tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35144326679203407672024-03-13T07:56:23.564-04:00Blog | Odd Bird Studio: the business of a creative lifethe business of a creative lifeLauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.comBlogger604125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-77398487520951618942019-08-08T13:29:00.000-04:002019-08-08T13:29:19.060-04:00Snapshots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rh7hNesGhRc/XUxLTi2H9KI/AAAAAAAAI1I/1yYQIYqyM9cBhSuHtFfKLtnQ8FMetVcRACLcBGAs/s1600/studio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rh7hNesGhRc/XUxLTi2H9KI/AAAAAAAAI1I/1yYQIYqyM9cBhSuHtFfKLtnQ8FMetVcRACLcBGAs/s640/studio.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Yep, that's a new yoni, front left. I've committed to another year of yoni, one piece per week for 52 weeks. In my enthusiasm to get started, and remove as many barriers to continuation of the practice, I cut 30 or so base triangles out of the felt I had on hand. Low light, high heat (i.e. sweating profusely), bad eye glasses, and impatience to finish conspired to make the triangles not so great. In my haste, I convinced myself that I found a new, efficient way to cut identical equilateral triangles without the fuss of measuring and marking. Um. Not so much. They are not only not equilateral, they are not remotely identical, and they're not the desired dimensions. Womp womp. Reminder to self: that rule you have about not employing bladed tools in haste nor after enjoying even a single adult beverage? It's a good rule. It prevents wasted material and accidents.</div>
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In other studio movement, I bit the bullet and replaced my computer. Yay and boo. Boo because, of course, none of my software is compatible with the new operating system. And none of the software I rely on is available any longer for one time purchase - it's all subscription based. And that doesn't fly with me. So, I am in the self-inflicted morass of learning to use all new (to me) freeware. Yay for freeware. Boo to my plodding learning process. Which means, bad phone photos here until I find and learn a free image editing program that works for me.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qlZE2-FN1B8/XUxLTp_FwCI/AAAAAAAAI1U/mcH5xyMl_nMHkZnYZruMNA103qzurUVCACEwYBhgL/s1600/squirrel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qlZE2-FN1B8/XUxLTp_FwCI/AAAAAAAAI1U/mcH5xyMl_nMHkZnYZruMNA103qzurUVCACEwYBhgL/s640/squirrel.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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What you're looking at above is a squirrel. Or what's left of a squirrel. Fur, bones, and connective tissue. I surprised myself by tamping down my queasiness long enough to peel it off the pavement (wearing gloves!) and bag it. I want those bones. But I have yet to summon the fortitude to complete the decomposition process. It's been sitting in a ziplock on the mudroom floor for weeks now. If you are at all intrigued, I found <a href="https://adequateman.deadspin.com/roadkill-crafts-a-squeamish-beginners-guide-1769191268" target="_blank">this (un-illustrated) tutorial</a> for preserving road kill bones informative and entertaining.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pages from <i>This Woman's Work</i> © Julie Delporte, translated from the French by Helge Dascher and Aleshia Jensen</td></tr>
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On the book front, I am loving <a href="https://www.drawnandquarterly.com/womans-work" target="_blank"><i>This Woman's Work</i></a> by Julie Delporte. It's kinda like a sketchbook / personal journal combo. Amongst many delightful insights and ponderings, it's a feminist dive into the messiness of our cultural assumptions and expectations about gender. I picked it up at my favorite bookstore here in Philly, <a href="https://www.foxbookshop.com/" target="_blank">Joseph Fox</a> on Sansom. It's a small shop with a wonderfully curated selection of titles. I indulge myself with a purchase every time I visit. Because: 1. I always discover something that I've never heard of before that looks amazing, and 2. I want the store to stay in business so I can continue to discover new gems. I just began reading <a href="http://www.sheilaheti.com/motherhood-1" target="_blank"><i>Motherhood</i></a> by Sheila Heti, another book I discovered at Joseph Fox. So far, it reads to me like a window into the narrator's squirrels in the attic regarding the question whether or not to have children within the framework of her life as a professional creative. Squirrels in the attic is the term my friend A. and I use to describe the brain's running commentary, the ego driven crap that trips us up, the second guessing, the not so useful stories we tell ourselves about ourselves. I picked these titles after finishing Ani DiFranco's memoir, <a href="https://righteousbabe.myshopify.com/collections/frontpage/products/no-walls-and-the-recurring-dream-hardcover" target="_blank"><i>No Walls and the Recurring Dream</i></a>. I recommend all three titles if you, like me, want to steep in strong feminist artistic creativity. It's divine.</div>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-53249720102756341742019-07-05T16:03:00.000-04:002019-07-05T16:03:40.107-04:00Make Art Like It's 1999<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, wouldn't you know it. Just as I start to get back into the rhythm of posting here on a regular schedule, my old, tired, limping computer finally called it quits. Not a surprise, but a bit inconvenient at the moment. So, please forgive the poor quality of the images that follow. They're the best I could manage with my phone. OK, embarrassment assuaged, let's get into my eye-opening plunge into sketchbooks of years past.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MKMU7fH8ewM/XR6lPBt2uhI/AAAAAAAAI0Q/_HR1PrSLLQkCC0iHaleoyI1YFJwuiaDVgCLcBGAs/s1600/1999sketch2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="1600" height="287" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MKMU7fH8ewM/XR6lPBt2uhI/AAAAAAAAI0Q/_HR1PrSLLQkCC0iHaleoyI1YFJwuiaDVgCLcBGAs/s400/1999sketch2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">sketchbook notes, 1999</span></td></tr>
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This week, my friend Albert and I have been trying to remember all the art museums we have visited together. We've come up with 33 we agree upon. This fun trip down memory lane inspired me to list all the other art museums and galleries I have visited, ever. Which led to my bookshelf of old sketchbooks, to jog my memory. I was floored to discover the above page from 1999. </div>
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The words that fold over the right side into the gutter read:</div>
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"memory of past strength/power, goddess, nature, blood past, history, <b style="font-style: italic;">hanging seed pod/vulva</b>"</div>
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I have absolutely no recollection of this. None. I cannot remember contemplating seed pods as vulvas before this past year. And that sketch in the center, I now recall, is a partitioned drawer that I used to have. I obviously was thinking about lining it with fur and turning it into a wall-hanging shadow box, to contain a hanging seed pod vulva and a small box holding "single vulva/pod." </div>
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What absolutely blows me away about this is not that I completely forgot these notes, but that I have been thinking that I am currently embarking on new artistic ground for myself. (See <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2019/05/feeling-rusty.html" target="_blank">this post</a>) Hah! Not so. I am right in line with what has always motivated my art making. Only now I am actually following through on the shadow box idea and the vulva pod idea. As the following 2019 sketchbook page shows.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gik_vhVHXuY/XR6lP-NbdBI/AAAAAAAAI0g/ZxITaK9fF4gd75kN-_8ze4Yl66ImYU3PACLcBGAs/s1600/2019sketch2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="268" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gik_vhVHXuY/XR6lP-NbdBI/AAAAAAAAI0g/ZxITaK9fF4gd75kN-_8ze4Yl66ImYU3PACLcBGAs/s400/2019sketch2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">sketchbook notes, 2019</span></td></tr>
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I find it interesting and reassuring, comforting even, that when we feel like our creative voice has become unfamiliar, like we're learning a foreign language, that we're actually mining what has always existed within us. The notions that seem new or crazy or coming out of left field, they only feel that way because we are newly learning to express them. The ideas themselves are old ideas that have been biding their time, waiting for the right time for our creative selves to be able to fully realize them. Or so I believe.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DC7EHd8pmjM/XR6lPEDk_pI/AAAAAAAAI0s/IzYluVPwoxQHZhPvkeXqvuwpp4gU3wbwgCEwYBhgL/s1600/1999sketch1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1220" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DC7EHd8pmjM/XR6lPEDk_pI/AAAAAAAAI0s/IzYluVPwoxQHZhPvkeXqvuwpp4gU3wbwgCEwYBhgL/s400/1999sketch1.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">sketchbook, 1999</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-up77HQ0siGI/XR6lPp8a4yI/AAAAAAAAI0k/dTQNfzzf_Qkdwp4rf8p_81JgcX6j7NApgCEwYBhgL/s1600/2018sketch1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1504" data-original-width="1600" height="375" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-up77HQ0siGI/XR6lPp8a4yI/AAAAAAAAI0k/dTQNfzzf_Qkdwp4rf8p_81JgcX6j7NApgCEwYBhgL/s400/2018sketch1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">sketchbook, 2018</span></td></tr>
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One more comparison I can't resist sharing:<br />
