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.

The Red House Quilt

I've had the red house picture hanging in my studio for over a year now. I love it; something about the strange colors juxtaposed with the red house. It seemed so "quilt-like", and I was waiting for an opportunity to use this idea in a fiber project.

I got my chance last night. I needed to make an 8 x 8-inch "quiltlet" for a round robin I am doing with some ladies from Art Fiber Fest last year. The theme for this one is "inspirational quotes."

As I was puttering around my studio last night I came across the Emily Dickinson line, "I dwell in Possibility- a fairer House than Prose. More numerous for Windows -- Superior -- for Doors." (I can't remember her exact capitalization and dash use, but this is close.) I've always loved this line and it seemed to go with the red house by Russian painter Kazimir Severinovich Malevich, whom I have never heard of, but whose primitive little image made in 1932 I adore. The fact that it is nearly a perfect square helped me make my decision to use it for my contribution to the quilt project. The colors I found from my scrap stash are not perfectly matched, but they are pretty close.

My favorite part of the composition is the pink strip at the bottom.

League Studio

My friend and neighbor Martha League Calhoun is a working artist in Spicewood, TX. Her work includes very large water scenes and abstracts like the one above. Recently, she kindly asked me to display some of my dolls at her place. I brought over a ton of stuff and she managed to find space in her tiny studio at the corner of Bee creek and Highway 71 west of Austin, TX.

I have been long away from the days when I made dolls; it's been almost two years! Some days I almost hope for a small disaster to take them all from me because I can't seem to get rid of them in an elegant way. Art that strangles and haunts is not good anymore.

I can learn a lot from Martha. Here is Martha's style: she has a deep discount sale that says "This is the way it is; if I can't move this stuff I can't make more art...and art is all I do. Please take it off my hands so I can create." I'm paraphrasing; if you want to see what she says about it, visit Martha's website.

I love Martha's style. She is not afraid to abandon what she has done before and try new things. And more importantly she is easy-going about letting go of her work and forge ahead into a new creative stage in her life.

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.