Where Was I Again? Oh Yeah....

Created on: 11/1, 2008 at 01:53 pm

I've always wondered what goes on in the lives of faithful bloggers when all of a sudden, one day, they just go silent. Death? Alien abduction? Gainful employment? In my case it was a screaming episode of Iritis with consentual photophobia. This translates into one red nasty eyeball that won't open and one regular eyeball that, even though there's nothing wrong with IT, it still can't stand the light. Aw, man, it was filthy. Really disgusting.

Unfortunately, it also caused me to relapse into not doing art everyday and even when I did start again, to not document it. But with the changing of the Cool-abberation dolls, it seemed like a good time to get back into the blog.

Without further ado....

This is Precious, owned by Roslind of Japan.

She came with a body and a wonderful cape of wings to which her arms are attached.

She then went to Jutta in Australia who added hair and eyes, plus a bit of lace trim around the collar.

When I first took her out of the box I was really interested in her body fabric. I seem to remember Roslind saying that she'd cannibalized a kimono. (You'll have to correct me if this is wrong, Roslind.) I love silk but I'm really rough on my clothes. Therefore I don't buy a lot of silk clothing. I hate putting on silk in the morning because I want the feel of it and later in the day ending up playing in the woods and ripping it. Or worse, not playing in the woods because my clothing isn't up to it. A kimono is really a big deal, or so it seems to me. I can't imagine living in one like most people live in jeans. But then again most people who wear (or wore) a kimono every day didn't do much forest dwelling. Anyway, when I got Precious I was on a knitting kick but didn't want to start a huge project for myself or one of the girls. These little sweaters were just right.

I love doing random crochet. No rhyme or reason, no set length of the strand, using a bundle of three and tying on one line at a time when the strand runs out- the variated result is perfect. This sweater was a blast to make. The fibers came from Anne Niles Davenport's studio, thanks Anne, and the inspiration to crochet this one came from Esther James; two good and creative friends who probably don't know each other but who got this sweater going inside my brain.

I have to admit, even though this was the last sweater to be completed, it was the first one I was planning. I made some sweet little clogs for Thea and did Precious' at the same time. The fantastic green jogged my memory of some lovely wool yarn that I picked up last fall for one of the kids to have a hat or something. Since I wanted this work to have a PNW feel, I connected this sweater with the view from above the trees. All green, baby!

I did and redid this sweater three times trying to get it right. I have Anne again to thank for the way this one turned out. She told me about a new beading technique that lets the beads lie up and down instead of on their sides. Much better. If I hadn't come upon that tip I wouldn't have included this sweater with the set.

I did a lot of reading about harajuku culture in Japan in the days before conceiving this idea. I was sorting out "crappy" pony beads from a mixed bag of glass beads I'd gotten and these reminded me of candy. These aren't just ordinary pony beads. They have glitter and that's what mesmerized my magpie brain. I faced my prejudice against plastic beads to do this one. I'm glad I did. I really like it. I hope Roslind will too.

When Precious arrived, her cloak was held on by two pins. Blech. I couldn't let that go out the door. I banged out a hook and eye clasp from copper, my first metal work in ages. Incidentally, it was the inaugural use of my new anvil, a much loved gift from Jerry Wenstrom.

Precious is the first doll I have been late shooing out the door. Hopefully she will be the last.

I was royally intimidated by the journaling aspect of this project until I realized that it's only scrap booking on steroids. the only problem- I hate scrap booking. Having been born and raised in The Land Of Zion, and having thusly escaped at my first opportunity, anything that reminds me of dowdy women tamed to within an inch of their lives with only enough creativity to document the doings of their family frightens me to death. I always viewed it as talentless fodder done by empty women who would rather hold a glue stick than a needle. It's a skill that can be done by the most brainless, information chucking, experience dodging homebody. (Can you tell that I'm still a little edgy from growing up there?) Needless to say, I had to expose to the light the festering part of me that feels that way. And I had to admit that there are bright and creative women who love scrapbooking and that I shouldn't condemn the entire art form based on the women I met in a small town who did it. And besides, even if those soulless, dried out, small minded drones did it because it was all they could do... at least they were trying.

If you do scrapbooking and you love it and you're still reading... I hope you're not from my hometown. Heh heh. This is page one of four. I acquired a watercolor kit for this project and it is literally the first time I have used watercolor in 30 years.

