Showing posts with label what if?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what if?. Show all posts

4/06/2016

bead sketches : month three

17

March was a bit wild, not the least of which was the unrelenting rainfall
which definitely set my teeth on edge by month's end (all time records were broken for Seattle!)
but did make for cozy hours at the beading table and a guilt-free frame of mind
as I watched the grass grow another foot taller and didn't have to mow it.

So now there's 12 ...

March's collection - month three of my '52 weeks : bead sketches' project - was more challenging
than earlier months due to paper wrangling one week and found object attachment issues
the next ... but part of the joy of this project is continuing on no matter what.
Nothing has to be perfect.
I can change my mind right in the middle of a bead pattern
because these are "idea" squares ... itty bitty templates for trying on a new dress, 
so to speak.  And it's all about the process, not about the finished product.

I've said it before - this adventure is so  freeing.


There was quite a lot of positive feedback last time about posting my inspiration each week,
so once again I'll note the source, or the word prompts, or where my ideas came from.
They are written below each photograph with links, if appropriate.

~ followed two simple questions: how might I create  texture  on those triangles
& what kind of edge treatment(s) might compliment the graphic elements? ~

~ thinking about an homage to "broken wings" inspired by THIS IMAGE ~

~ one glorious evening I bought a marvelous tome, wrapped in a paper bag,
from this [in]famous BOOKSTORE 

~ contemplation of leaves in the last line of THIS

: : :

To view all of the  52 weeks : bead sketches  posts, starting with the most recent,



3/03/2016

bead sketches : month two

41

And now there are 8 ...

February's collection - month two of my '52 weeks : bead sketches' project - is finished.
More playing relentlessly,
more diving deep,
more showing up faithfully.

I also did a lot of wondering about why I haven't imposed 
a project like this on myself before.  In truth I suppose because the time is NOW
and I wasn't where I needed to be to take this on before now.


Just showing up to do the work has great benefits.
I'll write more on that subject later as thoughts solidify, but for now
I've an amazing sense of freedom with this work / play
that I've never, 
ever
had before.
There's surely a lesson in this approach for me
although I can't put it all into words yet.

For this month I thought it might be of interest if I noted where
my inspiration, or word prompts, or weekly idea came from.
They are written below each photograph with links.

~ bugle bead inspiration arose from HERE ~

~ exploring some thoughts about THIS ~

~ describing in materials the meaning of THIS PHRASE ~

~ experimenting with the pattern of THESE ~


Feels  so good  to be back with my beads.

: : :
Postscript:  A few hours after I published this post I came across some
excellent words that seem to fit right in so I've come back to note them.

You don’t need more motivation or inspiration to create the life you want. You need less shame around the idea that you’re not doing your best. You need to stop listening to people who are in vastly different life circumstances and life stages than you tell you that you’re just not doing or being enough. You need to let timing do what it needs to do. You need to see lessons where you see barriers. You need to understand that what’s
right now  becomes inspiration later.


: : :

To view all of the  52 weeks : bead sketches  posts, starting with the most recent,


2/02/2016

bead sketches : month one

48

When I wrote the following on Dear Flora last month,

"Something new for what is feeling like a glorious new year on the horizon.
Thought it might be time to embark on a yearlong adventure ... 52 weeks
of 3-inch squares and the discovery of all the tiny worlds I can create
within them. I have no idea where this is going,
but go I must ... "

what I didn't mention was that I was going on this journey mainly to
play with beads again.  We'd taken a break, my bead family and I.  You know how it is
when you have to step away for a while in order to come back with fresh eyes,
a renewed heart?

I'd been away for so long that many new bead varieties had hit the markets without me
and I'd been growing steadily more curious about how to integrate them
into bead embroidery work.  Compound this with all the hand dyed
cloth I'd been amassing, explorations with paper, metals and all sorts
of sundry textiles and what was building felt nothing short of a crisis of making ...
I needed to dive.
I needed to stop dreaming and start doing.

For the last year or so I've noticed myself being attracted to the projects
of others who'd committed themselves to creating something/anything on a steady schedule.
Committed.  Key word.
Schedule.  Key word.
Be they daily poems or sketches, weekly paintings or mixed media collages, 
even a gorgeous pair of knitted socks per month, folks were dedicating themselves to
show up ... do the work.  Best of it was, they were gaining much from 
this kind of discipline.  They talked about it - they were having breakthroughs.
Their new creative "habit" was renewing confidence &
providing fertile ground for inspiration.
This, to my mind, was a healthy choice of how to invest ones time.

