Monday, September 24, 2018

disguise lurex irritant

Jackson Pollock once told a reporter: “I’ve got the old Eighth Street habit of sleeping all day and working all night pretty well licked.”

Snapped at Michaels a few weeks ago, and also sent to me by a friend who saw it in a different state.  LOVE it when people do stuff like that, knowing I will appreciate!  Bet these are all gone-  they are maybe 18" tall so hard to store between squirrel holidays.
He comes matched to a few other disgusting scary animals too:

    
 A less intimidating rat----------------AND my nemesis, a giant ugly Bufo toad

Don't tell Michael's I sent ya.

I told you about the bold raccoon who wans=dered up to my patio door the other day, eh?  He never came back in the daytime BUT one day on the steps into the pool was several giant poops where he apparently sat and washed off all the dirty food he found.  Unfortunately the roofing job across the street generates a lawn full of tossed chicken bones and empanadas not up to standards.  So he picks up anything he can carry and comes over her to wash it.  SO, to foil his visits I tied my giant alligator float to a lawn chair and he floats hither and yon scaring away the raccoon.  The pool guy continually tosses the alligator to the side and I have to return him to the float job continually.  AND the alligator scares Molly so she won't even go into the back yard now.  Every solution has it's problems.  But next I'm gonna get a pop gun and sit out there getting eaten by bugs waiting for him to appear.  Then, POW!  That should scare him off and put the alligator back in the garage where he belongs.

The Guard Alligator in position.  Note the string (chain?) that keeps him from blowing off into the hinterlands.

As you might tell, I am back from Boston.  I got home to a schedule I have already messed up, doctor appointments, social stuff, and work projects.  I thought I could get so much done.  But no-  first Ancestry contacted me and said I am 35% Swedish.  No, my dad was always called Swede but nobody actually was from there.  Then my cousin called and wanted to know if I could do anything with our grandmother's wedding dress- she sent it to me so I am pondering on that:
    
 Like Doublemint, there are TWO, TWO, TWO dresses in one.  The first is the cotton inner dress with boning and a flounce around the bottom, and the second is silk with beautiful tucks around the waist (which wouldn't;t fit over my thigh!) and a lace and hassled collar.  In my head I cant imagine that they were worn together- different lace, underdress neck doesn't fit or work well with butter dress collar, odd things to my brain.  Anyway, I have permission to DO something to them.  I never knew my grandmother at this size, always was a short stout woman, but this was worn about 1909 and I didn't know here until 'mid-century', as we say.  

Anyway, that's my challenge now.  And it's fitting that I am also now up to my neck in Ancestry!  They sent me a correction that shows I might be 6% Swedish now, even thats odd- the rest of me is just what I've always been told, English with just a tad of Germanic.  My relatives from England landed in Boston in 1635, no wonder I felt so at home there all that time!  There was also a map of the migration of the family across the country dropping Townsends wherever they landed.  Like salt.  I was hoping for a bit of drama somewhere but it didn't happen.  Now I am going to make formal tree out of a giant piece of watercolor paper showing my relatives and TY's relatives.  He can only go back to grandparents so won't take too much room.  It will end with my grandkids so they will have it if they ever want add to it over time.  

Today I am dropping all this stuff at the studio and hope I can stay for awhile to at least put things away before I start another project.  

So today I will leave you with a Superman logo poster showing the way it has evolved over years.  We'll just call it the ARTY PARTY for the morning, OK?

He must have a personal line to Betsy Ross to have all of these changes over the years ready to stitch up.

                                                              Sandy

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

chrysostom nebularizes acrobatic

“The most regretful people on earth,” the poet Mary Oliver wrote in contemplating the artist’s task and the central commitment of the creative life, “are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.”


This because I am waiting for the stove repair guy again-  all it took was the terror of those houses outside Boston exploding to scare me into finding out why I smell gas when I 
BAKE BIRTHDAY CAKES, usually not for squirrels.


Hmm, apparently not many of you missed me since I've been gone.  Maybe Absence Really Does Make the Heart Grow Fonder and being gone will grab all of you back into my sphere.  Anyway, I have been in Boston for a week, took the 6 AM flight home yesterday to spring the aged Molly from her incarceration.  She seemed to be happy to be home, but is still looking for her dad who snoozes with her in the den during the day and in the bed at night.  She is very tired following me around, afraid I will abandon her again I think because if I move to a new room she freaks out looking for me.  Oh well, I will probably do the same when I'm over 100 too.  But give me biscotti or veal chops instead of dog treats please.