from 1999: "create symbol for female/goddess/strength/power, reproduce 3-dimensionally" and a tattoo sketch, in the inverted triangle, <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-word-or-several-about-yoni.html" target="_blank">sacred symbol of feminine creative power/yoni</a> (which little tidbit I definitely did not know at the time). Followed by a page from 2019, doodling symbols that represent exactly what I charged myself to create (and promptly forgot about) 20 years ago.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F-xQXc-RJTs/XR6lPOtWpgI/AAAAAAAAI0o/gp2h7LtQjRY24NpfQd1hZNAWMzGmOYmHgCEwYBhgL/s1600/1999sketch2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1042" data-original-width="1600" height="260" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F-xQXc-RJTs/XR6lPOtWpgI/AAAAAAAAI0o/gp2h7LtQjRY24NpfQd1hZNAWMzGmOYmHgCEwYBhgL/s400/1999sketch2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">sketchbook, 1999</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g62zxfQV6ew/XR6lP8KEH9I/AAAAAAAAI0s/hNiHADxGgwsHFOOlxq4WDYh3vnjlOOOpwCEwYBhgL/s1600/2019sketch1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1321" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g62zxfQV6ew/XR6lP8KEH9I/AAAAAAAAI0s/hNiHADxGgwsHFOOlxq4WDYh3vnjlOOOpwCEwYBhgL/s400/2019sketch1.jpg" width="330" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">sketchbook, 2019</span></td></tr>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-50220199706749732532019-06-20T11:49:00.000-04:002019-06-20T11:49:44.373-04:00Unsticking & Momentum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kuKNKryP8OY/XPBBughn7lI/AAAAAAAAIyY/rwHNDZfn208Fzl1MUeq9r0obUzO6bv7lACEwYBhgL/s1600/pod2.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kuKNKryP8OY/XPBBughn7lI/AAAAAAAAIyY/rwHNDZfn208Fzl1MUeq9r0obUzO6bv7lACEwYBhgL/s1600/pod2.1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Tah-dah! Completed 3-D pod experiment. I still have no idea if this little pod wants a flotilla of friends (what better way to engulf the patriarchy than with an armada of vaginal shaped pods based on mother nature's designs!) or if it's a stepping stone to something else. And, still, it doesn't matter to me. The important thing, the ONLY thing, was to DO! DO as in stop thinking, agonizing, procrastinating, obsessing, perfecting in my head and just MAKE. Get started. Follow through. DO!<br />
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That's definitely my sticking point: getting started. But once I do start - something, anything - the momentum of doing carries me along and ripples out into other do-ings. So simple. So seemingly obvious. But vastly HUGE in effects when I put it into practice.<br />
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What I have found immensely helpful is to conceptualize the things I am avoiding - for one reason or another, with an unhealthy dose of justification and redirection in the mix (oh the ego trickster / chatty squirrels / monkey mind! Do be quiet!) - I conceptualize these areas of avoidance as stuck energy. Rather than cajole myself into washing the dishes, folding the laundry, getting in the studio, whatever, I think about tackling the task as unsticking. Unsticking the stagnant energy around it. Unsticking the self-recriminations that avoidance generates. Unsticking the icky feelings that arise from not doing the task. Because starting something is the biggest hurdle for me, I don't really think about it as "starting" any more. I am unsticking. </div>
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The momentum generated by unsticking leads to more and more unsticking. Working on the pod after months of avoidance carried over to unsticking a garden project that's been on the agenda for over a year. While digging in the dirt with the Hubs to install garden edging for erosion prevention, I unearthed the mega rusty pictured above. I have no idea what it once was, but it's heavy, hefty, and about 18 inches long. It's going to dye a lot of fiber, yes indeedy (which in itself is an unsticking of my studio practice).</div>
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The momentum from those unstickings carried into wanting to revive my <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">Year of Yoni</a> practice. I'm in the process of prepping the base triangles and plan to cut smaller triangles and circles to have on hand to facilitate / remove barriers to beginning one whenever the whim strikes. <br /><br />And while the iron was hot and the cutting wheel was at hand, more unsticking ensued. I tackled t-shirt makeovers that have been languishing for 3 years or more. Seriously. I've had all the materials on hand, just no mojo to actually do as planned. Unsticking the pile of unwearable shirts with fun designs, turning them into wearable shirts (that actually fit me properly - after shortening them by 3.5 inches), was the biggest unsticking yet. Not only have I been avoiding it the longest out of all recent unstickings, my feelings around the project and my body were super negative and downright sludgy. Having unstuck the physical project, the burdensome weight of my negativity unstuck as well.<br />
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Seeing the physical unstickings, feeling a sense of accomplishment, enjoying the results of the work, all of it conspires to release the sludgy emotions, elevate the soul, and open the heart. What I am struggling to describe in my over-zealousness, I think, is what I mean by <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2019/06/spaciousness.html" target="_blank">spaciousness</a>. This unsticking and clearing, lightening and releasing, doing and momentum, what it all adds up to is spaciousness. </div>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-35978393982768968722019-06-06T15:17:00.000-04:002019-06-06T15:17:50.771-04:00Spaciousness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My word for 2019 is <i>spaciousness, </i>in all possible meanings, as applied to physical space and the body, emotional well-being and mental health, interpersonal relationships and relationship with self, creativity and the soul. Mind Body Soul Spirit. It's all connected. As such, I've been addressing all these aspects, from different angles, with different techniques, with the goal to clear years of clutter, muck, and stickiness.<br /><br />One such angle was the wonderful e-course <i><a href="https://www.susannahconway.com/your-soul-speaks/" target="_blank">Y</a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" target="_blank">our Soul Speaks</a>, </i>with Susannah Conway<i>, </i>15 glorious days of prompts and tools to (re)connect with inner wisdom / intuition. One tool, collaging to unlock / tap into / release inner wisdom combined fluidly with another angle new to me this year, keeping a moon journal. I'm using <a href="https://themoonismycalendar.com/new-products/new-moon-calendar-journal" target="_blank">this one</a> to journal daily, following the moon cycle rather than the arbitrary passage of time recorded by the monthly calendar. Cyclical time vs linear time appeals to me, especially since diving into Leonard Shlain's book <a href="http://www.alphabetvsgoddess.com/" target="_blank"><i>The Alphabet Versus the Gooddess</i></a> - but I digress. </div>
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The moon journal pages devoted to creating a new moon mandala are a perfect time and place - every 29th day on the new moon - to use the intuition tapping collage technique to reveal my focus for the next moon cycle. The mandala collage then prompts specific intentions, written down on the next page, related to what the mandala collage reveals.</div>
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The first couple of these collages I made were very much directed by my conscious mind. But with practice, the two most recent, pictured here, revealed surprises (but not really). They surprised me in that they are in no way the result of conscious choices, the images and words seemingly picked themselves without my direction. The collages are not surprising, though, in their content. What they reveal are thing I KNOW. Things deeply known by my inner wisdom that intuition surfaced for my conscious mind to work with. I am loving these tools and techniques.</div>
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What are your rituals or techniques for tuning into your intuition / inner wisdom / soul? I'd love to hear them in the comments. <br /><br />PS Another daily journaling / doing / prompt that I'm digging this year are the exercises presented in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Year-Clear-Daily-Creating-Spaciousness/dp/193828948X" target="_blank"><i>A Year to Clear: A Daily Guide to Creating Spaciousness in Your Home and Heart</i></a> by Stephanie Bennett Vogt (hey, lookee, it's still <a href="https://www.dailyom.com/cgi-bin/courses/courseoverview.cgi?cid=532" target="_blank">offered as an e-course</a>. Who knew?)</div>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-80466041441363376482019-05-21T08:00:00.000-04:002019-05-21T15:23:29.266-04:00Feeling Rusty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been feeling very rusty in this little ol' art practice (or not practice, as the case may be) of mine. Figuratively rusty because:</div>
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<li>I'm working in new (to me) media</li>
<li>I'm creating imagery rather than recording on film what already exists in reality</li>
<li>I'm learning to think in 3-D</li>
<li>I'm at the mercy of my learning curve for:</li>
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<li> Acquiring the necessary dexterity and craftsmanship skills for textile work</li>
<li> Figuring out how different physical materials behave and won't behave</li>
<li> Considering how 3-D objects will inhabit a space (dangling from ceiling, protruding from wall, sitting on a pedestal, etc)</li>
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<li>I'm creating my own visual and symbolic language </li>
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And that's just the list I've pulled off the top of my head in this moment. I'm sure there's more. Of course there's more.<br />
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I'm mentioning these things because I've been beating myself up for not producing mounds of work, not producing exhibit worthy work, not spending every free moment in the studio working. I know I'm not the only one who gets down on myself for these things. But. It's just plain silly and counterproductive to beat up on oneself. For me, it stymies my creativity rather than open it up. I've been reading <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2018/02/make-your-own-world.html" target="_blank">this advice</a> from Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse over and over again lately as a reminder to get out of my head and just do something, make something, anything. To cultivate and ride the momentum generated by simply doing.<br />
