GRRRL Pirates!

Will you look at this gorgeous picture of my niece in her middle school play (in Minnesota) called Capt. Bree! Caroline is the standing pirate on the right -- looking very threatening I must say.

And for all my fabric and fiber friends, check out the costumes!! My very own sister Liz creates these fabulous concoctions for her schools and community theatre. She is amazing!

These productions are massive creative projects, but Liz has been studying theatre from the wings her whole life and really knows her stuff. She is starting a business now using her skills and talents and expert eye.

I can't wait to see what else she has up her sleeve!

Should I Give up the Ribbons?

You would not believe how many ribbons I have. Lucky me.

I'm going through a serious review of stuff. Not just the weekend time-killer of sorting fabric or shuffling pretty paper around. I mean this is an internal calculation involving absolutely no lifting of any kind and boy, it's taking MONTHS! I race through my craft/art room as if it's haunted, on my way to the dark back office where I use my computer and work on email business: MyTeamConnects marketing and customer copy, template design, etc.

This business is what I love to do, and what drives me to do better -- both for myself in creating a successful business and for my customers because they use email marketing to help their businesses succeed too. When others are depending on me, I take that very seriously. When it's just a hobby I enjoy, well, I can let it fall off my radar. That's just how I'm wired. This business is just a natural progression of doing freelance copywriting/emails for other people, so I'm thrilled that I can serve others and connect with other small businesses like mine.

Although email is what I consider my "real" work these days, I'm tempted by some hands-on "play" from time to time, and so I simply cannot dismantle my art room, as much as I know i could beenefit from having a nicer room to do my marketing stuff in.

As long as you own it, your house is there for you to change as you grow and live. When Katie was tired of her pink painted flowery bedroom, we overhauled her room into an elegant teen-aged spa-like retreat, complete with brown walls and bamboo accents and a grown-up looking art print she chose. It's the most peaceful room in the house -- and room to dance, too!

When the kids started using the great room to spread out and play video games, we moved the TV into the smaller and cozier traditional dining room and brought the family dining table into the room off the kitchen so we could lounge and eat meals around the fireplace. Now the TV room is just that: a TV room -- you really don't spend time there unless the TV is on. (Love that.)

I'm a big believer that your house should reflect the way you live and work. That's why I made this room back here into a craft room when I started getting into doll-making, scrapbooking, fiber arts and art-journaling; and all the other fun stuff I used to do. USED TO DO...key point.

This idea of taking apart my art room and spreading my wings with my email business has been pacing around in the corner of my mind for awhile, but I simply cannot make a decision to make the big haul. See, I actually like sewing, and getting paint under my fingernails, and making funny little stuffed things and embroidering words on things, etc. Feeds my soul; always has. But I'm driven to extremes, clean sweeps, new beginnings; and so I'm flirting with having a huge bonfire. Or a van-sized Goodwill dump.

I am beginning to expose this idea to people I care about. I ask, "Should I prove my commitment to my email marketing business by cleaning house and making over my art room into a lovely office? Or will I regret the color, whimsical materials and creative stuff all strewn about; ready for play at any given moment (although those moments are so few and far between anymore...)

Here's a smattering of responses on whether I should dismantle the art room:


Sister: ..."No. Keep it. You never need to go to the store when your kids have to recreate the lost city of Atlantis or build a 1:100 scaled Eiffel Tower for a school project. At least until the kids fly the coop, keep the art supplies and the place to do projects." (Wise mom.)

Husband: Shrug..."If you get rid of it you'll just start buying it all over again." (He knows me so well.)

Biz Partner Sam: "...but I love your creative side. I love art!" (I take that as a no, but then he offers to help re-do the whole room, so you can never tell.)

Kids: ..."if you sell it on Ebay or Etsy, can we help you and then split the profits?"

See? Ambivalence left and right.

The recent fires in Texas started me thinking about all of this in earnest. What if it all went up in flames? Would I even try to save some of my favorite things, or would I grab the kids and the dog, my papers and some pictures; and be out the door?

