How I Work

It seems as if I had a million deadlines March 15th including producing and submitting new work. I thought I would add to my plate by documenting my creative process. I made a conscious decision to show the process in chronological order, beginning to end; I couldn’t post at each step, or, unless someone stopped by every day, they would see the end before the beginning. I enjoy many of the tutorials of other artists, but I usually come late to the party so I have to find the first post and work forward, which I do not like. All this is to say, this is going to be one long post. We’ll start with the view out my studio window

Cool, huh? BTW, some of the text has been taken from pieces I’ve written for the March 15 submissions, so, if any of this sounds familiar, PICK ME PICK ME PICK ME!

I see my process in three stages:


     Concept and Design
     Preparation and gathering of Materials
     Actual production

A piece can start with almost anything; a thought, a feeling, a smell, a sight. Often for me it is one of these that leads to another. Most often, I stand on my deck in the dark when most of the world around me sleeps. I close my eyes, turn my face to the sky and breathe. A peace always fills me if I am willing to surrender to it (not so easy in a cold rain). I spread my arms wide and let thoughts drift in and out. I see a beginning.

   I take that beginning (be it a word or image) to my design wall.  I pin an appropriately-sized piece of black or white paper to the wall, step back, and visualize what I can. 

   I then add to it; perhaps I write the word(s) on another piece of paper and add that.  I may add fabric in the general shapes and colors I see when I close my eyes.  I step back again.

  I move, add, remove and change the image for as long as it takes to make a grin spread across my face and my feet start a happy dance.  It may take quite a while (hours-days-weeks-months!) for that grin/dance to erupt, but when it does, I know it’s time to think about actualizing the concept. 

    I then enter hunter-gatherer mode.  I open my cabinet of many colors and textures and pull one possibility at a time.  I don’t put any away until I’ve found as many pieces of the puzzle as I can. 

As I’m doing this, I see how each piece fits with the others. The color may be right, but the texture wrong. I visualize embellishment. I don’t start until I have most of what I need.


    I take each part from the wall, one at a time, use it as a pattern to cut the puzzle part it represents, and replace it on the wall with the fabric I have chosen.  It is a fluid process, some things work, some don’t.  It’s never done until it’s done, and then the wonderful thing about fiber is it can be undone!  It’s tedious to undo, but if it’s not right, it’s wrong.
  

I appliqué most of my work, and utilizing a variety of other methods including, but not limited to, fusing, basting, trapunto, beading, embroidering and quilting.  This is my thimble:

Yes, it's painters' tape.  I cannot work with a regular thimble.  Once in a while I can use a "rubber finger" we all used to page thru paper to file (ugh; the VERY BEST THING about computers is, if you can stand to allow it, the computer will file for you!!!).  The first workshop I attended as an "adult" was at Arrowmont in Tennessee.  I thought I was so creative to use the blue tape, but nooooooo; three other attendees had the handy stuff in their stash!

     So, this is really getting long and I'm almost out of words, so I'll let my pictures say thos thousands of words they're supposed to:

Yes, it's a different piece; I told you I had a lot to do!  It is, however, my sewing area.  Don't you just love the chair upholstery?u just love the chair upholstery?

And the OFFICIAL photograph of the finished piece:

And, for fun, some oth my other new work:

The last piece is a version of one of my first pieces; I have always felt the need to re-visit it with more practices skills.  Same silk screen, tho.  I'm afraid the screen is done for good because I didn't clean it well enough 2 years ago.

So, that's it.  I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at documentation.  It, like my textile skills, will get better with practice, right?  If it were warmer, this is how I'd celebrate:

And, leave my studio as it was March 16:

The Pitter-Pat of Little Feet -or- THE BATTLE OF THE SQUIRREL

My studio had a cathedral ceiling. Last year, a squirrel began keeping me company by scurrying in the eaves. It was worrisome at first, and not little scary as my BFF had recently fought her one battle with (gasp!) roof rats. Luckily, my neighbor spotted the squirrel entertaining friends (possibly a cocktail reception in celebration of his new digs?)

