First Friday and some other firsts...

Every month in nearby Old Town Anacortes, they have what's called 'First Friday Art Walk.'

Galleries, shops & eateries stay open late and the main drag buzzes with activity.

Have you ever been to one of these?  Oh so much FUN.

But there's something extra special about the First Friday in December.

The holiday season seems to infuse it with such a festive spirit

and a festive spirit was just what I was after.  

A clear, cold night perfect for those with warm winter coats, like dawg,

who came along for a night on the town.

Although a rural woofer, she'll never pass up an opportunity to prowl for pats.

The Samish Gallery of Native Arts was filled with stardust!

Ok, window reflections from the street trees but that would make for a good story, wouldn't it?

Glass snowflakes...

woolies...

and little antique shops with scents of mulled wine & hot apple cider

wafting from the doorways, not to mention the baked goods heaped on trays.

Ok, we won't.  But that led to this...

Adrift

THE BEST restaurant in town.

For starters, a to-die-for Thai tomato bisque soup followed by

seared scallops in lime butter, sauteed organic kale with garlic

sided with a scrummy potato croquette,

all washed down with a local red.

Yup, the feelin' was quite festive indeed.

By morning,

the sun brought these...

long, glorious shadows after days & days of gray-upon-gray.

The first sun of December!

Upstairs on the worktable, there was a little weather happening.

Some rain was falling...

T's soft rain, all the way from Australia where they are having summer

and where I like to imagine their stories are being stitched into storycloths, too.

Sending heartfelt wishes of good cheer and festive spirits to all!

Note: all night photos were taken with the trusty phone (aka Batphone)

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She was bookin'...

I think of Chad Alice Hagen as a redheaded whirlwind.  Best to get a lot of sleep before one of her workshops  ~ you will definitely need the stamina.  And you probably won't be dozing during demos, won't be nipping out for *whatevers* because you will have stood in front of a table like this with your mind a bit blown and like most of us in her workshops, chomping at the bit to learn just HOW Chad makes these merino felt(ed) beauties.

"Resist Dyeing and Book Making" was held on our little island last summer.  Chad traveled all the way from her Asheville, NC digs to teach for three glorious days.  She only brought a few things with her  ;>}

Day one was about learning to resist dye the merino wool pre-felts using a huge assortment of binding, pinching, clamping, clipping and banding objects.  Our dye station was set up outside, the perfect spot for three of these:

While the Dye Master (Chad, in the yellow apron) kept the dye pots cooking, the sorters were kept busy.  Each bucket held all the bundles from one student which had to be separated between successive dye baths.  This is when the anticipation really started to build ~ waiting to unwrap our precious bundles was grueling!

By the second day, our felts (laid to dry on tables overnight) were ready for some serious scrutiny which included a whole lot of oooohing and aaaaahing and, "Can I have that one?"   I think I actually told someone that one of her pieces was going to disappear off her table overnight, HA!  The goal was to pick two pieces to embellish for book covers.  Chad made the rounds, offering her own share of ooohs & aaahs & "oops, that one fell in my pocket"...

Then came the hard part (for me anyway)...the bookbinding.  I don't think I have hands built for the task so I fumbled, grew a tad peeved with myself and decided in the end that stitching and beading were softer alternatives.  Book making is best left to stronger hands.  Sometimes it is just as important to know what we shouldn't be doing as it is to know what we should, right?

Here's a group view below of the covers for our coptic books, embellished with stitching and beadwork and ready to be filled with pages. That stunning black & blue one (2nd row on the right) belongs to my good friend Robin A., who came over from a neighboring island to join us for the workshop.  She wrote a wonderful post on her blog Beadlust, about this workshop.  If you aren't already familiar with Robin's extraordinary beadwork, leave a few moments to peruse the rest of her blog, too - it will not disappoint! 

Although I didn't complete my coptic book, I did finish my little wrap journal.  The binding on the spine was quite easy to get the hang of and I adore Chad's version of the bone and leather closure.

For Chad's own tales of her time out west, don't miss her post about it over on News from Studio A & B.  I think she liked it here.  She is threatening to come back.

In the meantime, check out Chad's Flickr photos of her FeltBooks and be prepared to drool.