If given the choice I guess I would like the stuff to go to loving homes. Here are some possibilites:

• There is a group called Austin Creative Reuse which takes art supplies off your hands when you no longer need them.
• I could put the things up on Etsy and have a barn-burner of a sale.
• Photograph stuff I made and keep them in a space-saving digital scrapbook -- then give away or sell most of it.
• Keep one wall of a new office for craft/art supplies and another wall for handmade art -- but only  my favorite things. Make the rest of the space into a functional office.

I am coming closer to making a decision on this; and I realize it's a natural progression from hobby to a business I love that takes increasingly more of my time and energy. It's all good. Maybe if I got rid of just a little bit of stuff I know I'll never use, then I'll be able to concentrate on the projects that I'm certain I want to keep dabbling on...flaxseed neck pillows, soft houses, small quilts, pillows, etc. I could narrow the playing field and still feel like I had some creative options open.

Just yesterday, Katie and her friend Lizzie spent some time at my craft table making pretty ribbon hair clips with my three boxes of ribbons, buttons and silk flowers. I was so happy to see them spend a pleasant hour crafting, talking and giggling about stuff that 13-year-old girls giggle over. They left a delightful mess (and remembered to turn off the glue gun) when they were done. 

Not every house can provide that experience -- a place for teenagers to create and play as if they are little kids again...after all, that's why I like my craft room, too! A predictable home office is just what everyone is expecting. Even though an organized and well-lit desk space is what I need right now, a small part of me needs the creative play too. Maybe if I just tidied up I could have both?

What do you think? Should I make a clean sweep? Start all over? Keep some stuff, but not all of it?

America Saw Evil: My Washington Post contribution, 9/11/2011

When I saw the call for responses to the question, "How has 9/11 changed you?' I dashed off my opinion. It's included in today's Washington Post coverage of 9/11 under the "Age of 9/11" section, separated by ages. I'm in the 32 - 44 section. Here it is: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/special/nation/age-of-9-11/

Before 9/11 I was many things. After 9/11 I am fewer things, but better things.

On 9/11 America saw evil. Unabashed, unapologetic evil. This was a first for me at the time; a housewife, aged 34, pregnant, with a 2-year-old daughter.

I remembered, as a child, seeing a television film about the Holocaust (from which I still remember scenes, though not the title) and I began to understand that the world had witnessed evil in Nazi Germany in WWII and in other times throughout history. I harbored that knowledge, but it was over 20 years later before I felt it viscerally on 9/11.

Later that evening we watched on TV with our neighbors scenes of Palestinian women dancing in the streets over America's blow; the shock and sorrow of our American brothers and sisters; the early desperate hopes for rescue amidst the sinking realization that so much was lost forever -- including the innocence of a generation.

I will never be the same. This evil had names and faces, and a searing image that I now knew personally. To be attacked not for our wrongdoing, but because of who we are (the Jews understood this in Nazi Germany), required newfound strength -- personally and as a nation -- and justified retaliation. Seeing evil demands mighty and resolute goodness of heart and mind; and the fortitude to stand up for what you believe, and for who you are.

I grew up that day. In one day I understood true evil. 9/11 choked away any waffling and untested opinions about relative evils.

Adulthood (and paying taxes, having children, etc.), regardless of history, tends to move a person towards defining one's life, actions, opinions, and beliefs. And 9/11 tinged all those things with the reality of evil. When I was a child I looked away from the television and imagined evil. Now, how perilous it would be to look away, when I KNOW that evil exists and is powerful!

Since 9/11 my husband and I had two more children (that makes 3) and I started a business, which is growing. My identity is incomplete without describing myself as an American.

In spite of evil in all its many forms, the biggest lesson after 10 years: goodness and love always win in the end. And it's not the end yet.

Water Inspires Art

I just spent some time at the gorgeous website of a talented and prolific artist, Mary Edna Fraser, who creates batiks from a aerial photographs she takes from the window of her family's plane. Most of the subjects are rivers and waterways in outrageous colors.     

My friend Martha League-Calhoun also makes paintings featuring water, especially the creeks and streams around West Austin that feed Lake Travis.

