DAY 12

We have a winner.  Harley got to choose.  I made little slips of paper with your names on them, threw them into the air and instructed Harley to GET 'EM!!!!  The first name off his big silly tongue was SusanBknits.  Congrats, Susan!  You will need to send me your snail-mail address so that I can put this cherry treat in the post!  To everyone else, thank you so very much for taking the time to stop in and leave a comment.  Your thoughts mean the world to me.  I really enjoyed reading about why blogging is important to you.  I love that we all come to this creative venue from different places, but the bottom line is that we ALL derive a great deal of profound satisfaction from sharing our thoughts, our writings, our worlds.  Thank you.  

The season of the tomato is upon us.  Would it be overly boastful to admit to having some of THEE most gorgeous, unblemished tomatoes in Ulster County?  It's really true, mine are magnificent orbs - better than any other year.  I don't even want to know why.  The foliage on this cherry tomato plant reminds me of swiss chard - it's THAT green and starchy!  It practically smacks your hand when you go digging around in it for a treat!

Anne Hanson shared some tomato tips earlier this season and I pruned my plants, according to her instructions.  I was nervous about it, but hey Anne!  I think you are onto something!  People are clamoring for my 'mators!

My first cinderella.  You will become intimately connected with this group before the season is over.  Can you see the little cucumber poking out for its photographic debut?   There was another surprise hiding under the pumpkin foliage . . .

Imagine.  Hiding in the vegetable garden - away from prying eyes - my perennial passion flower.  (sigh)  It's very shy and very tenacious - good qualities in plants and in men.

My vegetable garden has made me a happy woman.  It started off poorly, if you recall.  The sweet orderly seedlings turned into a riot of color and shape and invited the weeds over for a slumber party.  They stayed and took steroids.  The rain ceased, the temperatures rose, I ran out of water for a moment and when I turned around the other night this intense grouping of green filled my senses -

Picasso said, "If I don't have red, I use blue" and like the great artist, I improvised freely.  When I ran out of landscape straw, I pilfered the lawn clippings.  No more tomato cages?  No problem, I found old wire and bent it into submission.  Arugula unproductive?  Ripped it out and planted mexican sunflowers.  I cannot remember ever enjoying the garden as much as I have this season.
There HAS been fiber-y stuff going on in small spurts.  Here's a hint ...

SCOTTY LOVE

LOOK!  My cousin found her.  Isn't she beautiful?  She wants to come and live at Cloudwalk.  She has white walls!  White.  Walls.  I think that she is just about perfect.  I made a block in her honor ...

My BFF has a dream trailer too.  She sent this image to me today after reading the blog.  I think that she should go ahead and order one and then we can hit the road, find like-minded women, circle the wagons and CREATE!

Geez Patty, aren't you glad that we have those big gas-guzzler SUV's of ours?  I always KNEW that they'd come in handy for things other than hauling yarn!  We could take them to Sheep & Wool next fall, and when we got tired, we could catch a nap and then hit the tents again!!!   

BLOCK ISLAND AND BEYOND

Happily, I know Block Island on an intimate basis.  It is a special place and it calls to me from time to time.  I have been thinking about imagination and how mine runs wild and unfettered.  And I remember that our imaginations are the domain of our inner world.  And that creativity is the path to that world.  So I set out, with fabric and thread and an imagination that sometimes runs so far ahead of me on the path that it takes everything I have to catch up.  


The essence of Block Island is deeply imbedded within my memory.  I went to fabric;

I was searching for the sand, the sky and the water as I knew it in early spring.  The waters off Point Judith are dark and teeming with life.  The sand is crisp and untouched by a human print and the sky is indescribable - changing from moment to moment - lavender, blue, yellow, pink.

The block comes into focus slowly.  I turn off the jury and judge in my head and simply sew -

Something resonates within, but I am unsure.  Natural light confirms some of my concerns -

Is this the beginning of a new quilt, or simply a page in the journal of a quiltmaker, one who is sadly separated from the sea?