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Reaching a little milestone

Blogfriends, let's celebrate a little, shall we?!
How about a toast in light of this small, yet momentous occasion?
For TODAY
{{{{{{{ drumroll }}}}}}}

this wee blog is turning

 

When I began, I had no idea how many blogs were out there.  I am so glad that I found all of you and that you found me.  Many of you visit regularly ~ that's just so darn wonderful!   You continue to listen to me yabber on about this & that, then you leave some heartfelt thoughts, share what's happening in your neck of the woods, make me laugh, enlighten me when I start to drift.  And greatest of all...you encourage me incessantly with your kind words, whether you know it or not.  For this I am sincerely grateful.  


Today there are seventy nine followers over there in the sidebar ~ oh my goodness ~ from points all around the globe. We are really not so far away from each other after all.

Better sign off now before I get too soppy.


But let's keep going!  See you soon, and thank you.

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Mimicry...

An odd word, mimicry.  Doesn't roll off the tongue very well.  And what I'm doing with it here, in stitches, isn't rolling off the needle very well.  Frustrating but I keep going.

Thought I'd see what would happen if I tried to imitate the "feeling" of fabric pattern with embroidery thread. Maybe that's an echo and not a mimic?

Works a little better in some areas than others...

Helpful to pull back, see it in a photo...some of these stitches need to be carried clear across a few bands of fabric rather than be kept contained in little areas.  I'll send some off to wander wildly like their patterned cousins.

Really not sure what is going on with this one.  Went a bit *swooney* when I saw this post over on India's blog.  I thought she was posting some very fine examples of Australian textile art but as I read on, nooo, they were contemporary indigenous paintings. wow. 

Could that feeling, that pattern play, be translated into stitches I wondered.  Someone can probably do it but I'm not sure it's me.  Can't get this anywhere near where I'd like it to be quite yet ~ may even start over.  May stop.  Still, the process has been worth all the effort so far.  I've had quite a few conversations in my head with whoever this artist is...I want to know WHY they made those marks the way they did.  Maybe then I could better understand why they speak to me so loudly and why I feel the need to stitch them.  Maybe then I COULD stitch them.

Mimicry...defined as "the act or art of copying or imitating closely."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, my friends ~ now go mimic some ghosts & goblins!

The Old Hall, Fairies by Moonlight; Spectres & Shades, Brownies and Banshees

~ John Anster Fitzergerald, c. 1875 ~

courtesy of The Leicester Galleries

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Her garden...

'Her garden'

~ by Catrin Welz-Stein ~

All Rights Reserved

The hazy idea for a post about my garden was brewing for a few days.  You know how that is, when you can't quite pinpoint what it is you'd like to say - or how.  I keep a bookmark called "Inspiration" for just these moments and that's where I went, looking for some clarity.


The image above, 'Her garden,' wowed me the first moment I saw it.  And there it was, safely bookmarked, wowing me again.  I immediately wrote to Catrin Welz-Stein to ask permission to use it as the lead photo for my garden tale.  Such a metaphor for so many things.  Hauntingly beautiful...perhaps a tad disturbing...breathtaking...definitely otherworldly.  A world of bounty revealed.  Or so it is to me anyway.


Have a look for yourself - for more of Catrin's amazing digital art, see it here.  

*  * * * *

Disclaimer: the following post is written from

the viewpoint of a confessed flower floozie.

Continue reading at your own discretion. 

Autumn, and the garden is winding down.  As it readies itself for a rejuvenating winter's sleep, I've been taking stock.  There's time to think, tending to the multitude of late season chores and I've been remembering the bountiful displays and all the joy my plants  brought this season.  

So I thought a little pictorial celebration might be in order in honor of this, my first garden at my first home.  Assembled here are a few of the pretties that, well, how shall I describe it, put on their best dresses.

Camas lily 

Camassia leichtlinii

Last fall I planted several patches of these bulbs - they came up splendidly in June.  They naturalize when they're happy so I'm keeping fingers crossed the little colonies will multiply.  Native to the island where I live, they are no longer a common sight due to all the usual environmental reasons.  Once an important & abundant food source for the Native Americans, they are now hard to find.  Trying to change that at Chez Sweetpea...

