While considering what I could do for the Challenge project to repurpose fabrics, I gave myself permission to search through piles that hadn’t been touched in ages. This is what I came up with – a variegated yellow doily that I believe my grandmother made, and a remnant from a curtain I made. I love the way the doily shimmers against the gray background. I’m not sure where to go from here because part of me wants to showcase the crochet work, and part of me wants to add some beads. Still, it’s a great project for the summer, when the heat makes me sloth-like. If it takes until the fall to decide whether or not to bead, that’s okay with me.
The silk strips pictured above are what remains of two pieces that I painted. After years of sitting in my Good Stuff pile, I finally sliced into them. Now that I’ve crossed that scary bridge, I can actually look forward to using the remnants in something else. I may use everything in one project or just use a bit, leaving even smaller scraps. They are still treasures, but no longer too precious to touch. I can feel creativity filling the space that has opened up now that I’m no longer crushed by the weight of waiting for the perfect project. Maybe you will feel this same relief when you cut your most valued fabric.
I’ve saved things far longer than I should. This is no surprise – not to me, not to my family and friends. What is a surprise is when those treasures find a new purpose in life. The hotpads pictured above haven’t exactly found a new purpose. They are still protecting my kitchen surfaces from roasty-toasty things. What they have found is purpose after years of neglect – a new purpose in their lives. It doesn’t matter to me that they are inanimate objects, they still have lives. My grandmother Georgia Longshore made these, and part of her is in them. I feel the same way about the treasures in my sewing room. I may not have made the fabric, or beads, or threads, but I chose them. Part of me is in them, even if only a small way. After experiencing the joy of using these hotpads, I think I might try resurrecting some of my fabric collections and trying again to make the perfect project out of them. The only thing I will lose is the time spent experimenting in my studio.
There are treasures in my sewing room that have waited a long, long time for a place to shine. Some of them found a home this week.
The wood strips really are thin enough to sew through
The wood ribbons called to me. Actually, lots of treasures call to me, but the wood ribbons are sitting in a box on the cutting table so I pay more attention. As it happened, I had unearthed some satin ribbons during the week. The satin and wood wanted to meet each other, so I obliged.
I also unearthed some taffeta ribbons, and silk flowers which had waited so long in someone else’s studio that she moved before she could use them (quite a few of my treasures are things I inherited from someone who didn’t want to pack up her entire sewing room). I added some buttons and shiny things, and have a new Valentine’s Day decoration.
A new decoration
It’s lovely to have a day when my treasures thank me for remembering them.
I hit my own personal, private trifecta of happiness this week. It started with a trip to the local library for their Star Wars Day celebration. I arrived early, so wandered over to the art gallery. This month’s display was made by local preschool children. The teachers surround the kids with paints, paper, small canvases, found objects, clay, wire – anything to spark creativity. The kids are prepared to create something wonderful, and they do. I realized I am already using this approach by stuffing my sewing room full of treasures, and all I need to add is more time in the aforementioned room to get my hands dirty. Happy event #1.
The celebration still hadn’t begun, so I headed to the stacks and found a book called Classic Russian Idylls by Proctor Jones. It is a collection of photographs, including this one of a swamp in Ukraine.
Why this should be considered an idyll I’ll never know, but it sure is the landscape I wanted to create when I painted this background.
I had an idea of water and horizon, but couldn’t see it clearly. I bought a book on perspective, thinking that would help me get closer to what I wanted, but still couldn’t envision the scene. With the photo of the swamp as a beginning, my next attempt should please me more. When I come up with something I like better, I’ll remove the pendant from the old landscape and put it on the new one, and bead or embroider (or both) the old until it squeals. Happy event #2.
The third happy event came when I praised a display of children’s art in a classroom. The teacher, who had sort of frightened me before, opened up and explained her philosophy of education (which includes lots of time for art). It was our first real conversation, and now we have bonded. Happy event #3.
The moral of the story is you can never tell what the day will bring. You may think you’re just waiting, but the universe is preparing you for something wonderful.
Abby, waiting for the cute bunnies to come out and play
We installed the new bookcase in the sewing room. The hardest part was getting enough stuff out of the way for the move.
Waiting to be cleared
After a very long stretch with the vacuum, we found the optimal spot. I can still reach the stuff in the closet, and most of the design wall is available.
Waiting to be filled
Next came resorting. That actually proved enjoyable, as I consolidated some of my collections, let go of treasures I didn’t need, and found new places to put things.
Ready for business
The top of the case and top row of bins is for staging. With any luck, this will be the year I finish enough projects that all of the piles fit in one cubby or another. Oh, stop laughing.
Amador Valley Quilters invited beading artist Thom Atkins to speak and teach. I signed up for the workshop without asking what we would do. Best plan ever.
Atkins, who wrote Beading Artistry For Quilts, lets the fabric and embellishments speak to him while he is working on any given project. He starts with an idea and lets it develop. His kits are created with the same idea in mind – give the student some fabric and beads and see what happens.
What I learned in class
Atkins actually intended this to be the backing fabric, but it fits perfectly for an idea swimming in my brain for the water project. He accepted my reasoning and let me have fun.
Letting the beads speak
The best part for me during the workshop was learning a new finishing technique – a beaded picot stitch.
The best part after the workshop was discovering another cache of beads that will fit with this project.
More found treasures
Atkins uses a boatload of beads on each project, and encourages his students to do the same. Since I’m already a proud member of the “if one is good, one hundred is fabulous” club, I feel as if I’ve been given permission to fly after years of walking – on beaded wings, of course.
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