So what is it about water? As we were driving south from Omaha to Kansas City, before we were forced to take a detour from Interstate 29  because of the flooding, we saw evidence of the heavy rains in the midwest. Even though you couldn't see much from the road, every glimpse through trees and grass glinted with the reflection of sun on water. Although the crops were ruined, the water attracted wildlife and waterfowl where before there were none. Nature, ever abundantly opportunistic, moved into farm territory with sudden vitality.

Floods, tsunamis, heavy rainfall, rivers, deltas,and oceans all have a mesmerizing and impressive energy. Even when water's effects are damaging to human life and property, it's impossible not to be awestruck by water's power and life.

Some say someday humans will wage wars over water. I hope we can do better than that. Humanity sure does have enough on its plate already these days. But if it ever happens, imagine the art we will make.

The drought in Texas is severe. I'm not sure if the scarcity of water here makes it more achingly beautiful in my eyes, but the thought of having to fight for the right to water tinges that beauty with something a little sinister.

Sending up a prayer for water...

"Tall Painting" Appeal is Hypnotic Precision and Unpredictability

You're getting sleepy...very, very sleepy. I wish. At 2:54 I cannot sleep.

Just a couple of months ago I was boasting to a friend about how I slept like the dead, now here I am these days (nights) up in the dark, reading, surfing the Internet, or sketching. Serves me right, but at least I was correct to appreciate a good night's sleep while it was mine.

How I found this mesmerizing video: Reading The Comeback by Emma Gilbey Keller, about women who set down their careers for a while to raise children, then pick up again later. (A la "You really CAN have it all; just not all at once.") One of the women interviewed for the book was Maxine Snider, a furniture designer, whose life (at least as described in the book) seems quite perfect. From the descriptions of her childhood, her home office in the late 70's, her successful daughters, art-savvy lawyer/photographer husband and their travels together; who wouldn't want to peek at her furniture line and website to see the public material results? For sale to the trade.

That's what I love about design, all of it: furniture, architecture, graphic design. I even delight in those fat reference books on color, filled with endless chiplets of it, arranged in tables of cascading shades and hues; and all sorts of delicious combinations. Everything about the design world -- and the people who inhabit it -- seems just, well, too perfect. Coincidentally I'm also reading a book about small dwellings in which the author refers to shelter magazines as "housewife porn," which shames me into admitting my guilt in that regard.

But art is a little different, isn't it? It's messy, for one thing. Enter the Maxine Snider blog for the insomniac's delectation.

Holton Rower's Tall Painting video is a little bit of both art and design. Organized, unpredictably precise messiness.

We all know that when you pour paint over a box it will flow down; that old gravity thing. We know, after some experimentation, when the paint is "set" enough to hold another color without mixing and becoming muddy. So we know in a sense what to expect.

And yet to watch the painting being made -- the succession of color and the lines the paint forms as it flows -- is a surprise possibly more pleasing than the finished result.

Somehow I guess that's the point. I knew if I wrote it down I would find the end of this thread so I could sleep again...

It's the process. 

Perhaps Ms. Snider would not have become a furniture designer if she hadn't stopped working to raise her kids. Perhaps she might not have begun painting and drawing in that lull women feel when the kids grow up and begin to not need Mom quite so much. Perhaps she'd have stayed in her first career (commercial interior design) forever if not for those years at home.

Although I'd have preferred eight straight hours of z's, I probably would have missed this video, and possibly a tiny moment in my evolution. (Don't think for a moment it doesn't embarrass me to say "my evolution," but it is almost 4:00 am.) Maybe this indulgence was a fair trade for sleep.

From the Roadside to the Table

This is Roger -- well known purveyor of tomatoes and peaches on Highway 71 just west of Bee Cave. He's usually there every day between around 9 and 4 or 5 (I guess whenever he runs out of produce, or gets bored or hot.)

I can get 7 nice tomatoes or peaches for 5 dollars. Let me tell you, it's a bargain compared to the grocery store!

