I can’t tell you how many times people have seen my Spawn pieces and assumed they were teeth – crazy, misshapen, often demonic teeth, but teeth nonetheless. I’m all about letting people see what they want to see in my artwork – every individual experiences the world differently, and that’s just their way of connecting with what I do. I love it. I invite it.
But the Spawn are not teeth. Which got me to thinking, perhaps this is the people crying out to me for teeth? Maybe that’s what they want? Why deny them what they want?
A few weeks ago I made a first pass at a prototype for the tooth fairy companion pouch. Put your loose teeth in it, hang it on the wall, put it under your pillow, whatever, and when you wake up in the morning, you’ll find your teeth have been replaced by shiny treasure!
This was also my first experience with zippers – something I once considered to be an insurpmountable obstacle turned out to be not so bad.
When I was a kid losing my teeth, the Tooth Fairy always left me fat, shiny 50 cent pieces – the most elusive and rare of the US currency (or so I thought at the time). I loved them, and to this day I still have my collection of them.
Of course, one of those is made of plastic and was not given to me by the tooth fairy but by a friend long after all my teeth had fallen out.
Another friend gave me this fifty-center, with Ben Franklin on it:
I would have loved to have a pouch like this when I was building up my tooth money collection!
A Nocturnal Haiku:
A flutter of wings,
Your bicuspids disappear,
And treasure spews forth!
((**PS – I know a certain little niece of mine, recently having begun teething, who is going to have the cutest, most wonderful tooth fairy pouch in existence when the time comes!**))