And then there’s Chef Andres, feeding people along the border.
And meanwhile, Andrea Chalupa and Michael McFaul just appeared on MSNBC and uttered cautions about getting caught up in the energetic bravery of Ukraine’s people and the show of solidarity throughout the world. Putin means business, they say. Chalupa worries about genocide.
More locally I can report that it’s 19 degrees here but sunny, so K, Finn, and I enjoyed our walk.
Not heading out to the the ballet (who is?), this little arts-enthusiast is off to Connecticut.
I can tell I underpriced her because I’m having trouble letting her go. She’s one of my favorites.
A big gardening day here today. I was supposed to help a friend with her foundation beds earlier, but neither vehicle will start.
Note to self: once charged, be sure to drive each vehicle once a week!
Walking over at the school the other day, two things made me pause. The first was ANOTHER dead bird.
The other was the height of a tree, which I sourced, fund-raised to purchase, and planted back in the day. It was four feet high back then. If you squint you can see the dead robin on the sidewalk where the path turns.
It’s too close to the building. A newbie mistake. Still, it’s lovely.
I thought it was a Harry Lauder’s Walking Stick, but now I’m not sure.
These creations have a way of taking over. Are they gifts? One or two. Do I plan to sell them any time soon? Nah. Never mind — they demand to be made.
I machine stitched that pink and white kitty head and soft mauve body (below). She’s going to be a gift for the girl I babysit one day a week. I love that her ears are different colors and that her face has that triangle of pink. Soft, old wools help. I was hoping she would wear that pink satin skirt (to the right), but she has other ideas. More sporty.
Today we went to a Big Box store primarily to buy nuts for baking (yes! Christmas IS happening) and (somehow) managed to buy $450 worth of other stuff while we were at it (not counting booze).
A case of wine and bourbon fell out of the hatchback and landed on my foot in the parking lot. Incredibly, five bottles survived the crash and luckily, one of them was the bourbon. Ironically, fifty dollars worth of wine met the pavement while I was making sure they hadn’t overcharged us $16 on a package of meat (still agog at the $500 total. I mean, seriously — batteries, men’s shirts, and frozen shrimp notwithstanding).
Last weekend, we gathered with K’s cousins. It was a surprise birthday party for two 60 year olds. Yes, it’s come to this — gag gifts for extra hair and bad joints, jokes about Medicare, and actually wanting to be in bed by nine. Here’s C with H. She moved to the West Coast at the end of the summer and C is moving there at month’s end.
Everything will be LESS this year. Less cookies. Less shopping. I may not even bring in the nutcracker collection this year. Fortunately I gave up card writing more than ten years ago.
This doll no longer looks quite so forlorn. I added more hair, closed up the sides of her head, hemmed her cowl. She’s being shaped and auditioned on a bottle, with a chop stick for stability. I am considering keeping the bottle, instead of creating a cloth body with gravel at bottom for ballast the way I usually do. These are not kids’ toys, after all.
These two felt doggies (below) are whispering behind the curtain. I’d love to know what they’re so giddy about.
I gave the Red Bell Pup to my sister on Wednesday. Her cat may think it’s for her.
Tomorrow, we get our tree. “Less” will govern there as well. We have high ceilings and have typically had gorgeous 8-9 footers gracing our living room. Not this year. I’m thinking small — not table top small, but maybe six feet, max. It’s not just that I continue to feel done in, anxious, and lost. It’s that LESS truly feels like enough.
When I first made this head, the adjective that sprang to mind was ‘snarky’. But I am discovering just how changeable these physically immutable features are. Sitting near one of the Berninas, it looks to me like she is snapping her fingers. SNAP!! Not in a snarky way, necessarily, just an EFFECTIVE way. “Come here!” she snaps. “I have something to show you!!”
We all can be so easily misunderstood.
I am diligently photographing her creation so as to be able to eventually share the step-by-step process – perhaps my first online class? Dollmaking?
I don’t have a lot of experience with hard heads (other than the Mallon side of the family – har har). With a cloth head, hair gets sewn on. I may have to finally get acquainted with my glue gun.
Do you think Craig Ferguson and Geoffrey Peterson would have a field day with ‘getting acquainted with my glue gun”?
What is your most misunderstood personality trait? I would have to say my directness frequently is construed as impatience or rudeness. It’s important for me to remember that even though I like other people to be direct with me, that others don’t necessarily want that from me.
There are more traits in my bin. But one is enough to share for today.
Dressing a doll can be a good place to gather ideas about garments. The blue batik ‘shirt’, here, works off of the garment-as-a-series-of-rectangles idea (recently explored in Jude Hill‘s Boro class). I learned that just by folding the ‘sleeve’ rectangle base in as a triangle, you achieve a class sleeve outline… simple, I know, but it is different to read, study, than to tuck, finger press, and stitch! (That’s Athena by the way, and I think I will give her a weapon or two).
This dreamer wears a fun assortment of charms, including a pewter, retro airplane. I love that plane. But, really? It’s her pigtails that make me smile. They are tied up with plastic-coated telephone wire. Remember hunting for remnants of that as a kid and making bracelets and rings?! If she had arms, I’d give her a typewriter, just to keep the retro business going. The blue floral linen was a dress, probably from the 60’s.
Here the garment idea is the basic triangle-shawl. It is hard to get more simple than that! This pristine doily came out of my vintage linens drawer.
Now the next doll is naked.
Every once in awhile, batik offers its swirls to the imagination in a very particular way. Years ago, I saw a penis in the swirls of a yellow batik, and gave a two fiber-collaged primitive-styled men well endowed figures (here’s one below – not a great picture, but you get the idea).
On the new green female, however, the swirls suggested breasts… and as I wrapped red thread around the waist, it wanted to go up and circle one of the breasts, which turned into a meditation on mastectomy, which a good friend of mine’s sister had had just days prior (did you know that this is a seven hour operation?!!)
This started as the idea that playing with dolls can help one learn about garment construction, and turned into something quite else.