Do you have a collectible Barbie® doll with “green ear”? Here’s how to remove most of it safely.
I haven’t found any product that removes ALL “green ear” and does it safely. Also, I wrote this article years ago, so there may be better products for this kind of project.
My Barbie / Green Ear Story
I have a great, vintage Barbie® doll in a red swimsuit and her original box, complete with stand.
However, that Barbie had green spots – stains in (not just on) the plastic -where her earrings used to be. It was a developing tragedy as the green spread a little more each year.
Then, I read that Extra Strength Clearasil will remove most of the green discoloration (but sometimes the skin dye, too) by leaching out the color. The active ingredient is Clearasil’s organic peroxide.
The cleaning process can be slow, taking up to a month, sometimes longer. Here’s what I did, and it might work for you.
Disclaimer: This information is provided as a guideline, not as specific advice for your dolls. The author assumes no responsibility for your repair & restoration efforts, and speaks only from personal experience, providing opinions about repairs.
If you have any questions, please consult a qualified doll hospital.
How to use Clearasil to reduce or remove Barbie “green ear”
Apply the Clearasil with a cotton-tipped swab. (Some choose to use the tip of a toothpick, for extra-precise application.)
Be sure to apply it to the stain. Avoid any painted areas, or “just fine” skin-colored areas.
Change the Clearasil every few hours, after each application has dried. (For me, the most dramatic reduction of green appeared after the first application, in about two hours.)
Keep in mind that the green may get worse before it gets better, as the green inside Barbie’s head is leached out, and becomes visible. (That didn’t happen with my doll.)
But remember, most doll restorers say that the green stains cannot be fully removed from most dolls.
Important: I accept no responsibility for results you may have, so please test the Clearasil on a not-important part of any stained doll (or other vinyl item) that you want to clean.
This cleaning tip is strictly for items where the staining is so severe, you have nothing to lose, and safer choices haven’t worked.
More info about vintage Barbie, Ken, Francie, and Skipper dolls
If you’d like to learn more about vintage Barbie dolls, this book (shown at right) might be exactly what you seek!
And a search tip…
Remember that the BarbieTM name has been trademarked and is very protected by the Mattel company. If you’re searching for more Barbie-related info, you may have better luck using the phrase “fashion doll.”
Important Legal Information
This website has no connection with the Mattel Corporation.
Advice about fashion dolls, including BarbieTM, is provided as personal opinion. When restoring valuable dolls, always consult a professional before attempting any repair.
The name “Barbie” is a registered trademark of the Mattel Corporation.
Let’s see… did I say enough about trademarks, Barbies and green ear to protect myself..? *LOL*
She’s not quite Toy Story, but she certainly is strange.
I started with a new Barbie doll, bought at a store, specifically for this art project.
First, I replaced her torso with a cloth body, and reinforced the (cloth) neck to hold her head up.
Her arms and legs are jointed, and attached at the hips and shoulders with antique buttons. Her knees are bendable, too.
The reinforcement in her neck makes it possible for you to angle her head how you’d like, as well.
Around her neck I’ve hung a “fetish”-type necklace that I made from glass and wooden beads, bits of fabric, and feathers.
I added a few (removable) “Voodoo” pins in place. The next owner could decide what to do about that.
(I mean no disrespect to those who practice Voodoo, Hoodoo, Vodun, or any related spirituality. She’s more closely related to the tourist-y “Voodoo” dolls sold in very commercial shops in New Orleans & Salem, MA.)
Mostly, Voodoo Barbie was made for every mom who’s spent two frustrating weeks visiting every toy store and website, looking for the exact Barbie doll a little girl asked for, for Christmas.
(Not that I ever did that, mind you. Ahem.)
Designing this doll, I chose to make Barbie’s cloth torso is a “normal” size and shape. In other words, the chick has hips.
It makes her look just a little off-balance and dangerous, and perhaps more normal... whatever that is.