UFO's

 There are many UFO's lurking within the rooms of my house.  I have committed myself to the completion of two quilt tops and a Christmas tree skirt, and perhaps I'll toss in a few knitted items that have been languishing about - all of this before the new year arrives.  I'm telling myself that this is a GOOD thing - that I have always worked best under pressure.  We'll see how it goes.

This vintage vest started out as a contender.  But, no matter how long and hard I've searched, I cannot find the yarn to complete it!  It's a mystery.  Sad too, because I like this old Rowan pattern and my stranded workmanship was really fine!  (I'd forgotten)

This piece is a real heart breaker.   The yarn is MIA - where could I have stored these lovely old skeins?  I am sorely tempted to send these two pieces to Morna over at Bittersweet  to see what kind of amazing creations she could fashion them into.  Have you seen what she can do with felting?  Totally extraordinary stuff.  Go ahead -take a skip over there, I'll wait...

Onward and upward - here's something that you don't hear a lot about in quilterly circles - this next piece is, (gasp) HAND quilted!!!  That's right, this was the LAST piece that I hand quilted.  It's a pivotal piece, deeply sentimental in a profound way - so much so that I have been unable to bring myself to finish it.

It is, without question, heavily influenced by Gwen Marston.  It is also the first quilted piece that I ever embellished with beads.  Which leads me to my discovery of Janice, over at idreamofbeading.  I walked into her brand new sparkling shop with this bad boy tucked under my arm.  I explained that I was there for the beads!!!  She nodded, with her cheshire-cat smile, and introduced me to the world of beading.  It was like learning Italian or salsa dancing or finding one's 'wind' when running.... unforgettable.  Janice gurl, I miss you!  When are you coming over for a brewski, I mean, beading session?

Anyway, I made this piece for the Can-Do-Guy's youngest child who is now in her second year of college, working toward a nursing degree.  She'd probably like to have her quilt before she graduates and it is ear marked as one of the pieces that will be finished before the New Year!  Hang in there, Bren, it's coming!  Check out this hand quilting ....

I used to really enjoy the process of quilting a large piece - and I do miss that quiet self-absorbed activity... the quick little sharp needle pushing through fiber like butter, the small evenly spaced stitches, the satisfaction of completing a hoop's worth - you hand quilters - you know of what I speak!!!  I think that there is another quilt in my future that requires my hand - I'll show that to you when I get the layers together - it's the second piece that I have committed to completion this year.


P.S. found a photo of my Janice vending at a local quilt show (do you recognize my pumpkin banner in the background?)  I tell her that I just want to back my SUV up to her booth and load it up!

COUSINS

There isn't more than a year separating my cousin from myself.  We grew up differently and mostly apart, but there was a connection between us from the beginning.  In later years, when we would sit and count our similarities, one thing seemed crystal clear - we had garnered the lion's share of talent that was bestowed upon our clan, and we both suffered (silently) from ADD.  Fifty years ago kids like us got whacked for twisting in our seats and deviling our classmates.  We were considered disruptive and problematic and sooner or later we were either ignored or dismissed as having nothing significant to contribute.  We both excelled in our art classes.  We could paint, we could draw, we could sculpt - but forget about anything like calculus or chemistry.  We inhaled literature - our noses always stuck in some obscure volume, or the back of the cereal box in a pinch!  We watched our classmates wave their excellent SAT scores over their heads and we watched them trot off to college.  My cousin ran away to join the hippies while I skulked off (reluctantly) to junior college.


But I digress.  


When we were young, our mothers-who-were-sisters, would put us together for a few days during our summer vacations.  My cousin was tender and easily given to tears.  For some unspeakable reason, this vulnerability of hers brought out the bully in me.  This is a confession, people.  I used to take my cousin for a walk past the dirt road that led to the creek.  I  would fill her head with ghoulish stories of hatchets and murders and then I would LEAVE HER THERE and run like hell for home.  Looking back, over my despicable shoulder, I would see her standing, frozen in place, fists balled into her eyes, crying for all she was worth.