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So. A shift. I took feeling metaphorically rusty and turned it literal. I pulled out my collection of rusty shit and dyed tiny torn strips of muslin. (Am I the only one who sees these fabric strips as slabs of
marbled bacon? The iron stains as muscle, the white fabric as the fat.) </div>
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I dye with rust/iron specifically because it's the iron in our hemoglobin that causes brown and rusty blood stains. With my rusty fabrics and threads, I hope to suggest associations with blood. Regardless, I need a few more strips of rusty fabric to finish an experimental pod thingie that has been languishing for months. I worked on it for the first time in ages while over at a friend's house last week for a craft night date. Thank you Adrienne! Riding the momentum generated by those few hours of stitching carried over into more dyeing...</div>
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I even love the threads that shed from the frayed edges of the torn strips.<br />
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When these babies dry, some are destined to finish this pod experiment. What's it for? What's its destiny? Not a clue. And that's OK. It's teaching me things I need to know.</div>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-71146400948194427412019-04-09T16:08:00.000-04:002019-04-09T16:08:09.629-04:00Hmmm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-51437777376019950352019-01-06T16:27:00.002-05:002019-01-06T16:27:56.742-05:00Altered Altar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is the floor of my studio, right now. Yesterday, with the solar eclipse and new moon as motivators, I decided to get started on making an altar. <br /><br />An altar. FULL STOP. I couldn't have contemplated such a thing or even said such a word a couple of years ago without a full body cringe of squiggy discomfort. An altar? Me? In my home? What? Since then I've read a lot, thought a lot, questioned a lot, worked a lot, stretched a lot, relinquished a lot, embraced a lot, and changed a lot, as one does.</div>
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My altar is not an altar of or to any religious faith (although it will contain a Ganesha figurine and possibly a Buddha head), it's more accurately a display or vignette of items that hold personal significance to me. My altar will serve as a personal touchstone, with elements of beauty and symbols that encourage and remind me of how and who I am and want to be.</div>
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This gorgeous, aged, chipped, carved wood frame will become the container, the altar, for my rotating collection of objects and symbols. I've had the frame for years, but haven't before now figured out how to use it or display it. The flat interior edges (the rabbet) are two and half inches deep. Perfect, I think, as a little shelf for special, little objects.</div>
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I'm going to add a shelf midway-ish up the height of the frame. And since I have no way to determine just what is in the paint and finishes that remain adhered to it, I'm going to gently clean and then seal the surface with polyurethane. It pains me to do something that isn't reversible, but I'd rather have any potential carcinogens and lung irritants safely sealed in place.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qAAr6ZKOxcI/XDJpcYct7MI/AAAAAAAAIvw/ir9EJ0Ucmhk05xeoMsmFkuaSTCISXKSLwCEwYBhgL/s1600/altar4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qAAr6ZKOxcI/XDJpcYct7MI/AAAAAAAAIvw/ir9EJ0Ucmhk05xeoMsmFkuaSTCISXKSLwCEwYBhgL/s1600/altar4.jpg" /></a> This is such a magnificent frame. I am over the moon with happiness that it will finally adorn my wall and serve a purpose other than just looking really friggin' cool. Creating an altar feels like an apt way to begin the new year. It will certainly include elements of my word for 2019<i><b>, spaciousness</b></i>. Sorry for the abrupt ending, I'm out of practice writing posts. . .<br /> </div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-48718878912345691622018-12-27T08:00:00.000-05:002018-12-27T08:00:12.339-05:0052 Books<div style="text-align: justify;">
For an explanation of 52 Books (2012) <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2012/12/52-books.html" target="_blank">click here</a>. <br />
Links to all other previous lists<br />
<a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2013/12/52-books.html" target="_blank">52 Books</a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" target="_blank"> 2013</a> :: <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2014/12/52-books.html" target="_blank">52 Books 2014</a> :: <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2016/01/52-books.html" target="_blank">52 Books 2015</a> :: <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2016/12/52-books.html" target="_blank">52 Books 2016</a> :: <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/12/52-books.html">52 Books 2017</a></div>
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BOOKS 2018</div>
The Goldfinch • Donna Tartt<br />
Dancer • Colum McCann<br />
All Over Creation • Ruth Ozeki<br />
Gift from the Sea • Anne Morrow Lindbergh<br />
At the Water's Edge • Sara Gruen<br />
The Last Kingdom • Bernard Cornwell<br />
The Girl on the Train • Paula Hawkins<br />
The Fiery Cross • Diana Gabaldon<br />
People of the Book • Geraldine Brooks<br />
The Secret Garden • Frances Hodgson Burnett<br />
The Mists of Avalon • Marion Zimmer Bradley<br />
The Bridges of Madison County • Robert James Waller<br />
When It Happens to You • Molly Ringwald<br />
The Wise Man's Fear • Patrick Rothfuss<br />
The Pale Horseman • Bernard Cornwell<br />
Transit • Rachel Cusk<br />
Winter Journal • Paul Auster<br />
Wizard and Glass • Stephen King<br />
American Gods • Neil Gaiman<br />
The Language of Trees • Ilie Ruby<br />
The Devil's Workshop • Alex Grecian<br />
Threats • Amelia Gray<br />
Something I've Been Meaning to Tell You • Alice Munro<br />
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto • Michael Pollan<br />
The Passenger • Lisa Lutz<br />
Slade House • David Mitchell<br />
The First Bad Man • Miranda July<br />
Lords of the North • Bernard Cornwell<br />
Through the Flower: My Struggle as a Woman Artist • Judy Chicago<br />
Sword Song • Bernard Cornwell<br />
Cat's Eye • Margaret Atwood<br />
Mortal Fear • Greg Iles<br />
Black Swan Green • David Mitchell<br />
Jezebels of the Earth • Wandering Meadowlark<br />
Hag-Seed • Margaret Atwood<br />
One Good Turn • Kate Atkinson<br />
Beautiful Ruin • Jess Walter<br />
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone • J.K. Rowling<br />
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo • Stieg Larsson<br />
The Girl Who Played with Fire • Stieg Larsson<br />
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest • Stieg Larsson<br />
A Breath of Snow and Ashes • Diana Gabaldon<br />
Exit West • Mohsin Hamid<br />
The Graveyard Book • Neil Gaiman<br />
Saturday Night Widows: The Adventures of Six Friends Remaking Their Lives • Becky Aikman<br />
The Handmaid's Tale • Margaret Atwood<br />
The Last Painting of Sara deVos • Dominic Smith<br />
The Feather Thief: Beauty, Obsession, and the Natural History Heist of the Century • Kirk Wallace Johnson<br />
Started Early, Took My Dog • Kate Atkinson<br />
This Must Be the Place • Maggie O'Farrell<br />
The Burning Land • Bernard Cornwell<br />
The Hunger Games • Suzanne Collins<br />
Taft • Ann Patchett<br />
Catching Fire • Suzanne Collins<br />
Mockingjay • Suzanne Collins<br />
The Mistress's Daughter • A.M. Homes<br />
Dark Places • Gillian Flynn<br />
Bonfire • Krysten Ritter<br />
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children • Ransom Riggs<br />The Robber Bride • Margaret Atwood<br />and an insightful, amazing, amusing, and helpful unpublished manuscript written by a good friendLauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-90410991594251747932018-12-18T18:24:00.001-05:002018-12-18T18:24:22.432-05:00Beginnings<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dear A - - -</div>
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<br />
I've been thinking about new beginnings, fresh starts, hitting the personal reset button, and would love to hear your thoughts on the matter. But, as you know, our phone conversations clock in at, at a minimum, four hours. (When you left voicemail this morning, I was at my workplace's annual
holiday breakfast, which I had completely forgotten about when planning
my days off this week. Oops.) Regardless, I have too many things I want to do in my days before heading north for the holidays, especially in the studio, to make space for one of our epic phone rollicks. Instead, my rambling, one-way conversation is coming to you as a "letter." </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i9uza8vRR4o/XBmAeWQoWgI/AAAAAAAAIuo/sDXEhNDxfkAulKj7hxA9DPvDTSTA-lo6gCLcBGAs/s1600/studio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i9uza8vRR4o/XBmAeWQoWgI/AAAAAAAAIuo/sDXEhNDxfkAulKj7hxA9DPvDTSTA-lo6gCLcBGAs/s1600/studio.jpg" /></a> Sure, I could put pen to paper and mail this through the postal service. It's always so pleasant to receive something personal in the mail, isn't it? A lift, a spark, a hug, delivered right to your door or end of the driveway, as the case may be. But, as I know you receive my blog posts in your email and file them away in a separate folder until you have time to sit with them, I thought: Hey! Two birds, one stone. (What a horrid expression! Sorry, birds!) An e-letter to you to sow the seeds for a future conversation plus a "new beginnings" blog post all-in-one.</div>
