Little Hearts.... Fabric in my Jewelry...

This morning needs to be soaked in extra coffee. In fact, if I wasn't so committed to this blog, I think I would be mainlining it while trying to take a nap on the couch.... of course that would be difficult with my 11 month old running around so maybe it's good that I'm trying to write.

So why am I so tired? The baby book deadline. I have this fear of not getting it done so I am pushing myself hard. I have 18 days till it needs to be done and wrapped. Depending on the difficulty, I seem to need between 2-3 days for each page. Including the cover, the back pages, and putting it all together, I figure I have the equivalent of 5 pages. So it should be enough. Should be... if I don't get in any serious hand to hand combat with my sewing machine.

So as a creative side trip, yesterday I experimented with some fabric jewelry options. I thought it might be good to have a few more options besides the hand painted jewelry. They turned out cute, I think. Soft and puffy, with old fashioned buttons, stitching, and even a mini safety pin.

So this all prompted the Etsy discussion with my husband. He graciously offered to make my shop if I continued to make weird little jewelry and stuffed animals. I can't help but wonder if anyone would buy any of them... but I guess it couldn't hurt. And it will hopefully motivate me to get more creative with my free time... what little I have with the cute little squawker behind me.

Satan, thy name is Color-Matchy Flower Page

It is official... the second page of the infamous baby book is done! Ok....I lie. It's almost done. I still have to sew on the snaps but that can wait till my hands have recovered...(more on that coming). As you can probably tell, it is a color wheel flower with matching colored bugs. What is probably not as obvious is that it's a game. The cute, slightly rag tag bugs will snap to the flower in any number of combinations including the educational version in which he learns to match colors. Fun and deviously educational...my favorite combination.


Now that I have cheerfully given the "sweet" explanation, let me now digress.... Holy Sh#t!!!!! That had to be the most time consuming thing I have ever done. I am mentally and physically exhausted and I have the sneaking suspicion that I have a brain hemorrhage. I think I will now need a vacation from my back, my hands, and my eyes which are strained from the intense concentration of a woman desperate to bend the thread to her weakening will.


Never in my life have I been more determined to kick a cute little flower's butt. Forget how little and complex the bugs are. Forget the fact that I had the wrong presser foot for the majority of it. The real heart of the matter is that I was cursed. It's really that simple. I must have killed someone in a past life and karma came to reap it's payment in blood, sweat, and bad zig zag stitches. To break it down simply.... the thread broke endless times... the needle jammed 3 times (twice in my fingers... ooof!)...bobbins got tangled...knots spontaneously broke out in fist fights. It was mayhem. Bedlam. The Apocalypse.


Now you might be tempted to think that this in any way dampened my resolve or enjoyment of the whole ordeal. But you would not be entirely correct. While I did have a few fantasies of throwing the damn sewing machine out the window, most of the time it felt kind of like a video game. I like puzzles. Or maybe I really am a masochist. Most likely it's the memory loss after any birth. Now that it's done... I like the cute bugger so much that I guess he was worth all the headaches and nausea. Kind of like Skyler.

The End of Year One...

So Skyler's birthday is fast approaching. It's staggering to think that he has only been in this world for less than a year. I really can't remember my life before he existed.

So naturally we have to celebrate this amazing feat of parenting. I mean that's really what a one year birthday party is for, right? It certainly isn't for the kid. Sky will like the attention but then again he would also like to eat mud. In reality, the first birthday is a parental milestone. It marks a whole year that you managed to keep the kid from killing himself.

In that spirit, Trevor and I eagerly began our favorite activity of any party apart from decorations... creating the invite...

To start we decided on a theme. We both love carnival and circus themes. Deliciously twisted and full of mystery, it's almost as appealing to me as Alice in Wonderland (my absolute favorite in theme and decor). Trev and I especially love the old freak show posters (an apt metaphor for early parenting)...and this became the crux of our design. The colors were inspired by our new favorite toy designers..." B." toys (http://www.facebook.com/B.toys If you haven't checked them out... you have to. Target sells them and the colors are in a word, edible. Rich and luscious not the usual washed out pastels and Crayola primaries. And no... this is not a paid endorsement.)

So we agreed that I would do the primary illustration (done in a bout of brutal insomnia) and Trev would work out the backgrounds and text. The portrait of Skyler was scanned and colored in Photoshop and then fleshed out with layer styles and text. Then my husband pillaged my old watercolors for the giraffe on the back. Brilliant. My husband and I excel at this kind of collaboration...one of the things that drew us to each other. Separately we have very different artistic styles, but together we seem to be able to blend them into a completely new entity. It's almost like our collaboration is an artist in it's own right. And once again... it turned out better than I think either of us could do alone. So good, in fact, that the print shop told us that their designers were uber-impressed (always nice to gain praise from fellow artists). All in all, a worthy declaration of the past year's success. It's time to party and then begin year two of the Skyler Suicide Watch.