This is my rendition of Precious on her journey.

I'm really pleased by how this came out. I tried a million things for the hair before I settled on wool.

I think this was a good idea that went lame. I love the whole blossoming heart thing, but it's not as polished as I had pictured it.

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A Day of Receiving

Created on: 8/16, 2008 at 08:47 pm

We started out today with the intention of getting to the library, returning our rented movie, but most of all, getting our over-cooked carcases out of this metal box of a house.

We slowly picked our way up the road, enjoying one another's company. It was hot but the breeze did its job of making the weather tolerable. We've been spoiled. It's been cloudy and wet most of the summer. The down side is that the roadside berries (as well as garden tomatoes) aren't ripening up. The upside is that I've been nice and comfortable- a good thing.

But today it was hot, filthy hot. Dressing the kids was a challenge. It was like trying to shoehorn them into clothes after pulling them from a shower. They, like DH and I, are sweaty, hot and grumpy.

Heading up the hill, we decided to hit the library first. The breeze was rejuvenating. On the way home, we figured, we could use the rest, shade and cold drinks the store would provide after we rammed the DVD case home into the slot. On the way to the library, however, lives a friend of mine, and her car (which usually isn't) was in her driveway. What a perfect time to give her that thing I've been trying to get to her.

This is the first time I've been to her house. She has a dog who would rather chew your face off than not. That's fine. If I were a single lady, I'd want one of those too! I stood out in her driveway and hollered at her until she came to the door. I can never remember how long her dog's lead is.

She was so happy to see us on a boring, baking Saturday afternoon that she invited us in to see her garden. Once out there, she proceeded to snip and chop into a grocery bag until it was full of produce. Then she started all over again. Two hours later, we left with potatoes, garlic, green beans, peas, oregano, parsley, lettuce, kale, beets, raspberries, blueberries, logan berries and a crab. And no, she didn't grow the crab herself.

Actually it came from her neighbors. I've seen them in their huge and lovely boat many a time cleaning their crab catch at the beach spigot. I don't know how they do it, but they always come in with more than an arm full. Lucky bastards.

So, thank you Curly. Your garden repast is going to be excellent and I appreciate it very much! We stayed to bullshit for almost two hours and- dammit- I missed the Library by 10 minutes. Oh well. Monday will come soon.

On the way back home, DD2 was absolutely having a howl. It was maybe an hour past nap time and she was frantic with it, throwing the kind of epic fit that only a 3YO can. She screamed at the top of her voice, that purple-vein-in-the-neck scream, for about 2 blocks. When we rounded the corner past our neighbor Ruth's house, Ruth came out to greet us. "I could hear you clear up the street", she told DD2.

In hand, she had two little gifts for the girls. For DD1 there was an awesome little journal with a baby sized pencil inside. For DD2 there was a little basket to collect treasures in. "Oh, but wait, she said. "I have something for Mom too."

Inside a little bag was a pretty scarf that will look great in my hair. And then there was this absolute treasure...

I really do think this is from the late 1800's. It's some sort of decorative collar. Ruth said she bought it for the fringe along the edges, which she removed. She knows I'm crafty that way, so she gave me what's left of it.

The inside is just in tatters. The silk lining was shredding under my gentle touch. But the stitching is amazing as is the outside fabric. Somebody, a very long time ago, was all that and a bag of chips in this collar.

I'm going to rescue the beads from it. I'm feeling like its sacrilegious to even do that. This little piece of kit has outlived anyone who was alive at its debut. And I'm going to disassemble it, tossing the fabric aside. I hope that maybe there's enough life in it yet to make something of it. Can you imagine this ancient relic forming the body of a doll? Man, that would hold some serious energy!

Thank you Ruth, for this treasure as well as the other things you sent my way this evening!

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I miss my Timmie!

