handstories

Swatches

    I’m working on a new book of blue. There are piles of blue scraps all over the table. It’s kind of like working in an ocean.

    We celebrated 41 years yesterday. Who would’ve ever thought?!

    I found this picture in my phone yesterday.  No idea when or where?  We spent time last night trying to figure it out… his glasses, the mustache, and I’m still wearing a retainer… 1987-89?

    K went to New York with his sister last week.  Jokingly, I told him to visit a fabric store.  He took me seriously and off they went to the garment district. Walking into the first door and completely overwhelmed, he noticed the swatches hanging off of the bolts. He asked the man if he could buy a few of them?  No.

    Three stores later, they were handed scissors!

    What a fun surprise!  (Acorn from Central Park.)

    Painting has been in swatches too. Choosing a red, blue, and yellow and seeing how many different colors I can make from them. This time it was pinkest pink, golden, and indigo (first three top left).

    There are so many things started…

    Happily, time and things keep on going...  (On our anniversary road trip last year, at the spot where two teenagers had their first kiss in the spring of 1980.)

She…

    The booklet that I mentioned last week. I suppose most of the things that I make our self talk. Everything is everything.
    Here is a link to the video. 

 

Thinking

    As usual, I’m all over the place. Stitching here…

    Practicing birds…

    A few words…

    Another ship…


    And today, thinking about practice and process…

   It may not look like it, but it's a purposeful experiment. 

   Somewhere inside of connection and story.

Start where you are.

        This place has become forlorn, sorry.  It took a while to get the photos to load today.  I'm also sorry to say that Instagram is so much easier.  I'm Here if you care to keep track over there.

        Things are good. Busy.  Trying to move towards healthier feels like a part-time job.  Walking or swimming every weekday morning takes up five to eight hours a week- a workday.  I do feel better.

    I'm all over the place with making.  Stitching moons, trees, boats, etc... and a few larger pieces.  Looking through unfinished things, I found these...  (Sorry for the bad photos.)

    I think they were meant to be pages.  Made a few more...

    Turned them into a booklet.  You can see it Here.  Remember that small series of books that I made ten (?) years ago?

    Books also happened at the Studio this week.  Every week, artist Brette looks for whatever is new and shiny.  This week it was pretty papers and a hold punch (I should write about the week she discovered a small set of old rusty carving tools. That took some fancy dancing with words to get away from her!). 

    She made a tiny book.

    And gifted it to me.  She rarely keeps things.  It's all about the process.

    The beginning of a new book.

    There are other things going on too, including more time reading, knitting, staring into space, and rearranging agates.

    I'd like to say that I'm going to do better here, but who knows? 

Blue, Books, Blanche, & Boats

    Indigo did happen, but I timed it wrong, forgot about a zoom appointment.  The result was meh at the hottest (whiniest) part of the day.  The main goal of blue wrapping cloths for the shop was accomplished and there were a few of these overdyes that made me happy.  (I wonder if I will ever stitch a piece that turns out straight with 45° corners?)

    There was another unexpected happy place... I've been thinking about zines, small books, as a way to bring some things together- stitching, painting, writing.  Also, a friend likes the boat paintings, so I've been thinking about how to make a little book of them for her.  On Thursday, a favorite artist/teacher of a friend posted a photo of blue papers with the words "the sea" announcing that he was teaching a zine class... sold!

    I meant to work on the boat idea, but Grandma showed up.

      Her name is whited out here for privacy, but it's a long list... Blanche Ione Sp., Sh., W., St., St., and Ab.  Born Sp., married Sh. (who died while she was pregnant with my mom), married W. (who only lasted for six months when Mom was in first grade. A mean man.), married, divorced, re-married, and re-divorced St., and then Ab was her on-again/off-again boyfriend in the later years.  (She said that she was done getting married.)

    I loved Grandma, but not her cooking.  I remember begging to go over AFTER dinner.  You never knew what would be on the plate.  Especially when it was a last minute invitation, which meant one of the old-timers at the bar had offered some of their catch of the day. 

    The frog legs were chewy.

    There's a growing list of ideas for more bite-sized booklets of Blanche.

   

    And the boat idea was begun...  It was a really good day.

In Seattle & thereabouts

    There are days when you just need soothing.  Stitching this silky moon from Jude was just that.  Like stitching water.  It grew into the tenth moon cabin block.