Finding the Fun. Relearning to Play!!!

As children, we all play. Unfettered joyful purposeless play. It's an activity we prioritize above all. I remember spending the majority of the day, every day, immersed in trivial pursuits that never seemed trivial then. When did it change? When did I start packing my day with endless chores and responsibilities? When did play become something I could do once everything else was done? 


When we are little we make promises to ourselves that when we grow up things will be different. We will jump on the couch and bed whenever we feel like it. We will stay up late and play as long as we want. We will eat ice cream whenever we want. Then we grow up and suddenly we worry about being perfect. We have to be thin. We have to have a clean house. We have to have a successful career so we can buy stuff that we will never have time to use. We regulate our bedtimes and become slaves to routine. Play becomes the rare minority of our time. We start to forget our awe and wonder.


Having Skyler... seeing his pure enjoyment of the silly and fun... has prompted a sharp look into the dullness that is my present life. It's become, of late, a giant to-do list. All the promises I made to myself as a child have been broken. Even art, once a cherished playtime activity for me as a child, has become one of those endless chores for me. Another way that I can pressure and berate myself. That coupled with a complete lack of "fun" in my life has left me feeling empty and tense. Time for a change.


In my last post, I talked about my newest project.... the baby book. This has been a revelation for me; bringing back the fun, spontaneous side of my creativity. Thus "Bloopy and Needles" were born. These little stuffed thingys are essentially sketches in fabric... born of silly decisions and no real direction. They are the stuff of play and funny enough, they have even evoked the same childlike silliness in my husband. He has commandeered Bloopy for himself. He carries it around with him like I imagine he would as a five year old. He really loves it deeply, with that child that still resides with in him. 

This hopefully marks a beginning. The beginning of my adult childhood. Not the kind that shirks all responsibility and adult trappings... but a kind of balance. A return to play. I think I shall make it more of a priority... top on the to-do list. I think that I will paint my day with brighter colors, trim it with unfettered freedoms and add a bit of fluff and silliness to every artistic endeavor. I will try to honor those old promises.

Branching into the World of Fabric...

When I was young, my mother was an avid seamstress. I was constantly showered with handmade stuffed animals, unique dresses, and elaborate Halloween costumes that seemed to appear out of thin air. It was magic to a little girl. Even as I grew up, I would look in intimidated wonder at the complex tissue patterns, tools, and fabric cuts. It seemed like alchemy to an impatient young woman. Impossibly complex, mindbendingly foreign and seeming anything but fun, it was a language I could admire but would never want to learn.

Now that I have a son, the memories of those homemade gifts have actually prompted me to wonder if hell has officially frozen over. I am attempting the blasted alchemy. As his first birthday approaches, I have suddenly been filled with this desperate need to somehow embody this overwhelming love I feel for that amazing little boy in an appropriate gift. Instantly I was reminded of the soft book I had as a child. It was one of my favorite toys in my early years. Filled with buttons and zippers, flaps and snaps, it was very precious to me. But it was sewn. Oh crap. The dreaded sewing. 

So I am sewing. Oh and of course I couldn't be happy with time-tested established patterns. I just couldn't make Skyler a book that's already been made and save myself the trial and error process of an already new and intimidating learning experience. No... I am not that person. I am never happy until I am pulling out my hair and cursing the art in front of me.

For those of you that don't know me.... I am not that artist walking around with the bemused expression, exuding love and peace in light of my commune with art. I am not an artist by choice. I am an artist tortured by the need to create (usually far above my skill level)...all the while hating the process.... until it's over and there's suddenly a new little wonder in the world. Its akin to birth...(actually I think having Skyler was easier and more pleasant). I am the artist that exudes tension, energy, quirkiness...but in the end...I wouldn't want it any other way.

Anyway.... back to the sewing... ugh. So I ambitiously worked up six pages so far in Illustrator using the prints for patterns and I have begun. I have to admit that it's been somewhat fun....and for me that's something. All the years of watching my mother helped me learn a bit of the language a little faster than I think it normally would but it's still full of start overs and missteps. I have cursed a little and pulled out a little hair but for the most part... it's been interesting to take a detour from my usual painting. 

So here is my first page. It's the button page. The little girl's dress opens to reveal her stitched heart. It definitely came out much better than I should have had a right to hope for with my lack of skill. Of course, my inner critic could tear it apart but it seems surprisingly easy to ignore her when it comes to sewing. I wonder if that's because I never even considered it. This is play. It might also be that this is for Sky... and I know that he will only care that it's bright, fun, full of surprises, and texture. It might be that I'm just a little proud of myself and the little girl who finally learned a little magic.

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