#apoxy

I didn’t get as much done today as I wanted, but I got a good amount done. The other leg is now curing and getting ready to be sanded and I have started on an eye piece that will attach magnetically to Vaklav’s head!

I didn’t work fast enough so I had a blob of apoxy leftover that was too cured to use on the doll, so I made it into a little rat body to give my Smart Doll a pet rat.

I took off down to the end of Louisiana - Plaquemines Parish, the bird’s foot, where skin is flaking off and tendons are frayed. Places that once were are no more - 31 place names out of action and consigned to the vaults since 2011. Gaze off into the water and there lies the mirage of fields full of watermelon, mustard greens, orange groves and cattle. Endless, mainly men, come down to work the land, hunt from it, shore it up. Fishermen, dredgers, trawlers, duck hunters, land folk. Sometimes for months on end. At the Lighthouse Inn men attempt to wash their catches in the tub until management puts a stop to it. The duck hunters who travel from Gonzalez grill their birds with bacon, jalapeños and cream cheese - only lightly or they get tough - from the back of their trucks. Mallards, mainly, but also Puldos.

I met Lamont and Nate in the reception area where I was busy having fun with Jawold, the punk receptionist with the 2 earrings and 4 gold teeth, tattoo’d neck and beautiful Louisiana syrrrrpy beeeebe accent. They are down here doing a job for the Venice Port Complex (nee Louisiana Fruit Company) - injecting water activated foam apoxy into a loose lipped barrier that keeps weeping out either side, defeating the purpose of the protection it is designed to offer. Squelchy. Can’t behave. Land is relaxing and submitting to the endless tugging...It’s losing integrity, just slopping out.