It didn’t happen often, and I really didn’t want to hurt the little fellow. Spring came and the squirrel left. Yea! I didn’t have to make any decisions about my former tenant.

Fall came. So did the squirrel. Okay, now I did have to take action; who knew what kind of devilment he could get into? Damage was certain to follow, if had not already occurred. I called he-who-for-a-fee-will-humanely-remove-your-furry-infestations. He came, he placed a big trap, noted that as long as “that hole is there” the squirrel would have no incentive to hop into the trap. I would insert a photo of the “hole” at this point but it is “hole” no longer.

Months pass. The pitter-patter of squirrelly toes continue over my studio. The trap remains vacant. One morning I hear the aforementioned pitter-patter above my head as I wake. In my bedroom. ARRRRGH. He’s expanding his territory. A few days later when I was watching Private Practice (don’t you just love to see Taye Diggs smile?) in the living room, you guessed it, pitter-patter.

Meanwhile, we receive a tax refund. “Wa-hoo “ says my DH, “can we get an estimate on enclosing the deck?” To maintain a peaceful life, I call a recommended contractor. He came, we shared our differing thoughts about the deck and I asked, innocently, “Do you have a minute to look at another little problem we have?” I pointed to a juncture of several rooflines in the bedroom that has been damp in the past. DH had been in the attic seeking the reason last rainy season, finding no obvious reason.

Up into the little opening in my closet (Really? My closet? He was lucky to find a place to set the ladder!)

Mr Contracter says, “Uh, there are a few problems up here…come on up an look…you can see daylight” First, I looked at DH who reckoned it was dark when he was investigating. Then I said, “that’s okay, we believe you; can you fix it?”

Well, of course he can. To his credit, he did a very thorough job of finding all the problems and offering to fix them. No, now don’t be jumping to conclusions; my furry tenant had nothing to do with the shoddy roofing job my house had. Hey, it was built long before we moved in, so I don’t even have a builder to fuss at or about. However, the gutters did have a problem that Mr Squirrel had exacerbated by leaving nesting material in them. Remember “the hole?” – part of the problem, of course.

Cut to today; I visit with “the guys” for a moment. Ronnie, who is the most chatty, proudly asks, “Did they tell you I caught that squirrel?” He demonstrated, from high atop a ladder, how he accomplished the task. His nameless helper added, “Yup! That squirrel ran down that way and jumped off the roof! Plop! Landed flat on his stomach, didn’t even use a tree! Plop! Got up, and high-tailed-it” (literally, I assumed) “up between those houses”

And so, the BATTLE OF THE SQUIRREL was waged and won.

What about the deck, you ask? Hahahahahaha. One of the joys of homeownership is putting the needs of the house before your wants.

Adieu, friend squirrel. Adieu, hole. Adieu, tax refund. Hello lovely soffit and fascia and chimney cap, and…

UPDATE!  I found a piece of "the hole" and, either the first squirrel is back or one of the party attendees just woke up.  The battle goes on.  I hope my friend, Buster, has better luck! Check out his progress: http://ewix2.blogspot.com/

The New Direction

Good Morning! As I write this, it is truly morning; 4:44 am Eastern Standard Time. In a few weeks some of the clocks in my house, at this time of day, will indicate an hour later because the magical “spring forward” time change will have occurred, but it will still be, by my personal standards, VERY early. I digress. (Yesterday, at work, I spoke with someone who had been declared, for the day, Random Thought Girl. I wonder if that’s the tattoo I will finally get?)
This particular Random Thought has, as they often do, brought us back to the beginning. Today I begin a new journey and inviting you to join me if you’d like. My intention is journal about my work.

