Damn Disney!

Damn him! I just got off the phone with my Dad who called early this morning to let me know that my Mom has had a heart attack and is in the hospital. She has been living in a nursing home for more than a year now and has been in failing health for a long time. She's in the hospital and responding to excellent care. Both my sisters and brother are either with her or nearby. I sat down on the couch to absorb all this information and take in a little electronic anesthesia and what do I see? The scene from Dumbo where his mother is locked up in elephant jail and can only reach through the bars to hold her baby while the choir sings "Baby Mine", a very sweet and tender lullaby that I would have loved to sing to my own babies long ago except that I would be bawling my eyes out and scaring the kid.Thanks Walt. So I did some of that and came here to talk about it to myself. Here's my Mom, Rosalie, on the left and Jim's Mom, Eleanor who passed away just a few weeks ago. This was taken at our wedding in 1977. Jim and I both have a keen appreciation for strong women and their accomplishments.

In the Middle of the Night almost

I got just enough done on the new piece yesterday to call it a good day's work. I have to look at it awhile to decide how next to proceed. Hand stitching to replace the basting? Paint to work/rework value issues? Build the sandwich using that new wool batting that I got from OHCO? It's kind of heavy but has the depth that this piece will be happy with. The damask has a love of weavy give. Throw in a dentist appointment (where I finally got my teeth into "Art & Fear") , two loads of laundry, a really good meatloaf, and updated my Work In Progress page for the first time in a year and I felt no guilt about creeping into the sack at 7:30. Of course, that gets me up at 3:45 and there's a long day ahead but that will fly by too.Registrations for HGA's Convergence 2008 are coming in and we are working hard to get everyone's class assignments into the database and paperwork mailed out. June is bearing down on us like a freight train. So here in the wee hours I did a little Follow The Links game and, thanks to a long overdue (and deeply inspiring) post by Danny Gregory, found the work of his mum, Hazel Kahan filled with some of the most exquisite images of leaves, a theme I've felt has been done to death in fiber art lately but newly inspires me find them, make them into my art. And, if you don't already know her, come by and see Anne's work. The next time y'all start whining about not having the studio space to do the things you want to do, think of Anne and get on with it! Here she is in her "wet" studio. That Green piece just knocks me out!

the Flibbertygibbets Bowl

I wandered in and out of the studio today just puttering. This square yard of mayhem came out of my Flibbertygibbets bowl below. My Grandma used that word to mean "little bits and pieces of crap that you've gotten on the rug that I have to sweep up" (Here is someone else's take off on that word. I don't get the connection but she's hilarious.) It was packed pretty tight in there and so time to weed the bowl out. Meanwhile, my buddy Jan Thompson has taken to the torch like a duck to water. You could probably talk her into selling you some of these beauties.

Dogpaddling & SlowCloth

This little duck pillow is finished. I'm not thrilled with the way the velcro closure looks so once I find the right herbal stuffing for it (just fluff inside for now) I'm going to remove the velcro and sew it shut. The way it is, it feels like a hiding place for valuables instead of something small to be cherished for it's own sake. I'm not sure this whole "slow cloth" thing is for me. At this moment in my life, too much contemplation seems to lead to sadness which is probably why I'll spend the day folding laundry and any other mindless tasks I find. Try to be useful. Then again, it's that time of the year to make decisions about what pieces to enter into all the various venues out there that are just warming up. So there is paperwork to be considered and, once it warms up, photos to be taken. Thanks to all the folks who make this information public. Thanks Pam, for this one and Mary Macbride for this one. Sewing sleeves onto interesting backsides is necessary and productive.

Strange sights & freebies

I drive past this doorway each morning on the way to my office. It never fails to give pause. I think about where it came from, what it's life was like, it's death and why. On a lighter note, a recycling one, I was given a huge batch of what appear to be poly carpet samples but (for once) presented in a way that some fiber artist somewhere could possible make use of them. Here's a link to an overview of the whole batch. If you want any, send me an email. All I want is a flat rate prepaid postage envelope. I could probably stuff 20 into one of those. First come, first served and I'll try to accommodate color requests but as you can see, carpet colors are generally on the neutral side. I pulled that strand loose from one of the bundles and it measures 8".

Appliance Demise

How's this for a fresh face. It was taken on the day I interviewed at the School of Visual Arts. The felt hat was screaming yellow and the rayon paisly print dress a riot of turquoise, pink, lime and yellow. Hey, it was 1967! That gets me to the hair. I had not yet given up on fashion and my naturally bushy hair required major taming to be picture ready. I didn't iron my hair like some (terrified of that burning stink) but I did sleep sitting up with it wound around orange juice cans. Tomato paste cans were just too small. One year down the road fashion would find me in a do-rag, torn jeans, theatrical eye makeup and army surplus fatigues. Very early grunge. A few years before this picture was taken my Mom gave me this set of electric curlers for Christmas. I loved the speed of the dramatic change they could bring but if I didn't get them out of my hair at just the right time (more often than not) I wound up with a head full of banana curls that any Victorian doll would kill for, which would stay bouncing around my head until I washed them out. After all these years of faithful service, this great little appliance kicked the bucket on New Years Eve just as I was getting ready to go out. I had left my goat-chewed looking hairdo until last minute, counting on them as usual for a bit of glam, but when I plugged them in this time, instead of the tick-tick-tick of the heat rising, they sat cold and silent. I'm sad. 40+ years of hair doing. Model KF-20 I salute you! I think I'll send the Clairol folks a note....

Mandala

It's a day for finishing things. I couldn't get any of the usual suspects to pose on this (I think they are waiting for a nice juicy hurk to come on first) to show some scale but it's nearly 4 feet across and has to weigh 15 pounds. (Click on the picture for the full effect) I love this because I can account for each piece of fabric that has gone into it. For instance, that tortoise-shell looking ring halfway from the center used to be a beautiful batik scarf that my sister Kitty gave me years ago. Sorry Kit, it had an unfortunate accident in the laundry - I saved the beaded fringe for another project though! The very dark rings at the outer edges are two pieces that dyed puke-y looking and then over-dyed too fabulous to hack into until now. That hot rose eye? - one of my earliest overdoses of fuschia. I have a show in mind for this one, believe or not! Crocheting this thing has prepared me for a second career as a strangler, but now to rest my weary paws and get busy finishing the Black Duck even though the saintly agenda says I'm supposed to be sewing on sleeves for my "Visions" entries, as yet un-photographed. Yawn. DEADLINE FOR RECEIPT OF ENTRIES - JANUARY 12TH - seems like a lifetime away. At least I've confirmed that I'm still a member.

New Year's Out!

For the first time in about 30 years (we put our heads together to confirm this) Jim and I went out on New Year's Eve. It wouldn't have happened except for the fact that Jim's most favorite band, Poco, was playing at a local eatery. The cover charge was steep which guaranteed a house full of real fans and music lovers. I told my Dad over the phone that "The Swallow at the Hollow" is the kind of place where it's OK to eat with your hands - they boast the best BBQ anywhere, anytime. Neither of us are huge barbecue fans but we were there for the music and a great time was had by all.