Art
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Leslie

I participate in the longest running Jell-O art show the nation, which is sponsored each year by a loose association of women artists and provocateurs known as the Radar Angels to benefit a local arts center. The Jell-O show features between 20-30 ephemeral works of art made from gelatin and mixed media that can be beautiful, silly, thought provoking, or runny, depending on the skill of the artist, the barometer reading (rainy days make the gelatin take longer to set up), or the temperature of the overhead lights. One year, when I was rushed and didn't have time to cook, my contribution was a Jell-O Zen garden: a shallow wooden box filled with fragrant Jell-O that gallery-goers could rake into patterns. Candy rocks completed the aesthetic design.

One of the high points of the Jell-O Art show is the Tacky Food Buffet, a tempting display of treats and food mistakes that have featured Jell-O Sushi, Tie-dyed eggs with Jell-O, colorful cereal treats and blue sauerkraut salad on toast points (I made those—people said they were delicious).

Tour Images, piece by piece.

View thumbnails of Images.





Leslie What is a Nebula Award-winning writer and the author of the novel Olympic Games and a collection, The Sweet and Sour Tongue. Her radio commentaries are a regular feature of public radio. She lives in Oregon, where she teaches writing, makes jewelry and masks, and exhibits in the longest-running Jell-O Art show in the nation. For more about her and her work, see her website.
Current Issue
22 Apr 2024

We’d been on holiday at the Shoon Sea only three days when the incident occurred. Dr. Gar had been staying there a few months for medical research and had urged me and my friend Shooshooey to visit.
...
Tu enfiles longuement la chemise des murs,/ tout comme d’autres le font avec la chemise de la mort.
The little monster was not born like a human child, yelling with cold and terror as he left his mother’s womb. He had come to life little by little, on the high, three-legged bench. When his eyes had opened, they met the eyes of the broad-shouldered sculptor, watching them tenderly.
Le petit monstre n’était pas né comme un enfant des hommes, criant de froid et de terreur au sortir du ventre maternel. Il avait pris vie peu à peu, sur la haute selle à trois pieds, et quand ses yeux s’étaient ouverts, ils avaient rencontré ceux du sculpteur aux larges épaules, qui le regardaient tendrement.
We're delighted to welcome Nat Paterson to the blog, to tell us more about his translation of Léopold Chauveau's story 'The Little Monster'/ 'Le Petit Monstre', which appears in our April 2024 issue.
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
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