Friday, February 27

current studio-work playlist

This might be a bad idea or maybe some magic will happen.
I grabbed all the songs from these albums and blended them into one odd soup.

Robyn Hitchcock - Jewels for Sophia and The Man Upstairs
Miles Davis - Live-Evil
Tori Amos - The Beekeeper
Vijay Iyer with Prasanna and Nitin Mitta - Duality
Vijay Iyer and Rudresh Mahanthappa - Raw Materials
Cate Le Bon - Me Oh My and Mug Museum
Robert Wyatt - Schleep and Rock Bottom
and then a French jazz band covering Robert Wyatt:
Mop Meuchiine – Mop Meuchiine Plays Robert Wyatt

Sunday, February 22


"Sister Billowworth, I presume"

"Helen! This is the perfect black dress! It is beautiful. It fits like a glove. I'll be able to accessorize endlessly in this classic. Thanks so much. I LOVE IT!!" — Maria

Wednesday, February 18

today in the studio ... heavy head

The view from where I was resting my head on the the cutting table after making 5,000 scarves yesterday. Okay it wasn't 5,000 it just seemed like it.

Tuesday, February 10

today in the studio ...

... stay out of the studio!

Saturday, February 7

sea change, bread machines, cyberwings

This morning we turned stale superdense homemade bread into french toast, festooned with cinnamon and freshly ground nutmeg, slathered in recently-gifted real maple syrup (now that's a good friend) and, oh, say, three pounds of butter. Usually a day at home means I'm compelled to fill any free time with cooking but instead I'm lazing around, snake-that-just-ate-a-goat-style and firmly believing, this time, that I may never be hungry again. Hunger is sneaky like that.

I think I've gotten over my judgment that bread machine bread is tacky. Lesser than. Yes, it is an aesthetic abomination. Yes, sometimes I just set it on "dough" so I can then knead it and make it appear rustic and authentic when it comes out of the oven. But that's a pessimistic view. I see that now. Because here's the thing: you dump some stuff into this machine and it makes some bread for you. Hot bread. In your house. How about a little gratefulness?

Thank you, machine. Thank you very much.

I have tonight's batch of clothes all set and waiting in the cyberwings. They look just like this:

And if you haven't read about my sea change - in making and listing and pricing - you can read about it here. I've either lost my mind or found my way. I guess I'll know later? Maybe on my deathbed.

Please enjoy my new favorite thing ever: Lazy Evaluation Ranch. It's ... funny writing about goat poop? It's the first tumblr I've had a use for. Or, let's face it, even understood.

Monday, February 2

unsullied, uncorrupted; soundproof, waterproof, and bulletproof

"Remember, the part of us that we imagine needs healing is not the part we create from; that part is far deeper and stronger. The part we create from can't be touched by anything our parents did, or society did. That part is unsullied, uncorrupted; soundproof, waterproof, and bulletproof." — Steven Pressfield