handstories

Listening to myself

    I played with them this morning, thinking about Deb's comment, "There is a sense of seasons".  It happened rather quickly.  Each of them seemed to fall into place with a feel of a certain time of year.  A visual calendar, at least to me.  Thanks for the idea, Deb!

    Something else that I've learned about myself lately... After finishing a project I seem to just run out of stitching steam.  I wander around, sometimes carrying cloth and thread (in case the urge to make happens), but usually it's a nothing day.  Often it feels wasted, which leads to guilt, which leads to glum.

    This time I saw it coming.  When the trees were finished I made a list of doable-things-to-do and none of them were stitching.  Yesterday was spent ticking them off.  Pencils were sharpened, the piles of cloth all over my table were sorted, threads gathered and put back into their places, emails were returned (emails that had been written and thought sent, were actually sent), the missing eye glasses were found (under the cloth), a book was read, etc.  Nothing terribly exciting or productive, but everything that was expected to happen did.  I'm calling it a win!

    New to me bird sounds woke me up this morning- two birds in a call and response conversation, high and low songs, and then there was an old familiar calling from the sea...

    (PS.  The tree tokens will be in the shop this Friday, April 16th, 9 am Pacific Standard Time.)

Lessons Learned

    I had no idea of how this experiment might go, just a lot of wondering.

    At times it was really good, a way of stretching and pushing myself.

    There were uncomfortable moments... all of these bare trunks, naked and waiting for their turn.

    At this point I realized how much I enjoy my usual method of letting the story of each piece evolve while being with it, having one idea lead to the next in the flow of making.  Working in this way slowed things down.  By stitching on so many at once, completing one part at a time (all of the grounds, then the skies, trunks, etc.), it was hard to remember ideas that had come earlier.  It felt a bit like speed dating- just as you're getting to know someone, it's time to move on to the next person, and when they come back around, you can't even recall their name and need to spend time getting reacquainted.

    At the same time, it was a way to notice that there are so many possible stories, that each could go in many directions, and to try to find ways to do things differently, to see something new.

    Even though I doubt that I will do this again, I'm glad I tried it.  It was a really good think.  By approaching things from a different angle, I was able to observe things about my own process, what works best for me, and some of the why's.

    And now there is a forest of friends...

Stitching in & on time

    Many thoughts, and admirations, for Liz while stitching script!

    Serious dents were made in the want-to-do list this week, including finishing a few gifts.  I'm particularly pleased with one of them, because it is done before her birthday, which rarely happens.  So rarely that I can't remember a time that I was on time.  My usual goal is to get it to her before she sends mine in March (she is always on time).  I suppose I shouldn't  be counting the chickens just yet, not before it's in her hands.

    Sleeping awfully, but there was a wonderful dream moment of seeing a favorite student in a musical, something like "Hamilton".  He was so happy in the dream. 

    I just adored him, and got him.  He was a beautiful boy who loved gardening and birthdates, and is on the autism spectrum.  "Hi, So-and-so, when is your birthday?" were the first words out of his mouth whenever he met someone.  He would still know when it was the next time he saw you, whether it was a day or a year later.   In the early years, I would often sit next to him during school sing alongs, because the large group could be overwhelming.  Sometimes he would put his hands over his ears to block out the loud songs and lean into me.  But he loved "Down By the Bay", requested it every week, and was so happy calling out rhymes for the verses.  Gosh, I loved that boy.

    I was thrilled to see him a few years ago, and even more so when he said that I could hug him (not a favorite thing of his).  He's working at a farm now, seemed happy, and was still beautiful.

    I am not a tidy maker.

    Sock knitting is so swell.  Surprisingly and unusually, I could only find one mistake in my execution of the pattern.  Maybe these are lucky socks?

a marmalade of memories

    FYI- I had turned off the comments on my last post, was feeling overwhelmed by technology and feelings.  I just wanted to say how my heart was full, of sadness about Michelle and gladness for this community.

    I made marmalade, because the peaches all ripened at once.  Peach and orange.  It's been more than a decade.  A recipe from an old friend, created in 1991.  I wonder where she is now?

