So long, Frank McCourt

I know there are millions of people who love this guy, so this little post doesn't say anything new or profound. Just that I like this writer because his beautiful book Angela's Ashes put him in the spotlight at age 66, after he retired, and then we got to discover his other gift of teaching, and his humor, and his gentle nature, and the edgy side of a man who bloomed late in life.

Good literature validates the smallest corner of the reader's soul, and McCourt's writing found many of those corners and hung a little lamp there. He seemed brave and kind, and somehow comforting like a stormy summer afternoon. His writing on poverty/alcoholism when he was a child felt like a big quilt being pulled over the terrible resilience, fierceness, and open-ness of childhood. Readers felt safe in his hands, even when he was describing horrible things. At least that's the way I see it.

I have a book in which I write out in longhand favorite passages from books I read. I assure you there are several passages of Frank McCourt's.


I'm going back and re-reading some of his work today, I think. Rest his soul.

Family Trip to Nebraska (Please indulge me.)

The corn was 10 feet tall, due to record rainfall this summer. I've never seen anything like it.

NE by car. I have a thing about taking pictures from car windows. It's even easier to do this when I'm not driving, which means I usually only get to do it on family vacations.

Me and brother Rob had lunch in Lincoln. I love my sibs. (Ryan wasn't in NE at the time.)

The kids and me, a rare photo of my usual gang.

Sister Liz, Mom Ginger, and moi.

Jo Lynne and Dad

My family...Katie, Me, Willie, Henry, Bill.

A departure from the art; I just have to introduce my family now and then.

As much as I use my camera, I don't get family photos very often (too bad). So this summer I made a point of it. So happy to share...

A New Fabric Store!

Oh, happy day! My life changed today; FINALLY!... a place to pick up a spool of Mettler thread without driving 25 miles into Austin!

Boy, have we needed (well, okay, I needed) a fabric store out here in west Austin area... and now it's here -- The Cotton Cupboard just opened in Lakeway right near my gym. I'm delighted with the place already! Gorgeous fabrics (that you can't get at Joannes and Hancock), lots of natural light, and a huge work/classroom in the back.

I checked their website and they will be selling long arm machines and holding quilt classes for kids and adults. The owner Jessica gave me two free fat quarters with the purchase of seven today. I don't know if that's the regular deal or just a grand opening sale, but if you're anywhere nearby -- and passionate about yummy fabrics -- you gotta stop.

The pics don't do my new little stack of fat quarters justice, but Flickr toys helped me create my picture quilt. I'm going to make a new doll. Maybe I'll make one for the owner of my new favorite shop...just to show my gratitude! And I know I'm not the only one!

Woof.

Red Rover in my weedy garden

The first day of Art Fiber Fest I taught some other artists how to make a quilted creature. Everyone brought in a picture of their favorite animal and I showed them how to soft sculpt muslin and poly-fil with string into a form. Then the long task of quilting began.

Four of the six women finished the patchwork (after hours), but they all seemed to have fun. In any case, their animals were amazing and like nothing I expected!

I made "Red Rover" with the intention of a German Shepherd. But instead it looks like a mutt of some sort. He's a good dog.

The topsy turvy doll is all mine.

Katie's making her own doll!

My doll.

Sorry Katie, I know you wanted this one. But "Little Wink/OMG" ended up belonging only to me.

Daughter Katie was miffed when I told her she couldn't have this doll, which I love. So she made her own! I need to emial Roxanne Padgett the pictures of Katie making one of her own topsy turvy dolls from the instructor packet Roxanne gave us. Katie had fun making hers too (top pic.)

See, the old adage is true: "Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he'll eat for a lifetime."

Same with topsy turvy dolls.

My own enchanted cottage...

Pained dolls at Gallery 9...Not thrilled with these...I've moved on.

Mom and cool Corgi dog at Gallery 9, Lincoln, NE

(a painting I covet in the background.)

Ceramic dolls at Gallery 9. These rock. She also made a Leda and the Swan, which my Aunt Sharon and I both liked a lot. Think I'll make a Leda doll someday.


This is where I'd live if I felt pretty all the time:

my own enchanted cottage.

