Home and fatigued from a day spent at Iron Artist. After three hours of grueling sculpting with scrap, we had a hideous mutant chicken (not quite as wonderfully mutant as the Cannibal Team's bio-chicken, which had udders and rightfully won) that hopefully fit the 'farm' theme.

Alas, my shiny new camera was neglected at home.

Iron Artist was a spectacular collection of friendly freaks. If I'm to attend again, we need better freak uniforms. I am not someone suited for the rigors of ferric artisting - I'm nowhere near as rowdy as is expected.

After the constructing, the Last Regiment of Syncopated Drummers performed, followed by an excellent jazz-bluegrass quarter of unknown origin.

We won 'most commercially viable', which is good considering Jan has to make a living off art. In keeping with the reuse purpose of Iron Artist, our medals are printed onto the backs of old high school marathon medals.

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