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New beginnings. I've been wanting to reconnect to this space through regular posts (whatever regular winds up being: Weekly? Bi-weekly? Don't know, what in the end feels right and doable, I suppose). But I've been struggling to find my way back in, struggling to interest myself enough in my own words and ramblings to share them here with a wider audience. Even if that audience is only two, that's still wider than the limits of my own head. Struggling, that is, until the format of a letter to you hit like a bolt of lightning. Don't worry, I'm only a little singed around the edges, and plan to cut my hair soon anyway, so no lasting damage done.</div>
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Oh dear. I'm cluing in to why our phone calls are epic in length. Because we wander. Even writing to you, imagining this as a conversation with you, wandering ensues. We wander beautifully & curiously & playfully & inquiringly & rantingly & goofily & searchingly & intuitively. Our conversations are like rollicking tromps through the countryside, from meadow to brook, forest to hilltop, thicket to lake shore. Were a couple of lovable, inexhaustible hounds, meandering to and fro, noses to the ground sniffing everything, noses in the air seeing everything. I love our conversations. I wish we recorded them to listen back to later. To be able to take notes. Some of the stuff we stumble upon is pure gold. </div>
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Right. New Beginnings. What I have been holding on to, making space for, mostly just reminding myself over and over, is that new beginnings can happen any time. ANY TIME. Every new breath is an opportunity to begin afresh. Okay, not exactly revolutionary or earth shattering of a thought. But still. Instead of putting off starting something - like trying to figure out how to create a cracked open milkweed pod shape with fabric pieces - until tomorrow, next week, the new year, whatever conceivable future time frame feels new and fresh in the moment, I remind myself that this very moment is a new beginning.<br />
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With your years of meditation practice, I imagine this is not a new concept to you. And I have to interrupt this train of thought to say that it's not a new concept to me either. But, somehow, in recent years (um, over the past decade perhaps?), more and more time-based procrastinations and avoidances have crept into my daily habits. And I don't like it. It just doesn't make sense to me, intellectually if not in practice, to put off something I want to do or need to do with the justification that tomorrow or next week is a fresh start. I'll do it then. Why then? Why not now? And, really, the "then" in those ego trickster mind games never seem to arrive. Or keep getting pushed back.<br />
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Well, I've barely scratched the surface of what I thought I wanted to get down in words for you. But this will have to do for now. I'll leave you with a passage from <a href="https://danishapiro.com/" target="_blank">Dani Shapiro's</a> book <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Still-Writing-Perils-Pleasures-Creative/dp/0802121411/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1545172113&sr=1-1&keywords=still+writing" target="_blank"><i>Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life</i></a> on this very topic of new beginnings, a passage I have glued to the inside cover of one of my sketchbooks<i>:</i><br />
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When I was first learning to meditate, this idea of beginning again was revelatory. It still is. The meditation teacher Sharon Salzberg speaks of capturing the mind scampering off, like the little monkey that it is, into the past, the future, anywhere but here, and suggests that the real skill in meditation is simply noticing that the mind has wandered. So liberating, this idea that we can start over at any time, a thousand times a day if need be. I see many parallels between the practices of meditation and writing but none are more powerful than this. Writing is hard. We resist, we procrastinate, we veer off course. But we have this tool, this ability to begin again. Every sentence is new. Every paragraph, every chapter, every book is a country we've never been to before. We're clearing brush. We don't know what's on the other side of that tree. We are visitors in a foreign land. And so we take a step. Up the stairs after the morning coffee. Back to the desk after the doorbell has rung. Return to the manuscript.<br />
It never gets easier. It shouldn't get easier. Word after word, sentence after sentence, we build our writing lives. We hope not to repeat ourselves. We hope to evolve as interpreters and witnesses of the world around us. We feel our way through darkness, pause, consider, breathe in, breathe out, begin again. And again, and again.*</blockquote>
Things I did not get to that I'd like to remember to talk about with you:<br />
1. Spirals vs circles, linear vs cyclical time<br />
2. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Alphabet-Versus-Goddess-Conflict-Between/dp/0140196013/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1545173300&sr=1-1&keywords=alphabet+versus+the+goddess" target="_blank"><i>The Alphabet Versus the Goddess: The Conflict Between Word and Image </i></a><span id="goog_399918965"></span><br />
(my current read, I'm fascinated with the author's theory that written language is the universal reason varied cultures shifted from egalitarian Goddess worshiping polytheistic societies to patriarchal, mysogynistic monotheistic societies in which God is imagined as male.)<br />
3. Reading deliberately, list of books to read, books on shelf that remain unread or unfinished <br />
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* Shapiro, Dani. <i>Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life</i>. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 2013, pp 109-110.<br />
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-12682324451339195282018-11-08T10:58:00.000-05:002018-11-08T10:58:41.476-05:00Shifting Perspectives<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A shift in perspective. Deliberately altering one's view/mindset by changing one's outlook/point of reference. Employing new words to describe a tired concept. New words create new perspective, fresh ways of thinking about a particular problem or sticky wicket.</div>
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This is where I have been: listless, immobile, stagnant, motivated yet resistant to starting. Starting anything: art, creative idea follow-through, decluttering, ordering the house, cleaning, cooking. Stuck. Stagnant. </div>
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After much not helpful deliberation and stern self-talkings-to, reflecting on a conversation with a dear friend got me thinking. What if the stagnancy in me is a reflection of the stagnancy in the house? Stagnant energy, if you will, enclosed in the house, gathered and trapped amongst the areas of clutter and the items unpacked yet not arranged.</div>
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I intellectually know that my clutter hasn't changed. Nevertheless, being overwhelmed into paralysis by the sheer volume of the decluttering I dearly wish to tackle, that helplessness completely shifted when I replaced the language in the story. Instead of cleaning and clutter-busting I am releasing stagnant energy and inviting in fresh energy. Complete game changer. </div>
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It began with removing the air conditioners from the windows in preparation for colder weather. (Did anyone else abruptly move from A/C to heating in a single day?) The first window was filthy, so I deep cleaned every nook and cranny and polished the glass to a shine. The difference was amazing! It not only let in more light - clear, unwavering, unfiltered light - with the idea of energy exchange in mind, it felt like I had removed a barrier to the stagnant energy escaping the house. More window cleaning ensued. Which led to removing the pockets of clutter around the windows. And arranging the windowsills to be pleasing, harmonious, happy. </div>
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This shift, this change in words, change in conceptualization, altering the story and self-talk, I wonder how it can be applied to creative work. When stuck, or blocked, or feeling in a rut creatively, when feeling "uninspired," or tapped dry, how can I shift my perspective to unlock movement and effort? How can different words used to describe the blocked feeling, a fresh way to conceive of the issue, provide space and motivation for the joy of making?</div>
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Through this process of physically clearing and cleaning and removing blockages, the synchronicities keep on coming. Perhaps it has been framed and inspired by my early choice of word for 2019: <i>Clarity</i>. Regardless, <a href="http://thecraftsessions.com/blog/2018/10/31/action-cures-overthinking" target="_blank">this timely post from The Craft Sessions</a> about unlocking creativity through changing our self-talk says what I am trying to convey much better than I can say it. And <a href="https://annapurnaliving.com/blog/healing-portals-denise-andrade-kroon" target="_blank">this guest post over at Annapurna Living</a> - about windows of all things - landed in my inbox with a soft chuckle and nudge to keep on keeping on. As George Bernard Shaw put it, "you are the windows through which you must see the world."</div>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-91016061403147496792018-10-11T12:25:00.001-04:002018-10-11T12:35:25.565-04:00Soul Salve<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It is a gross misunderstanding to imagine warfare as endemic to the human condition."</div>
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- Marija Gimbutas, from the preface to <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Civilization-Goddess-World-Old-Europe/dp/0062508040" target="_blank">The Civilization of the Goddess: The World of Old Europe*</a></i></div>
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Reading those words Tuesday, as well as the entirely of <i>Preface: What Is Civilization?</i> by anthropologist and archeologist Marija Gimbutas, was a much needed breath of fresh air. A deep, cleansing, releasing breath. </div>