She now lives in the home of a doll collector who appreciates this kind of art.
I have three more Barbies that I view with a slightly deranged look, on days when whimsy and mischief seem very tempting!
Altered dolls usually (but not always) start with ready-made, store-bought dolls. They may be modified or even deconstructed to make a different art doll or mixed-media figure.
These can include anything from themed, customized BarbieTM dolls, to Raggedy Ann gone wild, to McD’s doll toys that are made into jewelry or chess pieces.
However, that definition of altered dolls is the tip of the iceberg. For many doll artists, “altered dolls” mean anything that even vaguely resembles a doll. This takes altered dolls into paper arts, mixed media, and beyond.
My doll in the photo above is from around 2002 or so. She’s more an assemblage than an altered doll. My initial concept was to create a futuristic Kachina doll.
The face and feet were cast from existing dolls, using my mold process. The torso/body was a clear plastic cube filled with opalescent Easter grass. The arms were a single lucite rod, decorated with feathers.
(Thread didn’t attach the feathers as well as I’d hoped, so the thread was also glued in place.)
That doll was small enough to sit in my hand. (She was one of several I made at the time, and all dolls from that series are now in private collections.)
Here’s what’s important about altered dolls: There are no limits to what you can do!
December 2011 update
If you’re intrigued by altered dolls, here are some more recent altered art doll articles to inspire you. (If any of these links are broken when you visit, let me know in a comment. Thanks!)
Altered Doll Assemblages: Using Up Your Vintage Junk. Creating Dolls Out of Vintage Junk I would love to be able to try my hand at making Altered Doll Assemblages out of vintage odds and ends. Like many of you who are …
Dianne’s illustrations look similar to the altered dolls and assemblages we used to make when I taught at Artfest. They’re quirky and strange and generally wonderful!
For me, those represent some of the roots of assemblage and altered dolls, going back to the Dada movement and maybe earlier.
Next, scroll down this linked article to see a few interesting altered paper dolls. I think this concept could be taken in very wild directions.
4, 9am – 4pm. I had a fun discovery today -. several completed altered paper dolls! 2 of them are Halloween themed, but I’ll still put them out. Here are 3 that I have scanned. The others need to be resized, etc. and I will share! …
If you like those altered paper dolls, you may enjoy the next examples of altered paper dolls:
Jumbled Crafts: Altered Dolls at Craft Room (offline as of 2020)
jumbledcrafts.blogspot.com6/15/11
Well I have never done anything like this before but it was so much fun. I didn’t know where to start really but the ideas just kept coming as I went along. What a great idea it is to alter a paper doll and I am pleased …
suesartofcraft.blogspot.com
My First Altered Paper Doll – Love It! This month’s challenge at Craft Room is to make an Altered Paper Doll. Click the link in the sidebar for Craft Room Challenge to take part. I’ve never tried anything like this before and must …
Next, some art deco-style altered dolls at Etsy. What intrigues me is that the faces look like the ones I’ve made since 2002 (maybe earlier) using homemade molds. (The same kinds of molds I used for the futuristic kachina, above.)
I love seeing my ideas spread throughout the dollmaking community! (If you have other ways to use cast faces or other doll parts, please let me know. Leave a comment below.)
Create a garden that will delight children. Become sensitive to what delights children- smells, textures, tastes…Create a place for adventures! Friday, October 28, 2011. My Latest Altered Dolls on Etsy …
Now we shift to another extreme, a downright creepy altered doll. It’s one of Natasha Morgan’s stylish dolls, inspired by the DC Comic Book character, the two-faced Mr. Dent. (However, it’s not one of the creepiest dolls I found, when I was searching for altered dolls to share with you.)
Harvey – A Two Faced Altered Doll Portrait. Named by my Husband after the Two Faced vintage DC Comic Book character Mr Dent, I was inspired to make Harvey by a challenge I was asked to take part in on behalf of my …
If you liked that doll, be sure to see more at Zuzu’s Alter It Monthly.
