When It's Not A Race

Over the weekend, I found myself this close to the finish line on a big task. Then my bobbin thread ran out. After a moment of frustration, I thought how silly that was compared to the Olympic triathletes who had to change bicycle tires during their race. I love the Olympics. Puts things in perspective.

I've been sewing the proofing swatches of my Spoonflower fabric designs into sample collections, both for my own reference and to make it easier to illustrate concepts in my Digital Fabric workshops. I teach that again this week for Michigan League of Handweavers. And I have plenty of samples. So I didn't refill the bobbin and kick for the finish line. Instead, I got wash off the clothesline, went for a walk with Bill and Scout, and watched the Olympics again.

Sometimes it feels like the clock is always ticking and the to-do list never gets shorter. It's August and unpulled weeds have set seeds. I haven't started the deck project. And my ambitious summer dyeing plans? Those withered on the vine.

But I did get a staghorn sumac dyebath brewed from Bill's leftovers. We gathered last week for a batch of wine. Bill scraped the fuzzy berries for wine, and I got the staghorn stalks and leaves for dyeing. After a couple days of soaking in Mom's aluminum jelly kettle, I put the kettle on the stove to barely simmer for an hour or so. Yesterday I strained the liquid, but I haven't dyed with it yet. It looked like there's color left, so I put the solids into bags in the freezer to deal with later. Maybe when I'm back from Michigan.

Probably not. I need to do the things its been too hot and busy to do before it gets too cold.

In the meantime, I'll be watching the Olympics and celebrating the achievements of all the athletes who made it there, whether they get to stand on a podium or not. 

Why So Quiet?

I'm at that phase of single-minded focus before a deadline where meal time comes and all I can think of is frozen pizza. Soon, I'll be finished stitching, photographing and writing the artist statements for this show and get back to posting.

In the meantime, my main leisure activity is brushing skin crack repair onto my stitching fingers. Thank you, Cheryl, and all the chemists who might have worked on this magic elixir!

Holiday Mail For Heroes

A few days ago, I saw on Facebook a post about sending cards to "A Recovering American Soldier" care of Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, DC. I thought I would make up a few fiber postcards over the weekend, and wanted to check the address. A quick search came up with a post from Snopes.com that I want to pass along. In short:

Christmas cards addressed to "A Recovering American Soldier" or "Any Wounded Soldier" care of Walter Reed will not reach their intended recipient.

However:

Christmas cards sent to soldiers through the Red Cross-sponsored Holiday Mail For Heroes program will reach their intended recipient.

You'll find the Red Cross guidelines for this program here. There's more information here. The correct mailing address is:

Holiday Mail for Heroes
PO Box 5456
Capitol Heights, MD
20791-5456

Because of the screening process, Holiday Mail for Heroes must be postmarked by Friday, December 10. That doesn't leave much time, so here's how I'm cutting corners: I did a quick design to print on inkjet fabric. I'll fuse it to stiffener and some wintery-looking fabric for the flip side, sign it, and have it ready to go out on Friday.

You are welcome to use this JPG image if it helps you. To fill out the 8-1/2" x 11" page, I included some stocking border elements you might use on the flip side. Click on the image to open it at full size. Right-click the image to save it to your computer. Before you print to inkjet fabric, resize if necessary so the black boxes do not exceed 6" x 4-1/4", and are no smaller than 5" x 3-1/2". Those are the Post Office's maximum and minimum dimensions. Affix extra postage and ask for hand-canceling.

The stocking borders, by the way, are from a photograph of a plastic canvas stocking my late mother-in-law stitched shortly after Bill and I were married. If she were still with us, she'd have an assembly line set up and be cranking out holiday mail for heroes at a pace that would make your head spin!

Tying Up Loose Threads

On Thursday we put up the New Age Looping exhibit at The Dining Room at 209 Main in Monticello, Wisconsin. This should explain why you've heard nothing from me for so long. I taught the weekend of the 16th, which was wonderful, then spent the next few days scurrying to finish work for this show. Here's a recap of recent events.

A few weeks back as I was working on pieces for this show, I blamed not sleeping on monsters under the bed. Then I remembered that I have tools for overcoming that kind of anxiety. I outlined a plan that would keep me on track for this deadline, and mostly it worked. I went back to using creativity warm-ups regularly, and that helped. I went to bed at a reasonable hour (although I was waking up at 4 am to get back to work). I think I was pretty reasonable in my critiques, even though it might not sound like it since I cut up one piece twice before I came up with something that worked.