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Examining "the way of life, religion, and social structures of the peoples who inhabited Europe from the 7th to the 3rd millennia B.C." Gimbutas asserts:</div>
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Widespread fighting and fortification building have indeed been the way of life for most of our direct ancestors from the Bronze Age up until now. However, this was not the case in the Paleolithic and Neolithic. There are no depictions of arms (weapons used against other humans) in Paleolithic cave paintings, nor are there remains of weapons used by man against man during the Neolithic of Old Europe. From some hundred and fifty paintings that survived at <a href="http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Catal_Huyuk" target="_blank">Çatal Hüyük</a>, there is not one depicting a scene of conflict or fighting, or of war or torture.</blockquote>
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No warfare, no conflict. Village sites chosen for "convenient setting, good water and soil, and availability of animal pastures," rather than defensible or inaccessible positions. Further, no images "have been found of a Father God throughout the prehistoric record." </div>
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The religion of the Goddess reflected a matristic, matrilineal, and <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/endogamous" target="_blank">endogamic</a> social order for most of early human history. This was not necessarily "matriarchy," which wrongly implies "rule" by women as a mirror image of <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/androcracy" target="_blank">androcracy</a>. A matrifocal tradition continued throughout the early agricultural societies of Europe, Anatolia, and the Near East, as well as Minoan Crete. The emphasis in these cultures was on technologies that nourished people's lives, in contrast to the androcratic focus on domination.</blockquote>
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Set aside any judgements about Gimbutas's research, and just imagine that for a moment. Culture focused on nourishing the lives of all its citizens rather than a society of division, stratification, hierarchy, and domination. <i>This</i>. This concept/struggle/desire, in a freakin' nutshell, has been the driving force of my art practice for nearly 30 years (which is as long as I have had an art practice). </div>
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I could say, Marija Gimbutas, where have you been all of my life?!?! But, actually, I remember having one of her books on goddesses in my collection during my first year of art school. I had several books on the Goddess and goddesses. I no longer have any of them on my shelves. I can't remember passing them along, nor why I had them to begin with. Did I purchase them? Were they gifts? I can't recall ever poring over them. I'm sure I didn't turn to them for inspiration (as I am wont to do now). What seems likely to me, not that it matters or is of interest to anyone other than me, is that I bought those goddess books for the sole purpose of finding the meaning of Sheela-na-Gig. (I've mentioned this before, under the MUSIC heading in <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/05/where-do-ideas-come-from.html" target="_blank">this post).</a> Once sussed, I never really gave the books another glance.</div>
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Full circle, eh?<br />
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*All quotes in this post are from:<br />
Gimbutas, Marija. <i>The Civilization of the Goddess: The World of Old Europe</i>. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1991.Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-50659266487002683692018-08-28T11:54:00.002-04:002018-08-28T11:54:44.917-04:00Distracted Deliberateness<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have not abandoned this space, dear readers. What began as silence due to distraction - complete inability to focus on anything from reading a single book to studio work to cooking meals to you name it - changed with reading these words:</div>
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". . . the more he talked about the book he wasn't writing, the harder it became to actually write."<br />- from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Ruins-Novel-Jess-Walter/dp/0061928178" target="_blank"><i>Beautiful Ruins</i></a> by Jess Walter</div>
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Avoiding this space due to distraction became deliberate silence. Rather than talking here about the ideas I have for work - work that I haven't begun - I am choosing to not talk. And rather than talking about it, I have been able to begin. Which I find fascinating. Perhaps more musings on that in the future, but, for now, the silence shall continue. Deliberately.</div>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-13229639644466759792018-07-26T14:38:00.000-04:002018-07-26T14:38:56.835-04:00Anger as Fuel for Creativity<div style="text-align: justify;">
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I am angry, people. Raging angry. These days, it seems to me that anger gets a bad rap. The bad rap is attached to the (mistaken) interpretation of anger as a violent action or as justification for destruction. Anger is an emotion, plain and simple. It is not action. It is not impetus. It is a feeling. <br />
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But far too often, and too often whipped up by sensationalist media stories, anger is equated with hatred, bigotry, close-minded judgement, and any number of destructive beliefs and/or behaviors that are employed as crutches to supposedly justify and explain rude, disrespectful, threatening, and/or violent actions. I do not subscribe to this understanding of anger. Rather, as poet David Whyte describes in <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Consolations-Nourishment-Underlying-Meaning-Everyday/dp/1932887342" target="_blank">Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words</a>, </i>anger is:<br />
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the deepest form of compassion, for another, for the world, for the self, for a life, for a family and for all our ideals, all vulnerable and all, possibly about to be hurt. Stripped of physical imprisonment and violent reaction, anger is the purest form of care, the internal living flame of anger always illuminates what we belong to, what we wish to protect and what we are willing to hazard ourselves for.</blockquote>
My internal living flame of anger was stoked mightily by my recent reading of <a href="http://www.judychicago.com/" target="_blank">Judy Chicago</a>'s <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Through-Flower-Struggle-Woman-Artist/dp/0595380468/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1532443526&sr=1-1&keywords=through+the+flower" target="_blank">Through the Flower: My Struggle as a Woman Artist</a>. </i>First published in 1975, I expected the material to be dated. I was unpleasantly surprised by how relevant the book remains. The institutionalized chauvinism, sexism, and phallocentricity that Chicago describes so thoroughly infuriated me, I had trouble sleeping for weeks. I seethed anger. My anger roiled into resentment.<br />
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When I took a step back and was able to identify the resentment, I realized it was clouding my anger. My resentment was pure negativity. It served no useful purpose. In fact, it blocked the channels, established long ago in my studio practice, that funnel my anger into creative work. With effort, I consciously and purposefully released my resentment.<br /><br />And then, the <i>a-ha!</i> moment. Resentment banished, yet still angry, I read a short piece in <a href="http://www.womankindmag.com/" target="_blank"><i>Womankind</i></a> magazine that focused my anger and provided a new avenue for creative work - ecofeminism. As described by Antonia Case in "Ecofeminism" (<i>Womankind</i> #16, pp 20-21):<br />
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French writer Françoise d'Eaubonne coined a term in the 1970s called <i>ecofeminism</i>, which examines the relationship between the exploitation of nature and the position of women in society, believing that there is a link that warrants further examination. D'Eaubonne argued that the ecological disaster we face is a result of a patriarchal system that treats nature as a resource to be used and exploited - dominated and controlled - rather than a precious reserve to be given the space and means to flourish.<i></i></blockquote>
I'm hooked. My anger has a focus, and a potential outlet in new work. While I plan to continue to make <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">yoni</a> pieces and work that <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-word-or-several-about-yoni.html" target="_blank">celebrates, venerates, the feminine</a>, I can't deny the part of me that gets fired up and energized by anger. Anger, for me, is a creative tool. Anger is inspiration. Anger is fodder for art. As David Whyte puts it, my anger truly does illuminate what I belong to, what I wish to protect, and what I am willing to hazard myself for. The form of expression I use for it is my art work, anger as creation rather than destruction.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-36596639296981985332018-07-12T12:11:00.001-04:002018-07-19T14:40:21.020-04:00Powerful, Poderosa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You've probably had enough of me banging on about how much I love <a href="https://o-wool.com/" target="_blank">O-Wool</a>, everything from the yarns, the humane and ecological sourcing practices, the ecological dyeing practices to the low-impact packaging and reusable, recyclable shipping materials. And I may have mentioned just once or twice that O-Wool is located practically in my back yard. Well. I had such a treat today. Jocelyn, the woman that is everything O-Wool, graciously allowed me to come to her office/warehouse to pick out yarn in person.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Photo credit: © Jen Lucas<br />Image source: <a href="https://o-wool.com/collections/patterns-cowls-scarves-shawls/products/poderosa" target="_blank">https://o-wool.com/collections/patterns-cowls-scarves-shawls/products/poderosa</a></span></td></tr>
