For me, “The Writer” is a simple case of transference: I can see myself in that chicken. There I am, at the writer’s desk, poised at the typewriter, surrounded by a wallpaper of swirling words. “Cluck-cluck!” I hear myself say, “I am that chicken.” And so dear reader, despite the proverbial “chicken” that I am to share my musings, I continue to peck away. (Small box: Once Upon A Storytime).

I am besotted by a chicken.  Not a tasty Tajine, nor a crispy splayed Spatchcock, as food is what usually captures my attention. In this iteration I am enchanted by “The Writer”, a “Once Upon A Storybox” tableau originally created by my forever bestie, Carey. 

Charming and unique this particular 5”x 4”x 2” Bienventura Semilla Cubana cigar box redux is cobbled together by cardboard, tape, nails, and sealing wax. Revealed through a sheet of plexiglass is the prize within a small plasticky chicken sitting atop a mini- typewriter which sits alongside a lamp, and a pencil with an eraser, (rewrite, rewrite). All of which rest upon a mini popsicle stick table.

Not all “Once Upon A Storybox” tableaux feature miniatures; regulars are sized at 7”x 9”. But the principals are usually the same: fowl– posed to pick oranges in the orange Ojai sun; astride ironing boards contemplating a basket of laundry; hovering over a kitchen stove.  Carey has been known to plant a sheep, lamb, or bovine in her scenarios. N’er a mare nor a stallion. Now and then a pug and a pussy. As a wee lass Carey played for hours with dollhouses, inventing and reinventing real rooms. For her, creating story boxes is a new riff on the same theme. And still small.

How clever is my friend! How clever is her process! First, she selects a scene like a vineyard or French flower shop. Often times she will use images from her husband’s photography archive which she then miniaturizes in Photoshop. Then she glues that background onto cardboard or thin wood. Carey can wire a lamp electrically or with a battery. With a little spit ‘n glue the props get in place and the box comes to life.

Through “The Writer” plexiglass window Remington and Burrough’s typewriters float upon miniature wallpaper.  I am reminded of the newsrooms of yore where you might find any ol’ bird with a story to tell.

I check out the chicken who stares back at me as if to say: “What do you think I’m doing? I am writing!” 

“Cluck,” I say, “and so am I.”

Exciting News: While “pecking” away–  I have been, on my recently published  “I’ve Been Thinking.” Stay tuned….