Created on: 8/15, 2008 at 06:33 pm

I am very, very lucky. I have this friend, Timmie, whom I love. She's not like a friend. She's more like a sister. She absolutely positively rocks and there isn't anyone I can remember having as a friend whom I have been so sorry to lose. About 6 months ago, she followed her husband's job to Connecticut. So even though I know I'm lucky, I'm absolutely heartbroken that we were only able to roll together for 4 years. We used to have this Friday ritual, stopping for coffee before making the 45 minute drive north to the less expensive grocery stores. We'd have lunch, peruse Wal-Mart which we dubbed "The Wart", hit Home Depot which we lovingly referred to as "Home Despot", maybe trundle through the dollar store and then head home with our tired children. I never got tired of seeing Timmie. No one could break me out of a funk like she could. No one could reminisce about (and occasionally bash) the part of the world we grew up in like she could. I mean, c'mon, you'd have to have grown up in that surreal area to know. You know how it looked in Napoleon Dynamite? Well, that's just how it is. That whole thing was filmed within a 50 mile radius of my birthplace. Scary. And Timmie and I ripped the place up regularly with our acid tongues. Well, today I had a Chai Latte for her- the drink she always got instead of coffee which to her tasted like warm dirt. I miss you, Timmie, in just about a million ways. I wish we were closer, but I'm glad we're still in touch.

I do a lot of beading outside, sometimes in wild places with lots of creeping vines or comfy sand. I also have the habit of mixing all the beads I need for a project "rez style". I noticed this seed in with the beads about a week ago. I don't know where it came from or when it arrived. I don't even know what plant it spawned from. But I like it. It's glossy and warm. It's become my beading pal and I'm always glad to see it. I like to think it's a good luck charm, maybe bestowed upon me by the fairies of the universe.

So after I lost all those beads for Thea's dress, and borrowed more from Larkin, I had to do some repair work so the new beads didn't look like an afterthought, or worse, like I ran out and begged some off my neighbor. I decided to somehow incorporate them into the original twist but I didn't quite know how to do it. I followed my gut and ended up just filling the holes left by the other two strands twining around each other. It couldn't have worked out better! It's gorgeous. The darker red down under there gives it more depth and dimension than I could have even dreamed otherwise. Sweet!

I decided to do a little coraling on the hem where the twisted strands and the wreath effect meet to cover up the naked spot. I like it.

So here she is. I anticipate that I'll have the back of the dress done this weekend and then I will decide if I want to put the puff sleeves on her or not. I think I've figured out just how to do it.

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Step One Almost Done

Created on: 8/11, 2008 at 11:23 pm

Today's art was beading, beading and more beading. Actually yesterday's art was beading. Today's art was putting the trim around the inside of Thea's hem. I love how things work out. DH has gotten another order for a bag. What color? Purple. Lovely lilac-y lavender-y purple. Do I have purple silk in my stash? No. Of course not.

Our local thrift store, however, is a perfect source for these little things; a snagged silk shirt here, a perforated wool jumper there, linen trousers with a stain on the leg that you know will never in a million years come out. We decided on a Sunday afternoon to head over there. But first one thing happened and then another and before we knew it, it was 3:30. The shop closes at 4 on Sunday. We even looked on the website to make sure.

I think you'd have to know the town of Freeland, indeed the entire Island mentality, to understand that it's not a big deal that we don't have a car. Our town is quite small with the grocery, post office and library being all within a 15 minute walk of my house. I don't think I could live without a car if I lived on the other side of the harbor where my friend T used to live. It would be more than a mile into town. But right here, on the edge of town proper, I do just fine on foot. We also have free transit. Wanna go somewhere on the island? Just hop the bus! There's no collection box. They don't even want a donation. Just get on and ride. It's all good!

But here we are on this particular Sunday afternoon realizing that we have half an hour before they flick the lock and the kids aren't even dressed yet. I've never seen us mobilize so fast. DH tossed DD2 into the packababy on my back and I slammed out of the house while DH finished getting the shoes on DD1. They caught up to me two blocks out and we power-walked up the hill to the thrift.

Once inside, I'm relieved that they haven't started counting the till early. I've got about 5 minutes to find the perfect thing. We do a whirlwind search, deciding on a blue silk blouse. We can add some red dye and get the color we're after. Ampy, the very friendly manager, asks why we're in such a hurry. They don't close until 5.

What? Five? As in an hour from now? Uh-huh. You don't say.

We started breathing again and decided to take our time, looking thoroughly for just the right thing. And we did find it! Beautiful royal purple pants- thick and soft; that fluffy feeling silk. Nice!

With time to kill, I meandered over to the trims. Perhaps there is something that will come in handy for the Cool-Aberration. (I should have mentioned before, this is the official name of Gail's Round Robin.) In a gallon sized ziplock bag, the cost of which is 75 cents, I find four or five things I must have, including some leather and some vintage lace. There is also the absolute perfect thing to hide the inside of Thea's hem.

