In the perfect world…

I daydream of the perfect life, we probably all do.  The perfect balance, where everyone we love is healthy, happy and productive.  Where our lawns stay green, with the perfect amount of rain, nighttime of course, and the days are mild and gloriously sunny.  Yeah, and I weigh 125 pounds and fit into a size 6.  Since none of that is attainable, or at least I haven’t figured out how so far in my 63 years, I take each day as it comes just trying to get through without any disastrous maladies, with as much grace as I can muster, with as much joy as I can glean from the most minor of things.

In the perfect world, I do a yoga practice every day, and draw or sketch for a few minutes each day, and play music, practicing my recorder.  Sadly none of those things have become routine for me.  The goal is not to make them into a routine, but to make them into a habit.  I have taught myself to stand up out of bed each morning, and turn and make the bed before I do anything else.  It has become such a habit that I even do it in hotel rooms.  I can’t stand an unmade bed.  I’m getting much better about moving from room to room with a water bottle, staying much more hydrated, and my kidneys are thanking me for it.  I do study yoga once a week, at a venue in my town, when I’m not traveling, and though that’s better than nothing, with the internet and some fabulous courses in yoga online, many of them free, what is my problem?  I do though, spend a few minutes each day working on a puzzle.  And I do read almost every day before bed.  There are some habits I’m rather proud of, but there are some I just can’t seem to make stick, and I don’t know why.  The puzzle corner is my favorite place in my house.

I just spent the last five days at Peters Valley, one of my most favorite places on earth (the others are in my own house, like my studio).  I took a water color class with Jane Brennan, one of my favorite people, and this is the second time I took the class.  I appreciate when students take my classes over and over because each time I took the class, I defined just a bit better what I wanted to learn, and did.

Last year, I posted about the class here, I was just curious to see if I could still paint, see, draw, and participate without totally embarrassing myself.  Which is just an incredibly stupid reason to take a class.  And I’d chew out a student, and I do, who is worried about what other people think.  I should have been taking the class for shear enjoyment and learning the medium, and exploring the possibilities of two dimensional work.  I actually accomplished though, what I set out to do.  I can still paint, draw, and though it takes effort, I really did enjoy myself and actually framed a couple of the pieces I did for the walls in my home.  But it takes effort.  Because I hadn’t done it since art school in the 70’s.

Moving forward, I had grand visions of spending a few minutes a day sketching, doing a small water color, making painting a part of my routine.  Yeah.  Over the past year, I did 1 1/2 paintings.  On the same day.  I made this little pear, testing some technique I read about, and can’t remember now how I did it.

And I started this wonderful painting of tomatoes, from a layout in Real Simple Magazine, and I never finished it.

So I took this class again.  This time, I knew the routine.  

We started with just simple washes over the paper.  Then we were left to just make something out of it.  I don’t do well making stuff up.  I need to see something in front of me.  This was challenging and not what we did last year.  I struggled, but then stood back and was pretty impressed with myself.  My son loves this picture best out of everything I did.  And I just made it up in my head.  Go figure.

Next came the dreaded still life.  She had watermelon and some lemons. 

Not great, but a passable attempt.

Then she brought a huge planter of some kind of flower I couldn’t identify.  

Not my favorite of the things I’ve done, way more tedious than I like and I started to dread starting a new still life.  Which was weird.  I wanted to be able to draw/paint/sketch quickly, throwing down color and line rapidly, not belabor for hours over a painting I’m not particularly enjoying.  And that’s probably why I didn’t make this a daily habit over the past year.

I pulled out one of the photos I loved from my Cuba trip, and though I love what I painted, it was tedious and not inspiring.  I did get to finally experiment with masking fluid for the grill work.

That basically ended the first day of class, and I had four paintings to show, but what I really wanted to do was explore working in a sketch book.  Last year I brought a brand new little sketch book, something like a 6″ x 9″, because it was on the materials list to bring, and I follow those to the letter.  I didn’t put one mark in the book during the class, nor through the entire year that followed.  I wanted to start a real sketch book, so I brought it to class in the morning of the second day, even though it wasn’t actually water color paper, and I set out to attempt to sketch with something I had a small set of, and had used periodically during my tenure as features editor of Handwoven Magazine when I wrote the color forecast column, but haven’t touched since.  Water color pencils.  You draw first and add water later.  I used a small set of Prismacolors, just the basic colors.

I drew this.

I really liked this.

I went back to the original planter of flowers, still set up in the room and zoomed in and actually studied the plant.  I still don’t know what it is, but I drew it with a lot more detail.  In water color pencil.  I started to add water and then we went out on location for the afternoon.  I was sort of liking this medium, it was tedious in a different way, one where I had more control, ( and isn’t it always better when you are in control?)  And I liked that.  And threading 4000 ends on a loom is tedious, but I like that kind of tedious. I finished watering it later in the afternoon.