Being as Creative as Possible these days:
It is pretty interesting to see an underneath band give out and the little tails pop out.  Look at about 5:00 and see a little yellow~  This thing is now bigger than a giant grapefruit so most grocery store rubber bands won't fit around it.  I may have to take to tying them together to add any additional.  Or buy bigger produce.

OK, so Boston:  It was wonderfully cool, only in high 70's and with heavy cloud cover so my thin blood was happy wearing sweaters while everyone in tube tops laughed at the old lady.  Told them to just wait and they will be hot all the time.  Then cold all the time.  

After a morning of driving an hour to make it to an U-Pick apple farm, missing the connection to the hay truck to drive us to the picking trees and standing around waiting for the kids to return, we ate about thirty cider doughnuts to kill some time.  
So we visited with 
the 800# (give or take) hog who apparently bites BUT since I doubt he can even get up, I wasn't too afraid.  It wasn't like I had to pat him or anything.

After the farm we headed over to Elias' soccer game and stood around watching the third graders run. Fun to see how good some little kids are, and you just know it's genetics!  Then we were all hungry so headed off to the Ipswich Brewery where we ordered more food than any hefty family should, and of course, beer.  

Unfortunately I cut my SIL out of the left side but the picture he is in didn't show TY or my DIL.  So, this is the whole bunch except Jamie and me.  The star of the family is in her dads arms at the end of the table-  not yet 2 but the sunniest happy baby I have ever seen.  Her disposition must come from her mom, because her dad's side is a bunch of sarcastic beer-lovin'  kooks.  This is a rare picture, we were last together at Christmas which did not involve Apple Picking, Giant Pigs, Soccer, or Beer.

So, today is bill paying, hemming a dress, companion-ing the doggie, and perhaps doing some laundry from my trip.  And getting back on the diet wagon. My water bottle is already half finished.  

Very quickly, we will grab an ARTY PARTY today to amuse you (and of course me too). This guy blew me out of the water...a new take on Book Art.


  

   

   

Johan Deckmann is a Copenhagen-based artist, practicing psychotherapist and author, whose works examine the complications of life through witty one-liners painted on the covers of fictional “self-help” books. These book titles, though often filled with scathing satire and humour, tackle life’s biggest questions, fears, and absurdities.
Recognizing the power of language in both therapy and art, Deckmann successfully forms simple phrases that compress information, feelings or fantasies into an essence, and a truth that has an effect that is very similar to therapy. “The right words can be like good medicine,” Deckmann shares.

Long post, welcome back if you are, thanks for stopping if you aren't!             Sandy




Sunday, September 9, 2018

inapplicably micromixing intertidally

No Pithy Quotes Today, I found 50 of them all in a lump:
(you may have to embolden...)





After you get over that, try this on-
Ordinarily I post my squirrel pictures here and so I have again today- 
Glad I wasn't invited.

Last night I was slaving over my hot stove (really just waiting for a pork chop from the hot grill to be brought in) and a friend called and asked me what time our dinner reservation was for.  I said 7, she asked what name I used to make it-  I said Sandy (because if I always tell the truth no one will catch me in a lie!).    I thought we were done and said 'I'll see you at 7 tomorrow!'.  She hesitated and told me she and her husband were at the bar in the restaurant right then.
OOPS.  Told her they would be pretty drunk by tomorrow.  She wrote down Sat., I wrote down Sun because I made the reservation.  
So, because they were already there, they stayed to eat, and fortunately had a lovely dinner and time, because they are gonna be there again tonight.  (After they got home she called to tell me she had it on her calendar for Sunday but not in her head.  Whew.  I don't need anybody else mad at me.  

And that dear folks, is why I made it clear that you DO NOT have to know those 50 things above-  our minds are already too cluttered to untangle facts-  so from now on they will be known as Phake Phacts.

And because I haven't been posting many pictures of work, here is the project on my dining room table-  remember I told you I am sewing quilts to quilts?  This is the (hopefully) LAST appearance of 
'All The Quilts I Made Before'.

Left side is sewn down, right side still has lots of pins, and my hand is the current pincushion. 