And finally, returning to altered paper dolls and doll-related paper arts, here are some interesting and elaborate dolls & figures. (The website has music that starts playing on its own. If you’re at work, turn down your speakers.)
Hi Betty, I’m so excited about your Matchbox Dolls tutorial…thank you so much! 🙂 I just love them! …
I could have continued this list for pages & pages, but I think it’s enough of an overview to give you some inspiration and starting points.
The concept of “altered dolls” is huge. From altered children’s dolls (plastic, etc.) to altered paper dolls, to assemblages and found art, to cast elements and odd bits & pieces… there’s a lot to play with!
This is one of a series of pin dolls that I made by hand.
First, I create my doll collages digitally, using antique photos and illustrations.
When I’m pleased with the design and colors, I print each doll onto iron-on transfer paper.
Next, I apply each doll design to cotton, usually unbleached muslin, raw silk, or a light-colored cotton.
The edges of the fabric are treated with Fray-Chek, a product that prevents the edges from fraying. (You can find it in any fabric shop or sewing supply store.)
Then I sew, quilt, stuff, and bead the doll by hand.
(This is a very relaxing activity, and I often assemble my dolls when I’m traveling by airplane.)
Finally, I add the beaded antennae and a simple pinback, so you can wear the pindoll as jewelry, or attach her to a curtain.
Because these are sewn, quilted, and beaded by hand, not machine, each doll is slightly different, and one-of-a-kind.
These dolls are three inches tall without the antennae, and nearly four inches tall with them.
This design includes the face of my great-grandmother, Annie Maloney Morey. She was a wealthy young woman who eloped to America (from County Cork, Ireland) to marry her True Love, a dashing local lad with eyes the color of the Caribbean and the reputation of a rake.
They had six children and lived happily ever after.
(These “Annie Faeries” sold out within minutes at Artfest 2001.)
This is from my archives, when I sent “creative somethings” (including zines) to my subscribers.
Recently, I’ve been thinking of restarting this project, perhaps through Patreon. If that sounds interesting to you, let me know.
The zines are returning in 2010.
They’ll be in three versions:
1. Paper copies (“old school” b&w) for previous subscribers.
2. B&w digital copies – free or very inexpensive downloads
3. Digital copies in color – downloads available for a fee to cover bandwidth
The first/new issue
If you’d like to be included in the first zine — the theme is sketchcrawls, so anything related to that is fine — see that page for details.
This first issue will be 8.5″ x 11″ pages… letter size.
Stay tuned for news about the issues that will follow.
What’s ahead
In the future, I may be interested in half-sheet articles (8.5″ x 5.5″) with color illustrations that will also look okay in b&w. I need graphics at 150 dpi or better. (If you have no idea what that means, just send me a photo. Most digital cameras take pictures large enough to print well.)
For later issues, I’ll be especially interested in:
– Journal pages
– Gluebook pages
– Sketchcrawl examples
– Dolls/figures: cloth and assemblage
– Shrines & mini-shrines
– ATCs and ACEOs (artist’s trading cards – including art cards editions & originals)
– Fabric art (quilts, wearables, etc.)
I’m planning to focus on paper & fiber arts, and perhaps some fine art (watercolors & oil painting) and dimensional work… but mostly paper & fiber arts.
I’m interested in art-related topics, too, particularly about being organized as an artist.
In addition, since this is primarily intended as an “old school” style of zine, I’m interested in anything with a vintage or antique theme related to arts & crafts. Funky fun or serious re-enactors’ stuff… I’m very interested.
Keep it “office safe”
All art and text should be “office safe” (that is, if your boss catches you looking at the zine online, during a break, he/she won’t sputter and raise an eyebrow).
Avoid religious & political controversy, too. (Yes, I’m passionate about both, but I want this zine to encourage creativity, not turn people off because they shift into left-brain mode over some statement-as-art.)
