Royal Lazy Cats

These are our cats, Princess and Pinto (I think you can tell which is which). Since adopting these two poor homeless animals and getting them all fixed up for cushy indoor living, we've noticed that they have assumed a very unproductive lifestyle. It's disgraceful how lazy and fat Pinto is getting -- not to mention mean. You'd never know it from this picture, but he torments little Princess something awful. We all hope she gets him back someday, but she doesn't seem to mind the abuse and keeps coming back for more. See what a life of leisure does to cats' characters?

In any case, my friend Emily, who has helped many other families and cats find each other, is having a little party this week. We're all bringing pictures of our cats, and I'm certain mine will win for most drastic change of lifestyle.

Last week's AFA Meeting

Top pic: Guest speaker Cheryl Elms's braided and woven garments enthralled us in their intricacy and general fabulousness!

Bottom pic: Susan Storey is a new and talented member. She used digital images in her art quilts.

Burial of Grandma McGahan

Can you imagine the stout heart of the pioneers who made homes in a place as desolate as this? The picture above is the cemetery outside of Elsie, NE in the Nebraska panhandle. And this is 160 years after this place was settled! What a different world it was when bravery and toil were the qualities which rewarded men and women with a small amount of success.

Grandma McGahan, Bill's father's mother, was laid to rest here last Saturday Nov. 22. In some respects, no one knows of her successes, for they were probably the inner personal achievements of a strong farm wife and mother of 5, who lived a life of sacrifiece and hard work, taking joy in the simplest of things. Her second boy was born severely autistic, though that word was unknown back then. Refusing to put him in an institution, as recommended by the doctors, she and the family cared for Uncle John, who remained a grown-up toddler his whole life. I guess I mention that first because that was what struck me the most about her simply faithful life...just her unwavering care for her son in spite of his great disability. She seemed always to be the most patient person.

But she was also one of those people who asked a lot of questions, always listening carefully for your answer and coming forth with a most sensible response, always. She was an avid gardner, who could keep alive even plants which were even unsuited for her garden zone, if she had a mind to help them survive and appreciated their beauty enough. She once brought a tender agapanthas plant from California where she visited us once, and transplanted it next to her house, in a garden blooming with rosebushes and irises, and it was thriving ever after. Who knows how she did that?

Bill also tells how she killed a badger with a fencepost. And he saw her kill a rattle snake with a shovel one summer when he and his siblings were staying out there at the farm. One tough cookie, Grandma Mildred.

A good woman through and through, she ended up with 20 great grandchildren (I think that's right), 10 grandchildren and always had a story to tell them about life on the farm in western NE. She's lived through epic blizzards in a house with no heat or indoor plumbing, in fact she raised her kids there. She taught grade school in town (North Platte) so that her kids could attend Catholic School there. Education was always important to her and her husband Bill, who passed before her in 1997. He was a good man, too. salt of the earth, with a story for everyone, and a sureshot with a shotgun. He was called Pop, after his favorite drink, farmed the homestead as his father before him out in Elsie, where the dirt isn't much better than sand (this was dustbowl territory in the 30s). What a matriarch! Mildred McGahan was buried in the cemetary pictured above, next to her husband William, and son John.

May she enjoy the face of God!

Israel

Folks, I have no idea how I found this. I know this hasn't much to do with art and the usual things I blog about, but hey, it's my blog and I just feel like posting this passage I found tonight. I was looking up words for a small fire engine business my dad is thinking of starting, and I came across this post. In fact the year it is written, 1991, shows that it has been transcribed to the internet, since the first blogs didn't even show up until 1994 or so. But I have been thinking a lot from a Christian American point of view about God's chosen people and somehow found this diary passage on the web ( you know how it goes). It is amazing to read this passage written by an Israeli American in Jerusalem almost 20 years ago, when we were engaged in the war with Iraq (the first time) and I am reminded of the fascinating and disturbing parallels that nature thrusts into our lives through political force: See what you think of this, in light of the short history written since 1991:

"...by writing the previous paragraph of my daughter-
in-law's anger at me; she had looked at some of my reports and, when
she came with her family to dinner on Friday night, she told me that
I was picturing our situation as if we were misfortunates and objects
of pity. She resented that, was convinced it was not true; but she
had been born here in Israel, had only spent a few years in the
States. This was normal for her; not the actual SCUD attacks and
the procedures we follow with each attack - they were new. But
the idea of being under attack, of having to defend herself - that
was part of the turf for her.