I know, I know-  no focal point, no horizon, no points of interest, no chiaroscuro, no ultimate plan, and limited color choices. And some pretty sloppy hand work.  
BUT it's "every quilt I made before..."  about 40 years worth not counting the ones that sold.  And they are all together here in one place and can easily be disposed of when the time comes.
And I will post one last picture when I haul it back to the studio and get it up on the wall again.  
All I need is a few brawny guys and some big nails.

Before I toddle off to go meet our friends for dinner, I've been saving an article from 'Artfinder' about whether or not one needs to attend art school to be an artist.  There are interviews with those on both sides, and after you read it you can make up your own mind (probably based on your own experience!)  

And while you're there, sign up for their newsletter too.

Frankly I wouldn't have traded my 6 years of art school for anything-  I learned so much in that time about the technical sides of art.  I learned historical references, learned connections and influences, as well as tried just about every medium and material but glassblowing (not available at ole SU back then).  It set me up perfectly to...um... work at the phone company, even though I couldn't type.  Sigh.  Fortunately graduate school got me teaching and that got me into art again since between classes I had all those huge tables to work on.  Anyway, my feeling is art is a practice-  you can get at it anyway you can finagle, but that's exactly what you have to do-  just DO it, to borrow an ad phrase.  The more you do, the more you will know.  Never pass up a trip to a museum or gallery but go alone so nobody is pulling your hither and yon.  Read the wall text, learn the 'story' of the exhibit.  Buy the book if you loved it and want to refer, but even a postcard will do.  Go on the free nights, there may even be music.

You learn art by being submerged in it and the fastest way for that is to go to art school.  If you can submerge yourself, that's great, but take classes wherever you can, don't follow one teacher, figure out how to do things the easiest way because the hard part is the thinking behind the work.  
Love the process.  That way you will learn to love the high (really!) you get from being so engaged that time disappears while you are in the studio. 

No Arty Party tonight, gotta get the dog stuffed into her Thunder-shirt if we're going out and weather is threatening.  Tell me your feelings on the above question.
                                   Sandy


Saturday, September 8, 2018

nickelic touring grillage

“But when we really delve into the reasons for why we can’t let something go, there are only two: an attachment to the past or a fear for the future.” (Marie Kondo)



As you may see from my above reference to Marie Kondo, I've been going through messes and getting rid of stuff lately.  I have 2 desks, not out of necessity, just convenience.  The upstairs loft was supposed to be 'my' space so I got a desk and chair and set up the old computer there because it's synced with the old printer.  Worked fine for a few days until I got damn sick of sprinting up and down every time I wanted to check something on the internet.  The two dogs loved the sprint up the stairs when they saw me disappearing, and a few times one or the other of us fell, luckily UP the stairs and not DOWN the stairs.  
I would power up the old Mac and twiddle my fingers waiting for it to start while the dogs would wreck havoc rolling on the beds and skidding on the bathroom throw rugs.  Dog toboggans.  I'd do whatever I was doing and hear the phone so have to reverse.  Hours later I realized I had been distracted and would then have to go back up to finish or at least turn off the lights.  Dogs thundered up the stairs again with me.  
I needed a place downstairs and just happened to find an old metal office desk that fit in the kitchen perfectly, and brought it home in the Mini somehow- I could fit anything in that Mini!  The laptop lives there for it's final days and it's where I choose to sit when it's time to look something up.  Like now.
I had to Look Up my blog.  Sigh

But back to Marie-  I was working in the loft where I have a big closet which was supposed to be an elevator shaft but I refused to pay for one except for the hole and shaft.  Somebody else can put in the elevator, butI use it for junk-  old photos in broken frames, wrapping papers, the full complement of slides for 300 or 400 quilts plus slides of whole shows I was proud to be in, and still used slides.  My files are up there, mostly containing old Bloomingdales bills and bank statements from 5 years ago. I had boxes of office supplies and note papers and paperclips and old business cards from 1990 with the wrong addresses, wrong phone number, wrong email and website, but they were those cute Moo cards so I 'saved' them for who knows what..  Out they went as I was continually having my JOY kicked in the ass.  But I did make a dent, still need to go back up tomorrow with only one old dog who climbs with disgust that I am leaving the room and she has her appointed duty to follow me wherever.  

What in hell does one do with one's engagement picture, and the giant wedding picture, not to mention the angelic fuzzy formal portrait from college, yup, pearl earrings?  I packed them all up to the top shelf of my closet while I think about it. It's just scary having a 20-something Sandy in my closet judging me after 50 years.  I might have to start using orange juice cans in my hair again.