Please don’t think your work “isn’t good enough.” Generally, I prefer art (visual, written, photos, music) that is raw and unpolished. When it gets too polished, it’s a yawn for me. So, send it anyway.
You’ll receive a free paper (b&w) copy of the zine with your work in it, and the digital downloads, free, as well.
Past subscribers
If you’re a past subscriber to my zines or “creative somethings”, please update your address at this form. [Link]
Important: That request is ONLY for people who were paid subscribers in the past. This is NOT a freebie.
In late February 2010, I’ll be sending out postcards to previous subscribers, to confirm your postal (snail mail) address.
I’ve been completely redesigning my office/studio this week.
The room is a normal bedroom size, about 12′ x 12′, and it serves two important purposes: I write in this room, and I create art here.
Writing
The writing requires lots & lots of reference books within easy reach. I write on a variety of topics — mostly related to art, travel, history and/or paranormal themes — and I’m well-known for my exhaustive research using obscure (but fascinating) references.
Writers need to promote themselves and their books. So, I have stacks of PR materials, including a dozen different styles of business cards, each tailored to a particular audience. I need to access them easily when I get a call from an event or a reporter.
Art
My art is all over the place, sometimes literally.
I paint with oils and acrylics. My canvases can be 36″ x 48″ or larger, and as tiny as 3″ x 3″. It’s easy to lose the little canvases and difficult to store the huge ones. They end up in boxes, behind doors, in closets, under beds, etc.
I also create fabric art, especially dolls and wearable art, plus quilts. My paper arts require considerable space, including my basic collage supplies (lots & lots of magazines) and embellishments.
Then there are the one-off assemblages that occur to me at odd moments, which — completed or in gestation — take up space.
Placing all of my writing supplies and all of my art supplies in the center of my studio floor… well, it’s been exhilarating and enlightening.
Magpie syndrome
I often think of myself as a magpie, in a way.
Sometimes, I see things that spark a project idea.
More often, that project idea is how I explain to myself why I need to own whatever-it-is. It’s how I justify the acquisition.
This is important: If I stay locked into that project idea and don’t explore other options, that collected object becomes clutter. Two years later, I have only the vaguest memory of the painting, collage, shrine or doll that I intended to make. The energy is lost, at least partly in regret.
Don’t let the guilt obliterate the energy of the object, or how it resonates — no matter how quietly — with your creative impulses.
That’s what I’m learning as I open boxes and rediscover half-finished projects and objects that never realized their greatness in completed art.
At least half a dozen paintings were in limbo, waiting for the technique I’m currently developing in my work. (The photo at right is an example. It’s barely started, but I love the glow of the houses facing the sunlight.)
Until I hauled those paintings out of the closet last night, I had no idea those paintings were such wonderful starts. With a fresh eye, I can see what works — and what doesn’t — and the energy is surging off the canvas as I admire it.
(I thought they were just bad paintings that I’d paint over, eventually. But, every time I looked at them, I wanted to cry because I could see the sparks of brilliance in them. I couldn’t bear to paint over them, and now I’m glad that I didn’t.)
Yarn intended as doll hair now sings to me as embellishment wall hanging.
Books that I purchased are falling open to illustrations and phrases that almost glow with inspiration.
This is a very cool experience.
Though I realize this can be an excuse to accumulate clutter, I think it’s vital to avoid the extremes of collecting or purging, compulsively.
I’m also mindful that — from a bigger perspective — if you’re supposed to create a particular work of art, the supplies will probably show up, almost on their own.
However, as I sit here surrounded by art supplies, books and projects, I’m astonished at how precisely my “magpie collection” is fitting into place. It’s as if I always knew that this day would happen.
It’s a concept worth considering.
