I'm quite the collector. Or at least I used to be. As much as it pains me to say it, it is possible to have too many things. That's what has happened with what I have variously referred to as my skull collection, my Day of the Dead collection, or my "you know, stuff" collection. My collection -- consisting mostly of Day of the Dead figurines, monster movie memorabilia, and assorted morbid trinkets -- now fills the shelves, drawers and top of a large curio cabinet and I've had to admit to myself that it's pretty much complete, simply because I have no room for any more, you know, stuff.
While most of my beloved objets d'art are mass produced and quite common, I do own a few rare items. For instance, I fell in love with The Nightmare Before Christmas upon its initial release and started buying the few collectibles available as far back as 1993. How many other modern-day collectors went through the Burger King drive-thru just to buy not one, not two, but three Nightmare watches for $3.99 apiece? Just me, baby. I also have a few one-of-a-kind pieces, as you can see below.
This is Jennifer. I know she is one-of-a-kind because I made her myself nearly 20 years ago. (Criminently, I'm suddenly feeling old.) This Day of the Dead doll is based on a young woman named Jennifer who used to do the children's storytime at my place of employment. I worked very hard to get the details right in her outfit: she frequently wore black pants and a black blouse with a bright pink floral vest, and she also donned her blue work apron on the sales floor. I like this doll because I can see its handmade quality, right down to my fingerprints on her shoulders and shoes. The real-life Jennifer and I were not friends but we were on a friendly basis; today, however, I have no idea why I decided to capture her in action in a Fimo Day of the Dead figurine. I also couldn't understand why she simply would not take it when I made a gift of it to her -- it never occurred to me that someone might freak out seeing a small representation of a dead her. Today, small Dead Jennifer resides in a little glass case inside my larger curio cabinet, surrounded by equally small plastic and plaster skulls and Little Big Heads. It's a dark, quiet life, but at least she is wanted here. If I ever decide to make another Day of the Dead doll, it will either be something generic or it will represent someone who's already dead.