I made this cottage at Art Fiber Fest. The next few posts are going to be about my trip to Portland, and what I made there. Also about our family vacation to NE last week.

Here's a story about "art camp." I met a wonderful girl at ArtFiberFest, Leslie, whom I really enjoyed. I related to her immediately because she said two things that often occur to me when I'm making art:

The first was something about the act of creating being a God-given act, as in "the creator creates...et voila! so do we!"

I used to feel humbled when I made something because I thought making (can I even claim it?) "art" was just an over-the-top, too-big-for-my-britches kind of pasttime. At the end of the day, I possessed a fully satisfied, but humbled disposition, as well as a small nagging voice in my head saying, "Who do you think you are, making that thing?" (Probably a common sentiment among young mothers who have plenty of other chores they could be doing.) And oddly, in spite of everything, I truly wasn't sure who I was. Call it hormones.

Now, thankfully, I'm beginning to know who is this person making (sure, say it!) art, and also -- this is big -- I know God approves, or at least I don't seem to need His/Her approval...for in making art/music/dance/whatever, we honor the Creator. BIG TIME. At least I think so. Making stuff is NO collossal waste of time!

The second thing Leslie said was something along these lines: "Whenever I try to make something "pretty" it just never turns out pretty. I'm not there yet."

Oy, do I know that; I know I do not have a pretty girl inside me! I went to Gallery9 in Lincoln, NE last week with my mom and my Aunt who invited me. I got to see a couple of dolls I sent as a guest exhibitor, as well as some really wonderful art like the ceramic dolls above. (And darn it; I didn't write down the artist's name!) I really did cringe a little bit, because having just returned from art camp in Portland, those dolls I made last year (to my eyes) seemed so pained and contrived. Ironically, just days before, I had felt so free. What I saw in those dolls I sent: Pretty -- with cramps. Ok, so what do I expect with a doll that has torn out her heart and extends it in front of her? And another dressed in a super-hero costume? I do realize there is something a little tart in all that. But still, I did try for "pretty" in a way...and failed.

But the cottage; ah, now there's something pretty! And yet, the broken woman's torso is stitched on as a chimney...after all, every woman has to let off a little steam now and then!

Getting ready

The top picture is Willie and his/our neighbor friend. (Her dad was sitting right next to me on the porch as I took this picture.) Willie and she have been good friends forever. Tonight they aregued about who "dumped" who (isn't that ridiculous?), then tried shooting an aluminum can with the slingshot. (We all tried and missed.) Then we had popsicles.

Meanwhile Katie was in my studio looking for cool stuff for me to pack to ArtFiberFest. There's a ton of great junk in here. When Katie is bored she explores my studio; tonight she had a purpose for looking, so I think she had even more fun.

I'm feeling a strong push/pull in energy these days. I think for my house project I am going to make a house in shadow and the other half in light. For the topsy turvy doll I am going to make a red hot devil and a pretty-in-pink angel. That should do it.

If you believe in the power of prayer, I know a family who needs yours tonight. I put forth a special intention -- and thanks!

Invisible Cities

This book by Italian writer Italo Calvino is always fun to open and read at any page, which I did last night while sitting on the front porch at dusk. Willie was riding his scooter, and the birds were darting around just like in Esmerelda, one of the cities (all named after women) that Calvino describes. Each of Calvino's cities is --I stopped writing for over a minute here becuase there's not one adjective that comes to mind...So you'll just have to read it yourself.

Above is an illustration by Mikhail Veisel of Esmerelda and one by "Rod" from his Rodcorp blog of Ersilia...just some interesting things I found related to this book. It's a rich source of inspiration for artists because of the poetic descriptions of each city. I think there may be a quilt or two in there.

It came!

The cover and binding -- blue velvet and buttons.

Barbie shoes and Dancing feet
The flapper flaps open to reveal Laurie's bare feet, stitched -- toes and all, actual size.

New Shoes -- women and little girls both love them!
The flaps on the left page have little shoe surprises behind them.
The picture on the right is great because there is a doll next to that cute bobbed-head baby, and the shadow of the photographer's head on the steps in front of her...sweet.