    Pieces are finally being finished.  There's a small stack here waiting to go into the shop, once I figure out how to do all of my self-imposed crazy systems without my computer.  It's more than I want to think about.

    Once Janie and I made this marmalade together.  1993?  A hot August day in her light and airy kitchen.  We had fun.  I miss her.

    More small trees.  They're meeting some need inside of me.  Not quite sure what that is?  Maybe it's about being doable, and that small can hold enough.  At least enough for a moment.

    After a couple of weeks, my computer turned on without the yelling moaning beeping sound.  It's not out of the woods yet, it only types a weird symbolic language that gets me nowhere, but the photos and files appear to still be on it.  So, ok.

    Yesterday I finally called the support place.  It's always a mission to get through to a real person... (FYI- one way to get off hold quickly is to put bread in the toaster and make a run for the bathroom.)  A nice guy.  He listened to the details, asked if it was a glass of water, or was it really wine?  "Nope.  Water.  Wine came after the spill."

    He was encouraging about my files and scheduled an in-store appointment for next week.  At the end, he clapped for my sense of humor, said I was a delight to talk to (not something I hear often), and admired my c'est la vie attitude about the news that it's most likely the end of the line for my computer.  "Of course it is, it's 2020."

    

  As "delightful" as it all was, the call exhausted me.  Afterwards, the toast was re-toasted, tea was made, old photos of the boys were misted over, and then time was spent listening and re-listening to the phone message I saved from my dad four years ago.  It was just after his wife died, two years before he did.

    "Hi honey, just me.  Sorry I missed your call.  I was out loading the rig.  S. and I are going up elk hunting here for a week, and taking off in the morning.  I'm just Designated Driver.  He's doing the hunting.  I can't get around at all anymore.  Anyway, other than that it's... it's going one day at a time.  It gets a little better with time.  That's all I can say, honey.  Love ya.  Talk at ya later.  Bye."

    It's not the bright peachy orange I remember.  Cooked too fast and too long, I think.  Still, it tastes good.

some story of Story

    It was finished on Saturday.

    Most of yesterday was spent curled up in it- reading, knitting, petting the cat, napping, and finally sleeping under it.

    I know it's not a complicated or fancy blanket, but I made it for me, from my stories and those I love, and it makes me so happy.

    There are lots and lots of places where the stitches run into, cross, or weave to and away from each other in odd inconsistent ways. Unplanned.   

    I don't mind.  I kind of like the meeting places of selves from different days and moments.

    My crazy wonky stitches make me happy.  Sometimes they were lines of getting through, carrying on or finding purpose, and other times- like a laugh of "I'm here!  Having a good time, making marks of myself!" 

   It was started in October 2018, because someone told me to make myself a quilt.  I rolled my eyes at her, but a week later stitched the first few squares.  In a blog post I wrote, "Maybe a very slow quilt, a square here and there, of cloths that are gifts, memories, and loved.  A way to hold them, and eventually they might hold me back.  We'll see."

    It's a good blanket.  (And there are a few stories about this old bed to tell on another day.)

Binding Story

    Not wanting to cover up the edges of the squares on the "Story" blanket with binding, I quilted up to about an inch or so all around it.  When that was done, the three layers (squares, flannel and backing) were trimmed even with each other.

    Four inch wide strips were folded in half and slid between the squares and flannel layer.

    A row of stitching through all the layers.

    Followed by more rows, filling in that unquilted inch or so.

    With the quilting finished on the squares side, it was flipped over.

    The binding folded over and whip stitched into place.

    A finial whip stitched row on the front (just to be secure, or because it meant being able to keep going on it for longer).

    This shows the finished edges from both sides.  Three sides are done.  Probably another day or two for the last one, or maybe I'll stitch another few rows into the binding on the back to keep it going?

    No stories today, but I have been working on writing down a long ago travel misadventure, told a friend on the phone the other night.  We had such a good laugh from it, she made me promise to write it down.  It's so much longer on paper, and I'm not sure it's as funny without my dramatic presentation.  We'll see.

