winter

It snowed a little bit last night. Just enough to send the native Georgians screaming to the market to buy the last loaves of bread, gallons of milk and 12 packs of beer they could get their hands on. I keep forgetting to set up my roadside stand at the first mention of a few flakes. I could sell all the above for three times the price right out of the trunk of my car out on highway 29. As punishment for my superiority and lack of compassion, I've finally succumbed to the cold that's been thriving in everyone I live and work with. My throat was sore when I went to bed last night and Karma climbed up to sleep next to my head which is a clear signal that you better have your affairs in order. Remember Oscar? Karma only cozies up when you are sick - then she hands you off to Oscar but I'm home from work today making a little kitchen magic (discharging and dyeing - you didn't think I meant cooking did you?) and poking around in the studio just brewing something mentally. Rummaging through the stash, pulling out this and that, casting about through those Left Ouevres trying to catch a Whiff or a Glimmer, just in case you ever wondered about the title of my blog. Alka Seltzer for Colds is my drug of choice. Remember this and this two classic pieces of "What was she thinking?" As both were constructed with high loft poly batting making them near impossible to quilt, I donated both of the to the Gwinnett Humane Society as blankets for the beasts in residence.

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....