Of course she is right. It is just that my background is so
very different; I have spent more than half my life abroad, in the
bosom of decency and democracy. [Not that I do not feel that I now
live in a decent society where democracy prevails; indeed they do,
but their geographic limits are so very narrow. Size really makes
a difference, not only from the point of view of security, but also
psychologically.]

I even left the States before the cities became dangerous at
night. [Other than SCUDDs, which I hope are temporary, the cities
are still quite safe at night here.] I don't feel that I am one of
the downtrodden of the world and I do not want to give that impres-
sion. It is just that as an American [originally, and it seems ir-
revocably] I am always surprised by evil. My initial response is
to deny it; to say it is just not there. I need time to regain my
equilibrium in the face of Evil. I lived through 2 1/2 wars as an
American and this is my fifth here in Israel. I have had enough
experience of the world to ought to have learned; but as an American,
I fear, there are some things I can never really learn.

For Americans the distinction between degrees of bad is a very
difficult one to make. One bad is perceived as just as bad as any
another bad. That appears to be a consequence of the ultimate
optimism of the American. The American can and does still believe
in a perfect or perfectable world. [To that extent, I am no longer
an American.] It was to the Americans that Santayana spoke when he
said that one who does not learn from history is doomed to repeat
the same mistakes.

When I speak to Americans about Evil they do not understand;
they think that bad is the same as Evil. Until they learn - Will
they ever? Can they ever? - they will be trapped by this confusion.
Bush, some of them tell me [I really do not know], is bad. I say to
them, "Maybe or even Yes. But Saddam Hussein is Evil." And they do
not understand me.

There is a world out here that has different guiding principles.
You have to listen; some people are not sportsman and do not play by
the rules.

__Bob Werman
rwerman@hujivms
Jerusalem

Prayers for my country

Freedom, the most precious gift I ever received from my country; and I never had to do anything special to acquire it! I pray that my children will not have tasted freedom just to lose it. I would almost rather they had never known it than to have to answer to them someday why we let it slip away from us.

Regardless of how this election day ends, I can't help feeling deeply sad that the next generation will have to fight (like I never had to) for their liberty.

God has His arms around us, though. I am certain that He only wants us to come to know Him and His creation. From the beginning, God gave us freedom...and we don't need anyone else to either prove or disprove this fact. In the end, politics are not important, except in the way they reveal our character and our choices. No matter who we vote for, we are all on the hook for the outcome.

God Bless the USA.

How I wish this guy was on the ballot!

Minus the antlers. I saw this creation at Maker Faire last weekend. Hope from Austin's Hot Pink Pistol made this dress, one of several "dead presidents" dresses, she said. When I asked, she said her favorite president was Abe Lincoln, in case you were wondering.

Now, my kids run from the room when I get started telling them (again) what a great man George Washington was, so I'd better not start preaching here, but these days we would be wise to learn something from his life -- the difficult days he had, and his strong leadership. Read the book by David McCoullough, 1776. It is the book that got me interested in US history for the first time. Better late than never!

Austin Fiber Artists' Felting Table at MakerFaire '08

A very successful weekend at Maker Faire in Austin last weekend! Our table had long lines all day -- so many people, young and old, were interested in the felting process. It was a great experience and we all had a lot of fun. These events remind me why I love Austin!

The Austin Fiber Artists, along with the Deborah Sharp from Texas Fiber Mill, sponsored a table to show folks how to felt fibers. There were bags and bags of beautiful neutral fibers from sheep, goats, and even dogs, for people to choose from for a felt base. Mary (above) teaches this young woman how to lay out the fibers into a pile, with the fibers in a criss-cross pattern so that they would create a nice dense piece of felt. Then the participant chose some pretty colored bieces and some "bling" (gold threads, pretty yards, nibby bits of loose fibers in all sorts of colors) to top off the creation and make a pretty design.

