Psst...Postcards

You should absolutely feel free to keep those giveaway comments coming on the previous post (I love you guys!)--I'm just popping in to say that there are now postcard/note card sets (with envelopes) featuring my new designs in the shop.
Roundy corners. They are to note cards what reversibility is to pin cushions, right? No choice but to love 'em. ;-)

Brooching (and a giveaway!)

Well--since we last met, I attended my first gallery opening, and the Saints won the Super Bowl. Who knew? You, that's who! (Okay, so you may not have foreseen the Saints' historic victory, but you certainly saw that gallery opening coming a mile off, what with my going on about it in post after post--sorry, folks. Anxiety makes me repetitive.)

The opening was lovely and busy and a little strange--the tiny space so crowded with people and me with my little entourage feeling a bit in the way. But we had excellent Japanese food, and my work looked great on the wall (Thanks, Kim!), and I got to see friends' work at Nachotta, too--gorgeous. All in all, I feel like I now know what the whole thing is about, and I can stop worrying!
In a fit of post-show relief, I'm right back to making stuff--right now, I'm on a bit of a brooch kick, specifically embroidered and beaded wool felt. So fun! The periwinkle number you see up there (still a work in progress--no back yet) kept me occupied through the second half last night.
And the test prints of "Friends" came--I'm pleased, and as a reward for your patient listening and perfect support, I'd like to offer one as a giveaway. They're 8.5X11" photographic prints with a .5" white border, which means they can easily be framed as is or inside an 8X10" matte.
If you'd like a chance to win a print, just leave a comment on this post before Wednesday at 5:00, and I'll pick a winner all random like. Thanks, my dears.

Pink House Press Room (a.k.a. "the squivers")

I have a friend visiting--an old fashioned sleepover--which means not much work is getting done, but I felt like it had been too long since I popped in for a chat, so I'm here to share a couple of fun publicity-type images before heading off for a little lunch. Above is an outfit put together by Ez from Creature Comforts featuring my new beaded, wool-felt brooches. I squealed a little bit when I saw this because it makes my handiwork look so darned chic.
And here's the postcard for the Three Graces show, which I will shortly stop talking about all the time--I promise. This image, with all its enticing thumbnails of things I will soon see up close and in 3D, makes me squiver (a term Annabelle coined in her toddlerhood--perfect for the lovely, shivery feeling up your back when something excites and surprises you).

I'll be back on the weekend with a report on the opening, my dears. Meanwhile, here's hoping something makes you squiver today!

Friendly Toast, Friendly Tute

To all of you who wished for me to have a better day today, thank you. The good vibes seem to have done the trick. Annabelle dressed herself and cleaned her teeth this morning without foot dragging, mirror trances, or moaning. Nice. We drove to Portsmouth and had lunch at The Friendly Toast--yummy and full to busting of mid-century yard-sale goodness (think sad-eyed puppy paintings and Camel cigarette dispensers). Then we dropped off six ready-for-gallery-eyes canvases at Three Graces, and all the while, the girl was pleasant as pie. This particular child always behaves better when out-and-about. Why do I always forget this?

P.S. The "Be My Bluebird" tutorial will be up on Sew, Mama, Sew on February 4th. I can't wait to hear what you think!

Updatish

Just popping in to say two things on this winter Sunday (besides the fact that I'm kind of jonesing for spring): first, I am having one of those hard parenting days, one of those days where I'm convinced that I've gone terribly wrong somehow because I can't seem to get my near-eleven-year-old child to stop arguing with me or whining every time I ask her to do something she knows very well she's responsible for (like putting away her laundry, practicing her beloved piano that somehow becomes a burdensome chore when I mention it), one of those days where I'm angry half of every hour. Do you have those days? Tell me it's not just me.

Second, and far more cheerful is the fact that I've begun updating my empty-since-Christmas shop. All my custom listings are back up, along with sachets, scented houses, and wool-felt brooches. Still to come: wool-felt valentines, teensy bluebird hoops, and whatever else I can come up with!

I'm off to spring the girl from her room and try, once again, to explain to her that she's part of a family, which is a community, and in a community, everyone must do his or her share of the work, including the work of being kind and respectful, so everyone can be happy, etc., etc. Wish me luck, my dears. ;-)

All About Light (fireflies! ideas! full-spectrum flood!)

Popping in to share a close up of that final piece, "Aglow," and to say thanks for all your encouraging comments on last night's post. (I do get a bit emotional after dark.) If I say you're the best, will you know I don't mean it in that weird, car-salesman-sounding way?

The dad is home today, which means I have a bit more freedom of movement, a few extra moments to focus on something besides the kid, and I think I'm going to walk to the store to buy light bulbs (for the light box I'm trying to rig). Such is the glamorous life I live!

Manifesto with Jitters

Well, here I am breaking the cardinal rule of blogging--sharing photos I know are bad, but the thing is, my dears, tonight I just can't help it. I'm in the night studio (a.k.a. my study after sundown), and there's only the glow of the lamp, its robot neck bent downward so its face points right at the vignette you see before you. I finished the sixth piece for Three Graces moments ago, and I couldn't wait to tell you.
I couldn't wait to tell you that I am relieved--because I think they do work together--and a little wound up--because having managed to finish the requisite number of pieces means I'll actually have to go to the opening, stand there with my work, stand up for it and behind it. I want to say this right: I am proud of my skills, of my cozy, loving, quirky vision, of my devotion to doing a thing I love. And I am thrilled to be given the opportunity to accompany these images into the world, to meet the other artists in the show, to talk with them and with gallery-goers about the things we have made. But I am also a teensy-bit tempted to stay behind, here in the room where I keep my piles of wool felt, my cushions full of needles, my paint brushes, my quiet time, a little tempted to protect myself from even the slimmest possibility that something someone says or doesn't say will sting or slow me down.

Of course I'm going. With my sister and my husband and my little girl, in a new dress, with a smile on my face and a mantra: I love this work. I love this work. Like a mother loves a child, you see--not because the child is perfect but because she has come to be, through hard labor, through careful ministrations, maybe through a little ecstasy. Because she is like a map of that mother's days. Because she is a manifestation. I think you'll know what I mean. And that's why I couldn't wait to tell you.