I asked for help, and help came. My husband, bless his heart, took off on Tuesday to drive up to McNaughton and get a piece from Joan Molloy Slack from a collaboration we did last fall. I used that piece to replace one I had done for the show but just didn't seem to fit. Bill came home with Standing Stone, plus Oreos, chocolate ice cream, Hershey's Extra Dark chocolate and Gardetto's (I'm all about balance, and you need salty and crunchy to go with sugar and fat). On Wednesday, I called my neighbor Barbara with a plea for help and she was there in five minutes. Despite my intention to do all the stitching by hand (mindfully, you know), we excavated the sewing machine and Barbara spent a helpful hour cutting, pressing and sewing a pillowcase backing for a piece that needed that to help anchor it. When she left to go back to work, I was all set for the hand stitching that melded that piece and the backing. I finished stitching at 9:30 that night.

Bright and early the next morning, Sue and I left for Monticello. It was through Sue that this exhibit came about, and we both have work in the show. Sue is a friend and neighbor who learned looping from me but has evolved a style that is uniquely her own. It was not an oversight that we left home without any of my artist statement or info for labels. I hadn't written them yet. It's embarrassing to admit that I went so unprepared, but that's what I did. I promised to email the info on Saturday, which I did, and the world did not stop rotating on its axis. Go figure.

Sue and I made it to Monticello without any problems from the threatened freezing drizzle. Ruth Knight Sybers of Knitters Treat was there to welcome us, and Rhoda and David Braunschweig were all set to hang the show. We met Wave and Jane, the owners of The Dining Room, and had a lovely meal that evening. Chef Wave's food was the perfect antidote to all the frozen pizza Bill and I ate while I was madly stitching. In the front of the house, Jane is lovely and gracious. I can't imagine a more perfect setting for conversation among a group of fiber artists -- or anyone else, for that matter.

We spent a peaceful night with Sue's college friend Polly and her husband, Jim, in Madison. Polly took us to the Knitting Tree before we headed back north. Honestly, how can you not buy a silk yarn called Ruby Slippers?

For this show, I wanted to illustrate looping's versatility. This collection contains five paired pieces. Each pairing explores a theme with one piece worked in two dimensions and a second piece worked in 3D. There's one additional 2D piece -- sort of a quilted journal page. I've posted the images on my Facebook page, with privacy settings that allow public viewing. If you'd like to see the pieces right now, they're here. Last night I finally got the label info and artist statement sent the Ruth. As soon as she can get them on their web site, you can find them here. In the meantime, check out their past exhibits at the bottom of the Textile Displays page. There's a wonderful piece by Mary Jo Scandin in the front window that makes you want to soar.

New Age Looping will be up at the Dining Room until mid-May. I'm pleased with the work, delighted to have met some wonderful people, and basking in the pleasure of having a big project completed. Now that I have these loose threads tied up, I just need to clean up the mess in my studio (there was sort of a thread explosion in there on Wednesday), and get ready for my next adventure.

Are There Monsters Under Your Bed?

Usually the demon under my bed is so busy battling dust bunnies it doesn’t bother me too much. Except now. I’m about to flip the calendar to a new page in a new year. That means a particular deadline is going to boing off the page like a jack-in-the-box and slap me silly.

I agreed to do something, knowing full well the timing would be a challenge. That’s proving to be true. The demon knows this as well as I do, so it taunts me with the one weapon I can’t ignore:

“Sure you’ll get it done. But it won’t be Perfect.” Shudder.

Yes, I’m a recovering perfectionist. It’s been 30 years since I was perfect, but I still take it one day at a time. And I do pretty well, except for one type of situation. You guessed it. That’s what I agreed to.

The world won’t stop rotating on its axis if I don’t excel at each and every one of the unrealistic goals I set for myself with this project. The only one disappointed will be me. And even that is something I could control, to some extent. If that darn demon would just pipe down.

The only way that’s going to happen is if I take drastic measures. This is where my husband says, “You mean, do all the stuff you would have your students do?” Exactly. So for the next few days I’m going to post that stuff – not my specific situation, but the process I use for working around the monster.

But first, I’m going to vacuum under the bed.