In the studio, I made a dress out of a cheap dress I bought that fit so I used it as a pattern.  I have pretty much altered all the stuff I like best, there's a whole layer of floppy stuff still left but it's for another day.  Or the inevitable day the weight magically reappears.   I worked on things that were over 20 years old which probably should have just been used for insulation any more. 
And, so I could spend more time working on it since it's handwork, I brought home the gigantic circles quilt that I am tacking down all the leaves I made with all my quilts over the years listed.  I finished up 1/3 of the leaves, still have two more branches to do but working with putting quilts on top of quilts is daunting.  My fingers gave out trying to push the needles through-  no way would a machine do it unless it was my long-gone industrial.  So, my fingers are almost healed and I have to leave FL anyway for a few days so it will sit here on the dining room table waiting for me to come back.  I am giving up, I missed two calls for entry and work still needs to be done on a third but that date is way ahead so perhaps this fall I will get that under the needle and out the door!

Tired of my whining yet?  I am.
OK, time to have that PARTEE:

These are the most wonderful collages, all made from recycled denim.  If you see color or line, it comes from only denim-  she uses the labels and the pocket linings as contrast fabric, and the attention to detail is simply amazing.  I don't know how these have escaped me all this time!  Enjoy-  and go look her up to see many more.






Choi So Young is a contemporary Korean artist. Best known for her urban landscape compositions made from discarded denim clothing and acrylic paint, Choi explores city life in range of highly textural and detailed works. Her ingenious use of yellowed leather tags, bleach stains, and pocket liners to describe telephone poles, skies, or raised highway pillars offer an especially dynamic exploration of otherwise banal subject matter. Born in 1980 in Busan, Korea, she went on to study art at Dong Eui University in Busan. Choi has exhibited at many esteemed art fairs, including Art Miami Basel and Art Chicago. She continues to live and work in Korea.

That's all Im saying tonight, time for a Klondike Bar and a magazine with (get this?) Vanilla Ice on the front.  What has become of me...                  Sandy

Sunday, August 26, 2018

dastardly bangalore decade

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” (Anaïs Nin)



Some news around the home front-  our handy man has finished all the jobs we had lined up and done a great job.  I'd have this guy live-in if I could!  Anyway, one of his tasks (if he chose to do it) was to paint a giant black square on the courtyard side of the house, here:

We jostled around about how to locate it on the odd shape wall but finally settled on lining it up with the window above and the top of the door arch next to it.  The whole project is because we had hung some metal art pieces and the screws and edges all rusted onto the white paint.  This is the 'Almost Black' I used in the den in our old condo and absolutely loved it because it made an odd room finally comfortable.  Anyway, the PLAN (and there is one) is to find a hunk o' art of some impervious material to hang inside the square.  Maybe a metal sculpture in steel or something else the big winds won't take and deposit on a neighbor's roof.  Of course I might find something that will be easily removed when a new hurricane comes and I think I found it today-  Better Walls has outdoor show posters from different museums and I really like that idea-  hopefully held on with some grommets so they can be pulled down if necessary rather than forming a sail and ripping out the stucco!  So, this is my 'blank canvas', now to talk TY into going with a giant flying poster.  

Our guy also fixed the toilet but I guess you don't need to see that.  Meanwhile I have discovered the cleaners have dutifully dusted the baseboards in the bathroom and removed the inks from my wallpaper.  I thought it was a cloudy deposit of some sort and went at it with a spray bottle and watched a big swath of it just drip off the wall.  Don't need a handy man for that fix, need to replace the whole room of paper!  The last guy who put it up took all the leftover paper with him, damn him, or I'd piece it.

I've been continuing the re-making of all my big clothes all week, but today I found 2 more jackets that swallowed me whole when I tried them on.  They are maybe 20 years old, 'wearable art' with hand painted linen designs and a boxy look, out of current style, but I love the fabrics SO I am taking them tomorrow to the studio to cut them apart, recut a new pattern if I can find one that will work, and make them actually wearable again.  Just when I was getting ready to stop. 
Things really got exciting when I got a notice from Eileen Fisher stores that they are giving $5 gift cards for any Eileen Fisher clothes to bring in to recycle.  I started yanking old tee shirts and too big pants out of the closet and have two bags full to drag in.  Again, some things are 20+ years old, but I won't fight them if they stop me without taking everything-  sure a better offer than Goodwill!  Pretty soon I will have extra hangers again.