My babies' bronzed shoes on the left and a Donald Pliner (I think) beauty on the right...and a little man rowing it across a glacial lake...Dream Big, whatever it means to you!

The masquerading ladies on the left below which is a pocket with a vintage shoe horn and carded shoe button from a well-known-at-one-time socialite. Laurie bought it from a guy who collected shoe memorabilia and documented it all, then sold the collection on ebay. (You think I have a fetish?)

The right page is a delish juxtoposition of county/disco -- and a sparkly vintage silver button.

Home and Away, both pages with hand drawn bird buttons.

The left page is a copy of an actual photo I took in the garage one spring. A silly bird built her nest in my work boot. The left is a picture taken in a Nazi concentration camp -- a pile of shoes.

Quote beneath says "Of all the shoes that you have at home, which pair would you choose to wear if given only a few minutes to gather all of your possessions?"

Six of one; Half dozen of the other.

Edwardian lovelies, embroidery, vintage lace and glass buttons - and ceramic bobby soxers!

The back cover, and a collection of fabric swatches and ephemera Laurie collected for me.

I've actually hugged my new book a couple of times today, I love it so. Laurie read my mind today, I guess, becuase my walk to the mailbox was rewarded with the usual bills and pitches...then, lo...Treasure. Laurie bound it perfectly and included a few extra special things for me to stitch on if I want to. What a satisfying end to our collaboration!

I hope I meet some willing person next week in Portland who'd like to start another book with me, or maybe some other project. This sure was fun.

The excitement of getting away to play for a few days next week is finally beginning to build! I've kept it out of my mind becuase I've been so busy with other things, but this shoe book really delighted me today. UPS shipped all my stuff out yesterday, so all I have to do is pack my stash for my workshops and I'm there! Can't wait to be with my fiber family.

In the midst of this, there is the tax assessor's informal hearing tomorrow, which I am NOT looking forward to. Oh well, to everything there is a season.

A little diversion

Between writing emails, I'm opening email of my own from shoebuy.com ...and there they were.

Whoa, Nellie. I want an excuse to wear these...oh please oh please!

On another note, I think my old friend Laurie is going to be sending the shoes book back home to me soon. She wrote me last week, telling me so, and I truly can't wait to see that thing again. It's a smallish quilted book -- all about shoes. We've been trading books back and forth for about 4 years now. At first it was hot and heavy, every two months or so. But we've droppped way off, and are just now finishing them up. Laurie's theme was, well...themes. So each page had some visual thing explored in fiber, ephemera, and pretty things of all sorts. Mine was "SHOES."

Change your shoes, change your life.

Look, twins!

Actually, no. Just a couple of topsy turvy dolls made by Roxanne Padgett. This is the other class I'm taking next week.

Being a gemini, I'm always on the lookout for twins. Near (but slightly off) symmetry really makes me happy. That's why I can't wait to try making a topsy turvy doll; remember those? They have a skirt that flips over each head and reveals two different heads!

Truly an excellent idea. One I've wanted to explore, and when I saw Roxanne's class listed I jumped on it. Take a look at her blog and you'll see why I think she's going to be such a fun teacher, too!

The Enchanted Felt Cottage

I'm feeling the edges smooth out a bit as I look over what I need to bring to Portland.

This beautiful soft armful of cozy hominess is the creation of Charlotte Lyons, who is a force in the art/craft and publishing world. I can't wait to take her class, and relish the thought of collecting the things I need to make my own little cottage...

I have some pretty jewelry and buttons and silks in mind. I already want to move right in.

I don't even know these people.

And really, who am I to even want to finish these things?

They assume characters when I'm working on them. I can already see a wistfulness in a couple of their eyes that breaks my heart. Maybe a few months ago they would have seemed peaceful and charming. I'm not sure I can begin. They start speaking to me, and I feel a little crazy and consumed by the intimacy they require. I'm a little afraid of them. I don't have time for them. How sad is that? They are orphans.

Nevertheless, I should probably work on a few so I have something small and light to vend in Portland next week, in the event that I'd be taking/shipping them back home. My Aunt also wants some dolls for an invitational show at a gallery in Lincoln. I should "just do it" like the slogan says. Stop thinking about stuff and act. The way things are these days, I might leave some bad karma on them as I finished them, and then NO ONE would want them.

