Meh

I did not ever get the kind of full-portrait photos I was hoping for, but I knew you'd be sore if I didn't show you the final product. (Did you like how I said "sore," like we're Wally and the Beav?) The clothes were so fun to make, and those bouquets--if anybody just wants a portrait of bouquets, I'm game.

Felty Circles and Tut Props

In exciting news, I have been asked to be guest blogger over at the awesome Sew, Mama, Sew blog sometime in the latter half of August, which will amount, apparently, to a month-long hand-sewing extravaganza (woot!). I'm putting together a tutorial and am reminded how incredibly much work goes into those buggers. I am in awe of crafters who crank out tuts all the time and am grateful for all I learned through their generosity in the early days of my life as a sewer, just a couple of years ago. Anyhow--the circles are a hint about what wisdom (ahem) I'll be sharing in a few weeks. Wait for it.

(Did you catch how "props" means both the tools for making a tut AND a shout out to my fine-crafting friends who share their skills? Not for nothing did I get that $#%-thousand-dollar MFA in poetry, folks. Not. For. Nothing.)

Portrait in Full Bloom

I'm having a devil of a time getting a decent picture of the finished wedding portrait, but I wanted to share a little peak at one of my favorite bits--the bouquets were SO fun to make. More soon--maybe the afternoon sun will do me a solid!

Pansies--me AND the flower. Yup.

Look what we found on the windowsill today:Remember these mystery seeds? (And remember these dirty windows, too? I'm telling you--it's my landlord, gosh darn it. The dirt's on the outside!)
We killed the squash plant, straight up. I mean, we did what we could--even transplanted it to the yard where we hoped the bees would pollinate both the male and female bits, so we'd get veg, but Dad seems to have run it over with the trash bin. And we can't make out what the one on the right (below) is--anybody watch Weeds? I'm a little worried. (It is an progressive school, after all.) But Annabelle discovered this perfect bloom upon waking, and she let out a squeal of delight that made me so happy. This project truly gave her joy--the care taking, the waiting, the prize: a pretty flower, from nothing.
But you want to know the hilarious part? I have two phobias--both nonsensical, completely irrational, but ferocious and constant since my childhood. The first one is big things that are meant to be little--you know, stuff that's over sized. The other? Pansies. For real.

I do--make wedding portraits in felt.

Yup, my first wedding portrait begun. It's fun to try and capture the elegance and joy. So far, no sewing, just cutting, but the formal wear has been dreamy to shape, with its clean lines--and the color palette (pale pink, you say? no problem!) is right up my alley. I'll keep you posted on this one.

It was another rain-inspired day of trying to think of stuff to do inside. I think the earbuds are permanently melded to my child's head from all the audio books she's listened to this summer. And I rearranged my studio, to--get this--take better advantage of the natural light. Ha! I promise to share pictures of the improvements when there is some, um, light. Sheesh.

Love Birds (a.k.a. "Better Than Meds")

Whenever there are more than, say, three big things on my to-do list (apart from the regular bits and pieces like "hem Mark's pants" and "buy garbage bags"), I get a little tense. Such is the case now, and if I didn't already know I'm anxious, the dreams clue me in--the dreams in which all my teeth fall out into the sink or I show up on the bus to elementary school in just my underpants.

Nothing a long gaze at a couple of lovebirds on a flowered branch can't cure, right? Here's hoping this hoop calms you, too. (I know--you guys are cool as cucumbers, but just in case...)

Askew but Cute

For some reason the straight-on shots of this new custom house portrait are blechy--shadows and shiny spots, so here's a couple crookedy ones. I picture you tilting your head in that earnest, interested, slightly confused way my dog does when I ask her a question. That gesture may be the whole reason I love dogs. It's awesome. And logic dictates that if you do it, I will love you, too, so get on with the tilting, folks. (I already love you, of course, but it doesn't hurt to tilt anyway.)
We have been blessed with gorgeous weather so many times in the past week that I've almost forgiven mother nature for the wet disaster that was June. Almost. Hope you're basking, too. You know, tilting and basking. That's how I like you.