MORE ARTY PARTIE PIES
Jessica Leigh Clark-Bojin has been dubbed "Pie Hacker", "Pastry Queen" ,"Carbohydrate Whisperer" and "The Woman Responsible for Making Pies Cool Again" by media around the world - and it's no wonder. Her paradigm-busting pie art videos for the Food Network and Cooking Channel have garnered millions of views, with many generating over 10 million views in their first week. Jessica and her pies have been featured on ABCs the Chew, numerous times in Food & Wine Magazine, and her 2016 Kickstarter campaign for a new line of pie baking tools quickly surpassed its funding goal by 1600%.

Well, yeah, of course!  It's because Pies Are Awesome an so is Jessica!  These images are a set of pie patterns (no longer available) but check out their intricacies.  There is a YouTube on the link above to her website to see lots more.

Have to go start some sourdough starter.  The fun never ends.      Sandy

Friday, August 24, 2018

familiarly avocet familism

“Solitude, a rest from responsibilities, and peace of mind, will do you more good than the atmosphere of the studio and the conversations,”  
Louise Bourgeois 


Guess I'm having some troubles getting back into writing daily.  Wouldn't you know,  I apparently spent too long away baking or shopping or something.
I told you we had a handy man looking at the fountain because we thought we had a leak?  Well he took it all apart, blew out the hoses, checked it from stem to stern and pulled out an extended family of tiny little BUFO TOADS.  Guess they started hopping isn all directions when he lifted the screening that he installed to keep the frogs out of their spa.  Well now we know what they were doing from the top of the screen-  dropping eggs through the holes that were too close for the baby toads to escape!  And yup, they were clogging the system.  Damn 'em.  These too are an invasive species and they are trying to blame some pet shop in trouble with a hurricane letting them go.  Don't believe it.  The damn things are invincible and I am sure swam the Caribbean to join us in the land of Cuban Sandwiches and cane sugar.

And now every time I turn over a pot I startle 6 teensy Bufos.

I weathered my birthday basking in the light of... oh hell, I took a shower and pressed a clean shirt and then the plan was I could go work in the studio ALL DAY because TY was celebrating my birthday by playing golf.  He then showed up at 10, had to leave the golf course because he was sick.  Called the doc and he wanted him to come right over so I took him.  He was too shaken to drive, and very dehydrated.  Doc saw him right away, and sent him immediately to emergency room where they installed saline, and sent him for a days worth of tests.  He was supposed to spent the night but refused so I went to pick him up, meanwhile cancelling our reservations, calling our friends and cancelling them out too.  And then, after absorbing all that liquid he was feeling just fine thank you and he wanted me to reinstate the reservations and rally up the friends again.  I refused, but we did go out locally with them for a quick dinner.  TY's face was in his plate most of the dinner, couldn't;t wait to get him home he was so out of it.  So, he went to bed and didn't get up until this morning still insisting there is nothing wrong with him.  Doc gave him antibiotics and a stress test too because he says there is something going on in there.  Happy Birthday to me.

But never you fear, I am gonna reinstate the reservations for next week and go by myself if need be!

So, finally on Thursday I took the day and got to the studio where I continued altering my tent clothes into better fitting outfits.  Every day I'd take 6-8 blouses, shirts, tops and zip anywhere from 2" to 8" off the side seams.  I wasn't very careful, just had to make them presentable enough for another few wearings-  no tailoring, no ripping seams, just making a new one and cutting off the old.  What a pile I have worked on, and now I have a mere few days to revamp my giant quilt and get that under the big needles so I can roll it up and get it stored for who knows what.  I finally decided what I can do to merge two quilts into one piece, even though they together represent over 200 quilts.  But I need it done and put away to clear the decks for something new.  It will be renamed to:
'All the Quilts I Made Before' and is made from the remnants of this one:
'Autobiography', 1977-2016

PLUS, there is a new show coming, not due for a good long time, about schisms or crevasses or furrows-  something like that, maybe fissures?  Anyway that piece is well under way but not yet quilted and it's called:
'What I Shoulda Said' 

So now you'll know what Im talking about as I obsess over getting them done.

So, kind of an weird ARTY PIE PARTY today, but then when isn't it?

Two oddities-loving artists have created their own “people pot pies” using very different media. Special effects artist Ashley Newman was the first to try her hand at making gory, decidedly inedible pies. Made of perfectly skin-toned latex stretched over a foam base, Newman’s pies stare up blankly from their sunken, bruised eye sockets. Meanwhile, browning on the raised cheek bones and nostrils, which ooze sanguineous fluids, give the impression of a juicy, fleshy face pulled straight from the oven. 