The kids want to leave for the pool. Can't blame them; it's 150 degrees again today. And so we'll go, becuase I love nothing more than vegging at the pool on a beautiful day when I have a gajillion things on my mind. My greatest fear (well, one of them) is a stunningly gorgeous cage.

This is drivel, and I regret it.

The church bulletin today had an ad for a "desert retreat" where you discover grace through silence. It caught my eye. Now, who could imagine that?

Wicked

Thank goodness for a moral compass. I am wicked today...but at least I know it.

Funny I haven't found the time or desire to make a "Glinda the Good Witch" quilt. But I will someday, to satisfy my symmetrical leanings.

"...Wicked through and through."

String Balls

Art Fiber Fest is approaching fast. At these festivals, people often make some small pretty things to trade with others. It's fun to come home with a bunch of delightful tiny things handmade by the people you meet. The organizer chose "ORBS" as the theme his year, so my trades are these little string balls. I learned how to make the traditional TEMARI, Japanese string balls, from a book a few years back and I gave them all away. They were about 4 or 5 inches in diameter and they had beautiful, embroidered geometric designs all centered around one unifying "equator" called the OBI, which is also the word for the belt you tie around your waist to hold your kimono in place.

I used ping pong balls as a base for these, and found them difficult to wind because of the smaller circumference. Knowing the traditional Japanese designs would be very labor intensive and almost impossible to stitch on such a small surface with a hard substrate, I instead beaded them and stitched them in a freeform design (very non-Temari-like). They're cute, I think!

Memorial Day 09

Grateful.

This tree must go

Ten years ago it was alive; this mighty elder in the front yard. Since then, it's drawn back and now its tips still sprout an excruciating green, shriveled and unconvincing...but only at the top. It is dying.

We sawed some hefty strong limbs from its lower shady realm, when it was obvious they would never photosynthesize again, hoping to spur a new flourishing at the higher levels. But now, the tops are languishing. The architecture is still there; the bones. But the tree's life is drawn down, leaving peeling bark in its descent.

We will take it down in the fall, after the plants beneath it are dormant. We hope the falling limbs spare the beauties below, somehow. But we are willing to sacfrifice some smaller plants and shrubs to facilitate an efficient removal of this massive cedar. We can always replant.

The birds this evening seem to choke out a song of homage. The tree will be gone by this time next year. No bird that sings has warmed to the lofty pledge of protection for a new nest this spring. They, too, know its promise it gone.

The Year of the Snake

Just because I have a little time today (it being Memorial Weekend and all) I'm posting TWO things today, with a renewed vow to do better. This blog takes absolutely no time to update; but my heart has to be in it, you know? Summer always brings creativity and the time to pursue it. An interesting correlation -- I also drink more wine and stay up later in the summer. Could that be related to creativity? Or just late-night tipsy hours in front of the computer?

In any case, for those of you who don't have the great privilege of living in the country, I'll let you in on a strange secret. When you look through a field guide, or a regional handbook on flora and fauna, you see the whole gamut of species that thrive in a certain area. And it's true. If you search, they do all exist, however not always in the same proportions (size and population) from year to year.

Each year, depending on the weather, and other natural conditions, certain species do better than others. For example, 9 years ago when we first moved in, we saw hundreds of the largest walking sticks you've ever seen. They were plentiful and gargantuan. "We must be in Texas now," was what we said. Having never seen a walking stick bigger than a matchstick before, we were thrilled and creeped out that these were the thickness and length of a magic marker!

The next year it was Praying Mantises, and not many walking sticks at all. Huge, bright green bugs (5 inches at least, all of them) congregated on the back porch and dropped from doorways (!) every time you went in or out. They set me on edge quite a bit more than those walking sticks because their hopping/flying capabilities lofted them face high, and there was no predictable pattern to their erratic leaps. And then there are those hateful waves of sound they make in chorus, rolling in crescendoes from the insides of trees in the darkness, while one or two (or seven) spring here and there on the path, looking you in the eye as they arc past where you intend to walk. Truly unnerving.

