Inga Lena's Profile

About

How lovely that you are here! My name is Inga Lena and I am a Maker of Things. Specifically, I construct monsters and other absurdery. I trust that you will enjoy my collection of illogical characters, and perhaps venture to invite one into your home.

For a look behind-the-scenes check in here:
Instagram: @absurdery (I am most active here)
Facebook: www.facebook.com/absurdery
Blog: www.ingalena.com

My work has been featured in these publications:
Stampington's STUFFED magazine, July 2010
Stampington's STUFFED magazine, July 2011


Here's some light reading about my early days when I was making plush monsters:

You want me to…

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  • Female
  • Born on October 15
  • Joined December 14, 2011

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grit grime amateurvoodoo

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absurdery
A collection of illogical characters.

About

How lovely that you are here! My name is Inga Lena and I am a Maker of Things. Specifically, I construct monsters and other absurdery. I trust that you will enjoy my collection of illogical characters, and perhaps venture to invite one into your home.

For a look behind-the-scenes check in here:
Instagram: @absurdery (I am most active here)
Facebook: www.facebook.com/absurdery
Blog: www.ingalena.com

My work has been featured in these publications:
Stampington's STUFFED magazine, July 2010
Stampington's STUFFED magazine, July 2011


Here's some light reading about my early days when I was making plush monsters:

You want me to... what, sew? On... the sewing machine? O hells no, that wicked hungry thing will eat my fingers bones and all.

This was my sentiment toward sewing machines for the first 30 years of my life. Most people don't willingly put their fingers near electronic devices that contain wildly stabbing needles. Well, when I turned 30 I asked my sweet Grammy to purchase a sewing machine for me because I wanted to build monsters. Here's how it went....

With my hands shaking and my knees knocking and my brow dotted with sweat, I slowly approached the pristine and deceptively quiet white machine. It smelled fear on me. It growled and wound its bobbin menacingly in my direction. I threw up a little in my mouth. I moved cautiously toward the obviously enraged and most likely poisonous Singerzilla. With reckless abandon I thrust my fabric at it, jerking my head back and squinting my eyes. I drew in a breath violently through my nose, preparing for the worst. I won't go into detail, but there was bloodshed and some uncontrolled elimination. It was mine.

Over the next tense 45 minutes to an hour we sized each other up. Though small offerings of patterned fabric we slowly gained each other's trust. I placed a spool of thread on my forehead, showing it that I too am a sewing machine.

Every now and then while I'm sewing monster bodies it goes in for a little nip. It's still a little touch-and-go but for the most part we are developing a strong bond.

So I am able to present my absurdery to you in relative safety, because I care.

xx
Inga

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