If you've never eaten a tomato or peach still warm from the heat of summer and never exposed to air conditioning, then you haven't lived, I'm sorry to say.

I photographed the gorgeous fuzzy oranges and yellows and that tomato-y sheen on my shady back porch and then proceeded to make lunch.

As I was chowing down on the tasty salad and reading a library book, it occurred to me to stop and enjoy every blessed bite.

I put the book aside and delighted in the taste of SUMMER.

An interesting Hill Country Rock

If you're always looking down when you're outside, it might not mean you're depressed; it could just mean that you are a rock hound like me. I runs in the family. In the ten years we've lived here our pile of interesting rocks, fossils, arrowheads and other finds has grown into an impressive cache of natural history. Now that we have the new hill in Kingsland to explore, I'm sure we'll be adding to it in future years.

The kids found this rock last weekend and they are sure it's a dinosaur egg (dino do?) fossil. The cracks are unusual. While it is a gray boring rock color, its cracks make it unlike any rock we've ever found around here..."Here" being the Hill Country of Texas.

I told them that I'd take them over to the Natural History Museum on the UT campus to have someone looks at it and tell us more. We've done that before with interesting stuff we've found outdoors and the woman we spoke to in the basement level was very agreeable to explaining what she thought our find was (and what it wasn't). Usually stuff turns out to be way more mundane than we imagined.

The color is wrong, by the way. I played with the picture in photoshop and illustrator before posting it here. If you have any ideas about this rock, I'd sure like to know what it is. I'll tell you when we know.

Big Changes

A couple of days ago I finished a small quilted thing that I started in 2005.

Six years ago at my first art retreat I had signed up for a class with a noted calligrapher who painted/wrote on fabric and incorporated it into her art...Lisa Engelbrecht. I was new to creating (anything) and wanted to say so much with this little calligraphic piece.

Do you ever have the same high hopes for a course you want to take?

I read the outline of the day-long class, decided on a theme, found materials and fabrics that supported my vision (I think mine had to do with gardening) and I anticipated this class with great expectations.

While I really enjoyed the day, learned a lot about paint and fabric, was enchanted with Lisa's sweet nature...the work I meant to produce that day never took shape. I still have a few really lovely pieces of muslin with gorgeous swoops of paint and writing on them, but in six years I never did a thing with them.

Until last week.

(Oh, I know I should be working! I've started a new business that needs all of my spare time and then some.)

But I have been feeling the call of creativity that my email business isn't quite fulfilling. So last week I tidied up my craft room and found a project to finish; since I have so many of those!

I've always said it's the projects that are half-finished that will quickly get your creative juices going again. But now I've proved that there is a shelf life to every project. Sometimes you have to move on.

This is one of those projects. While I like certain pieces of this little quilt, it's not who I am. Anymore. If ever. Weird.

The original quote stated something like "[Nature still does the same old thing it always did], it is only I who have changed." A common theme, right? in nature poetry. I'm reading the poems of Mary Oliver these days; that must be why I wanted to resurrect this thing. And so it goes.

But my foray back into art fell flat, I think. I don't like the colors, the layout, etc. It seems so studied and strained. It doesn't sing. Well, why should it? That's where I am, too -- not singing.

Last night I had that old urge to create again. (Two times in one week makes me think something's a-brewin'.) Then I went to my craft room and picked and pulled at a few painted journal pages (from long ago) and made myself frustrated all over again. How can I want this so much and yet feel that there is nothing there? So I went to bed, grabbing a few art-zines from my ancient stash as I went. I snuggled in and read.

Some of the zines were published by Teesha Moore, a woman who lives her art if I've ever met one. The first issue of Art and Life (yeah, in fact that's the name of her series from oh, 2007/08 or so) is full of inspiration about being true to your creative instinct. I re-read it and felt like I could do anything I set my mind (instinct, rather) on.

Well, maybe I'm going to create something here soon. Maybe I'm going to write. I don't know.

All I know is I am a completely different person from 6 years ago. So much has changed. My kids, my country, my marriage, my prayer life, my friendships, my schools, my neighborhood... and me.

