Of two minds

I was in a bit of a tailspin through the month of June but I've pulled up and set my feet back on the path. Consider the alternatives.

The baby showers are bearing down on me so I kicked the quilt making into high gear. The hand work - nothing fancy, just some very utilitarian stitch-in-the-ditch, felt good. A mild mind altering drug.

 It puts me in a place of no think to the point that I have to double check where I am at every corner's turn. Don't want to wander off course on this one.

This is where the real high comes from. The writing space.  After a week of not writing (or doing much of anything but taking an extended  wallow in sorrow and self- pity)  I was asked to write a deposition for a custody case.

I was given the facts, the groundwork for the piece, and from there I swung for the fences and it looks like my words may have made the difference for the clients.

While I was writing it, I found myself in a place of strength and competence that I  had forgotten about and it felt good. Felt like high test juice. Felt like something I need to do every day like any good junkie.

frayed

Summer, life, has left me frayed and unraveling and I have been unable to pick up the stitch.

Many friends have offered suggestions, all good, and I thank you all.

There will be time off for bad behavior.

building some Love for Charlie

Once I got past selecting the fabrics I was happy that the groove was easy to find and Big J was in tune with the project after so much neglect.

Since this blanket is going to be used, washed and dried several times a week I'm only using the best commercial batiks and cotton broadcloths. Now to find something suitable for backing...                                                                  




 I find I'm looking forward to              hand quilting this one...nothing fancy. Just lines of love.

Preoccupation

Moses and Jake 1986

I've been occupied with so many other things lately. Lost picture books being scanned, preserved. Walking, swimming, writing..anything other than picking up cloth and stitch. Is there an aversion there? I'm thinking maybe. I open the door to the studio and all I can see is the past. Nothing potential calls me.
Big changes? The summer weather? Who knows. It is what it is. No apologies here. Just Life.

store update

I've added some larger pieces to the store. These are all vintage damasks (and some linen)  that have been hand dyed with Procion MX dyes using a combination of distribution techniques.

 This batch included coarse grain salt and some split peas. This piece and few others were also discharged.

see the rest here

news from the burning dyedeck

Since my brain is still on vacation  (taking a few sick days too} I thought I'd take advantage of the heat today but it got the best of me in short order.
I needed to see some texture after all the pure color in the last group, so I found a box of clumped up salt and a bag of split peas to bring into the fray.

 There are a lot of vintage tablecloths and napkins awaiting transformation and every thing you see here will be available in the store  as I get them washed and dried, hung and shot...Sorry - there will be NO ironing!!  You'll have to discover how different this cloth looks once it's ironed for yourself!

pending dyefest

Can it be cloth~?

Yes it is. My sister Kitty sent me a fat box of vintage table linen and it's in the washing machine right now shedding years of starch.

The weather is holding brutal hot here, perfect for getting the most out of the colors I already have on hand and some textures that I have been missing.

There's a lot of hurry up and wait during the dye process. I can keep myself occupied.

father's day

Here's to the men in our lives who made the difference in who we all came to be.

Caesura

~back next week~

celebrating a life

Today would have been my Goodman's 59th birthday. He loved a party, but never for himself.  It's your turn now, baby.


 In the spirit of Having A Good Time I have to get busy with the preparations. Jimmy was a superb host on the rare occasions that we entertained. I usually just stood by and took orders. It's on me now so I better get back to work.  Updates next week.

derangement

"...one wants a room with no view so memory can dance with imagination in the dark."  
Annie Dillard


And if writing from inside the trunk of a car will get you a line like that, lock me in. I may write that on the inside of my left arm with a black Sharpie and pretend it's a tattoo.

After spending the entire day cleaning things that may have never been cleaned, I was sitting in my office wondering what to do with the piles of papers and books on the floor left behind when Colin took the spare chair downstairs to make the living room a little more livable.

I remembered this bookcase languishing at the back of a walk-in closet. It was heaped with stacks of clothes that are now headed back to Goodwill.  Not a whole lot easier to move empty, I could club the numbskull who decided to slap a coat of white paint over the beautiful maple. Someday I will fix that. Someday.

As you can see by the morning light, this is no windowless cell. If you can say anything about people based on what's on their bookshelves, well good luck to you. I'll bet you picked the real winner at Belmont yesterday too.

truce

Heather at True Stitches wrote a post yesterday that got my attention. Greedy me, my take-away from a courageous and self revelatory post was

"...But the pleasure and solace of stitching endured, and nurtured my soul, and grew to become something where I could lose myself and find myself again."