Sliding the Fibers into the Bag

Mary helps the felter put her finished layered fibers into a bag, carefully laying it out with the pretty stuff on top. The bag will allow for a flattened felted piece. The next step is to wet the fibers with the pre-mixed mixture of shredded dove soap and water -- a gooey, but clean, binder. So what happens next? The water and soap release all the tiney barbs in the natural fibers and cause them to migrate around and re connect with other fibers in a new matted form -- that's felting, in a nutshell (or a baggie), the way I understand it.

Ready to Agitate

All done -- well, almost. The only thing left to do is agitate the fibers inside the bag. Mary McCauly, our felting guru, came up with this ingenious make-and-take idea. After a few minutes of play at our booth table, the newbie felter can walk away with her bag of fibers, all soaked down and soapy and ready to agitate. So we recommended everyone who left our table to walk around Maker Faire and squeeze, knead, roll, twist, slap, or pound her baggie of squishiness until her new piece of felt came together. All that was left to do when she got home was to rinse it and let it air dry. Viola -- Felt!

At the end of the weekend, the AFA table won the Editor's Choice Award! Mary noted, "The project created a lot of excitement: People saw others walking around massaging their bags and wanted one. It became infectious that way. Out of every bag came something wondrous."

Super Power Within

It's been crazy lately! Too busy with work and school, etc. But I managed to finish my Gypsy Challenge Doll last night. It's due in Houston by Oct. 7th. I'll mail it today and hope I don't have to pay a fortune to get it there in time.

We will all need our power within to get us through the next couple of years (or more), I fear. A serious depression? A HUGE government protecting us from ourselves? Bring it on.

A good week

And did I mention that it's the last full week of summer vacation, too? School starts the middle of next week. I'm thinking ahead to the first full week of school (about 10 days from now) and the possibilities are endless. Oh, what I can accomplish in 6 hours! But I digress.

This was a banner week for little Henry, my youngest. In love with a tiny remnant of a scrap of a blanket which is in actuality a twist of threads and knots, he will soon be without the one great love of his short life -- his "blankie". There's something bittersweet about finding clumps and tatters of his once soft and beautiful blanket around the house these days, let me tell you. Henry's my baby, so this loss is just as much a rite of passage for me as for him. Just when this scrappy old thing is starting to really break down, Grandma Ginger (my mother) up and finishes the quilt she started for him when he was born. G.G lives 800 miles away so she sent it through the mail. Last spring when she talked to him on the phone she told Henry she was piecing it together. In June she told him that she had given it to a friend to embroider his name on it, then late last week she told us that it would be coming in the mail, insured, so we had to be home to sign for it, etc. And truly, you never saw a kid so happy with a new quilted blanket than Henry.

I'd have to read up on it, but our Montessori teacher always told us there were three stages to childhood, each 6 years long. So Henry is just finishing up the first third of his childhood. I think it's fitting that he should graduate to a new blanket. Indeed, that's what I'm going to tell my mother, who has felt that nagging personal guilt we all feel when we do so much for the first kid, then slack off for the ones who come later on. This was Mom's 6th "baby" quilt, and it remained merely a good intention until recently when she had some big epiphany about her mortality. I guess she thought she should wrap up some loose ends just in case. By the way, if you could see my beautiful, youthful mother you'd think it was ridiculous perhaps that she sensed decrepitude rapidly approaching but alas, none of us knows the day or the hour, isn't that what they say? In any case, that she would consider her quilt-less grandchild first as she saw her number coming up, truly says something about the kind of woman she is. So in a way, her timing was perfect. It's a milestone for a few of us, here: Henry receives a blanket just as he embarks on a new phase in life (did I mention he starts Kindergarten next week?); Grandma finally can close the door on a project which has been looming large for years; and I can retire what's left of that stringy wad of smelly fibers my son loves so much.

Maybe Henry will willingly help me put it away in his baby box. Now that he's a big guy, you know.