Maybe the person inside this skin wants to create in a different way from the way I wanted to create 6 years ago. It wouldn't surprise me.

Life: bring it on. I'm ready for anything.

Incidentally, if you need an email service with your own personalized artistic template for your newsletters -- visit www.MyTeamConnects.com. You can sign up for a weekly newsletter about small biz email marketing and learn about what you can do to promote your art business. (Furthermore, I'm a sympathetic artist; can you tell?) I'd love to work with you.

Stuffed Pepperdews

Happy Fourth of July!

Last night one of my new dance mom/friends hosted a cocktail hour with both moms and daughters from Katie's dance team. We spent last weekend getting to know each other at Starbound Nationals Competition and we were all missing our new friends, so we got together for appetizers and a swim.

Walking around HEB earlier yesterday afternoon, I spotted these pretty red/orange pepperdews at the olive bar. They were marinating in some sort of sweet pickling juice and the little sign said they'd be good stuffed with cream cheese. So I came up with this recipe:

Cheese Stuffed Pepperdews
Ingredients
24 pepperdews, hollowed out
24 toothpicks
1 brick of lowfat cream cheese
3 golf ball-sized balls of fresh mozzarella cheese
chopped green onions

Using a hand blender, blend the cheeses together.
Scoop whipped cheese into a plastic zip lock bag and cut a corner to pipe out the cheese.
Fill hollow pepperdews with cheese.
Skewer each pepperdew with one toothpick and place on baking sheet.
Broil for about 2 minutes, watching carefully.
Place on serving plate and sprinkle onions over the tops.

Serve with baguette crackers if you want to:
Slice baguette into half-inch slices and place on baking sheet.
Spray bread slices with olive oil cooking spray or brush with olive oil; sprinkle with a little salt.
Broil for about 30 seconds, watching carefully.

If you serve them on a blue plate you will have a red, white and blue appetizer to bring to a party. These were delish; I came home with an empty plate. Having plenty of cheese left, today I bought jalapenos and will stuff them with the leftover cheese and wrap with bacon. Can't wait.

New Construction Inspires A New Wool House

We have a new neighbor building a house across the street from us. After one or two false starts over the years by previous owners of this challenging lot, Tom finally got it right. Our neighborhood has building guidelines which include a 100-ft easement from the street because our lots are large and everyone likes the country feel (even if we are 30 minutes from downtown). The lot across the street is tough; approximately level from the street to about 75 feet back, then a good drop-off. That's "hill country" for you. My hat is off to our good new neighbor Tom, who designed a lovely home happily nestled into the hillside, while amicably facing our direction. I'm delighted with the new addition to our little hood. It is even an improvement over the cedar-clogged view we used to have!

Maybe that's why I was inspired over Thanksgiving break to finish this little wool house that I've had constructed but unadorned in my sewing room for months. If I thought it were Tom's style I'd give it to him in a heartbeat. But clearly it's not! I think I'll put it over at Martha's League Studio Gallery and see if she can sell it at her open house this weekend.

Now we need to think about decking our own halls for Christmas!

Another Bird in Flight

Long ago, I signed up for an inkjet transfer group with Yahoo Groups. At the time I believe it was moderated by Lesley Riley who has used transfers a lot in her fibert art and whose class I took many years ago. Every now and then I get an email from Yahoo with some new pics. This is one I like by someone who frequently posts pics in an album called Marianne K's transfers. A bird in flight; get it? This artist's work is beautiful...even the thumbnails I receive in emails are usually enticing enough for me to open them. I don't know who she or he is because her profile is private, but I always enjoy looking!

On that note, I think about all the stuff I have here on the internet. At some point I just decided, heck, if I tell the truth and use some discretion, then I don't mind sharing online. Since then, I've shared a lot of thoughts and opinions, some of it conflicting, but that's how it is! An open book many times, I still keep a lot to myself. I do understand why someone would like to post pictures of art, but no personal info, like that Yahoo gal/guy. The art, which seems personal, stands on its own. No identifier needed.

