It all started with a REALLY bad day at work. I was cast in the role of villain, and it wasn’t the first time.
My husband (who is charming, funny and nice) and I own a coffee shop called the Raven Cafe. He handles the operations and I manage all aspects of the aesthetics. I do my best to “stay in my lane” and manage the things I’m good at, and it is NOT managing people.
When addressing matters I personally appreciate an honest and direct approach. Some may perceive this as tactless, but I’m never mean-spirited. Compared to my socially adept entertainer of a spouse, I understand why I’m perceived as the “villain”, but hey, bitches get shit done.
Most days being the bad cop doesn’t bother me, but on this particular day I actually thought about it- was I an actual bad guy, a cartoon villain twirling its mustache? And, if I am, have I always been a bad guy?
This thought process inspired the “Bitty Baddies” series. In the style of Margaret Keane’s big-eyed waifs, I transform real and imagined villains into sweet, innocent children, because nobody is born bad. Not even me.
Cruella de Vil (Disney)
Night King (Game of Thrones)
Donald Trump (Commander & Tweeter)
Little Sister (Bioshock)
Edgar Allan Poe
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