruthless.

For me, Santa Claus (at least the department store kind) is just another clown.  My three-year-old self knew instinctively to stay away from that lap.  So, if you ever take your kids, nieces, nephews, grandkids, or friends’ kids to the circus or want a picture of them with Santa, and they start whining and digging in their heels, do me a favor.  Don’t tell them they’re being silly.  Don’t scold them and force them to make nice to the funny man.  Just hold their hand and slowly, carefully, back away.

I got this icky rubber stamp clown from my favorite vendor, Teesha Moore.  I knew someday, he’d be central to my Bad Clown collage, and here he is.  I also cackled non-stop while “editing” these Pictionary cards.

I thought busted and bloody-looking balloons would help create the atmosphere of evil and danger.  What do you think?

The central clown figure started out as a teeny, tiny photo of a circus troupe from the 1920’s comprised of midgets and dwarves.  I took the face of one of the clowns and had my print shop blow it up 1000 %.  I transferred that vague image to the canvas, then used paint, chalks, ink and markers to make him my own.  I like that he doesn’t scream “EVIL” but that you know there’s something definitely wrong about him.

I found the plastic clown cake decorations at an antique store a year or so ago, and I knew immediately they’d end up with nails through their heads.  Yeah, that’s the way I roll.  I’ve been saving scrap of circus advertising and early images of clowns for years.  It was a wonderful feeling to put them all together in one disturbing place.

Ahh, how’s that cotton candy tasting?