Room Dividers Could Rescue this Office

I'll admit I am lucky. I have a space of about 20 x 10 feet to work and play. Divided into two equal rooms by a door, I use the bright side for fiber art. (The picture doesn't look bright because it's night.) The dark side is truly dark; it was designed to be a dark room, fitted with pipes for a sink and everything. I use that for my office/writing space and more art supply storage. Not very inspiring, I can tell you.

Aside from the frequent visitor of the feline sort, practically everyone else in the family stays far away. This could be because when the children were younger, I came in here to be alone, to listen to music, or just get some quiet time, but mainly to play and make something. The kids are trained to stay out, and really, not much interests them in here anyway. Bill has no interest whatsoever what I do in here, so I've never even been asked to share it. Realistically, this space is so unwelcoming, who'd want to be here?

Trying to make this a better place to spend time is important because my other (non-art) writing business is beginning to keep me busy and there's really no reason not to enjoy where I'm working since I have the room. I have 200 square feet of office/creative space and I tend to bring my computer out to the dining room or kitchen to work; how silly is that?

These lovely closet doors and room dividers are from The Sliding Door Company (top pic) Closing off one end of the room for closet space would allow me to hide the craft and sewing supplies. Keep it all going or cut way back; that is the question.

I've been thinking of scaling back my art&craft hobbies anyway. Lately I find I want to just get rid of stuff and lighten up. That includes art supplies and fabric (what is this new feeling?), for my eyes are not what they used to be and I just don't have the bug to create,create,create every day like I used to.

Weird thing is, my appreciation of the fiber arts is as alive as ever; I just don't have the burning desire to sit down and make something. I can read about others' creations and collect craft supplies and fabric all day long, though. The fire didn't totally burn out, it just moved over or something.

Sometimes I hope it comes back. If not, it's okay. Life moves on (like the shadow of a bird in flight), right?

Meanwhile I'm cleaning up and out. I'm thinking of making Sweetboo.com (my old website) into a craft supply site. That could be fun if I only had some extra time. Wonder if all my craft supplies are really just me wishing for more time...This thought just occurred to me. Shazam! Must be something I need to pray on/contemplate. What a silly and indulgent little life I lead...sheesh..."Mortality" just took a second look my way. It probably is time to move on.

Any Idiot Can Make a Log Cabin Quilt....

Them's fightin' words.



Mark Lipinski's blog from Pickle Road is a hoot. I found him from a local quilt store's review of a new thread called Aurifil, which I Googled. I guess I'm a curious enough crafter to want to know why a thread is so special; I mean, how can you improve on thread? Well, this Mark Lipinski did a video from a quilt show raving about this thread in such an entertaining manner, that I just had to check out his website.

If you watch the review of the book above, you'll hear the challenge, "Any idiot can make a Log Cabin quilt..."

Oh, really? This idiot just may try it one day.

A Great Trade!

Check out the trade I made last week! A sculptor of faces [Diane Briegleb] commented on one of my box dolls and I offered to send it to her. She agreed to send me a face or two in return. And look what she sent me!

Here's what she wrote:

"I am an old woman of 75 years and I have done my faces for at least 30 years...I have been inspired by all the wonderful things people have done with her. Your piece really touched me as over the years there have been times when I have felt like I was in a room with no dorrs or no windows. And so your lovely doll really struck a note with me. I hope my pieces will bring inspiration. I am happy to be part of such creativity that I have seen over the years, and I am bonded to each thing that others do."

So now I will need to step up my efforts and make a doll or two that are worthy of such fine craftsmanship as Diane's faces. What an honor!

Patience or Mania?

What does it take to stitch a photo like this?

Jill Draper, whose photo-realistic stitched tapestries I viewed with awe on telegraph.co.uk, says that she stitches on her machine at such a manic pace that she gets headaches. She works on a few square inches at a time, carefully following a photograph. Then she hand stitches final details.

I believe that it takes a great reserve of patience to even undertake such a project, but I can understand the crazy manic type of work required to make headway with such small details. It's a mind-boggling process, to work on something so large in scale compared to the infinitesimal gestures needed to complete even a small portion of it. A few years ago I hand stitched a self portrait with DMC embroidery threads and was astonished at the speed required to keep my mind in the game. On top of that there is the mental concentration involved in keeping track of the slight variations in color needed to shade and add contours to the image.

