Carol is 85 and beats the heads off live rattlesnakes. Then she skins the rest of the snake. And salts the skins.
This is her collection.
She and the rattlesnakes live, and some expire, on a big ranch down the road from me.
Every Thursday, my art friend Regina, myself and our art teacher Stan, come to Carol’s house to paint. Many times when I walk from outside the house into Carol’s laundry room, I jump half my body length into the air. I jump because Carol has several snake skins or more, laid out on the top of her dryer, right next to the door. They’re just lying there like live snakes in repose; relaxed and salted as they dry.
I often shriek. (more…)