The Child Empress of Mars

by C. Jane Washburn, based on The Child Empress of Mars by Theodora Goss in Interfictions 2

15" tall x 12" long Art Doll – Mixed Media: wire, tape, polyclay, semi-precious stones, found objects, fur scraps, silk, acrylics.

This piece will be auctioned off to benefit the Interstitial Arts Foundation at iafauctions.com

Tags: interfictions2auction, interfictions2, interstitialartsfoundation, interstitial, doll, dollcraft, theodoragoss, thechildempressofmars
Uploaded: November 4, 2009
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    IAFAuctions.com is part of the fundraising arm of the Interstitial Arts Foundation, a not–for–profit organization dedicated to the study, support, and promotion of interstitial art.

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    A Taste of Interfictions 2
    • “My Obstetrician has four heads.
      She stands in front of me, arms crossed, tapping one foot.
      She only has the two feet.
      We are in Evanston, a socially-politically-ecologically aware suburb of Chicago, and she wears sensible shoes, expensive clogs and natural fibers to draw the eye away from the four heads.”
      From: Afterbirth by Stephanie Shaw
    • “Work dried up after the crash. My magazine folded, and the creditors came around demanding the office furniture and telephone and rent. They got one chair, a cancelled stamp, and a hundred and twelve copies of the second edition of Honeypot which didn't sell as well as the first. "And why should it?" Betsy asked. "Nobody's into poetry. Especially in the language of bees. They could be saying anything."”
      From: For the Love of Carrots by Kelly J. Cogswell
    • “There's a red, ripe moon, like a berry, in the sky. Blood moon they call it, berry moon, I say. Juicy and full, that fat piece of fruit, makes me want to swallow it whole. A pearl of heaven's own blood in my mouth, and then... The sky surrounding my glossy morsel is brimming with purple champagne, foaming with stars. I wait for them to fall down and cover me in shimmering dust. Will it crackle and hiss when it touches my skin? Will it burn? Taste perhaps like ice and water, vanilla and nuts, when I lick it off my hands? It is my duty, you know, to eat it all up. "Greedy", you may say, but then, you still love me...”
      From: Berry Moon by Camilla Bruce
    • “My father's oldest brother was at the age when little boys fall in love with war. In the family's rush to get downstairs, no one noticed that he had brought his favorite hat into the basement, the one that superficially resembled the square czapka with the scarlet band of the Zandarmeria, the Polish Military Police. When the gun shots, the screams, and the smoke had cleared, the Germans discovered that their fugitive Polish soldier was just a ten year old boy.”
      From: Count Poniatowski and the Beautiful Chicken by Elizabeth Ziemska

    Click here for another excerpt

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