There is just something about Earl Scruggs. When you see him playing a banjo it looks like the way you tickle a kitten under its chin. That’s what.
1. Goldfish. The stars are the glitter that is all over our couch from some exploded art project–as it happened not mine, although it might very well have been. Then it reminded me of that Thoreau thing “fish in the sky.” I can’t decide if Thoreau is just intolerable and whiny, or if he is okay.
2. I did this while my son was wrestling with me.
3. I find this next one very soothing.
4. My favorite subject matter.
5. Getting ready for Tom Collins.
6. One of my favorite memories was when I was somewhere with you, reader, I think it was down in Atlantic Beach N.C., and we were probably either at the Sanitary Fish Market or at home at Carrot Cottage, which by the way was where the tortilla thing got started, and we had the bottle of Texas Pete there–I always thought that was a redneck thing, because I was introduced to it there, I guess, and then I was so excited to be that cool and rednecky when I realized I liked it–anyway, reader, you were like “Texas Pete is my only friend” and then “My only friend doesn’t even have a face.” Sometimes things just tickle you the right way.
I have to tell you, reader, I have to tell you and strongly recommend to you that you go out and lay your hands all over a copy of the book “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain” by Betty Edwards. As one review of it said, it emancipates. It is revelatory. It, as my Dad used to say constantly, gave me a new lease on life. As you remember, reader, he told me that when I told him that “Stroh’s” spelled backward is Shorts. So you know this is a big deal.
To sum up the book, YOU can draw, reader. You just might not think you can. BUT YOU CAN. Yes. YOU. Before I read this book I could draw a happy face and a square house with a triangle roof and curls coming out of the chimney. Now I can and do draw spoons! Witness:
This was the first time, after beginning to read the book, that I sat down and happened to have a pen in front of me and drew whatever I was looking at. The experience was something my left brain has been denying forever. Try it. You’ll like it.
Now I never imagined I could draw something that looks like this, but I did it anyway. I drew this while the kids were playing Mario Party 8 around and on top of me. Just as I finished the outline of the hat, the younger son, who is terrible at this stage of his life, took the hat and threw it across the room, and I finished the spoon in about five minutes–however this spoon drawing is my favorite spoon, maybe because I was not thinking about it much while drawing.
On the other hand, this is my least favorite spoon. This one I boiled and churned over for a long time, and stared intently at, and tried to render detail of, and it did not do anything for me when it was all over. The only part I really like about it is my own upside-down reflection in the bowl.
So in reaction to the spoon just discussed, which I did not like, I then drew the above spoon in about five minutes, and liked that one much more, although still not as much as the one with the hat. I do love spoons.
100 % cotton. No batting. Double-hemmed bias tape for handle, which I hand-stitched shut.
Inside. Reversible. 6 inch square bottom.
Decorative tag made of a fabric I got at fabricworm. com. Lunchtime.
I crocheted these for our babysitter. The yarn I used is something called “Vanna’s Choice” that has a picture of Vanna White on it. As promised, I do love it as much as she does (I guess) for all my projects, even though it is acrylic. My younger son picked out this color at AC Moore and threw it with great insouciance backward into the cart behind him, which action he liked so much we ended up getting five skeins of different colors. This one is not what I would initially have gravitated toward but it was a revelation and joy to work with, the color being interesting and complex and reminding me of a peacock.
The original pattern for these is from www.crochetandknitting.com. You can see the little popcorny kind of bumps below, which is one of the only things I preserved from that pattern. I actually also tried it with a popcorn stitch, which turned out way too big in the context of mitten.
The knobby pattern is made by alternating triple crochet and single crochet. I had to rework the pattern five or more times because I just could not make sense of the directions, so I ended up just doing my own thing, more or less. But the pattern is still great for the cuffs and the idea, so, you know, do that.
Once I figured it all out, it was quite fast–I knitted the second one during the interval between when the kids went to bed and when I did.
Who is that looking out the window on this rainy day?
Oh it’s you, stuffed car. Have you been staring out the window at the rain all day? Really?
Yes, you are standing a little close to us.
That’s all right. We’ll give you a little hug.
Here is the owl quilt I am giving my mommy for Christmas. It is 4 feet by 4 feet square.
That beautiful owl fabric is an Alexander Henry from a year or two ago.
More owls.
That’s the back.
And here we can see how big it is. I love this quilt. It is a flip-turned quilt, that is, has no binding but is reversed like a pillow. It has beige and red ties and I think the squares I cut were 4 1/2 inches. For some reason I cut the batting six inches too short on one end and then I decided, also inexplicably as I have plenty of extra batting, to sew it into the quilt anyway. It doesn’t seem to make any difference. I like that. Also love the owl fabric. Goodbye, reader.
I didn’t like our old school tv at the time, which had the punch keys and the giant dials and the antenna. When the remote control was invented it was like a spiritual orgasm for me. So what’s on tv today? Oh, that show about the bunny again.
Have you seen my business cards, by the way?
I wear quite a few different hats at my business. Astronaut, Explorer, Directrisse, Chairlady, etc.
I love corporate America.
You may recall this bunny from a while ago. I occasionally, when I remember anything, grapple with the problem of what to do with things I make, not like do I give them to Joe or Betty, but when I am holding the fuzzy ting in front of my face, what do I do with it? It is so cute and soft. I want to eat it. Or internalize it somehow, but what do you do? It’s the same issue, I suppose, as the helpless feeling I have always had on a beautiful spring day. How do I become one with the thing? The bunny question is kind of more odd, because I actually watched myself making the bunny, so it came out of me somehow and now I want to put it back in. Anyway. Here is bunny.
So now I am making drawings of the things, and then I am thinking I will make more dolls of the drawing, and then draw those dolls, etc. It’s all kind of pointless like writing the same line over and over when you already know what it says. In fact I think we already see the visible more than we think we do–of course what we think is usually out of the ballpark of reality–at least I would say so. Here’s the drawing:
I’m quite excited to be combining my twin interests of mumbo-jumbo and crafting in this totally incomprehensible way. Let’s go out to the arcade, reader. I want to play Galaga and maybe Ms. Pacman.
Now what could this be?
Perhaps a model of the universe?
Oh. It’s a giant granny square!
See how big it is.
Obviously I have been too busy to tidy up or put on my pants.