My paintings: Three Trees (Bush Park, Houston, TX)
York Harbor View (York Harbor, ME) – in progress
Photo credit: Magpie – Juha Soininen, Finland
This morning, I read an interesting quote from David Brooks, “While our scholastic education is formal and supervised, our emotional education, the one we glean on our own from artists and musicians, is more important to our long-term happiness.”
I had never thought about art (and music, which I include in “the arts”) as emotional education. It’s an appropriate concept, and especially important and vital in an era when values are shifting away from merit-as-price-tag and status-based evaluation.
It’s also important as we consider even more budget cuts in our schools, and how we can resolve deficit-related issues that are (or will be) affecting our daily lives… such as what our children are taught in school.
Unless we ensure that art remains in people’s educations — particularly future generations’ — they may lose sight of the importance of the arts.
That’s already happened, and it’s one reason why so many artists struggle to survive as full-time artists.
We’ve fallen far from the time when influential families (such as the Medicis) made certain that their communities had access to the very best art possible.
Then again, a quick glance at the actual art incorporated in architecture confirms that this has been a growing issue for centuries. When we have to mandate 1% for art, and similar programs, and compare that with the amount of visible, permanent art in the buildings we revere from the past… well, the contrast is startling.
Whether we’re talking about the pyramids, cathedrals, or caves in France, the conversations almost always return to the art that’s part of them. In structures such as the pyramids and cathedrals, that art was permanent. It wasn’t entirely art — such as paintings and free-standing sculptures — displayed there, it was an integral part of the structure.
That’s an appropriate analogy for what’s happened to art in our society, and our values.
What will people spend money on, as an innate, knee-jerk reaction? A quick survey of the “impulse items” at the grocery store check-out line reveals what appeals to us as a society: Candy, and publications featuring unhappy gossip.
In most households, “original art” is grade-school work temporarily housed on the front of the refrigerator.
Commercial reproductions of art (paintings and photos) aren’t the same as original art, but they’re better than nothing.
I’m not sure what it will take to restore original art — in general — as a valuable part of our everyday lives.
Yes, one can argue that some art sells for astronomically high prices, particularly at auction. However, that art is generally purchased by people whose educations — at the finest schools money can buy — as well as their home environments, taught them the value of art.
In today’s economy, when we propose additional art education in our schools, the retort is, “Yes, but who’s going to pay for it?”
My flippant response might be: The arts need a bailout (or a resurgence) more than companies realizing the logical consequences of mismanagement.
In fact, we don’t just need a resurgence of the arts… they may be vital to our future survival.
When we look at world and local headlines, the emotional toll of violence is clear. The logical (and very emotional) response to violence is, “How could anyone do that…?”
Perhaps some of those acts of violence are committed as carelessly as some people — oblivious to the love and care of a gardener — trample plants and flowers to create a “shortcut” to where they’re going.
It gets back to education. It’s not just telling people that art is valuable, it’s showing them its emotional value. And, it goes beyond a one-hour-a-week class. This kind of appreciation for art must begin in the home.
However, I’m also mindful of what’s practical. This won’t be achieved overnight, and probably not in one generation.
We have to start somewhere.
In an economy defaulting to one-income households — which were the norm when I was growing up — perhaps we can take the time to volunteer as artists in the schools.
I’m aware that this sets a dangerous precedent, and school administrators may then expect art and art instruction to be provided, free of charge.
I’d counter that argument with the popularity of concerts. Because we are exposed to popular music daily on radio and TV — free of charge — people continue to place a high value on concerts.
My point is: To recover the perceived value of art, particularly the visual arts, we have to begin somewhere. We need to educate people — starting with children — about the importance of art, not just as art but as Brooks’ said, “emotional education.”
It may take a generation or two to even begin this project. However, it’s a vital project not just for artists but for our society.
You could volunteer at
a Scout troop,
a community center,
a daycare center,
a church, or
a school.
It could be a weekly or monthly commitment — for as long as you’re able to — or a one-time event.