A few years later, the year of albino geckos. Seriously. Almost see-through, with pink eyes.

This year it's snakes. I wouldn't say they're EVERYWHERE, exactly, although the summer has only just begun. So far this spring we've seen 5 of them: slender green ones like this one above, which I adore; fat short gray bull snakes; and those gravel-colored gray/white/black ones. Over the nearly 10 years we've lived here, we've only seen two -- a rattlesnake (which promptly lost its head to a shovel blade) and another one like the one Willie's holding in the picture above.

I know women are supposed to naturally hate snakes (the Genesis story holds water, in my experience; I've known women, and some men, who practically fall apart when they encounter a snake). But they don't bother me so much. I've never seen one look like it wanted anything from me but to leave it alone, except for one time when I must have nicked a large garter snake with a lawn mower. Judging by the way it reared up and hissed, that one was angry, and I quit mowing for the day. Usually I regard snakes in the yard and garden with no more intense feeling than surprise and curiosity. Don't let me find one in the house, though!

Here's the first snake of spring, the color of green filtered sunshine. Love love love.

A Happy Memorial Day to all. Bless the fallen heroes (and their families). May we never forget them or their sacrifices, and the honor they preserved for this great country.

Life is Sweet...

...even when there are axes to grind.

I can hardly believe no one would want this lovely quilt hanging on his wall. It's called "Easy Money: Love, the Federal Reserve" one of 5 quilts I had in a show at Copper Shade Tree Gallery in February of this year. And here's what the gallery owner wrote in his note when he returned them: "Thank you for participating in the show. We are sending all five quilts back to you."

Ah, the life of an artist. Actually I'm grinning as I write this. The truth is I don't mind that none of my quilts sold (I admit they're a little edgy); I'm just glad to have an outlet to play. I know there are some of you out there who can appreciate that pretty soon our money will be worth more sewn into blankets.

Since receiving my quilts back from the show, and with the upcoming ArtFiberFest in Portland, I'm actually beginning to feel my creative juices swirling around again. Whew. For a few months there, I thought they were gone forever.

Making a Patchwork Pig

Does a day go by when I don't have to learn some sort of lesson? NO -- God keeps me humble. I needed to finish up another patchwork animal for the workshop I'm doing at ArtFiberFest in Portland this summer. Teesha Moore, the organizer, wanted 4 good pictures of the project so I hurried and made this one last week.

I just put the ears on today. I didn't copy a pig from a picture as I made it and so I forgot the ears completely. I kept thinking it looked like a pacybara or a guinea pig, and couldn't figure out why. Then it dawned on me. It's amazing I would forget the ears...but I did. (Funny, I don't like making ears for my dolls either.)

This is a problem which is probably a deeper reflection on my ability to listen. It seems to be a theme this week, in fact, but I won't go into it now. Let's just say I could stand to open my mind, ears, and heart more and things would go better. I photographed and printed many shots of the ear-less pig before I realized the problem. Now, photographing artwork is not really one of my favorite things to do because I have to set up a background, get the light just right, use a tri-pod, etc. (it's a pain in the ass when you don't have a studio set up for it). So realizing that I would have to do that all over again after I corrected my deaf pig didn't thrill me. Anyway, it's done. And, as usual, I learned a lesson.

As I quilted Mr. (ear less) Pig last week, my mind kept turning to a show I'm doing next month at Copper Shade Tree Gallery in Round Top, TX (more about that another time). I'm excited to be in the show because it's an art quilt show, and I haven't delved into art quilts much until the last year or so. But I submitted a couple of quilts and got in (Yea!). Now I'm pressed to get two more quilts done in the next couple of weeks. I was thinking, as I hand stitched the patches onto the pig, "wouldn't it be nice if this were a quilt, then I could kill two birds with one shot." And it occurred to me: the theme of the quilt show is "It's not a quilt...Or is it?" So I think I'll take Mr. Pig down with my other quilts and see if it will go into the show! Gerald said to go ahead and be creative -- maybe this 3D quilted animal constitutes a "quilt of sorts. We'll see what the gallery-owner thinks of that.