In my fit of pique, sewing up that hem with black thread rather than waiting to find the right thread (which is still MIA) I didn't consider that the back of the dress is longer than the front, which means the black thread is clearly visible. As is the back-side stitching left over from planting those beads around the hem. This trim is perfect in every way; the right color, the right size and happily, the right cost!

Today I took about half an hour at the coffee shop, letting the stress of my life flicker out my ears and on its way while I continued sewing the trim into place. You can see that I'm almost all the way there with it.

Here's a detail of the back of the dress.

This is a good time to tell you a funny story. Not funny ha-ha, but funny uh-oh, though it all turned out well in the end!

I just happen to live two doors down from Larkin Van Horn of beaded textiles fame. We have a mutual friend, Anne Davenport of woven textile fame, who lives a few doors down in the other direction. Now, when Anne saw my first beaded project, the one in the picture, she asked me if I knew Larkin.

Uhm, who? Little did I know that I'd been looking at her website, drooling over a piece she'd done with a raven on a branch looking into its nest.

You should read Larkin's book, Anne said to me, and so I did. Wonderful, fantastic book that. Clear, easy to read, comfortable writing style, great photos; it's a book I would recommend to anyone interested in affixing beads to textile. After having read her book, I really did want to meet her. She's away a lot, though, teaching, so it was kind of hard to pin her down as you would a regular neighbor. No catching her tending the flowers out front, as it were. By the way, the title of Larkin's book is Beading On Fabric. It's put out by Interweave Press. You can find that plus a whole bunch of other Larkin-style goodies on her website www.LarkinArt.com.

On this particular day, I'd discovered that I didn't have enough beads to finish Thea's project. Earlier in the week, my beading basket took a nosedive, backwards off a bench at the park. The contents went EVERYWHERE! I swear, it may as well have been raining beads over in Sequim for as far as my stuff got scattered. In the fray, I lost the bag containing the rest of the beads in that color. Come to think of it, I think that's how I lost the thread too. It was in the basket in the event I ended up hemming the dress by hand.

Anyways, I was a quarter of the way around the bottom of Thea's dress when I realized I had about 50 beads left. Um. Uh oh. With four weeks left, I wasn't positive that I could order them and have them get here with time left over to finish the job.

First I went to Anne. I checked her office. I checked her home. I thought I saw her car at the grocery and went inside to see if I could find her. She's got a decent stash of beads and I know her well enough that I felt comfortable camp-dogging her for a wee bit of them. For two days I tried to find her. Finally, with no work getting done on the dress and Thea giving me the hairy eyeball (she's naked after all, good thing it's August or she'd be cold too), not to mention the due date marching closer, I bit the bullet. There's only one other person I know who has beads on hand, lots of them, so probably even the ones I need... and that would be Larkin.

Being an author myself, I know what it's like to give your name and have the person get all freaky with you. Oh my god! I've read your stuff! (Here's where their voice drops to a reverent near hiss.) You're Famous!

No, actually I'm not. There's a reason I stopped writing under my own name. But Larkin is Larkin, in person and on the cover of her book, so I felt kind of weird dropping in on her front porch, with my hand out to boot, her having never met me before and all.

Larkin, by the way, is really, really nice. She didn't bat an eyelash. I showed her what I needed and yes, she had something suitable. I then got the double treat of not only having met her, but also getting to go inside her studio and see the amazing stuff she's currently working on. It's even better in person than it is in the pictures I've seen. The detail in the stitching just isn't quite as apparent in the photos. I wanted to linger and admire, but, ya know, I just met her and asked her for a favor at the outset. I wish I would have had that on tape. I got so embarrassed and tongue tied you'd think I was 12 again.

But then the most amazing thing happened. She invited me to come over and make silk paper with her on the weekend. You think I'm gonna say no to that!!! It was fantastic. I'm gonna go see how the paper turned out after I get Thea into her dress. Larkin asked to see her done.

I'll leave off for tonight with my husband, who decided to step in front of the lens. If he looks a little, um, concerned, you have to understand that he just wrote 6 hours worth of code. He's got brain mush. Great look for him, I think.

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Yackity Yack!

Created on: 8/11, 2008 at 05:57 pm

This here would be a test entry made to confirm the workedness of the new and improved patch just now applied by my brilliant and handsome super-genius husband. Mah-WHAHHH!

More testing material here.

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