Rudbeckia 'Cherry Brandy'

Rudbeckia hirta

Fell in love with this little redhead!  I'd never met her before but I'm definitely having her back again next year...she was a knockout. Bloomed her silly head off the entire summer.  And she's not entirely gone.  There's a tidy little packet of snipped redheads tucked into the freezer drawer awaiting a dye day.

Heirloom sweet pea 'Marion'

Lathyrus odorata

Oh, the scent from these beauties was indescribable!  Grew about 16 plants on a 4' wide by 6' tall willow teepee and what a sight they were, what with their delicate purple edged ruffled-ness.  Growing to EIGHT feet tall, the mass of them was positively intoxicating.  My nom de plume...

Coneflower 'Tiki Torch'

Echinacea

Planted some Tiki's in front of dark purple salvia 'Caradonna' - they were good companions, showing each other off in that opposites-on-the-color-wheel way.  With so many new coneflowers on the market these days in an ever widening choice of (bizarre?) colors, I was charmed right up to the checkout stand with this one because Tiki is -- are you ready for this -- f-r-a-g-r-a-n-t.  Sweet, like honey & citrus.

Pincushion flower

Scabiosa 'House Hybrids'

One of my cottage garden faves and an outstanding bee magnet (so important in North American gardens) ta' boot, this House Hybrids selection sort of blew me away with their stature...we are talking flowers atop three foot stems!  And it's the middle of October and they are still blooming.

Hummingbird fuchsia

Zauschneria garrettii 'Orange Carpet'

What an orange carpet this was, a non-stop bloomer for the entire summer and every hummingbird within miles must have dropped by for a swig.  The House Hybrids are at the top, peeking out just to right of center. This photo was taken at the end of August, when the variegated Sea Holly was also in her full glory...

Variegated Sea Holly

Eryngium planum 'Jade Frost'

'Jade Frost'...now wouldn't that be a tantalizing name for an ace female detective in a Miss Marple mystery? 

Poppy 'Black Peony'

Papaver somniferum

Excuse the underside but is this poppy not *magnificent* from under here?!  The color was somewhat like burnt grape juice -- a purple/red so dark it truly was almost black -- with blooms about five inches across, what a statement.  In tandem with those glaucous-blue stems & leaves, these petals stole the show...however briefly.  Almost ephemeral, no friend to wind, the windfall blew right into my freezer  :>}

And one more, the brightest beacon of my fall garden...

Dahlia 'Orange Hybrids'

A species dahlia that needs no staking and gets no mildew and greets you every morning with a very loud, "HELLO."  Did I mention the foliage is bronzey?  If you think you might not be able to live without one, Annie's can send you one of your own.  

I used to work there back when dinosaurs roamed the earth so I can say these things...

So if you've made it this far, I thank you for joining in the celebration with me.  And thanks again, Catrin, for inspiring with your beautiful work.

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The shift...

stitching takes a turn

nature makes some marks

wanderlust

shameless rest

maybe all paths look like this.

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Waiting for calm...

Had a lot of words about this once, but I am feeling more quiet at this moment.  I first spoke about this story cloth in a July post when I was working on a raggedy fabric collage for a workshop that Jude Hill of Spirit Cloth was teaching...now it is September and like the season, "Waiting for calm..."  has come to fruition.  Finished for now...words in place, beading done. 

I am grateful for teachers that encourage by their own doing/making/marking.  While I stepped out of anything comfortable for me on this one...pastels, PINKS!, newly learned stitches and soft combinations...it is exactly where I needed to be.  Calm was there.  So I followed it.

Started here...

journeyed this (other continent) direction...

ended here...

Hesitation can be an enemy.  It certainly is for me (let me count the ways).  I'm thinking we shouldn't underestimate the POWER of teachers to inspire!  At the risk of sounding trite, follow those pure notes (they give) that can make your heart sing.  Those notes have stories yet to be told...

Tell them.

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Running with stitches...

Scraps.  Lots and lots of them.  Fabrics piled according to color are starting to commandeer an entire corner of my workroom.  Recycled, discarded, second-hands and third-hands, the entire lot has come from being something else.  This idea sits well with me and I think I could spend the rest of my life and never touch new cloth again.

