If you look closely at the ground you can see the thousands of tiny wood shavings my daughter produced over our 4 day camping trip. There were no phone calls to make to friends, no planned activities, no texts to send or receive, no shows to watch. The girl had a knife and an endless supply of wood. She whittled a sword, a serving spoon, 2 paddles for floating on the river, 20 some pairs of chopsticks, and a spatula. She also infected the rest of us with whittling fever.
We are not so different, you and I
My husband jokingly called this a potato bird. Interestingly, that name quite appropriately embodies the idea that tickled my cortex into making this quilt. I recently read a short National Geographic article on gene mapping. We humans share a whopping 24% of our genes with the wine grape. The chicken shares 65% of our human genetic make up. I can only imagine that this little Goldfinch and the Yukon Gold potatoes nestled beneath it, have quite a lot in common.
What is going on inside that head of yours?
I grew purple cabbages for the first time this year. I often found myself locked in concentration, staring at their shiny developing heads, and wondering...
nude photography
Her firm subtle curves, her impeccably smooth skin, her impressive longevity with holding the pose, all made this eggplant a joy to work with. She grew in my backyard this summer. You can’t tell from the photograph, but she is over 7 inches long. What a beauty!
battling dust bunnies and personal demons
After a summer of teaching, camping, and do-it-yourself remodeling projects my studio has become a ransacked, dusty, venture-there-if-you-dare area. Although they were somewhat afraid for me, my family returned to school today and left me to work amongst the precariously stacked boxes of classroom projects, the heaps of thread and fabric, and piles of unfiled paperwork.
I have two pieces I need to complete by mid september, so today I forced myself to ignore the mess, clear a spot in the chaos and work. I did it. I ironed, snipped and stitched for nearly 5 solid hours today, my inner boss constantly harassing my inner grunt laborer, “Get back at it! Stop starring at that clutter of old VCR tapes. You can deal with them later!”
When my boss wasn’t yelling at me today I got some time to think, and I came away asking myself: why did I let my studio get like this? When making art is such a hugely satisfying aspect of my life, why neglect the space where I make it? I didn’t come up with any answers but just asking the question seems worthwhile as does breaking out the broom to battle some dust bunnies.
hop hop hurray
I planted two varieties of hops this spring, fugle and cascade. Yesterday I had the immense pleasure (first time ever) of harvesting hops. They twined way up into my neighbor’s plum tree so I was up on a ladder plucking these fragrant little rustling green beauties for an hour or so. Their bright skunky scent made me heady and hopeful. The little rustling skirts sound each one made as I plucked it from the vine conjured images of groups of girls in fancy dresses. The little golden pollen filled pockets I discovered tucked beneath each petal felt like intimate and precious treasure. By the time I climbed woozily back down my ladder I was in full day dream; dancing at a fabulous and extravagant wedding celebration. How fitting it felt then, when in search of breathable fabric to rig some sort of hop drier, I found my sister’s wedding veil!
Rorschach in rock
My husband and I did some deep Rorschach therapy at this campsite in august. We sat at lake’s edge and watched the slow dance of rock, water and light for several hours one afternoon. For me, the reflection manifest a massive alien buddha figure lying on its side (notice the dark bird image on its chest). I’m not certain what Hermann Rorschach would glean from my interpretation but I feel comfortable with it.