First I want to define “work” because It is a word I use in several significantly different ways:

I have a day job. I am blessed to be paid to help people. I am a Benefits Counselor for a state retirement system. I refer to the day job with phrases like, “going to work” “being at work” and “getting ready for work”.
                                              This is "where I go to work":

                                       And a close-up of my "at work" friend:

                                                                      

I am an artist (and I have 2 official degrees to prove it!). I refer to the pieces I make as “my work” and their production as “working”. My non-artist BFF has explained to me, after a few confused conversations, that these definitions are not intuitive, as I had assumed.
                                                      This is a my "work":

                                                        This is me "working"     

                                                                                                                         
                      And so it begins. But first, I need to get ready to "go to work"

GO STEELERS!

                       LET US IN!  It's time for the SuperBowl!  GO STEELERS!

Look, Ma, I'm Working!

I am so very pleased to be able to show you

this piece.  I solved so many problems and

learned so many things while making it.

It's a silkscreen print that was the reverse

of what I'd planned and the edges, after

 "thread painting" the blossoms,

were wonky, but I love it so much!

  It's what I see at night as

I find peace at the end of a summer

day in my hammock.

I am so very blessed to be able to close

my eyes and not only "see" this, but to hear

and smell the night. 

The First Rule of Blogging

I believe the first rule of blogging is, only blog if you have something to say that would interest someone.  Yes, I have violated that rule, but am going to request a do-over. Truly, I have had little to say since my last post and less energy to say it. 

I am not sure what direction I need to head, but I am working on it.  I remember a "city-hike" I took as a Girl Scout.  At every corner we would flip a coin to decide which direction to go; I wish this were that easy.  My current direction is "forward" now, if I can find a coin...

Ah! New England

Welcome to Wentworth by the Sea, a lovely Marriott

in New Castle, New Hampshire.  We stumbled upon it

last year and returned on purpose this year.  

We used the lovely hotel as a base to discover the road less travelled in

Odiorne State Park.

                  And the road more travelled from Freeport, Maine, where LL Bean Home is open 24 hours a day (and the primary store has a very big boot outside)...



 To St Ann's Episcopal Church with amazing windows

And to, what one of my favorite people on Earth (and world-class concierge),

Mary Carey Foley described as "a very Massachusetts seaport"

Newburyport:

She was, as always in my experience, correct!

More about the FABULOUS Mary Carey can be found at

http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20090121-NEWS-901210381 and

http://www.seacoastonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080616/NEWS/806160328

Momisms

Hello! Maggie here.  Eddie (you remember Eddie, my greyhound brother) says I should write about the things Mama says all...the...time.  She and Dad are going traveling for a while, so if you're in Asheville, NC or New England (is there an Old England?) and you hear a very pretty woman saying any of these things, you'll know it's her.  Okay, here we go:
   1.  How can you possibly spend that much at the grocery when you only went for dinner?
   2.  Setting the thermostat at 70 does not make it get cooler faster.
   2a. Setting the upstairs thermostat lower than the downstairs will not work...warm air rises!
   3.  Does anybody need to go OUT?  (Eddie and I always do!)
   4.  Sit, Maggie.  (Eddie NEVER has to sit)
   5.  Plastic goes in the recycle bucket!  (She says this when she starts to throw something in the trash and finds that Daddy has mistaken the trash can with the BUCKET) 
     I think that's enough for now.  Here's a dragonfly I showed to Mama:

Now We're Talkin!

Alrighty!  Mom is going to let me blog for a while because I have so much to say.  She has given me rules.  Ha!  Like I could follow a rule
if it didn't include food, and apparently these rules don't.



So, yesterday, before I was discovered, I mentioned Mom's fabric wall; here's a picture:

Darn; I do not have the hang of this adding pictures and then writing

about them.  I am just 3, you know.

Actually, I'm 3.5 and my brother is 3.  He turned 3

this month and he has told everybody that it's his

birthday just so he can get treats.  Yes, food

is a theme 'cause nobody ever feeds us EVER!

Mama says she feeds us twice every day (at 7 and 7), but Eddie

(the 3-year-old BABY) says he forgets.  I think it's an

angle I can work with.

Here's Eddie:

                               Yes, that is his tongue licking off birthday cake or ice cream or something I didn't get any of, I'm sure.
                               I think I'll complain to the management!