 .... losing oneself to the cloth. It's not exactly what I'm looking for but I have to find a balance for my creative energy.

Writing fiction, the way I do it anyway, will turn you into a full blown zombie.
 I have to go there and be with these people, and live in their world in order to bring the words back alive.  It becomes all consuming and probably not healthy.

 The pleasure of tramping the park trails is not about the benefits of the physical activity. It's nice, but it's getting awful damn hot in Georgia for this Yankee. My real payoff is the fistful of notes that I come back with each time I go out, deliberately with a blank slate for a brain.

I was only half mile out on the Spur today,  leaning on a railing and scribbling on a piece of paper when this Lycra clad hussy blew by me in a cloud of something eye-wateringly sweet and said over her shoulder "That's not burning any calories, hon."

All I can say is that it's a good fucking thing she wasn't on a loop to pass me coming back the other way. I'm not usually lost for words, unless I'm lost in them, otherwise I'd be writing you from the back of a patrol car.

 As soon as I can, I'm going to make some order into the studio and turn my attention to the larger unfinished pieces, Blue Horse here pinned up over Fierce. For now,  I'll let them watch me.

In the Clutch

For those who knew us...this is Wedding, Day Two.  No kidding!
Maybe that's what it really takes to get a good long run.

All the kindness that flowed from all over the world yesterday was deeply appreciated. How does one not celebrate? I even bought myself marked down flowers from the grocery store. Jimmy would have been proud of the deal I got on a dozen perfectly matured roses and a mixed bouquet. I had flowers all the time. I will continue having flowers.

No eye candy today - we at House of Lacativa are officially under the gun with one week to go before welcoming out of town guests. Where is Martha Stewart when you need her?

Since last December it's gone from bad to worse around here. There's no denying that Jim was a pack rat and a collector, Colin remains an outright hoarder and I simply acquire raw materials.  Those are hard things to change overnight, but the delivery of a 12 yard Dumpster the other day will be a big step.

I'll be missing from here until the 15th if I'm smart.

I know that having company is good and partying is even better, but it's HELLA stressful.  I miss my chef and master party planner.

June 4, 1977

Okay, after this, can we send them all home?

and this too

June (sigh)

...and so begins our celebration month, forever changed.

Today is Jake's birthday. In a few more days,  what would have been our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary, then  Jim's birthday, Father's Day and Colin's birthday at the end of the month.  I'm gonna have to work hard at this one. One day at a time.

Jimmy would be particularly proud of how Jake has stepped up to being a good man, a good husband, and soon, a good father.

off roading

I got a little bored with my trek yesterday morning and took an unmarked cutoff through the woods. (cue the scary music)

after a quarter mile or so, what I had hoped was the rough sketch for a new trail back to the park turned into what could easily be the setting for any Zombie movie.

I was well into this zone before I realized that I was alone on the darkside of the moon. I didn't investigate anything here more closely: I didn't really want to know what might be lurking so I pressed on,  picked up the raw trail on the other side of the desolation zone and made my way back to the park only mildly freaked out. Next time, I'll bring a film crew.

Shop update

There's a new batch of hand dyed threads in the store.

It's all I have time for right now...

Le mot juste

Yesterday was full of blessings.

A big item came off my "to do, or get done" checklist..you know the kind of checklist that rides around on your shoulder like a poorly trained monkey, picking at your hair and harassing strangers in public. Thanks to both my sons.

Then the mail brought reminders that, although I have cut myself off from the world at large for big chunks of the day, there are  people who think about me and the caring comes through.

I am deeply grateful for all of you.

The mail brought gifts! There was a box of very precious vintage linens and another with inspirational art and seeds to help my poor bedraggled garden.  Thank you N & D.

The translation of the title of this post is "the exact right word or phrasing". Of course, right is  always a matter of opinion, but the only one I'm counting now is my own.  I'm finding that, although there is nothing instinctual about writing fiction the way I used to work in cloth and thread, finding those right words is even more compelling.

My only complaint is, that like working on a piece for Quilt National,  not much can be revealed before the piece is not only finished but juried in.

The process of picking and choosing those right words reminds me of the many times I spent hours stitching away or embellishing something only to take a step back and a hard look and then pick it all out and start over.

You all know what that's like, but I get to do it now without pictures.

production

 I'm well pleased with the results. Now I have to sit with scissors and reduce all of these half shirts to small squares which I will machine sew together but hand quilt it overall.