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It all started with the monthly O-Wool email in my inbox, headed by the gorgeous shawl <a href="https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/poderosa" target="_blank"><i>Poderosa</i></a> designed by <a href="https://www.jenlucasdesigns.com/" target="_blank">Jen Lucas</a>. My <strike>thinking</strike> runaway brain went something like this:</div>
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Oh wow! That's beautiful.</div>
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Oooh. Look at all those beautiful suggested colorways of <a href="https://o-wool.com/collections/kits/products/yarn-for-poderosa" target="_blank">O-Wash fingering</a>. <br />
What's it called? Ponderosa? No. It's Poderosa. What's poderosa?<i><br />Poderosa</i> is a Spanish feminine adjective meaning <i>POWERFUL</i>.<br />
Really!?!?!?! I <i>HAVE</i> to make this. NOW. Have to.</div>
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It's light and airy lace. Surely that wouldn't be too hot to knit in the heat of summer.<br />
Oh man, what colors do I want to use? <br />
I wonder if O-Wool offers local pick-up to save on packaging and transportation?<br />
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So I asked. Not only did Jocelyn readily agree, she suggested I pick out my colors in person. It was great to meet her and ask how she got into the business and get a behind-the-scenes tour of O-Wool, a place that before now only existed for me in cyberspace. Thank you, Jocelyn! <br />
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P.S. The colors I chose are pictured at the top. Two skeins of Green Ash for the main color, and one skein each of Feldspar and Hemlock for the accent stripes.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-53221639728796605262018-06-14T15:21:00.000-04:002018-06-14T15:21:44.476-04:00Spinning<div style="text-align: justify;">
Spinning, spinning, spinning. Spinning my wheels without traction. Unlike spinning car tires in snow or mud, I don't feel like I'm uselessly digging myself in deeper, making a rut into which the wheels will be hopelessly stuck. Rather, it's akin to spinning on oil. Ceaseless spinning, no purchase, no hook. That's the obstacle to my art making of late. But, much like turning in circles, the view keeps repeating. The repeating ideas, the ones I keep circling back to, just might provide a little sand under the slick tires. Perhaps just enough to gain traction, traction that will build into momentum, momentum that will blossom into movement. </div>
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In the meantime, I did buckle down and begin a muslin of Shirt No. 1. I'm very proud of my bias binding. It doesn't make for a dynamic photo, but it makes me feel good to look at it. I've never made nor sewn with bias binding before now. Every set of instructions I've read over the years about how to make it left me flummoxed. The words just didn't add up to pictures of it in my head. Same this time round, but I leapt in anyway, hopeful that the actual physicality of following the directions would pan out. So far, so good. I have yet to sew my binding to the neckline of the shirt - those instructions make even less sense in my head than making the binding itself - but once it cools down enough that I can handle the fabric without sweating all over it, I'm ready to try.</div>
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Not intentional, but now that I noticed I have to mention this. Spinning my wheels as a metaphor for my inability to settle down and focus on making new art? Couldn't be more appropriate. I rode the train into Center City last week for the first time in ages. Gave myself the day off to wander, follow my curiosities as they arose. Regardless, on the 20 minute train ride - <i>literally moving along on spinning wheels</i> - I worked through some of those ideas I keep circling back to. I couldn't move my hand over the sketchbook pages fast enough to keep up with my brain.</div>
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With one fully-developed idea in place, but uncertain how to execute it, I headed to my creative reuse center (<a href="http://www.theresourceexchange.org/" target="_blank">Resource Exchange</a>) to hunt for a specific, discontinued yarn that I'd like to continue to use. (My dwindling stockpile dates to the early 90's. Anyone have a source for natural/unbleached 100% crochet cotton, size 10, that is NOT mercerized? The only stuff I can find has that mercerized sheen. I'm looking for something without sheen, thin and strong enough to use as embroidery floss.) I didn't find what I went in search of, but I did snap up 3 yards of surplus fabric that very well could be just the thing I need to execute one of the train riding brainwaves, spinning wheels and all. </div>
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With that perspective, perhaps spinning my wheels isn't so bad. Perhaps spinning my wheels is where I need to be right now. And perhaps the way to get traction isn't to beat myself up for spinning, but to spin faster and take lots of notes. (And then, of course, JUST GET STARTED, my perpetual sticking point.)</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-14994020743525909902018-05-31T14:25:00.000-04:002018-05-31T14:40:50.773-04:00Stacking and Unstacking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm a stacker. Give me a surface, I create a stack. Fabric, bills, papers to be filed, books to read, you name it. I do not particularly like this habit of mine. I'd prefer that I file the papers instead of merely stacking them. I guess for me stacking is the first step in the process. It requires sorting like with like, making each group into it's own like minded stack. The issue for me is then the stacks sit, neglected. Sometimes they continue to grow, or, more often, I forget what the unifying theme of the stack was at the time I created it. So I unstack it, resort it into new stacks. Sometimes this sort and stack activity gives me illusion of accomplishment. Most times I see through it as rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. And yet, I still do it.</div>
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With the completion of <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">Year of Yoni</a>, this is where I find myself. Without the structure, the expectation, the commitment to produce one piece a week, I am spinning my wheels. Creating stacks of potential projects to "get to at some point," rather than actually working on a project. Sure, I've been using the sewing machine now that it is accessible, but I'm not making art. And while it is satisfying to whip up a pillow cover for the couch or curtains for the kitchen, it's not the same gratification, engagement, challenge, problem solving, experimentation, self expression, curiosity and energy boost that I experience when making art. </div>
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I am truly puzzled at this resistance in myself to begin new work. Am I
avoiding it for a particular reason? Does the reason even matter? Why
not just P-U-S-H and get started? I don't know. Art's not happening, but movement is inching along with the house. This movement could be due to art avoidance, but I'll take it. Movement is good. And how fun is this? The fabric on the pillow cover pictured above is called "Laurie's Leaf." I've had this upholstery scrap for at least 8 years and never once noticed the name. </div>
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After writing recently about choosing a soft color for the now super brightly lit studio, I reconsidered my dark and dramatic color choices for the living room. While I love the dark aqua blue and believe the room would look fantastic painted that color, it's not a room I want to live in. It's a room I would admire in an architectural magazine, much like I love the minimal, crisp and clean atmosphere of Scandinavian rooms in all white and blond wood. I love that look, but it's not something I want to live with. Regardless, the color choice for the living room is now the soft green pictured in the center above. Behr color lemon mint.</div>
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And speaking of green, I decided to salvage the chalky, too yellowy, somewhat fluorescent green I ill-advisedly purchased for the kitchen. I mixed in much of the two dark aqua samples from the living room. I like the result. It may just get used in the kitchen after all. The yellowy green on the left is the original paint color, the cactus painted over it is the new mix.</div>
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And while I continue to change my mind about paint, I have settled on one thing. <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/487033279/100-acts-of-sewing-shirt-no-1-sewing" target="_blank">Shirt No. 1</a> by <a href="http://www.sonyaphilip.com/" target="_blank">Sonya Philip</a> of <a href="http://100actsofsewing.com/" target="_blank">100 Acts of Sewing</a> is the first garment I am going to attempt to make for myself from scratch. The pattern arrived in the mail just now. (Hah! I thought I would turn off the computer, pull out some muslin, iron, and get started on the shirt, but then I linked to Sonya Philip's website and looked what I found there: <a href="http://www.sonyaphilip.com/portfolio/index.php?/project/cervixes/" target="_blank">the felt cervix project</a>! Perhaps with this inspiration art will happen today in Laurie Land after all.)</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-32810584844279364542018-05-24T08:11:00.000-04:002018-05-24T08:11:31.836-04:00Revival<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R8urq9KtgQg/WwamB4lMjTI/AAAAAAAAIpM/Jl8sVhJrPxIHtDOGUMO8DDLNCGiQ5IxVQCLcBGAs/s1600/t1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="601" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R8urq9KtgQg/WwamB4lMjTI/AAAAAAAAIpM/Jl8sVhJrPxIHtDOGUMO8DDLNCGiQ5IxVQCLcBGAs/s1600/t1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Collar frayed to the point to disintegration, armpit holes you could drive a truck through, even the patched bleach-spot holes have holes. But I love this shirt. I don't know why, but I find the dinosaur chasing the fleeing vegetables stupidly hilarious. So, we have project #1 to get reacquainted with the ol' <a href="http://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2018/05/have-machine-need-surface.html" target="_blank">sewing machine</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qCDb3B2GezA/WwanJxsW7TI/AAAAAAAAIpc/YLGEYOv27ukgmY4-Hn6LImVxa8-CAabRgCLcBGAs/s1600/t2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qCDb3B2GezA/WwanJxsW7TI/AAAAAAAAIpc/YLGEYOv27ukgmY4-Hn6LImVxa8-CAabRgCLcBGAs/s1600/t2.jpg" /></a></div>