Stitching a few bits & pieces together now, making "components" for use in the upcoming Cloth to Cloth workshop, taught by Jude Hill.  Still working with raw, torn edges...admitting here that I am completely smitten with all things frayed.  

Also smitten with the simple running stitch.  What a restful enterprise coming from a stitch named for so much movement!  Nosed around, trying to learn more about it & came upon this magnificent book:

Kantha: The Embroidered Quilts of Bengal

from the Jill and Sheldon Bonovitz and the Stella Kramrisch Collections

It's the catalog from an exhibition I wish I hadn't missed, on display earlier in the year at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  This is the first book-length study on kanthas published outside of South Asia - 304 pages of gloriously illustrated splendor.  More examples from the exhibition can be found on the museum site here. 

Some potent words from Darielle Mason, the Stella Kramrisch Curator of Indian and Himalyan Art, who organized the exhibition,

"Like American patchwork quilts, kanthas are about memory.

They connect families and generations and they connect

the present with the past.

The everyday lives of Bengali women were seldom recorded

prior to the late 20th century, so kanthas are often

the only surviving physical traces of women's presence,

and the only way their personal voices may be heard."

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You're not in Kansas anymore...

Ventured off the usual blog path today and wrote a little story to go along with this photo...India is up to a bit of fun over on her blog and has set up quite the irresistible challenge to answer this question:  how in the world did that pile of wet AND burned laundry end up on the pavement?  Pop on over to read the stories ~ if you're in the mood for some chuckles, that's the place you wanna be!  

Here's my tale...

You're Not in Kansas Anymore

The Wicked Witch of the West was cruising around looking for trouble, a favored pastime. But the Fitzroy streets were quiet and her disgruntlement was brewing. Where was everyone? Safely ensconced in their tidy little houses, she suspected. With great disgust she fumed and grumbled obscenities to herself, all the while keeping close watch on the streets, itching for mayhem.

The she spied the open door. The launderette was deserted.

Ah ha! This could be the perfect opportunity to wash her colorful undergarments without anyone knowing. After all, she had a reputation to uphold. Having flown half way around the world, she hadn't realized how cold the winter would be in this Land of Oz so she had been forced to don several layers of girlie apparel under her voluminous black cape. Peach colored leggings, an aqua chamise, lavender knee socks, all worn by the meanest, baddest witch of them all?! This was a secret that must never be known.

Dashing quickly inside, the Wicked Witch chuckled to herself (in the evil way that only witches can do), propped her broom against the washer and felt secure in the knowledge that if spotted by any passerby she would surely be taken for the cleaning woman. She went about her task with feverish intensity.

Anxiety rose while the dryer spinned - it was now growing light outside. I must make haste, she thought, and without further ado, swung open the dryer door, removed all her pretties before they were completely dry, put them on and got as far as the doorway...and melted right there on the sidewalk.

Morale of the story: when you are the Wicked Witch of the West, lost in the Land of Oz, remember to dry clean only.

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Mending with the blues

The other day over at her place, Spirit Cloth, Jude was playing with gaps.  This got me to thinking about a few gaps of my own...

...ever thought about whether you are left-kneed or right-kneed?  Neither had I until I realized that ALL of my favorite jeans eventually look just like this -- a big hole in the left knee.  Never the right -- just the left.  Good to have things in ones life one can always count on, I suppose  ;>}

Pawing through the mending pile, the choice for the *sacrificial lamb* jeans was not the least bit difficult.  You should see the derriere on this pair...beyond hope I decided.  Off with its leg!

Thought it would be fun to just play with stitches, no particular goal in mind except to stop the drafts and add some reinforcement so out came a menagerie of embroidery thread recently gleaned from the local thrift store.  Ended up using every blue in the bag.

Kept the raggedy edges all 'round (I'm prone to that lately) although future laundering should fray them up nicely.  In the meantime, my favorite gardening jeans have a new lease on their days in the dirt.  Thanks to Jude for inspiring with her own particular style of "knee keepers."  


I love my new knee.  But look at that perfect RIGHT knee...what's up with that?!  One of life's mysteries.

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