This will have to be one of those projects that I do while something else is going on. Multitasking has been my middle name ever since I was indoctrinated into the cult by Ma Bell back when I first started working as an operator. Back then, if you weren't doing at least four things at once, they figured they weren't getting their money's worth out of you.

I've let go of that idea in recent months trying to cultivate focused concentration, but for the next couple of weeks I'm going to have to grow another set of arms for the project coming up next. Once these are cut up, I'll have to back burner them for a little while.

now for a beach

I reassembled most of that denim today...no backing this time and little or no overlap. I can lift it with one arm!

 If I can find something I like in the stash that's light enough and large enough I'll face it just for the sake of tidy.

up from the ashes

change, forced

I get pretty preoccupied with this tiny little garden in the spring. It's the only spot on our heavily shaded property that gets full sun all day.  Looking at this picture I'm wondering if I put on this show so folks won't look down the driveway at the mess I call Tobacco Road.  There's not a whole lot of gardening skill going on here. Over the years I've learned which plants flourish here with the least effort on my part, plus the contributions of the dogs in the neighborhood.

For any of you with even a nodding acquaintance with the Tarot will recognize the implied message of the Tower.

 I pulled this one in a one card draw, looked at it, shuddered and ducked the card. One more 'food for thought' that day and I might have choked and barfed. Not that anyone can avoid some situations, but taking the long look, the lessons in the moment are something to be considered.

I asked Colin to take the picture at the top of this post because the peonies were peaking..ready to explode, and a heavy thunderstorm was coming. Less than a half hour later, a small car beat the thunderstorm to the garden most thoroughly. I'm only glad that no one was hurt and a new garden (and perspective) is underway

Clutch your heart! a textile related post

 This morning Colin asked me "Where is the big staple gun?". In the studio, of course.

For once I knew just where to put my hands on a tool, but after hefting that bad boy and getting the evil eye from "Fierce" on the opposite wall, I reached down and pulled "Firmament" out of the "someday maybe" bin which is full to overflowing.

I thought about the stapler and the 36" square canvas that has been taking up space in my life for over ten years. Something will be happening.


Jack said "What are you trying to hide?"

Which is my slick way of introducing one of the main characters in the novel I am writing,  but also one of the questions I am not asking myself.

mother's day all year long

Jimmy and I were both blessed with strong, capable women for mothers. This made them the perfect mother-in-laws too.

Rosie and Eleanor just stood back and let us have at it. There was little to no advice from either of them; they let us think we invented married life and raising kids. I will be forever grateful to both of them. We had it our way and it was just grand.
Thanks, Ladies.

and of course, there's this

denim blues

Remember this?
Well, without my Goodman to rein in the insanity, I spent the rest of the afternoon, paving over an entire queen-size poly mattress protector with chunks of  his worn out blue jeans.

It always seemed like a sin to throw out good denim so I have stacks of them in the closet.

He would have stopped me and said "Doncha think this is gonna be a little bit heavy when you're done?"

I should have noticed that when I was horsing it around under the sewing machine needle.

I took it outside to hang over the deck railing for pictures and it nearly took me over with it. Ten, fifteen pounds? There are eight pairs of jeans here.

So, I just got finished with a quick and dirty dismemberment. Lament not! I'm just going to find a different way to make it happen with maybe a little planning and forethought instead of just plain passion.

Meanwhile, up at the mailbox garden, the peonies have finally started to pop. I hate that this is happening in the face of two thunderstormy days...the flowers will get beat down if the rain is heavy. I may wind up cutting a lot of them and bringing them inside if I can take the aroma. The two different colors have distinctly different fragrances, but both are heavy, spicy and sweet.

rêver

It's been some time since I've held a silent auction. It's time to sell some Art! 

This is one of the four "rêver" pieces from back in 

2011. 

It's 17.5 x17.5 x .25, ready to mount and frame as 

you like. I'll take bids by email 

(deborah@lacativa.com) through midnight on Mother's 

Day.  Let's start the bidding at a princely $83.22. 

Let me know if you want to be notified that you've 

been outbid. Sorry, this round is for US patrons only.

Here are some details:

cloth to the rescue.

I'm falling back in like with this one.

I picked up the needle and thread because I was down a blind alley with the writing and rather than punch my way through the wall, I just disengaged for a while.

Now I have to remember what the inscription was for this one.