That type of work, I imagine (I have never done work like that on a machine) has to be something like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time -- times one hundred. While you furiously stitch with eyes focused and bright light shining on such a tiny section of the embroidered painting, you are trying to fly over the whole scene from high above with a part of your mind that can envision the end result. That has to be a mind bender!

Kudos to this Jill Draper. She is 62 years old. I hope my brain is as able to round up the intricacies required by my craft in 20 years!

The Aesthetics of Joy Blog

I read a blog called the Aesthetics of Joy, by Ingrid Fetell. Great stuff. Here is a video she talks about in one of her recent blog posts. It will eventually be a book, which I hope to buy, but for now I enjoy reading her ongoing revelations. She's kind of brainy, and uses BIG WORDS, in an art historian kind of way, and she is delightful.

Do you ever see something that just makes your heart sing? She is studying the common, quirky, unexpected things that for whatever rhyme or reason make us smile (or gasp, or blink, or gape in a good way). Think dancing, wildflowers, toys, bright pink dyed hair...

She also looks at the large sweeping artistic monuments and gestures which transport us, as the artist or architect (or God) intends them to. Think cathedrals, the Grand Canyon...

Fetell asks tough questions, too. I remember one blog post (featuring a picture of Charles Manson) pondering if evil-doers feel joy when they commit their atrocities, and if that could rightly be called "joy?" Ick.

I like to read about art, but sometimes art history seems a little pedantic. That's why I like this take on design and "joy." The subject matter itself is light-hearted, but down-to-earth, even while the discussion of it is at times challenging. Anyway, Aesthetics of Joy is worth checking out.

By the way, I like Sr. Wendy, too, but I've never read any discussions about street art from her...only classical art. Contrasting Ingrid Fetell to Sr. Wendy automatically comes to mind because while Sr. Wendy exudes her appreciation and love of the art she describes, the joy Ms. Fetell writes about seems to be somehow missing from her poin of view. An academic approach to what makes humans feel joyful is a very interesting topic indeed when written in an objective and discerning voice, which is how Aesthetics reads. She is certainly passionate about her subject, though; that comes through. When you think about it, it's a tough subject.

Most of the other art/design blogs I read are all breathless with love, love, love for their artistic discoveries; a whole lotta sugar, which I don't seem to naturally possess. That is why I read them, probably. I am a voyeur of "pretty" things, but the stuff that really brings me joy are tinged with something a bit wry at the end of the day. I laugh at the wrong places in movies, too, a personal characteristic which is only now at this late age beginning to embarrass me.

Historians and students who love art, design, or craft -- and can write well about it -- are precious.

Be-Dazzling the Piano (and other serious concerns)

The piano, this morning...No, I didn't do it (husband would put me in an institution), but I wanted to!

While watching Twilight with the kids last night I started an article for a scrapbooking website I periodically work for. In the midst of hunting around online for creative fodder, I found myself inside some great websites I haven't visited in awhile: Flickr, some paper arts sites, art blogs, etc. The process of writing the article while watching the movie got me thinking about a few issues closer to home:

1. Would my favorite opaque white gel pen ink take to the piano's glossy finish? How many barrels of plastic red monkeys would it take to cover the piano? Has my favorite gel pen dried out since I last used it?
2. Wonder when I'll be getting my next art quilt block for the round robin I'm involved with? (It's the only creative project I have going, and it seems to be slow-going, unfortunately.)
3. When the movie's over I'm going to have to put in my two cents worth with my kids regarding not only Team Jacob/Team Edward (gotta go with Jacob), but also on the soul belonging, finally, to God -- not theirs or anyone else's for the selling and/or trading. I know, I'm the one who agreed to the PG-13 movie, and now I will pay.
   