Pretty in Pink

Looks like a cross between Carmen Miranda and Marie Antoinette, she's pretty at least. And she looks sweet on a vanity with perfume bottles and other uber feminine things. OK, there's a little old fashioned lady in me somewhere, I'll admit.

New Doll Close Up

I paid some attention to getting the eyes even after those last couple of doll heads.

I like the light as it falls gently on my messy table here. I still appreciate a well lit workroom. Always will, after working in the dark. The computer's set up now in the room where I used to sew; a windowless room targeted for a darkroom by the previous owners. The "office"/computer room is just one project awaiting our attention (after new floors, after new plumbing fixtures upstairs, after a new roof, etc). And even working in this awful little hovel on my computer reminds me too much of being in a cubicle (I lasted 16 months in that work environment). But at least I don't have to make art here anymore. Luuuuuuuv that.

Paper Detour

I don't scrapbook any more, but I certainly can't help picking up pretty papers when I see them. I have a lot of papers, preprinted, painted, saved from old books, mail, etc. Scrapbooking is what first cracked open my creative side after I had Katie, so I'm fond of the hobby, even if I don't have the time to do it anymore. Actually I could have the time; it's just that once the door was cracked, I pretty much kicked it open and have never looked back. I'd rather try new things than go back and do what I've already done before. So long to scrapbooks.

BUT.

I've been derailed these last few days by a little project in Teesha Moore's Art and Life Zine. I think I mentioned this before, but I've been making these little paper accordion books for journaling in, just to get some different creative juices flowing. Well, several books later I had to go to the store for some different papers and double stick tape. (I was on a roll and couldn't stop myself...I get that way.) I came upon one of those little stacks of pretty card stock with designs on both sides in a small size (for easy matting of a 4x6 photo). It was on sale, so I took it home to play with. Since I can't bear to have to choose one side of the paper I decided to use come fabrics to bind it. Who would have guessed? From there, I couldn't resist adding ribbon, other papers, and more fabrics. I love my beautiful yummy mess of a book. Can't wait to draw/write/paint in it, but I wanted to show it off first. Since these are so much fun to make I may put a few on Etsy soon. There's no way I can use them all.

I'm also putting up some shots of one of the paper books. My studio is an absolute disaster zone, and spreading into the kitchen. Must retreat and re evaluate. Incidentally, the bookmaking did the trick. Heck, yeah, the juices are flowing now! Maybe I can move into a pretty doll in these colors.

Miss Know It All Is Speechless For Once

The new creepy doll here. Someday I'm going to try to make a pretty doll. I promise.

Photographing art is a pain in the butt, quite frankly, but there's nothing to be done about it. Look how bad this doll looks standing in front of stone the same color as her pasty white face. Ick. I'm going to wait till I have a few more dolls made before I drag out the gray background and tape it up on the porch in early morning light. It's a bit of work and doesn't seem practical for just a couple of shots.

Agate Collage

Ever play with Flickr Toys? Sure you can do this with photoshop too but bighugelabs is quick and easy if you've already uploaded to Flickr. Love you, "fd", whoever you are. (Am I the only one who thinks there's some geek out there with the initials fd? Maybe it stands for some acronym I'm supposed to know. If you know, let me know.)

These shots come from the picture of one agate slice, about 7 by 9 inches. I cropped the one shot 9 times in 300x300 pixel increments at various points around the picture. I rotated one of those crops 90 degrees, too. (A dollar if you can tell me which one.) Really, who needs drugs?

What comes to mind when I see a rock like this, broken open to reveal its innards? I think, where did mother nature learn her color theory? I think, how long has this been here, hidden away like this? I think, how long does this take to make? I think, of course, the inside is the best part. And, maybe I should start going around with a hammer.

