husk redux

Return of the Layering Husk - back by popular demand! I got sick of them after a while but apparently other people didn't. So I gave the design a bit of an overhaul: lowered the dropped waist a bit more and shortened up the petals, flattened all the seams on the top half and added bias tape trim (oh, bias tape, how I love thee) to the neck and arms.

Now I like them too and we can all live happily ever after ... until I get bored again.  This one is made from deep charcoal wool suiting - lightweight and floaty but an austere color - pretty much perfect in my book.

This one is on my website. More shall follow.

winter kitchen, winter reading

Tonight's photo shoot is courtesy of my kitchen. When we first installed our Joe Strummer lightswitch my friend Jeff leaned toward it, squinted, and said "Yes, that's good, you want to have it where you can see it every day."  He was right.

I bought myself some books. I just gave away my copy of Art and Fear but not before replacing it with a new copy plus another for another artist friend. It's the best book ever. I read parts of it every day. It's hard to explain why - it's so basic that it's difficult to describe. Not self help-y, but very helpful. It's simple and direct and puts everything in the right place.

I also chose The View From The Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way In An Uncertain World as it's written by one of the writers of Art and Fear. And then I went berserk and got Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit (darn you Amazon and your free shipping) on the the premise that I just might be mature enough now to learn from someone so disciplined. I know, I'm laughing too. I'll let you know.

hold my calls.

Zena in last week's snowstorm.

The never-ending stupid anxieties of self-employment are partially tempered by my ability to declare a snow day before it even starts. Tomorrow is already canceled.

Actually it will be a work from home day.  Mr. Lentil took a bunch of pictures of my newest work, so I already measured everything and have a whole heap of new clothes and handwarmers to list on my website, as well as all the ingredients for apple crisp.  I'll be wearing my slippers and drinking too much coffee, and after everything is listed, working on some new designs. Take that, snow. Now all I have to do is get home in it tonight.

"Uh-Oh, I've lost a button-hole." - Steven Wright

Okay, so here I am with Nancy Schindler of RoundRabbit last month at the Salt City Urban Arts & Crafts Market. She's curly, I'm fat. But enough about us - what you want to know about is the buttons.  I got all worked up a while back because she was making some special  earthenware, exclusively Nancy-style large chunky buttons just for me to use ... and she brought them to the show ... drumroll please:

I know, I know. I'm excited too.  Plus in the last wave of moving my studio I found the bin with the vintage mens' suits ... some of them match these and as soon as I'm past my holiday push I'll commence to chopping them up and rebuilding them into some vest-jackets and coats featuring these highly coveted buttons.

I swear, each one is lickable. But I have not licked them.

Just call me Tom Sawyer ...

It's Sunday, I have great friends, some leftover wine, a lifetime supply of rubber-stamped pricetags and an awesome heap of hand-painted and stenciled bags.

I put an offer up on facebook to see if anyone wanted to come in and get messy in my studio. It was a full house and a raucous fun time.

My friends are nice people and very earnest workers. Please admire the concentration. Margaret, Norm.

 Sue, Phil, Colleen.

I hope I shelved my control issues well enough and that we're still buddies. I think I did. Norm, Sara, Sue, Phil.

Lisa shows off the finished product. Her stenciling prowess is now known and revered by all. Ta-da!