Gala Edition Cameras – beaded wonders of the world

I have this weird thing I do sometimes [a lot of the time]. I bead cameras. I call them my “Gala Edition” cameras. I take glass beads, rhinestones and other questionably precious pieces and attach them to cameras. I’ve been doing this for a while. Most of my friends don’t even know that I do it. It’s kind of embarrassing. When people find out, they’re, like, “You have too much time on your hands.” (Which, by the way, isn’t necessarily true.) Ok…. side note: people say this a lot about my art. I might be exhibiting next to other artists who get comments like, “Wow! This is SO inspiring and original!” Me? Folks see art I’ve created – hand tinted portraits, pinhole photos, pinhole cameras, Gala Edition cameras – and they lean toward me, smiling … nodding, and inevitably say, “SOMEONE has too much time on her hands.” This beading thing is not an addiction – though I haven’t beaded a camera in seven days, sixteen hours, fourteen minutes and seventeen seconds.  I don’t do this for attention or the approval of others because, if that were the case, I’d do something else for sure. Anyway, here are some photos of a few of the cameras I’ve embellished:

I’m working on a bike right now. All beaded and embellished with rhinestones and glass beads. It’ll be replete with working cameras – pinhole and otherwise. But the bike (which I’m referring to as “CyClick”) is fodder for a future blog post.

Back to Cameras!

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Back to Cameras!

As I toil toward that torchlight at the end of the tunnel, endlessly tapping fingertips to the keyboard, I become aware – this story will

Read More »

Herland Forest

Death is a common ground where we’re all headed. I’m going to die, feed a tree and save a forest. I’m all set.   It

Read More »

Reluctantly crouched

Shortly before our summertime trip to Iceland a while back, I saw a note about a “Runners’ Festival” in the Westfjords. Whadya know? It was

Read More »

My mom.

      She was born Sue Ellen Scales in the farmlands of Ohio on January 12th, 1931 to Helen (Armstrong) and Rufus Scales. The

Read More »

Back to Cameras!

As I toil toward that torchlight at the end of the tunnel, endlessly tapping fingertips to the keyboard, I become aware – this story will

Read More »

Herland Forest

Death is a common ground where we’re all headed. I’m going to die, feed a tree and save a forest. I’m all set.   It

Read More »

Reluctantly crouched

Shortly before our summertime trip to Iceland a while back, I saw a note about a “Runners’ Festival” in the Westfjords. Whadya know? It was

Read More »

My mom.

      She was born Sue Ellen Scales in the farmlands of Ohio on January 12th, 1931 to Helen (Armstrong) and Rufus Scales. The

Read More »
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