Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. We Don't Need No Stinkin' Two Foot Hollow Chicken: A Glimpse into the Wildly Creative Mind of Devin VanDomelin

We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Two Foot Hollow Chicken: A Glimpse into the Wildly Creative Mind of Devin VanDomelin  Have you ever walked into a room and met someone you felt you were friends with, even though you’d never seen them before? That’s what happened when I walked into my first Professional Actors class with the wonderful Nancy McDonald at Lakewood Theatre. I was so eager I was a half hour early, and so were Devin VanDomelin and her husband, Dorian. After close to two years of keeping in touch, we were finally able to get together outside of class when we convened at my home for dinner the Saturday evening before Easter. My guests brought a bottle of snappy and smooth red Spanish wine in its own gilded net wrapper and while sharing a glass, Devin told me my book Six Degrees to Your Dreams had inspired her to open her own art gallery.

Can you imagine a better feeling than that? At first opportunity I raced over to Devin’s new space, Mad Stoat Maskworks Gallery and Thingshop, and interviewed her for my blog.

Here are some insights into the wildly creative mind of Devin VanDomelin, and how my book gave her the nudge she needed to step into her dream.

The first thing I asked her was, “Why the masks—how did mask-making start for you?” That’s a short question with a history of answer…so let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Devin, an only child, was raised in Portland, Oregon, by parents in the theatre. The theatre was her babysitter, where she learned adults can do what kids love to do – dress up and play someone else. Actors weren’t paid in cash at the time, in the Lake Oswego Community Theatre as it was known then, but they could take home all their costumes and wigs. Devin loved to try on her mother’s costumes…and take them off, like when she and two friends got together to perform the Stripper’s musical number from Gypsy…at the age of eight! “When you don’t have a lot of money,” Devin says, “you play with rocks and sticks.” Devin credits her theatrical, and some might say eccentric, parents for inspiring and encouraging her creativity at an early age. Devin’s mother made handmade paper dolls called “Mommy Dolls” and alongside Devin, drew and colored recreations of her elaborate costumes. Devin’s father created mind-expanding stop-motion animation films just for his daughter. One she particularly loved showed the toys from her toy box coming alive at night to clean her room. Even today, buying something on Amazon seems almost too easy to Devin, or at least far less interesting. She cuts up her to-go containers to make her own Shrinky Dinks rather than buying the branded product. In 1995, Devin moved to Colorado to be with her mother’s side of the family. (Her father had moved to Los Angeles to pursue theatre and is now a full time Stage Manager there.) She met her husband when she was cast as Sister Robert Anne in Nunsense and Dorian was the stage manager. Dorian worked as a resident Technical Director at Denver Victorian Playhouse, and Devin worked as an actress full time at night, along with her day job at Together dating service.

After five years of steadily acting and finally fulfilling her dream role as Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors, Devin missed the green and moss of Oregon, and was ready to branch out on her own. As providence would have it, upon arrival back on Oregon soil, she was greeted by the Society for Creative Anachronism, or the SCA – also known as “those weird folk who dress up in Renaissance costumes and go play in the woods”, Devin says. This was “an army of literally thousands of folk who really needed someone to step up and put on some period entertainment. So, in 2000 Dorian and I took the reins of The Aeon Babylon Players (a small troupe that worked with exclusively within our particular Household…House Daos.) Every season we wrote, directed and performed in these bawdy innovations…including our own wedding! Guests thought The Golden Stool was just another play in which the characters got married until the surprise was revealed at the end.” All the SCA period costumes were hand-made, including the masks. Devin was introduced to an established local mask-maker who mentored her and found Devin’s work impressive enough to hire her after the internship. When Devin first started making masks, the process involved a clay sculpture, cumbersome vacuum forming machine for the plastic core, and detailed razor cutting, by hand. Ouch! Technology (specifically 3D replicator technology) has simplified the process a thousand-fold. Now, the sculpture is virtual and the replicator creates the blank mask form…already cut out! In 2003, Devin took her business online and was surprised by the mask market (pun intended) right here in Portland. She sells even more masks for local masquerade balls than she does for Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Each mask is entirely unique and they range in price from $80 - $150. I’m still deciding on my first one! The society sparked Devin’s innovative idea for the “flying books” I adore as well.

House Daos holds an elaborate annual New Year’s Eve party, and for years Devin and Dorian hosted it, living in the upstairs level of their home to dedicate the first floor and basement for the party, painstakingly decorating each room to that year’s theme.

The year “Mad Librarians Ball” was the theme, with each room decorated to represent a specific story or author, Flying Books were born – Devin’s rescue project for falling apart books which will never be read again. She makes these lovely, tired old books into art.

Late into the interview, it occurred to me to ask Devin about her education. While surrounded by the striking, innovative and emotionally touching art she’s created and invited into her gallery, formal education feels irrelevant…this is the education of a creative life, allowing your mind to open to the possibilities and then doing something about it. Yet Devin did spend three years at Portland State University, where she…get this…got bad grades in Art. I know, WTF, right? She gave me an example of one assignment: To create a two-foot chicken, hollow inside, with kiln-fired clay. What the heck would she do with a two-foot hollow chicken? It might be nice for a Midwest backyard garden (I think my parents actually have one, with a couple of chicks, now that I think about it) but that had nothing to do with Devin’s inner artistry. Instead, she made a skull candelabra…which *was* hollow…and she got a D.

I find this so ironic. Let’s now return to the present, shall we? Devin and Dorian had long scouted ideas and places for some kind of an artist/engineer collaboration, including the particular plaza where Mad Stoat Maskworks Gallery and Thingshop now exists. The timing wasn’t right until they returned from a restorative and renewing two-month sabbatical in Costa Rica. The travel experience motivated Devin to create again with a fresh head. New possibilities unfolded in the 3D printer once they got back home, and Dorian found his creativity unlocked through the technology as well. Their idea of opening the gallery to when they signed the lease was literally a matter of five days. The two parts of my book, Six Degrees to Your Dreams, which most inspired Devin to jump on her dream of opening an art gallery were the “Me Now” exercise and the concept of “asking for help is offering to help.” Devin wanted an artist-friendly gallery home to address all the frustrations she’d had dealing with galleries in the past. In her gallery, the artists get a higher percentage of sales. A body of work isn’t necessary – she’s just as happy with one piece as she is with 8-10. Age, background and experience don’t matter…the artists showing to date range in age from 16 to 60. Devin has accomplished her purpose. I invite you to find her at www.madstoat.com, on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/MadStoat/?pnref=story and if you’re local, come visit her gallery at 11830 Kerr Parkway, Lake Oswego, OR 97035. You might see me there! I love to collaborate. An exchange of ideas and inspiration, feeling valued for your creativity, is an exchange of joy. People will ask where you got that amazing mask. No-one will ask where you got that twenty-dollar bill. —Devin VanDomelin Action Step: Some people can’t see the value in fun/creative pursuits amidst a pile of “musts” or “have-to’s.” Why should we make our creative wants and self-expression a priority even when the to-do list is a mile long? Share your insights on the blog to help us all embrace our inner artist. If you found this post helpful, please share it with your friends! Authentically Yours, Laura