By Veteran/Actor Russell Hodgkinson
Last year, while attending a horror convention in Boise, Idaho, I met an incredibly interesting couple who sold scary, handcrafted, weird art and taxidermy. They met as circus performers in the 90s and now travel the country attending these type conventions. I was there as a guest artist, signing photos and selling Z Nation memorabilia. We bonded over the 3 day event, at which point, they invited me to join them at the upcoming Oddities and Curiosities Expo in Portland and Seattle. I was hesitant since I had nothing particularly odd or curious to sell, but they encouraged me to get creative and come up with something.
When I told my wife about it, she offered me her Barbie collection. She’d been scouring thrift stores for years, snatching up every $2 dollar Barbie she could find, with the intention of creating some kind of, I don’t know, art installation in the backyard. She did made a pretty cool Barbie rain chain one year, with plans for a Barbie chandelier to hang over the picnic table. Thankfully, she never got around to it. Anyway, it was on this ‘bright day’ that I was inspired to zombify her dolls to sell at the upcoming event.
I started with a group of ten, hanging by their hair on the clothesline. After spraying them gray, I used a green paint marker for some careful veining. I then cut off their pretty little smiles, leaving their gapping mouths to be painted with drippy blood. I transformed their welcoming eyes into wide hungry stares. As a former ships barber in the Coast Guard, I used my skills to give them all new wild hairdo’s. I also carefully selected each outfit from a mountain of Barbie clothes and accessories, which I proceeded to distressed by various means. This is when things took an interesting turn. The girls were becoming surprisingly diverse with distinct personalities and back stories. I now felt compelled to name them.
Sharkbite Sheila, wore Barbie swimwear, complete with mask and googles. Her leg, savagely bitten off below the knee, revealed a bloody stump. Anita Brainerd, Harvard educated, wearing a tattered fitted suit was missing part of her skull, exposing bloody brains made of twisted rubber bands. Lakota Slingblade was a menacing Native American rodeo queen with long black hair and a cowboy hat. Kim Saki from Japan wore a black and white mini skirt with matching blazer. I cut her hair into a pixy bob with ultra short bangs. No amount of blood and guts could disguise her impeccable style. I really should have kept her. Then there was poor Hamburger Mary, a complete mess, with bloody entrails spilling out of her stomach. I had so much fun creating each character, the thought of having to part with any one of them was becoming kind of painful.
After making over 50 of them. I decided they needed to be properly displayed, so I made clear cylindrical cases out of a leftover roll of acrylic I’d used to cover my drafty windows. Using mason jar lids, packing tape and a hot glue gun I assembled them. I signed and numbered each one and hand painted the Z Nation logo on the lids. The finishing touch came in the form of an undisclosed fortune cookie style message, which I surreptitiously taped under each lid that read; “The Universe is in a Conspiracy for your Benefit”. Just a little positivity to neutralize the gore factor.
I have always been an artist, but never got attached to my work in quite the same way. It was troubling. Obviously I knew I couldn’t keep them, so I wanted to at least make sure they went to good homes. That’s when I created the adoption certificates. I know right? Kind of like Build-a-Bear. I wanted to make sure my girls were going to good homes, so I began grilling potential buyers with pointed questions. These are not toys for children right? Do you have pets? Will you have a safe place for her to be displayed? I know right. It was ridiculous, but people seemed to enjoy the process. I mean come on, I couldn’t just hand them over to anyone with a fist full of cash. The girls had became these wonderful little pieces of original art. I sold all 58, keeping only one for my wife, inspired by her spectacular mermaid costume in 1990.
People ask me why I don’t keep making them, “You could sell them on eBay”. Right? I would definitely have a backlog that’s for sure. People were crazy about them. I don’t know, it just felt like it was a moment in time. I also don’t have a proper workshop, My home and backyard had become a wreck, a real apocalyptic, Zombie making Barbie war zone.
This was simply a blissful moment of inspiration of creativity that I was grateful to experience.