I wandered around Peters Valley, settling on an old red barn, but instead of drawing the whole barn, I zoomed in on just the lower corner where the wood was rotting away and the foundation slipping.  It was gorgeous in its decay.  And I’m really happy with the painting.

These little drawings are about 6 x 9, and in a spiral bound sketch book.  They are my treasures.  They make me smile.

I wandered over to the pond where everyone else was happily painting.  I painted this pond last year, and didn’t enjoy it.  I wanted to see how fast I could put something down on paper. I used my cell phone camera to zoom in and crop a manageable amount.  I worked quick, and though I’m not drawn to trees and scenery, I was happy with what I put down in a short amount of time.

It was getting really hot outside, so we gathered back in the studio, and I grabbed what I thought were some lemons and was frustrated that they just weren’t responding to all my yellows and that was because they were really clementines.  Duh…  I had found in my art cabinet at home the night before, a brand new untouched tray of 72 Derwent water color pencils.  I had six shades of yellow to choose from.  And they turned out to be orange clementines.  Still laughing.

Before I left for the day, I started on this little avocado, from a photo in a Real Simple Magazine.  Day four I finished it up.

Then I started on some cherry tomatoes, also from a photo, inspired by a botanical drawing book by Mindy Lighthipe,  (who used to be a weaver on the craft fair circuit in the 1980’s). Don’t worry, I’m not ready to give up my day job.

I wanted to see what would happen if I did a water color wash background and then used water color pencils to trace in some details.  Another picture from my imagination, but pretty limited.  I did figure out what I wanted to know.

So we left again, on location, this time to Walpack Village, where we went last year and I spent hours painting the church.  I wandered up the street and took some photos.  Again, I wanted to see how fast I could get something on paper, trying the same technique of putting in watercolor wash areas, and they quickly applying details with pencils, using them wet, another technique.  An OK effort, but I found out what I wanted to know. I particularly liked the road with the double yellow line.  That should be the name of the painting.

Back at the studio in Peters Valley, the morning of day 5, I decided to be really brave and try figure drawing.  I used to love that back in the day, but I’m really really rusty and wasn’t sure I could get something worthy.  I leafed through a couple magazines and found a photo of a woman on a beach towel poolside.  I dove in. Pun intended.  Not bad considering I haven’t done figure drawing since the 70’s.  I miss working with a live model.

Jane brought in some fresh still life combinations and I decided to just sketch with water color pencils and see where it took me.  I am so loving this medium, especially with 72 colors to pick from.

I did this.  I particularly liked the wine bottle.

Then I did this.  Those begonia leaves were a challenge, but my trusty box of 72 colors was up to it.

I came home feeling like I might be able to see myself sketching something small on a daily basis, even if from a magazine or photo. I immediately set up my easel in the corner of my bedroom, facing out the balcony. 

I will remember to pack my sketch book tomorrow, I’m heading back to the Valley to teach a five day beginning weaving class.  The class is full with 10 students.  It will be an intense five days.  I’m determined to sketch something each day.  And do a daily yoga routine, and lose 10 pounds.  And I’m bringing my knitting, and lots of computer work to do.  You’d think I’d be heading out for a week at the beach…

Stay tuned…

Leaving On A Jet Plane…

I came in my studio one day last week, and my assistant Cynthia was listening to a John Denver song, clearly coming out of my Echo Dot.  I asked what station she was playing and she said she had created a John Denver station on my Pandora.  We listened and laughed and sang along at the top of our lungs…  Of course, Leaving on a Jet Plane came up in the rotation.  I remembered many of the harmonies.  What fun.

Meanwhile, I’m actually leaving on a jet plane, Saturday morning, Brianna, weaver Sally Orgren from my guild, and me, we are all heading to Seattle, and then to Whidbey Island to take a weeklong advanced weaving class with Madelyn van der Hoogt.  I booked this at the end of last summer, actually right after MidWest conference, because, life is short, and none of us knows what tomorrow will bring, but I wanted my daughter to have a chance to study with Madelyn and well, I wanted to too.  Though I’m not that interested in complex structures, you sure couldn’t tell from what came out of my studio this week…

I’m on a roll.  As fast as I make something, I’m thinking about the next thing.  And oddly enough, there seems to be time to do it.  Life is beginning to run like a well oiled machine, thanks to so many people who are working behind the scenes, like Cynthia, and my handyman Rick, and the pond guys, and the plumber guys, who have done wonders cleaning up my exterior and trying to salvage the ponds and the exterior plumbing from the winter from hell.  All the pumps, outdoor lines and filters had to be replaced.  We discovered that a patch in the pond, I didn’t know it was there to begin with, failed and one of the ponds was leaking, the one where the fish survived, so they were transferred to the second pond, and everything is up and running but the pond level is very low until they can patch, but the weather has to be above 70 degrees.  Hahahahahahahah!