I bought the kids each their choice of rocks in the gift shop at the TX Natural History Museum today. Here's what they chose:

Katie -- an agate "healing" necklace
Willie -- a minuscule red agate hippopotamus
Henry -- three uncut rock specimens

If your town has a natural hsitory museum I highly recommend a field trip (with or without kids). I brought my sketch book but didn't really have time and the quiet to sketch as I like, but maybe I'll go back one day. I fondly remember sketching at the University of Nebraska's Morrill Hall when I was a student there. That was when they still had laser light shows at night on the weekends ((dark side of the moon, etc.), but I digress. I'm delighted with our museum experience today. We came home and had blueberry snow cones and everyone's tongue turned blue, like witches. A memorable day.

In my studio

I'm pretty much consumed by my headless doll. Scratch that. She has a head, just not attached. Although she's very attached to her head, in a way. You'll see. Soon.

A friend from Jazzercise said this today: "You know all those fancy women who accomplish so much? They say no [to lots of volunteer projects]. Family is more important." I believe in angels (and people who say angels' words) , did I mention that?

Today I'm taking the kids to the natural history museum on the UT campus. They love that place --especially the dark room with all the weird things in jars. Myself, I like the mineral and crystal displays. There must be a rock hound in me somewhere.

I'm posting some pictures of two pretty pink gals from my studio. They're sweet.

Headless Doll in progress

I'm trying something different. This doll took me along for a fun ride. I didn't really plan her, just started needle sculpting the head in a screwey way to see what happened. She's definitely not going to be any kind of pretty, but she's a great experiment because I followed the lead of the head more than ever. I need to costume her as I'm putting her limbs together, which means I had to dye her before she was put together. This doll is teaching me to loosen up a bit. Can't wait to see her finished. It should be soon, since I'm obsessed now. Love it when that happens.

I have my treasure of the Gypsy fabrics and trims hanging in my studio waiting for inspiration. They havn't spoken to me yet. I'm not so keen on the girl-at-the-window idea anymore. I'll just have to wait and see. I hate to just dive in without a plan for that project. Sometimes that's great, but I only have so much fabric to use for the challenge. When it's gone it's gone. I did find a gorgeous broken bracelet whose beads complement the orange and purples beautifully. That's a plus.

I'm off to Jazzercise this morning and have a few things to get to today, including a press release for school. It's already composed in my head, which helps a lot. The kids need school shoes, too. That's an easy one, just a hassle, and not the kind of errand they love to do.

"Unframed" Exhibit

Yesterday was 106 degrees and quite a bit humid. TX is not for wimps. Ruthie and I shook it off and went down to New Braunfels for an exhibit of fiber art by some San Antonio fiber artists/friends.

Let me say something about going to an opening where you know some of the artists. It's a little weird because walking into the gallery is like entering a fabulous candy store/shoe boutique/cathedral/takeyourpick,(whatever really moves you). Here was a collection of beautiful handmade works of art/craft beckoning closer inspection. Dolls hung from walls and stood on pedestals, quilted 3D house-shaped boxes flaunted bright hot colors, silks, dyed and painted, floated down from the ceiling, and garments clothed manikins here and there. My heart literally beat faster and my eyes couldn't stop moving around the room. At the same time here are folks I haven't seen in awhile, so there are hugs and handshakes first. I have to admit, I forget myself and want to dive into the art, but the people and the art go hand in hand. It's so much fun. Next to making stuff myself and with others, I love going to galleries!

I'm posting two pictures, a couple of my favorite things yesterday. Maybe it was the heat, but everything seemed to vibrate with color for me yesterday. The golden doll was made by Linda Rael, just about the sweetest person I've ever met. We met a few years ago at ArtFiberFest in Washington and hit it right off. I feel so lucky that our circles have crossed again. I'm definitely going to get down to SA and play at her studio sometime soon. Her dolls have a tribal feel to them, and she plays with color so happily. I feel I could really learn something about expressing joy in dolls through her. The other picture is a quilt by Susie Monday, whose work has a true TexMex feel to it. There are religious themes and cactus blooms, Mexican and central American vintage textiles, and riotous color throughout her work. It moves me and lifts my spirits when I see it. She is also doing some wonderful 3-D stand alone quilted pieces which satisfy my bent for sculpture and fiber together. I'm a new fan of her work and will follow her with interest. She does workshops at her studio just about monthly, so I anticipate a day of inspiration one of these months in the future.