Bev Baz makes these compilations. I can't say anything that would make more sense than to allow her own words to describe some of these works. Her descriptions of materials, places, placement actions and reasoning behind these mysterious pieces of art are the hidden half of the works. I am going to break from the usual and reprint Baz's own text. Here, the visual and textual compilations of Bev Baz, an amazing artist of the Urth.

Tiny Dancer is made from found root wood gathered at the Arroyo Seco in the San Gabriel Mountains. The roots reminded me of a skirt, specifically a ballerina skirt. While I stared at it trying to discern what I could do with it, I glanced over to a couple of photos I have had in my collection of until now, seemingly useless crap, and voila, Tiny Dancer came to be.
The photos are anonymous pictures from the 1950s of an aging ballerina leaping into the air. I miniaturized the pictures and hung them on the music sheet wallpaper of Tiny Dancers room, then framed the pictures with copper tape. A beatific face (an angel perhaps) peers down at her from the right hand corner. Hanging from copper wire threaded through the top and mound around two rusty birds on top of the box are two milagro legs. A little glass bottle filled with gold seed beads also holds her dancing shoes still attached to her legs. On the front of the box is a piece of copper with the name Tiny Dancer pounded on the front then patinated.
Tinys face is made of polymer clay and dusted with copper mica. She stands in her room surrounded by a rusty box dreaming of her next dance.

After my father died and my mother walked away from her house and furnishings without a second look, I had a lot to deal with. I wanted to just wave a wand and have most of it gone since like most Americans, my house and garage are filled with the excess of modern life. But I am also an inveterate junk collector, dumpster diver, can't-drive-past-the-broken-chair-at-the-side-of-the-road sort or person and I saw potential in a lot of my mother's seemingly useless things.
This birdcage has never held a bird but it did hang off the side of the back patio cover in the burning San Fernando Valley sun and had built up a nice patina.
I added to the patina with some copper paint, copper greening patina and a bit of Mrs. Stewart's Bluing. The egg on top has been blown and painted with gold and holds the face of an angel with some copper mica dusting on her hair and eyes. Beneath the egg is another angel made of wood. Spanish moss gathered from Bayou Coquille outside New Orleans encircle the wood holding the egg and the angel.
Beneath them are gold painted shattered egg shells. Two angels keep close watch on either side of the cage and a tiny blue and gold heart hangs from the middle.
A pounded copper tag patinated with more Mrs. Stewart's Bluing reads, "What Came First". A quote from the 19th century poet Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters To A Young Poet is inscribed on the front. It reads: "I could give you no advice but this, to go into yourself and to explore the depths of where your life wells forth." Can be hung from the center top or set on a table or shelf. So what do you think came first? The angel or the egg?

Ship of Fools came to be when I stumbled upon an unwieldy piece of wood in the Arroyo Seco. Even though it was bigger then most of my found wood choices, I dragged it home to add to my collection because it seemed to hold such promise. It had a built in seat and when held in a certain position felt like a boat to me.
I added copper wire masts and attached pennies to them. I like a lot and I like using them in different ways. I made a face out of polymer clay using a mold I made from a cheap plaster of paris bust a friend gave me. Her hat is a smashed tin can I found at an abandoned house on Route 66. I like to think some lonesome hobo ate his dinner out of that tin can and smashed it with is foot before falling asleep with a full belly.
Another smashed tin can with cleaned and dried chicken bones and copper wire creates the mast flag.

As once the winged energy
of delight carried you
over childhood’s dark
abysses, now beyond your
own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges

Wonders happen if we can
succeed in passing through
the harshest danger, but
only in a bright and
purely granted achievement
can we realize the wonder

To work with Things in the
indescribable relationship
is not too hard for us,
the pattern grows more
intricate and subtle;
and being swept along
is not enough

Take your practical powers
and stretch them out until
they open the chasm between
two contradictions
For the god wants to know
himself in you

Rainer Maria Rilke