So I had a good long think about what I could stomach doing for the long haul.
Having really blown it in the past was actually helpful for not setting goals
to outrageously out there ... 20/20 hindsight & all that.
Size was going to be critical.  Beads are [mostly] tiny little pretties
and the last thing I wanted was a demanding blank space shouting, "Fill me up!"
So learning from a previous 6-inch disaster I first cut the size in half.


Another extremely important aspect of setting parameters was allowing
for the element of  play  ... I did not want to produce a *finished* square each week.
Instead, how freeing to simply play with ideas & materials
and just see where that took me.
Hence the name, bead sketches - not particularly clever, but to the point.
Without the pressure of having to finish something each week I found
month one an extremely enjoyable enterprise.  As each new week rolled around I
picked up whatever caught my fancy in the moment & started from there.
I wondered what would happen if I paired this with that,
then tried it.  I experimented with edge treatments & extending beyond
the exact space while allowing the materials to dictate the direction.
There were mess-ups - like joining methods, thread issues, fabric limitations -
which sent the beads all wonky-doodle ...
but I sure know a lot more now then if I'd never started.

Little templates to explore some ideas every week.
Slow and steady ... just show up.
Play relentlessly.

I'm really liking how this feels.





:::
It would be immensely enjoyable to hear about your experiences.
If you are someone who's ever [or currently] embarked on a daily, weekly,
even monthly practice, your comments about the process are most welcome here.
If you'd like to share a link where we can come and see what you made during the process,
please do.  I think the sharing could be very advantageous indeed.

Thank you for stopping by.

"I have no idea where this is going, but go I must ..."

: : :

To view all of the  52 Weeks : Bead Sketches  posts, starting with the most recent,





6/07/2013

Uncommon threads

23



"When you start to think of the arts as not this
thing that is going to get you somewhere in
terms of becoming an artist or becoming
famous or whatever it is that people do, but
rather a way of making being in the world not
just bearable, but fascinating, then it starts to
get interesting again."





These eyelashes sent me on a wild train of thought 
(aside from the little girl in me who wanted to play dress-up & would beg
to try these on just once) ...
I asked myself,
what if all of us who make things
were to change our perceptions about
common
materials ... the tried & true materials we use over and over?
What might happen?
















:::


Captions under each photo are clickable for the original websites



12/25/2012

Serendipity with a single keystroke

14


My thought was to compose a lovely, ethereal tree photo for a Christmas post ...

The roast was cooking, the dogs were fed, a bottle of red
opened, poured and  emptying  being enjoyed.  And then came some spare minutes to play with photos.
This always works best when I have no preconceived notions of an outcome ... 
it's so much better that way (giving up control)
but I have to say, this happy accident 
takes the cake.

With one mistaken keystroke  this  popped up ...


my mind FLEW!
What had I done???
Here was a quilt of my tree,
a  mosaic,  tree-ness broken into thousands of pieces;
I saw a  graphic map  for intricate stitching,
maybe a pattern  sketch  for weaving cloth,
some  boro pieces  on a faded ground.

It was all of these things
and I had no idea how I got here.



This was the tree I was working on.
Tentatively, I began to hit the "undo" button
and traced backwards to see where I'd come from.

Then I began to wonder ... what if I try to make this happen again  on purpose?






Just some used twine from dyeing bundles this summer,
wrapped now around a new idea.


May serendipity lead us all astray.

  







7/01/2012

Interior motives

25


The best laid plans, as they say...except when it comes to mark making with plants
and other sundry items,
it might be best to put ones expectations aside.
Here is the outcome from  last week's science experiment...


Things were going along quite swimmingly with my idea to stuff two pieces of cloth
~ one, 100% silk, and the other 100% ramie ~
with identical ingredients:  red cabbage, fresh young bracken leaves, a spiral coil of copper wire.
The wrapped bundles looked promising when they first came out of their simmered cabbage "soup"...
that is, until I got the not-so-bright idea of dribbling a tiny amount of full-strength vinegar onto Bundle #1
(shown in its "before" state on the left, HERE)
aaaarrrrgggghhhh,  the whole thing immediately went  P I N K
and worse still,
bleached out every mark except for the copper spiral.


Since you never learn anything the second time you're kicked by a mule,
I decided to leave well enough alone...


Bundle #2 was put up to dry
and Bundle #1 was, well, put out to pasture?

In the meantime, a potful of gorgeous darkblueypurpley dye was still sitting there
and I couldn't bear to throw it away...what if...
so I tore the sleeve from a silky thrift store blouse, wrapped it around a chunk of driftwood 
with some rusty metal bits
and after a good stew overnight and five days rest,
the binding came off...


time, oh yes, time is your friend.
These are priceless words from a wise, wandering alchemist.