                                Wet kisses and waggin' tails to you!
                                                                Maggie

Hello World, it 's Maggie...shhhh!

Hey!  Maggie here...who are you?  I like everyone and everyone likes me because my tail wags all the time.
We have to be quiet because it's very early for a Sunday morning; I am awake because I am EVER VIGILANT.  My official title is Home Security Czar and I take my position very serioiusly, so don't try sneeking up on us, 'cause I'll tell.
Yesterday Mama's BFF Jo pointed out that Mama hadn't blogged in two months!  I was shocked; I mean, she's in her studio (which is a room with one really big table, lots of pieces of cloth pinned to a wall, a comfy chair near her computer and music in the air) a lot, what is so important that she can't take a few minutes to...uh oh! Somebody's coming!

I Can't Sleep!

There was a time that, if I was awake at 1:29 a.m., I would be having a good time or, at the very least, pretending to.  Not so much now.  My dogs and husband are sound asleep and taking up all the be but about 18" which not enough for me to relax enough to sleep.  After an hour of prayer, reflection and counting backwards (hey, sometimes it works!) I am awake and drinking bourbon and diet pepsi.  And typing this to prove I am alive.

Proof noted, here's a picture that I'm using to guide my next piece:
Crap! As usual, I can't get in the right place; it's up top :-)

I want to sleep!

Some Things Never Change

Wahoo!  A wedding shower. 

The lovely Theresa (a recent high school graduate - Congratulations, Theresa!) is

modeling my group's (Group 3) spectacular, cutting-edge one-shoulder

grecian-goddess mini. Unfortunately, another group (Group 4) won the chocolate.

  The winner is on the right; at least one person in that group had done this toilet-paper wedding dress thing before because it had really amazing details including a ruffled neckline.  Really, it took us half of our five minutes to figure out it was easier for the "bride" to turn than for us to wrap her.  Since I go to one wedding shower every seven or eight years, I will probably never develop the skill needed to win.

Besides, I used all the time leading up to the shower (and a little more) making my gift.

 

Modeling this is the bride-to-be, my niece Whitney.  I used my extrordinary texting skills to communicate with her, having her describe her wedding bouquet; Calla lilies with Tiffany blue wrap.  It's the first apron I've made in 30 years and I am not an

excellent renderer, but I'm happy with ther result. I tried thread painting without batting.

I'm considering marketing an apron, but it will be much less labor-intensive I promise.  I had been considering making mini-quilts for the pockets. 

BY THE WAY, IT'S HOT AND SO AM I!!!!!

Tomorrow is Memorial Day

The next time you visit a cemetery, take a moment to visit "someone" who probably won't get any earthly company.  So many people have passed and left only a headstone.  A thought for one of them, especially someone who served in a war, I have found to be very grounding.  My mother is buried in a military cemetery (she served as a WAVE beginning at the end of WWII) and EVERY headstone there tells a story.

Speaking of stories, I was attempting to attach a lovely picture of Camp Nelson, when I read that Medal of Honor recipient, Private William M. Harris, is also buried there.  A member of the 7th U.S. Cavalry, he died at Little Big Horn.

Ahead of the Curve

Color me surprised when, after my poking at the Father-Son-and-and-Holy Ghost concept in my last post, I discovered this is Trinity Sunday.  A Sunday, according to our interim priest, that homily-deliverers hate because the concept is so challenging.  To condense what I heard (as we all know, what I heard may not have been what he meant), once you've said they are all one, all divine (with Jesus being totally human and totally divine), there's not much to say.  I also heard that they said these things because, when it's not so easy to explain something, better to just state it as fact, not open to discussion.  I work with a number of folks that have the same approach to debatable topics.

He was able to put an intersting twist on the 3-in-one; God is in heaven, Jesus is of the World and the Holy Spirit works in your heart.  I would, personally, place them a little differently, but it's encouraging to know that my thought process is keeping up with the liturgical calendar.  Hee hee! I crack myself up sometimes!