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First, I turned the kelly green dino shirt inside-out, taped it to a sunny window, and traced around the image with a chalk pencil (you can just make out the yellow chalk lines in the pic above). Then I cut out the front of the kelly green shirt, including the arm seams and collar. After ironing and turning the dark green shirt inside-out, I sprayed the front with washable adhesive. Then, carefully, I matched the kelly green shirt's collar and arm seams with the dark green shirt's and smoothed it onto the tacky adhesive.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BT0kX-18Qv4/WwanJzBrT0I/AAAAAAAAIpg/PCqF6uWucII0E7vj-6eKRc9m7qBKB49LACLcBGAs/s1600/t3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BT0kX-18Qv4/WwanJzBrT0I/AAAAAAAAIpg/PCqF6uWucII0E7vj-6eKRc9m7qBKB49LACLcBGAs/s1600/t3.jpg" /></a></div>
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Using a ballpoint needle and wide zigzag stitch, I ever-so-slowly stitched around the chalk line.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yjA4fiPBtHc/WwanJ87_4mI/AAAAAAAAIpY/0FttecbGVP4iiep7LnmGgUlKsXTMzG0ywCLcBGAs/s1600/t4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yjA4fiPBtHc/WwanJ87_4mI/AAAAAAAAIpY/0FttecbGVP4iiep7LnmGgUlKsXTMzG0ywCLcBGAs/s1600/t4.jpg" /></a></div>
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Then turned everything right-side-out and, breath held, snipped into the dark green shirt and peeled it away from the adhesive. I trimmed as close to the stitch line as I comfortably could, and then made a second pass with the zigzag stitch, all the way around the cut edge, this time from the front. Oh, yeah, I also trimmed the kelly green shirt to within about a half-inch of the stitches.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7enhr59iNNs/WwanKdGuUdI/AAAAAAAAIpk/z5j_k9mZTkEnjVBUuI10M7M6OkKakV7YQCLcBGAs/s1600/t5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7enhr59iNNs/WwanKdGuUdI/AAAAAAAAIpk/z5j_k9mZTkEnjVBUuI10M7M6OkKakV7YQCLcBGAs/s1600/t5.jpg" /></a></div>
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Ta-dah! New shirt that can comfortably be worn in public. In polite company, even. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ezan2B8Th2g/WwanKnsErgI/AAAAAAAAIpo/fpxbIzjZXpI9pykpEE_P_wZ_SGyq6gKzwCLcBGAs/s1600/t6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ezan2B8Th2g/WwanKnsErgI/AAAAAAAAIpo/fpxbIzjZXpI9pykpEE_P_wZ_SGyq6gKzwCLcBGAs/s1600/t6.jpg" /></a></div>
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One last move. Instead of my usual jotting down of stitch length and gauge and whatever else I think might be helpful on whatever tiny scrap of paper or envelope or bill that might be handy (which history proves will disappear as soon as I go looking for it), I actually wrote down what I did in a notebook. Imagine. Having all my sewing notes and ideas for improvement in one place. Something that can be located and referred to later. Crazy, I know. With 3 more t-shirt revivals on deck, these notes will be useful. I mean, I am pretty good at this point in my life at reinventing the wheel every. single. time. I make something. But I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, there might be a more efficient and less maddening way to proceed. The jury is out.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-8128606208175077212018-05-22T11:57:00.000-04:002018-05-22T11:57:07.701-04:00Have Machine, Need Surface<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eW-jeIBESls/WwQ2htzsE8I/AAAAAAAAIok/T1hejlF2vZ4dUCMWL0VwTd6K51gujXLIACLcBGAs/s1600/studio1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eW-jeIBESls/WwQ2htzsE8I/AAAAAAAAIok/T1hejlF2vZ4dUCMWL0VwTd6K51gujXLIACLcBGAs/s1600/studio1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yCYboycFN7s/WwQ2hoJaZZI/AAAAAAAAIoc/PVU4EIoBOywaNELPyDSNOL-ygRUcgP1uwCLcBGAs/s1600/studio2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yCYboycFN7s/WwQ2hoJaZZI/AAAAAAAAIoc/PVU4EIoBOywaNELPyDSNOL-ygRUcgP1uwCLcBGAs/s1600/studio2.jpg" /></a></div>
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With a week of rain (and lack of ambition) thwarting work in the yard, this past weekend I refocused on my studio. Namely, putting an end to my number one excuse for not starting the process of teaching myself to make my own clothes: no permanent work space to set-up the sewing machine and hold works-in-progess. That was my only goal. To create a work surface for my sewing machine. </div>
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Before I blather more, explain something to me. How is it that the utter chaos of the mess engendered by any big rearrange of space does not look nearly as disruptive and crazy making in photos as it is being in the actual space? I just don't get that. I'm sitting in the space pictured above, right now, typing this. The chaos has rearranged and changed since taking the photos, but it's still uncomfortable to be in here amidst the clutter-y mess. Being in the space makes me nuts. While, oddly to me, looking at the photos of the space doesn't make me feel nuts. Weird.</div>
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Anyway, that's the studio pictured above, as of Saturday morning. The table I was using as a desk is flipped over in the foreground, waiting for me to remove the legs so as to fit it out the door to stack elsewhere until we figure out what to do with it. It was both too short lengthwise and too long depthwise to be useful in this room. </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aqlYrAY1F6A/WwQ2huWhv0I/AAAAAAAAIog/tHGeVD4hLMY95VyTwdJ8Bgb1g4DcxshTwCLcBGAs/s1600/studio3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aqlYrAY1F6A/WwQ2huWhv0I/AAAAAAAAIog/tHGeVD4hLMY95VyTwdJ8Bgb1g4DcxshTwCLcBGAs/s1600/studio3.jpg" /></a></div>
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Removing the table/desk, and moving the computer out of the way freed up the eggplant wall. I took advantage and patched, caulked, sanded, and primed with stain blocker. And the Hubs kindly replaced the dim, inadequate, ugly boob light ceiling fixture with an inexpensive, yet impressively bright, fixture.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ly_ctcYrNNU/WwQ2iPC3TOI/AAAAAAAAIoo/Ock_9RniCz8pFBYNxLUlo71fuqRO5r4VACLcBGAs/s1600/studio4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ly_ctcYrNNU/WwQ2iPC3TOI/AAAAAAAAIoo/Ock_9RniCz8pFBYNxLUlo71fuqRO5r4VACLcBGAs/s1600/studio4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4HmhMM47X18/WwQ2iaP7Q5I/AAAAAAAAIos/zQinX_Wqeu4IReJBclPhX4rFYhQ9byleACLcBGAs/s1600/studio5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4HmhMM47X18/WwQ2iaP7Q5I/AAAAAAAAIos/zQinX_Wqeu4IReJBclPhX4rFYhQ9byleACLcBGAs/s1600/studio5.jpg" /></a></div>
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Covering up that dark, light-sucking wall combined with replacing the ceiling light COMPLETELY changed the room. Oh yeah, the sun also came out Sunday for the first time in a week.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xDezH14PH3Q/WwQ2i59tSvI/AAAAAAAAIow/h7vvxG9K39IzE7JsyHtDL4H8Tx0SrZ4uwCLcBGAs/s1600/studio6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xDezH14PH3Q/WwQ2i59tSvI/AAAAAAAAIow/h7vvxG9K39IzE7JsyHtDL4H8Tx0SrZ4uwCLcBGAs/s1600/studio6.jpg" /></a></div>
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Here's where I am sitting now. Eight feet of uninterrupted work surface. A permanent work surface for the sewing machine. And did I mention BRIGHT? The quality of the light changed so much in here that the 3 super bright paint colors I was considering - that all looked pretty good in the previous murk - are now presenting way too intense. This is now the only room in the house that wants a soft color on the walls. I can roll with that.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-28719467941717005182018-05-17T15:54:00.001-04:002018-05-17T15:54:57.127-04:00Paint, Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eN_Ul_khH2M/Wv3S3Y89F3I/AAAAAAAAIns/Yi83erqd_vUyZTE_FQbURXx3rqza3hnXgCLcBGAs/s1600/paint1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eN_Ul_khH2M/Wv3S3Y89F3I/AAAAAAAAIns/Yi83erqd_vUyZTE_FQbURXx3rqza3hnXgCLcBGAs/s1600/paint1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Here I am again, <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2014/08/paint-quandary.html" target="_blank">paint quandary</a> land*. Yet again, the challenge is to find paint that brightens a dim room. Except, unlike the hallway in Ohio, our living room light changes wildly throughout the day and season to season. That apple green (take my word for it) on the left is what I chose for the living room and upper part of the adjoining eat-in-kitchen. The green on the right was intended for the majority of the kitchen. What looked super vibrant on the paint chips, no matter their location in the rooms, no matter the time of day, (I was so confident of these color choices that I bought 2 gallons of the light green, 1 gallon of the dark) looks BLAH with actual paint. So washed out and chalky bland. Pfffffffffffffffffttttt.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sa-Ccd-wx5A/Wv3S3cCdUaI/AAAAAAAAIn0/nASoGRVM-qsZA74od86ub9rDA_tsjA1sQCLcBGAs/s1600/paint2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sa-Ccd-wx5A/Wv3S3cCdUaI/AAAAAAAAIn0/nASoGRVM-qsZA74od86ub9rDA_tsjA1sQCLcBGAs/s1600/paint2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Step 2. Cover the light green square on the living room wall with the darker green. Still a no go. This photo is a little over brightened. The green looks completely washed out on the wall in reality.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GpigrFJnZ_s/Wv3S3WfTPrI/AAAAAAAAInw/-fIApq8GeFEbWaVDJbzoHAZiuME_K07QwCLcBGAs/s1600/paint3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GpigrFJnZ_s/Wv3S3WfTPrI/AAAAAAAAInw/-fIApq8GeFEbWaVDJbzoHAZiuME_K07QwCLcBGAs/s1600/paint3.jpg" /></a></div>