Once Newman posted her pies online, cake artist Andrew Fuller  had grown increasingly obsessed with creepy cakes, including an anatomically correct heart cake that, when sliced, bled a goopy raspberry coulis (he sold out over Valentine’s Day). So Fuller couldn’t resist taking inspiration from Newman, with whom he has a mutually admiring relationship

 “You have to be strategic with size and proportions when you make them, because they are dough,” says Fuller. “You have to consider how much certain details may expand or warp during baking.”   Another two of Fuller's cakes.
So, there ya have it.  Wish somebody would have sent me one of these for my Birthday Pie.  Oh well, there may be a very few more chances to arrange that, if you get my drift.

Over and Out here for now.  I hope I can get on a regular schedule and some of my old friends will return.  It's lonely out here blogging into the wind.
                                                                                              
                                                                                                     Sandy












Saturday, August 18, 2018

fortunately proved not

“Every morning upon awakening,” Dali wrote in 1953, “I experience a supreme pleasure: that of being Salvador Dalí, and I ask myself, wonderstruck, what prodigious thing will he do today, this Salvador Dalí.”

The squirrel was in awe of Salvador Dali, probably because he know precisely what Squirrel would do with his day.  

A little low on news today, I had to wait all morning for the handyman to come so I had my prepared list and my gallon of paint ready.  I also did  food shopping so I would have something to do while waiting. 
Well.
Do you remember the Bufo Toad saga from last year?  A quick synopsis-  a family of these giant poisonous toads moved into our entry fountain and we couldn't get rid of them-  they just hunkered down under the water and stared at us when we would yell at them.  By the end of the summer the fountain was completely clogged with toad shit, and it had hardened onto the fountain surface so thick that it looked like adobe.  This particular handyman got the problem, pretty much cleaned out the whole system and chipped off the hardened toad shit for several days.  He also built up a chicken wire platform for a bunch of rocks under the water so they couldn't get in.  I didn't have many problems with them this season, they just didn't come back and if they did they couldn't submerge so I could chase them away with a giant broom.
Ugh ugh ugh!
So, the pump stopped working again the other day, the motor was running but no water was coming out the little spigot on top.  Daniel took it all apart today and OMG, what a friggin' MESS-  apparently the toads had been laying eggs in the fountain and they had been falling down under the rocks past the chicken wire and into the depths.  When he removed the rocks and started fishing around the damn baby toads scurried out like lemmings and tried to escape. They had grown too big to get through the hardware cloth we had put in to keep the full grown guys out!  Hundreds of them in all directions.  Now the pump is filled with baby toad poop instead of adult toad poop.  They have won again.

Moral of the story is to never ever buy a fountain to trickle happily at your front door.  And if you do, don't locate it under a hanging light that zaps bugs to fall into it.  And if you do, never ever turn on said light to attract the bugs because it's like ordering them Blue Apron.
Just to see comparable size

CAUTION:  if you watch the video link above, these are NOT pets, the young woman gives us lots of information but they are NOT the kind of  critter you want to live with.  Certainly I am not happy about sending out hundreds to fend for themselves in my yard!  Keeping Molly on a very short leash- they kill dogs in South Florida regularly.
The best Bufo is a bronzed Bufo.  Yuk!

************

Lets move on over to an ARTY PARTY after that:
I 'collect' mark-making images of embroiderers-  not real, but virtual.  There is a woman, Frances Soame who had the most inventive mind-  she embroiders hand written stories, or diaries on found and historical clothing like this
The above is a closeup of this children's pinafore
She has highly influenced many current artists like Rosalind Wyatt who have done work commemorating her husband's family history and their work in mental health reform.  The following are hers, embroidered from old family pictures and letters on authentic clothing from the era.






As you probably know by now, I love a story with my own work, in fact there doesn't seem to be much reason to do anything unless there's a story. Anyway, the stories that Wyatt has brought forth in her work have influenced many current artists to stitch and 'journal' in their work.  This bears checking into!  

So, if you've been reading this, or have simply stumbled upon it, thanks!  Come back soon and I will start showing more of what I'm up to also.  This month is devoted to making my own clothes smaller, about time!  Maybe I should embroider some story on them!
                                                                      Sandy