This is not at all what I wanted to wax on about today, but I  couldn't get it off my mind until I  put in cyberspace.  Tomorrow being a holiday, I hope to gather my thoughts for a more introspective post.  See, there I go again, making myself LOL.

Day of Pentecost

It's Pentecost.  It's a glass-half-empty-glass-half-full kind of Holy Day.  It's the beginning of a loooong "green" church season.  I mean really long; the next liturgical season is Advent, which comes about 6 weeks before Christmas.  Long.  A little history:

Pentecost was originally an Old Testament festival, since the time of Josephus calculated as beginning on the fiftieth day after the beginning of Passover. In the Christian calendar, it falls on the seventh Sunday after Easter. It was called the Feast of Weeks (Shavuot), and in the Old Testament was originally an agricultural festival celebrating and giving thanks for the "first fruits" of the early spring harvest (Lev 23, Exod 23, 34).
While there are other references to Pentecost in the New Testament (e.g. 1 Cor 16:8), it is most significant in Acts 2 and the familiar scene of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on those in the "upper room." The New Testament writers associate the events of Acts 2 with Pentecost, and relate it to the prophecies of Joel 2 and promises of Jesus (Acts 1:8). In both, the emphasis is on a empowerment through the Holy Spirit to enable the people of God to witness to Jesus the Christ.

Now, to my personal glass-almost-all-the-way-full view of the day.  When I think about it, I have some trouble with the concept of the three-in-one Trinity.  My bad.  My God forgives me.  I anthropomorphise the godhead. (There is the whole is Jesus-wholly-human-wholly-divine concept to deal with, too, but I will blissfully ignore that for now.)  I am most comfortable with the Holy Spirit.  I have been touched by it and I believe that when I ask for God's help that help is delivered by the Spirit.  I see the Spirit as God's presence on Earth.  So today is the day that commemorates that.  Pretty darn cool.  As my friend, Linda, has said, "Yea, God!"  

Now, in my simple little world, God-the-father, Abba, gave us this world to care for and enjoy.  Yesterday evening I enjoyed it in abundance from my hammock...here's the view (please imagine an aviary full of birdsong).  OK, the view is at the top.  Sorry, just go back and look at it again...and be thankful, with me, that this is, indeed, the day the Lord has made.  Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!

There is No Joy in Mudville

Mighty Casey has struck out.  Yes, my guilty pleasure is American Idol.  I never watch the "embarassing" weeks at the beginning, but when they finally get to the real thing, I record it to watch and judge.  This year, I AM ashamed to say, I am enamoured with the eye candy that is Casey James.  Tall, blonde, yummy!  Yes, he can sing, too, but he knew it was time to bow out gracefully.  Crystal will be fine because she was a professional when she "got to Hollywood" but Lee is what the show is all about.  His rendition of The Boxer has me humming every time I hear it.

Today on Facebook...

I've been doing "computer" work I've been putting off.  Google searches, entering things in my calendar, organizing what I can control.  So, procrastinator that I am, I wandered over to my facebook page, which lead me to...well you probably know what it lead to.  Welcome, anyone I "friended" today!  I found folks I knew in a former life with favorite pages ranging from Glenn Beck to "Tell Dick Cheney to Shut the Hell Up!"  How is it possible we grew up in the same small town?  I'm off for now to see how to make that DCheney site a favorite...but first, a shot of my kids for Mothers' Day:

And, Then Appears a Sign of the Covenant

Okay, I didn't see a rainbow, but I'm sure there is one somewhere.  What I have representing God's grace are flowers in my garden:

Can't you just smell the lilacs and peonies?

I can...from the HAMMOCK!  Let's give a shout (hooray) for perennials.

Hey! We're Flooded Here, Too!

Despite national reporting, serious flooding occured north of Tennessee.