Whether you teach others to create art or about the arts, or take a child (your own or neighbors’) to an art gallery or museum, or read a book about art with your book club or your family, start now.
It’s not just about art, it’s about emotional education.
“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” — Teddy Roosevelt.
Photo credits:
Vatican columns – Sorina Bindea, Romania
Petroglyphs in Venezuela – Franklin Carrera, Venezuela
Street artist – Valentina Jori, Italy
Newgrange carvings – Jon Sullivan, US (PDPhoto.org)
You can reprint this article (and its illustrations) on your own website if you like, as long as the article remains intact and has a link back to Aisling.net.
Breakthrough art – as a process – is sometimes defined as art that challenges the artist.
It’s when an artist takes their work in a dramatically different direction, just to see what happens.
Maybe they like it. Maybe they hate it.
Either way, they learn something about themselves, their art, and their unique creative process.
First, the history of one disastrous “Breakthrough Shrines” workshop.
(It’s okay to skip this backstory.)
When I taught Breakthrough Shrines at Artfest 2004, it was unexpectedly controversial.
The theme was “Art Shrines from Dark to Light.”
In that half-day workshop, students would start with dark (or dark-ish) rubbings on paper as a background.
Then, inside a shallow box, they’d build upon that background, adding two- and three-dimensional items. They could lean into dark themes or—as intended—use elements to segue into lighter subjects.
Either way, it was up to them, and the result might be a collage or an assemblage, depending on the items they added. (Or, it might be a half-finished work casting light on their own artistic processes.)
What emerged—literally and figuratively—could give them fresh insights into dimensional art and their own artistic process.
These workshops had been inspired by one of 2004’s most popular books and movies, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
Its ending had set the leading characters on a new path, albeit an uncertain one.
I wanted to emulate that, but in a workshop for artists eager to explore their creative boundaries… and push past them.
Leaning into that theme, I’d brought a wide range of materials for students to use. They included beach shells, coins, pressed pennies, vintage jewelry, handmade castings, and other textured items to use for rubbings.
I also encouraged them to take paper and charcoal or conte crayons, and go outside to make rubbings. (Artfest 2004 was held at Fort Worden Historical State Park. It offered an abundance of sites with surfaces and materials ideal for making rubbings.)
Also, for those who wanted to start with really “dark” themes, some of my castings were from 18th-century (and earlier) New England sites, including memorials.
Most of those castings featured angels and religious themes, but some were— admittedly — gothic. (Note: All were responsibly cast, legally, using techniques that risked no damage to the original art and carvings.)
Some of my Artfest students were delighted to have access to those casings; others were very creeped out by the 18th-century images. They complained loudly about my workshop.
By contrast, I taught this same workshop at other venues that year (and in 2005), with the same materials, and it was always well received.
Regardless, that was the last year I taught at Artfest.
(That was okay. For many years after that, I taught at other, larger events such as Dragon Con. Clearly, my workshop style was a better match for those audiences.)
And now, here’s what the workshop was actually like, at each venue where I conducted it…
The purpose of this workshop
This particular class was designed as a process-based experiment intended to push students toward artistic expression outside their comfort zones.
We weren’t trying to create art to impress friends, family, or even ourselves. It wasn’t a by-the-numbers class. The finished work (if it even was finished in the classroom) didn’t matter as much as understanding the art process, and how it helps us understand ourselves.
Some caught the spirit of the exercise and produced amazing work. Others used the workshop as an opportunity to test new materials and techniques, with no other goals in mind.
At its conclusion, most students left the workshop happy. A few practically had to be pried away from the desks, as they wanted more time to work with more experimental pieces.
The following notes summarize those workshops and the pre-class mini-class held the night before.
You can adapt this process to fit your goals, whether that’s pushing your creative boundaries or producing a fresh, fun art shrine that you’ll display with pride.
Step one: Prepared the shrine container
To get the most from this shrine-creation process, start with a medium-small box.