Of course at least the two older kids will roll their eyes and say how it's just a movie, and it's not real, and "Mom, why can't you just have fun and not be so serious about stuff," etc. My response being, "Who me? I'm the mom who would glue monkeys to the piano, if the family would let me...Who's serious?" But by then, I'll have already put the stick in the mud.

I wonder if anyone can relate? We moms think we're pretty fun, don't we? I know for a fact that kids broaden my sense of humor, which must mean necessarily that I have lost some sort of edge. Any world sophistication drops way off when I listen to middle schoolers talking away in the back seat of the van, oblivious to mom ears. It amazes me, by the way, that they don't realize that the chauffeur is listening (at least some of the time). And sometimes, it's actually entertaining. When I jump in with a bit of my own, the car goes silent for a beat. Then one of them says, "yeah, mom." and like a switch, the conversation magicaly enlivens again.

I watch movies like Twilight and make jokes about Jacob's chronic shirtlessness (kids go "sshhh!") and I realize that mom-funny is a lonely kind of funny, because the regular audience is always 30 years younger and they don't appreciate the jokes. They also take these types of movies very seriously. In any case, while I'm cracking fun at vampires (no one says "cracking fun;" I do realize this), I'm also mourning the loss of my creative outlets, which is my own fault completely, and thinking about how and when I'm going to volunteer my parental obligatory comments about some of the behaviors and themes in this silly movie.

There are the easy ones, interjected briefly: "You DO know never to get on a motorcycle with a stranger. In fact, don't get on a motorcycle, period." Then there are the ones that hopefully cause a little healthy mental interruption: " Maybe Bella should volunteer at an old folks' home or something."

Still, at the end of the movie, there are those remaining open-ended ideas that take more time, gentle revisiting over the course of a few days, like the soul stuff. One more thing to squeeze into a busy day, but crucial. I make a mental note: Don't make a huge discussion out of it, just turn the idea over a time or two.

My kids are coming into the age where I can't shelter them from stuff I disagree with. Nor the stuff I don't believe in. I don't want to, either. I'm not anti-supernatural, or prudish about monsters and magic and but Whew, pop culture keeps me on my toes!

And all I wanted to do last night was kick back, watch a teen movie, look at art blogs online, and imagine monkeys and crystals encrusting the piano...

Bali 1977

Bali 1977, originally uploaded by Mistifarang - el primero Unico de l'Escala.

I found this picture on Flickr. From Mistifarang - el primero Unico de l'Escala. Imagine.

My "Chops"

Ok, they're called Tjaps.

I don't even know if mine are from Indonesia, as the copper ones are. I got them in an antique store, but I don't know how old these are. I'm guessing people still use and design with these overseas. Not everything is made in a factory, of course.

These wooden handheld implements are wonderful and artistic in themselves. When I use them (which I will later on tonight), I pray for the hands that made and used them originally.

What a connection we have on this small planet!

Copper Tjaps are Hot Hot Hot.

A shipment came and went again.

I watch these things with curiosity and always take a look when they come up for sale at Dharma Trading Company. They send me an email whenever they get a shipment of these beautiful design tools and, just as they promise, these Tjaps from Indonesia do go fast -- within 24 hours the entire shipment of 300 have flown out the door. Vamoose.

One of these years I will jump in there and get myself a couple. In the meantime, I do have some wooden ones that I purchased at an antique store. I've used them on paper and fabric, sometimes with very nice effects. But the disadvantage of wood is, of course, that wood gets broken, so some of mine have irregularities that might drive the fiber art perfectionista a little crazy. I don't really mind since I use them for texture more than anything else. A couple of my wood ones also have a felted material sort of squished up between the actual wood carvings; I suppose to soak up excess dye (?).

These copper ones would be wonderful to play with. Batik artists seem to have the corner of these for their craft, but you could use them for all sorts of things. If you want to try them out you have to get on the Dharma email list or their Facebook page and have them alert you when they get their next shipment.

As usual, summer gets my creative juices flowing; I don't know why that is...more free time, more ideas for things to do. Lately (sadly) I'm more inspired to look at art than to actually try to create anything. A whole 'nother thing entirely, but just as satisfying in some ways.