The website, web shop, blog, hosting company, all seems to be running well and efficiently, and super fast.  With no effort from me except a lot of money.  Isn’t that always the case…

So I get to go to the studio and make stuff.  I am so happy.  Really, this is what the goal was and now I’m there.  I start traveling heavy duty in another month, but for now, I have two back to back workshops that I’m actually taking, the other with my guild with Heather Winslow, warps are on the loom and I’m ready for that, which happens three days after I return from Whidbey Island.  

So back in June 2010, my guild did an exchange, called Potpourri, where everyone the previous fall put yarns in a brown bag and sealed it.  Brown bags were exchanged and the idea was you had to weave something with the yarns in the bag for the person whose yarns they were.  You can read the blog post about the exchange here.  

Back in April of 2010, I actually began to figure out what to do with this…  These were the yarns Sherrie had put in her bag and I had to weave something out of it.  That’s a very large cone of fine pink kid mohair.  The other two cones are unmercerized cotton.  ?!?!?!?!?

Here is the post where I figured it all out, after counting out the 100 yards of the pretty knitting yarn and knowing I wanted to highlight it.   This is the actual draft I made up. 

I have to say that I was pretty freaking proud of this, it was really out of my wheelhouse and I’m not a complex kind of person, but I figured out how to do what I did with what I had to work with and well, I patted myself on the back.  When I presented Sherrie with the yardage at the meeting in June, she didn’t seem really enthusiastic, I reread my blog post and I think her words were something like, “How Couture.”  

Many years later she came to a meeting with the bolt of fabric and said, she was cleaning things out, came across the yardage and really didn’t know what to do with it and did I want it back!  Well heck yes!  I felt bad that she really didn’t respond to it, maybe the color, size of the motifs, whatever, she is rather petite, but I stuck it on my shelf and it sat for another couple of years…

Until last week.  Bottom line is I looked at the patterns I developed for classes, played around to see what fit on the yardage, and to my complete surprise and delight, the front couple yards and back couple yards matched exactly and I was able to do this.

Getting weft patterning to line up is really really hard, and I can’t believe how effortlessly it matched.  I was not able to match the shoulders, so I added linen epaulets.  The shawl collar/band would not match up, so I got the idea to cut it on the bias.  The linen/rayon I had on my shelf warmed up the pink and created a nice detail and gave me the extra fabric I’d need to make this work.  It is my walking vest pattern, with the armhole from my Daryl Jacket C pattern, with side seam pockets and a shawl collar. 

I could not find any buttons that would work, so when all else fails, cover your own.

I finished it up last night and pulled another piece of handwoven cloth off the shelf, this one from a Diane Totten workshop on Crimp cloth.  I have a plan, and can’t wait to dive into this.  

Meanwhile, I want to give my assistant something to do while I’m gone, so I went back into the archives to the binder that has all the yarn wrapped cards from the years I wrote the color forecast column for Handwoven Magazine.  They should publish the whole series in an ebook, because there are some great resources and inspiration in there.  But I have the actual wrapped cards that they used for photography.  This one was called Down on the Farm, from the Spring/Summer 2006 forecast, published in the Sept/Oct 2005 issue of Handwoven Magazine.

Together we pulled all the yarns from my shelves that remotely went with the palette, and then from there I finalized my selections and she is busily, as I write, winding all the dyed skeins into pull balls so I can wind a warp when I get back from Seattle.  I can’t wait… 

This will be a run of handwoven scarves, and my stash of scarves is empty, the last one sent as a gift to my daughter’s pediatrician, now adult doctor, who every time Brianna goes to see him asks when he is going to get a handwoven scarf from me.  He has been asking for 25 years.  It was time…  And now I have to weave some more.

I spent the weekend up at Peters Valley school of craft, where Brianna and a team of volunteers from my local weaving guild, refurbished all the looms, I replaced 12 Macomber loom aprons, with Brianna right behind me removing and replacing as I sewed them up.  Everything looks fabulous, and Saturday night, we all went down to the store/gallery on campus for the opening of the show, Act 2: Art as a Career Sequel .   Since Art is my career, I didn’t qualify for the show, but Brianna, my lovely talented daughter who works for a vet hospital during the day, got a piece accepted, only 50 pieces were selected out of more than 600.  I adore the piece, it is from her Gender series, called The Gender Game.  The figures are woven in a summer/winter pattern with porn video tape.  It is a pretty powerful piece. 

And so, life marches on, there are some great things happening in my own little corner of the world, and I try to stay informed as is realistic, but not get too caught up in the rest of the world politics.  Election time will be soon enough.  Otherwise I’d be paralyzed from the helplessness of it all.  Spring is slowly coming, I finally have daffodils peaking out of their little heads, and I have fish swimming happily in the cleaned up ponds.  There is a pile at the curb of junk from the yard, for bulk pick up on Monday, thanks to my handyman Rick, and I’ll be flying off to Seattle to study with Madelyn soon. 

Stay tuned…