Small, Sweet Things

If there is a flavor of summer, for me, it's sweet corn on the cob--I'm actually having quite a moment right now, thinking about family gatherings in July, always a huge, dented, tin-looking pot of corn boiling away, and just now the neighbors are grilling something outside, the smell of the barbecue drifting into my studio, and over the screen of my laptop, a picture of my Grampy, his rakish smile as he leans against the rough-hewn, white-washed fence of his backyard (my home until I was six), at the edge of the shot the willow tree with its low, gently curving, chaise-like bow where I'd sit and eat my corn on the cob or write poems or sulk.
The truth is, I didn't have an idyllic childhood--I was loved, but I suffered, too, as did the folks who loved me. We were poor and some of us were addicts and lots of us had broken hearts and even broken spirits, but a childhood is a childhood, and so the taste of corn, the taste of summers long past, is always bitter sweet. And it's the sweet that sustains us, so I make sure to add sugar to the water when I boil my corn.
(I'm serving ear after ear, this summer, on my new-to-me, vintage corn dishes with matching holders, found at this great vintage shop. Thanks go to this amazing softie artist for the tip!)

House of Dreams

I was asked to create this piece for a book focusing on art therapy, specifically using art as a tool in your own emotional arsenal--to grow, to understand yourself better.
The assignment was to create a piece of art representing the house I dreamed of living in when I was a child. I was always obsessed with that multi-pod house the Barbapapas lived in--you know the one I mean? Was that cool, or what?
I also spent hours of my girlhood drawing "open houses," sort of doll-house-style buildings with open fronts, so you could see all that went on inside, and I'd imagine scads of orphans living together in these stacked rooms, with just enough space for their bits and pieces. I think this hoop represents all this--my cartoon envy, my fascination with doll houses and orphans and all things compact and modular. Primarily, I think it's "a house that can hold all the people," a home with a nook for each of us. Cozy. Communal. Truly a house of dreams.

Report from a Sunny Planet (a.k.a. "My House")

I woke this morning to find Annabelle organizing my fabric cupboard. She's taken a break for breakfast, and let's hope a full belly doesn't dampen her interest in the project. The dog is currently sniffing these piles with great interest.
Here's what I'm working on in the sunny, morning studio.
Please slow down, summer. I have a little crush on you.

Finally--Some Felt Whosies

I know I said no kvetching, but this dear woman has been beyond patient--we're talking candidate for sainthood here, folks.
I only hope that when she gets this felty family in the mail, she feels it was worth the wait.
She made some excellent looking kids--all I had to do was try to approximate her work. ;-)

One Boy's Forest

For the last several days, I have been at work on this bit of woodsy heaven for a special little guy.
Mostly I just get to make felty dogs and kitties, which I love to do, but Meg has given me the chance to make some other critters, and I had great fun making those curly little ferns, too.
Doesn't Finn look peaceful with his pal?

(Now I'm on to a very patient friend's portrait. She hasn't kvetched a bit after having won the prize weeks and weeks ago!)

Wee House with Roof Garden

Here's Annabelle's newest edition to the little city in our dining room. I'm ready to move in. How about you?

Little City--and a Reverie

Yes, Emily (Dickinson, that is)--bees are few. And so is sunshine. June was a total wash--literally, and July (despite a still semi-damp refrain from thundering downpours this morning) is looking like more of the same, so far. But your poem--and making "Reverie" for Abby's Make-Along--has helped to remind me of the power of the imagination.
This dreamy girl and I are both imagining the prairie--in full sunlight.
And Annabelle and I, meanwhile--with our eyes open (no using scissors and such with closed eyes, please) are doing a little city planning in the corner of the dining room. We taped off the city walls--
--and got right to work on the town swimming pool--
--which is where we will head (real-world-wise) as soon as nature gets on board.