    I'm noticing that more stories are being shared these days.  There's not a lot to share with nothing much going on in most of our lives, the same people, activities, walls... day after day... so the past is coming out to entertain us more and more.  Moon has been shocked to find out how many times teenage K. and I broke up before finally settling down, a friend wanted to hear all about my Camp Fire girl days, and my mom shared (for the first time!) Dad's strange proposal.

    I've always said stories can carry us through...

moon talk

    We've become good friends over the last couple of weeks, telling each other stories, making a new one together.

    Jude's big orange moon sings with the stars of Deb's thread.

    Collaborating with cloth.

"Moon Talk"

    She's in the shop.

backings, framing & a little business...

    OK, this is for Grace, Liz and others who have asked... 

    It's a gray rainy day for photos, but here's my three cents about backings and framing.

    I have mixed feelings about covering up all of the stitching on the backs of pieces.  The tangle of threads and knots does seem like a part of the story, but sometimes a backing serves a purpose.  You'll see that I do a variety of things, much of it versions of things Jude has shared over the years, and/or just making do.

    First up is one of my little squares.  They are backed with a square of cotton, using a whip stitch around the edges of the piece.  I wanted a place to sign the piece, and to put the title, which is an important part of the story to me.  Also, it sometimes helps to square things up, if needed.

    This bigger piece was done in a similar way, but with small running stitches around the edge.  

    The "X" across the back doesn't go through to the other side, rather the stitches catch on layers in the middle.

    "Playground" was done in a similar way, but because the backing was flannel, I was afraid it might fray too much, so the edge was turned under on the backside.  Making mitered corners is not my favorite activity in the world, but the flannel felt too bulky to just fold square at the corners.

    "Beyond" is only finished on the top edge, with the torn edge of the cloth left raw.

    The backside evolved, with layers being added to it for stability in certain areas, as I worked, so some of the stitching is buried beneath, such as the first stitchings of the tiny dots across the top.

    As for framing-  Folks have done a variety of things- from having them traditionally framed in flat frames or shadow boxes, with and without glass, to just using magnets to hold them on the fridge.

    This piece shows what I've done for shows...

    The piece is held on with two tiny nails (I wanted something that felt like sewing pins) in the top corners onto a cradled board (this one was painted with phthalo turquoise watercolor).  The bottom is unattached.

    These boards are nice because they can stand freely on their own or hang on a nail using the opening on the back.

    All to say, different things happen on different pieces.  I try to just go what feels right.  For example, at the show, it seemed a more finished look would appeal and be easier to display.  The bigger pieces are sometimes used on table tops, and people often don't want to worry about what could happen to the work if left exposed and handled over time.  Personally, I love seeing as much of the work as possible.  Once, I was given a blanket, and I opened up a bit of the binding to see what the inside looked like.  (I did stitch it back together!)

    I hope this has been useful, please say if I've missed something.

    As for the business piece...  At long last, new pieces are in the shop. (All backed and unframed!)

Story #_________

    "How Stories Tell Each Other"

    I think this one is done.  Maybe a border, but not today.  It was started a year ago, some of the stories have faded, but others showed up.  Today I wondered if maybe all of my pieces could/should just be titled "Story".

    Stitching has been beyond slow this last week, almost at a standstill.  I don't know if it's the shift into autumn, this season in life, or what, but I find myself with very little to say.  There's a lot going on, and not, and last Saturday night, somewhere between the airplane and getting home, my knitting bag fell by the wayside- the yarn, needles, favorite knitting supplies, best reading glasses, a half knit sock (I had just turned the heel), and my wallet were inside.  Didn't realize it until Monday.  Sometimes I just overwhelm myself.

sunshine & stitches

    Seattle is beautiful right now.  My eyes are very grateful for the bright sunshining days to stitch in.  On the way to school, the lake sparkles in the morning light with Mt. Rainier majestic in the distance.  Walking in the arboretum, I keep stopping to admire the pretty Magnolia blossoms and cherry trees that line the paths.  There were also two ravens calling and flying in the tree tops the other day, the first time I've seen them here.
         Some pieces are getting ready for a shop update tomorrow.  The finishing process has become a ritual that I really love.  A quick loose sketch is made of each cloth with a few words or thoughts about it.  One by one, I hold them, feeling and listening for story, until it all comes together...