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Step 3. Embrace the dimness. Rather than attempt to brighten the dark room, I decided to create a rich, cozy space with a dark turquoise or dark blue. The 8 oz sample of blue #1 is above. A little too bright for what I picture in my mind. Hence the chips of blue taped to the wall. I selected so many sample chips at the store that the shop clerk gave me a full swatch book to keep. More options to choose from isn't necessarily helpful.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X_1AKklVqFY/Wv3S397m_xI/AAAAAAAAIn4/vtAt24cGIMcMPyW3UlexxQnX7iciDXWpgCLcBGAs/s1600/paint4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X_1AKklVqFY/Wv3S397m_xI/AAAAAAAAIn4/vtAt24cGIMcMPyW3UlexxQnX7iciDXWpgCLcBGAs/s1600/paint4.jpg" /></a></div>
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Step 4. Got another 8 oz sample. Blue #2 is on the left. Blue # 1 is on the right. Something between the two is what I am after. At least I think that's what I'm after. It's really hard to predict what colors will do given the location in the room and the time of day. I do think I'm inching ever closer to THE ONE, though. </div>
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Light green = Behr paint, Eggshell finish; Olympic color Lettuce Alone OL623.3</div>
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Dark green = Behr paint, Eggshell finish; Olympic color Lime Green OL623.4</div>
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Blue # 1 = Behr paint, Eggshell finish; Behr color Precious Stone M470-6</div>
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Blue # 2 = Behr paint, Matte finish; Sherwin-Williams color Loch Blue SW6502<br />
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*Here's the color that busted open the Ohio paint quandary. An awesome orange that, unfortunately, looks too pink or too washed out everywhere in our new house.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_QJsF-2pU7A/Wv3dLsEIofI/AAAAAAAAIoQ/nfG_02gm7GgyAAmt6h5oUd8QKZps7VqlQCLcBGAs/s1600/entry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_QJsF-2pU7A/Wv3dLsEIofI/AAAAAAAAIoQ/nfG_02gm7GgyAAmt6h5oUd8QKZps7VqlQCLcBGAs/s1600/entry.jpg" /></a></div>
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Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-44141587942112084222018-05-15T08:00:00.000-04:002018-05-15T08:00:08.591-04:00Year of Yoni: Week 52<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FUYy70LS5Mg/WvoHqW8MICI/AAAAAAAAInc/6nc_CtY-CpEZRbBpzcuMNGYkL1_tebvqACLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FUYy70LS5Mg/WvoHqW8MICI/AAAAAAAAInc/6nc_CtY-CpEZRbBpzcuMNGYkL1_tebvqACLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni52.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">Year of Yoni</a> is a self-assigned studio practice with which I have committed to make a new yoni once a week for at least one year. A broad explanation of yoni and this project can be found <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-word-or-several-about-yoni.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-28992694804626176312018-05-03T10:51:00.000-04:002018-05-03T10:51:59.175-04:00Year of Yoni: Week 51<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-34A3UCI6CGg/Wushq751z2I/AAAAAAAAInM/k6jHFSQYpI8v9vrISJTYzpnVL6P5guJ_wCLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-34A3UCI6CGg/Wushq751z2I/AAAAAAAAInM/k6jHFSQYpI8v9vrISJTYzpnVL6P5guJ_wCLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni51.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">Year of Yoni</a> is a self-assigned studio practice with which I have committed to make a new yoni once a week for at least one year. A broad explanation of yoni and this project can be found <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-word-or-several-about-yoni.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-88121393063180447292018-05-01T07:59:00.000-04:002018-05-01T07:59:11.439-04:00Year of Yoni: Week 50<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9swwUozZhjE/WuhWU0h2ciI/AAAAAAAAIm8/6CbS-_dQnyUrd17kx187ZTTZPipgkdeAgCLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9swwUozZhjE/WuhWU0h2ciI/AAAAAAAAIm8/6CbS-_dQnyUrd17kx187ZTTZPipgkdeAgCLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni50.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">Year of Yoni</a> is a self-assigned studio practice with which I have committed to make a new yoni once a week for at least one year. A broad explanation of yoni and this project can be found <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-word-or-several-about-yoni.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-37656524962141084942018-04-26T11:09:00.001-04:002018-04-26T11:09:20.443-04:00Year of Yoni: Week 49<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-akymnPx9Xko/WuHrcWvTZxI/AAAAAAAAIms/vSaFAFIpKmgTh4mVrJj2CdvxwReeParXACLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-akymnPx9Xko/WuHrcWvTZxI/AAAAAAAAIms/vSaFAFIpKmgTh4mVrJj2CdvxwReeParXACLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni49.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">Year of Yoni</a> is a self-assigned studio practice with which I have committed to make a new yoni once a week for at least one year. A broad explanation of yoni and this project can be found <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-word-or-several-about-yoni.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-88617256872061550322018-04-17T13:52:00.001-04:002018-04-17T13:52:47.067-04:00Tech Troubles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-icYprxOh58w/WtYwlTB2iRI/AAAAAAAAImM/4lLs6rLyvHQ-xYCSufZyBZeFb2KR8pfoQCLcBGAs/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-icYprxOh58w/WtYwlTB2iRI/AAAAAAAAImM/4lLs6rLyvHQ-xYCSufZyBZeFb2KR8pfoQCLcBGAs/s1600/1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Hey chickadees, things are probably going to remain quiet here for the foreseeable future since my computer is not happy. I have a 10+ year old iMac that is wonderful in each and every way except that the display keeps going completely black. And the only place I have all the software I need, not to mention 10+ years worth of files and photos, is - you guessed it - the unhappy iMac. With an external hard drive on the way, supposedly compatible with my ancient operating system, backups of everything are imminent. At least that's something. </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5wPe-t-DJ8/WtYwlWzy6QI/AAAAAAAAImU/QvTdlWNcHHwUwFVbPVoybCEnPzBfAjWdQCLcBGAs/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5wPe-t-DJ8/WtYwlWzy6QI/AAAAAAAAImU/QvTdlWNcHHwUwFVbPVoybCEnPzBfAjWdQCLcBGAs/s1600/2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Does anyone else out there despise and resent planned obsolescence as much as I do? I haven't updated my OS since purchasing my iMac because upgrades would be incompatible with my Adobe Creative Suite software. And I can't update my Creative Suite, because I have the last version that was available for one-time purchase. It's all now only available by monthly subscription. Not only do I not have that kind of cash to spend endlessly on software, I'm not keen on constant updates and changes in usability. Wah, wah, wah, right? </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iJYEATEHCmg/WtYwlRJxs4I/AAAAAAAAImQ/HVecgFtqIy4wUm88hTO4uqjdIS3T3PANQCLcBGAs/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iJYEATEHCmg/WtYwlRJxs4I/AAAAAAAAImQ/HVecgFtqIy4wUm88hTO4uqjdIS3T3PANQCLcBGAs/s1600/3.jpg" /></a></div>
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It's obvious that a new computer is necessary, but I have yet to figure out a workable (ie affordable within my budget) solution to my software needs. Any advice is gladly (and desperately) welcomed.</div>
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In the meantime, if the temperamental screen decides to work for more than 3 seconds at a time, I will try to keep up with yoni posts at the very least. But please, don't hold your breath. The tech gremlins aren't playing nice.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Nbi34s4sok/WtYwmCH81YI/AAAAAAAAImY/yk4TZ3Bj-f0HXP1ebTXPu2blg_JKmxSEwCLcBGAs/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Nbi34s4sok/WtYwmCH81YI/AAAAAAAAImY/yk4TZ3Bj-f0HXP1ebTXPu2blg_JKmxSEwCLcBGAs/s1600/4.jpg" /></a></div>
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In other news, it's thankfully not all doom and gloom. I got completely immersed mending these jeans - the really focused immersion where time ceases to exist - and made them wearable again in a single afternoon. It feels so good to complete a project in a single, focused chunk of time. I forgot how good it feels. <br /><br />The front legs were getting threadbare, with one knee busted out. I saved the packaging from a couple sets of flannel sheets that were sold inside cube shaped pouches sewn with the same fabric as the sheets. Picked apart, the pouches were each a cross shape of super soft cotton flannel. I lined the inside of each front leg of the jeans, from crotch to a few inches above the ankle, with a strip of flannel. After cleaning and oiling my sewing machine, I machine stitched the flannel into place. Then I zig-zagged back and forth over the busted out knee, attaching the frayed jeans fabric to the flannel. I covered that less-than-lovely looking mess with patterned calico on the outside of the jeans. They make me happy. And they're oh so buttery soft to wear.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514432667920340767.post-29330333159954253552018-04-09T08:00:00.000-04:002018-04-09T08:00:32.416-04:00Year of Yoni: Week 48<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-naJ8ODig48U/WspO8Dlh92I/AAAAAAAAIl8/BjS6r8GVeXQkCkdyFxMa58H7N6S2748kQCLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-naJ8ODig48U/WspO8Dlh92I/AAAAAAAAIl8/BjS6r8GVeXQkCkdyFxMa58H7N6S2748kQCLcBGAs/s1600/Yoni48.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/search/label/year%20of%20yoni" target="_blank">Year of Yoni</a> is a self-assigned studio practice with which I have committed to make a new yoni once a week for at least one year. A broad explanation of yoni and this project can be found <a href="https://oddbirdstudio.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-word-or-several-about-yoni.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
Lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12852559868845123838noreply@blogger.com0