For my students’ use, I usually brought cigar boxes made from heavy cardboard with a paper surface. (You can buy them for less than $5 each at Amazon.com.)
Of course, you can use wooden cigar boxes, or almost any box.
However, the surface should be something that plaster and gauze will stick to. (If the container is slick, painted, or metal, you may need to sand it and/or coat it with gesso.)
After waiting for the shrine’s exterior to dry—usually overnight—it’s time to create the interior.
I recommend using rubbings for your backgrounds. They’re a fast way to cover a lot of the surface, uniquely.
In addition, rubbings can reveal some interesting images you hadn’t expected.
You’ll create the rubbings using any kind of paper, from printer paper to tracing paper to… well, whatever comes to mind and is thin enough to pick up details on whatever’s below it.
The paper should be flexible but not too flexible. You’ll want to capture the textures beneath the paper, without tearing it.
In most cases, it’s smart to secure the paper with adhesive tape; I use blue “painter’s tape.” It’s unlikely to leave any marks or residue on the support surface.
To make the marks, rub a soft marker (but not a magic marker or felt writer) over the paper, picking up details from the support surface. Conte crayons, soft pencils, or even children’s everyday crayons can work well.
In real life, any kind or quality of rubbing will work. The rubbing can be flawed, missing areas, or even ugly. That’s okay! The point is to look at surfaces in a new way and then integrate the results into your finished shrine.
Try rubbings from:
a screen door
the sidewalk outside your home
metal plates and markers at historical locations*
the numbers from your front door
objects in your jewelry case or from your kitchen tools
keys and coins in your wallet, or
textured items like rubber stamps.
*Note: Check with authorities before making any rubbings at historical sites, monuments, churchyards, cemeteries, etc. In some communities, the art on stone – and some metal – surfaces can be fragile, and easily worn down if used for rubbings. (In some communities, it can be illegal to create rubbings at some locations.)
These rubbings are primarily backgrounds for mixed-media embellishments. You can use just one large rubbing, or piece several together, side-by-side or layered as a collage.
Once you have a background you like, start adding items – created, purchased, or found – in layers. I encourage students not to think about this too much, but instead add items and embellishments on impulse.
Those items can be anything from coins to buttons to snippets of fabric, or small toys, playing cards, junk jewelry, or… well, absolutely anything. The idea is to make this a three-dimensional piece, preferably with quirky bits placed impulsively.
You can glue or tape them in place as you work, or arrange the pieces as you think you’d like them, and then go back and use glue, etc. (I encourage you to glue or tape as you go along. Don’t get too finicky about this.)
Then pause. See what the shrine is telling you, either a story or something about where your art is going… or both. Or maybe neither!
Step Four: Stop when it feels right to stop.
Whether you’ve added one more element or 20 of them, pay close attention to your intuition. Stop when it feels right to stop. Or when you can’t seem to decide what to add (or remove) next.
Definitely stop if you feel bored, tired, angry, or even sad about the shrine.
It’s better to stop too soon than to continue and risk that more elements might conceal the essence of the finished piece.
Step Five: Revisit the shrine days (or even weeks) later
Put the shrine aside for at least a few days. When you revisit it, you should be ready to look at it as if someone else had made it.
See what catches your attention. Consider what the shrine might be telling you about yourself, and directions you may want to explore with your art.
If you don’t like the shrine, you can take it apart to use pieces in another project or even throw it out.
However, even if you truly hate it – and this sounds preposterously woo-woo – I still recommend putting it aside for a few months, or even a year.
Then, take a fresh look. See if you feel differently about it, and if it speaks to you about your past, your art, or… well, something else.
After completing the inside of the shrine, finish the outside by layering paint and polyurethane to add color and depth to the gauze. (Or, if you were aiming for a “mummy” effect, perhaps tea stain it?)
Optional extras: Easy antiquities and other finishing techniques
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The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
Marketing
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.