This as a photo of our downtown area Monday (I think).  The water started rising Sunday.  Lucky for me, I had an appointment to have my most recent BIG piece photograhed in Cincinnati.  Normally this is 1 1/2 hour drive; Sunday it took twice that long because, no matter which way I went, I was blocked by some official vehicle (the most amusing was a city garbage truck), and forced to backtrack 3 or 4 miles to try another route.  I saw a lot of the countryside in the hour and a half it took me to get 15 miles to I-75.

Before I started my trek, my DH, Terry, checked our walk-in crawlspace and proclaimed it dry.  This was good because three years we had our back yard renovated to divert water away from the house. How did we initally find our water problem?  We would run out of hot water (the water heater is gas and the pilot light would, uh, drown).  By the time the water heater was out, the crawlspace would be dry; we thought it was a fluke that the pilot would be extinguished.  It seemed to happen during a storm, so we thought it was the wind .  We finally had a plumber in to fix whatever was causing the extinguishing.  "Uh, sir" the professional asked with a smirk,"do you see that line (about a foot from the ground) that is on everything?  You've had a lot of water down here."

I digress.  I returned from Cincinnati late (at least I knew to take the longer, drier, way back), exhausted, anticipating a lovely, hot shower.  I hopped in and EEEK!  Coldcoldcoldcoldcold!  Once again (this time we saw it for ourselves), we had our own personal flood.  Sometime in the previous 12 hours the sump pump stopped pumping and the water heater drowned.  Happily, the water went away by noon Monday, DH lit the pilot light and all was well by the time I came home from work. 

Boy-oh-boy, I am so spoiled; one cold shower and I'm whining.  There are millions on this planet that don't have food or shelter.  Color me thankful. 

Hammock Time

Really, is there anything better than a hammock in the spring?  This is my new hammock; I have wanted one for years and I just decided it was time to get one.  It is everything I dreamt about; I lie in it after work with a cocktail and my Kindle.  I lie in it after dark and look up at the stars.   It is especially perfect in the evening when it has cooled more outside than in.  Bliss!

The first night I had it I took my pillow and comforter to it, got wonderfully peaceful and comfortable and fell asleep as I intended.  About an hour later I awoke after FALLING OUT OF IT!!! Ouch.  No more mixing Ambien and hammock time.

Hamhamhamhamhammock time!

If it's Wrong, Fix it

It's the middle of April.  Two weeks ago my BFF and my day-job boss asked me if I was depressed.  Hmm...both are very astute women, and after very little thought I realized that, sure enough, I was situationally depressed.  No, I am not a doctor, nor do  play one on television.  I made up the diagnosis, but it was accurate.  I had too much on my plate and was doing pretty much nothing.  Immobile.  No forward progress.  Guilt was keeping me from doing anything.

I was sad to realize the problem portion on my plate was my EfM class.  I wasn't studying.  I skipped two weeks of class because I did not want to go unprepared.  I did once and I felt liberated and rude at the same time.  My bad.  I quit,  A weight lifted from my shoulders.  The weight-lifting feeling is my personal barometer as to whether I've made a good decision or not.  It works really well if you're thinking about changing jobs.  Send a resume out.  Feel relieved?  Good decision; send more.  Feel panicky or not good?  You're not ready to move on.  Simple, like me.

After a no-guilt weekend with the BFF in lovely Birmingham, here's what I have been doing since my relelation:

Cleaned my studio.  Isn't all this folded fabric beautiful?  A place for everything and everything in its place.  Those of you that know me, stop laughing...NOW!

Adopted a new dog who LIKES to keep my company in the studio.  I have more flattering pictures of the beautiful Eddie, but this is the only one in the studio.  Yes, he needs a bigger bed.  I have the fabric, I have the soft stuff.  It's on the list.  But first I need to finish:

this piece.  As of an hour ago, I am one step closer to that.  After I post this, I'm going to make lots of bias binding.  Each part is about a foot square...let's see, 4 feet of binding each (assuming no mistakes...hahaha...I crack myself up) x 12 = 48 feet of binding.  

But I don't have to read and contemplate Paul's letter to the Romans first!  Wahoo!