    Favorite fabrics, some took a while to find.  Somebody really needs to get some ducks in a row over here.  That pink cloth looks like it might be too much, but I'm hoping it will be balanced out once it's surrounded by other blocks.  Or it can come out later.

    A visit to the Bainbridge Art Museum...

    Upstairs, in the Sherry Grover Artists' Books room, there is an exhibit going on... "Every Day & Special Days".

    What a happy honor to be a part of it!

    And to share a space with so many wonderful works, including dear Velma.

    There has been some searching for my best Self .  She seems to be M.I.A. a lot lately.  It seems Moon and I are working hard to create many memories that we will hopefully laugh about some day.

    Also on Bainbridge Island is the beautiful Bloedel Reserve.

    Most of the photos I took were of water.

    I just love this willow.  It holds the memory of another willow, that held a memory of another willow for my mom.  All of the willows held/hold happy moments.

    The day ended with a beautiful ferry ride.

    Wishing you the bluest skies.

Here

    So it seems photos come and go now... me, too.

    Back to the murder nightmares, balanced with dreams of making salads and trying to host parties while having the house evaluated/judged by a stranger.

    If you have Netflix, do watch "My Octopus Teacher."  It's beautiful.  It brought back so many water memories.  (Including skinny dipping nights in the Pacific with a girlfriend back in college.)

    The "Rhythm" booklet has found a home, it is now a part of the Bainbridge Island Museum of Art, Cynthia Sears Collection!  Inspired by Langston Hughes' wonderful book, The First Book of Rhythms, creating it was a meeting place of a love of books, language, cloth and stitching for me.

    Many of the techniques in Jude's workshops were used in the making- weaving, integrated applique, cloth layering, etc.  I'm full of gratitude to her, Velma and Catherine who have all had roles in guiding the way.  This community is a heart filling thing.

    There is a video of looking through the book over on Instagram, click HERE to see...  Also, you can click on the "Rhythms" category below to read old posts about the process, if you like.

Dreamy

         After watching the full moon rise the other night, there was a really good dream.  K. was surprised, and couldn't remember the last time that had happened.  He's right, they are usually murders and mayhem.  But this one was lovely, with an edge of sadness, but even that was ok.  I was a widow, and had made a tiny handmade paper book that was to be a gift for a new love, who was both a prisoner and the jailer at the same time.  I came to visit each day, sitting in a tiny cottage just outside and stitched while we talked and sometimes danced.  Once while turning slowly to the music, I wept, remembering my first husband.  There was a pregnancy, too.  We watched as the baby rolled and stretched in my belly.  During all of this there was wondering about what to put into the book... pressed leaves, paintings, poems?

    In the morning there was a little more work on the tiny book.        The next night's stories were of visiting Wes Anderson sets-  rooms with pink walls hung with pretty paintings and antlers... all the while trying to convince family members we weren't so different.        Then, in real life, but just as dreamy, came wonderful mail from Deb Lacativa.  This sky is just a bit of a length of cloth that holds so many stories waiting to be stitched, and I wish you could feel and see how silky and soft that moon cloth is.        And I am absolutely in love with this beautiful piece.  I just keep carrying it from place to place with me.

All Stitched Up

    This weekend was the opening reception for the "All Stitched Up" Book Arts Exhibition.  

    I'm very happy to have my "Rhythm" booklet included in this beautiful gathering of artists books "celebrating the work of book artists’ where stitching has become an integral part of the visual design... To stitch is to join together, to mend, or fasten as with stitches – to sew. To stitch is to bring together fabric, paper, wounds of the body, or cultural divides. Stitching can be an act of healing, hope, practicality, creativity, and revolution."

    I really appreciated and admired the creativity of the many artists who went outside of the traditional book shape...

    “Stitching the Forest Together” by Lucia Harrison

    "Trial By Fire" by Catherine Alice Michaelis

    "How a Bandage Works" by Lucy Childs.

    Really wished I could have flipped the pages of this one, "Embroidered Stories of Migration" by Ricardo Gomez, Angie Tamayo & the Jluchiyej Nichimetic Cooperative.

    The exhibit of over fifty books is lovely- in curation, display, and in the variety of medium, techniques and stories that each book holds.  It's an honor to be a part of it.

hills & waves

    Things are their usual end of the school year busy.  

    In spite of the supposed-to, should, could, meant-to-do's...I started this.    

    I'm not sure it will work, but it's worth a try.

    Five weeks until school's out . . .

    (The hill and a the thread of few trees were dyed by Deb, and that blue printed wave up top is by Blandina.)