The driftwood soaked up quite a lot of color.  In fact, the cloth felt quite dry as I peeled it open
while the wood was still heavy from the moisture.
And it smelled like a big boiled cabbage, tah boot!


Dry down knocked that pink back to a pale lavender, but the blues stayed quite true.


The next thing that happened
reminded me of school days.  Ever try to use that line,
"Sorry teacher, but my dog ate my homework"?


True to her nature, Quinn ate my bundler.


But the "homework" was safe.



: : : :


Special thanks goes out to Dianne, who recently posted a series of photographs
from her time in San Francisco...all processed with the Snapseed app.
They are glorious and she inspired me bigtime ~ I used the app for this post.
Please go see her images HERE.


: : : :


To everyone stateside celebrating the 4th this week, Happy Independence Day all!




4/02/2012

I am the daughter of an April fool...

10



Genealogy is a trickster and a grand informant.  My earliest traceable ancestor on my father's side
immigrated to America from England to escape religious persecution.
He was a Methodist minister who settled in Woburn, MA.  The year was 1608.


Following this line, there were two men who fought together in the Revolutionary War...

my gt.-gt.-gt. grandfather and his son, both named Jirah.
I have copies of their war papers.  Jirah, Sr. was discharged in 1782, the document signed:

"By his excellency George Washington Esq., General and Commander of the Forces of the United States of America &c., John Trumbull, Secty.  By reason of wounds or disabilities received in service, he was placed upon the pension list, and was a pensioner June 1, 1813, "Rank, Private. Annual stipend, $60."

I can't quite fathom this...George Washington himself.

My father's father was named Lewis Napoleon...
seriously?


As for my own father,  I wish I knew more.
Born today, April Fool's Day, 1924...he would have been 88.
I remain trumped by my own genealogy.

But back to grandpa Lewis... he married a young gal in 1917 by the name of Fanny Mae Bowyer.
She was from Hereford, England (the trickster is going full circle!) and while I lived in the UK in the late '80's,
I visited the village she came from.
I found the headstones of her/my ancestors in the village graveyard and had tea with distant cousins.

Fanny Mae was fond of hand work (just like my maternal grandmother).  She knitted & sewed and sent me presents when I was little.
I don't know what all of this means except that genealogy is potent.
Ever present.
Layered.



8/31/2011

Last day of August...

18



This may not have been the summer to write home about
(did we even have summer here in the Pacific northwest?)
and it wasn't exactly a summer destined for the memoirs.
But it was bountiful, yes,
in its own way...


To say this summer had gone to the dawgs, well, that wouldn't mean what you might think...
literally, it was for my dawgs.
They'd waited out a long spring of inactivity,
they were deserving - my most loyal friends...hangin' with me through thick n' thin.
Being of four paws, they need to RUN.  It's not an understatement to say they require it
and if they don't get it, we all go a bit nutso.
 That is putting it mildly.


Our local 'Agility Gang' (do you like our name?) put on a small demonstration for the community
at the first annual Dog Promenade...
this is O, running her two year old border collie, directing him to take the tunnel.
O herself is eighty.
I hope to have one tenth of her tenacity when I am eighty...O, you're my hero!


This one went to her first 'Doggy Manners' class...
she was so fearful when she first came to live here, but now
she's learning that the world is not as scary as she thought and staying calm
feels pretty good.
I'm mighty proud of her ~ a smooch on yer sweet nose, black flash.


We fit in quite a bit of exploring...
mysterious forts had shown up on the beaches


and that perennial question, "what if?" seemed to follow us everywhere.
This is a question about possibilities...
what if you ask this question whenever you think you can't do something?


Getting around is much trickier here in the summer...especially in August
when it seems like the whole world is on vacation except us.
We spend a lot of time waiting around in
looooong lines at the ferry terminal...

so I stitched me some long lines while waiting in the car...


and was treated to a few of these while in transit.


Most nights, I headed upstairs to this gabled corner where I worked late, late, late.
Dawgs slept.  Baby great horned owls screeched.  I cursed at tiny beads.
Do not be fooled by the seeming austerity of this view

because this is what my corner table really looked like...
a huge beadiful mess!
One big beady project consumed almost every night in August...
but all fingers functioned properly,
praise doG.


So now it's on to September...I hope I'll remember to run with it, make the best use of waiting 
that I possibly can.
Make messes.
Kiss me some dawg faces.