 I think that I always relented and went back for her.  But she was so trusting, so gullible, that I could turn around and pull the same nasty trick on her the following day!  I was a bad child.  She was always a sweet forgiving soul, luckily for me.  And so, we have this history between us which makes us fast and firm friends and we will be, for life.  No matter what.  I would do anything for her.   


SO...... I walked down into the cramped room the other day that was once the servants quarters in this old house.   It's a little bit creepy, that space, with its low ceilings and the smell of disappointment clinging to its walls.  For the most part, I avoid that room altogether, using it for storage of seasonal decorations, etc.  There is no light until one actually climbs down the stairs into the room and flicks a switch.  As I was reaching for the switch in the dim light, I saw something move.  It scared the beJesus out of me.  It was unworldly, unholy.

It had a friend - 

Cousin - you did it.  You scared the ever-loving sheeeit out of me!  Are we even?  HELL, NO!  We are just getting started!  My cousin made these frightful dolls from the gourds that I grow.  She and I share a love for Halloween and all things ghoulish!  I think that she is way more Tim Burton-ish in her discipline than I, but we do savor and celebrate the macabre in our own special ways.  

Bella is thinking about what she wants to be for Halloween.  

Harley is more concerned about a nap, taken in a pool of October sunlight.

And I have been thinking about that orange project - it involves another interpretation of 'Storm at Sea', which I can never seem to get enough of.  Now it's time to say goodnight.  

THE SEEDLINGS HAVE SPROUTED

I opened this blog with an entry of a pieced table runner - do you remember?  Over time it grew into a wall hanging and I am happy to report that I have finished it!  It traveled back from Colorado two weeks ago where it was machine quilted by the iconic Linda Hibbert.  Her work continues to astonish me.  I sent her my little unadorned seedlings and she returned them in true Garden-of-Eden splendor!  


This weekend was about completion of the seedlings - Binding and Beading!  My finger tips are sore, my eyes are burning, but my creative soul is happy, content.  There was no knitting, which was the only truly disappointing part of my productive weekend.   There will be no new sweater to wear to Sheep and Wool - unless I forego sleep for the next five nights!



The process of binding the piece has become  second nature to me now.  I don't know what I did before the Walking Foot appeared on the scene.  Geez, I don't remember how I even CUT before the rotary cutter was invented!  I've seen many many changes occur in the quilting world, since I made my first quilt in 1972.   Here's a look at some of the process~

God bless the Walking Foot.  Then onward and upward to the ironing board~

Check out that wallpaper - it came with this old house.  One of these days I will be very happy to see it replaced.  My son swears that it has the propensity to bring on a seizure!  I never focus on it for any length of time.
Next, hours and hours of hand stitching the binding in place.  I do enjoy the repetitive nature of this chore, but am always relieved when I turn that last corner and can indulge in bead selection.  Auditioning beads can take up the better part of an afternoon, so I have trained myself to select only the bead bins where everything is neatly color coordinated.

I treat myself to a cup or two of green Chai tea and continue with the long hours of beading under the Ott light.  I worked so long into the night last night - I found myself watching old John Wayne films and thinking about my father.  I wanted to call him and tell him that one of his favorites was on, but for the cruel realization that he is in a nursing facility where his reality and mine never hold hands anymore.  I miss him.  He isn't gone, and yet I miss who he was.  He doesn't recognize my face, but sometimes I think he hears and knows my voice.  He weeps.

Today I sewed a nice envelope on the back of the piece for hanging.  And then I took it out under the apple trees where I could photograph it on the clothesline.  We are having a bit of a wind today, so please indulge me - I had to get some shots of the back of this piece where one could see the wizardry that is Linda.  When I look at these images, I am reminded of the little Silhouette books that I used to take out of the library.  Were they a part of your childhood too?  If memory serves, the books were always published in a turquoise cloth wrapper with the black cameo silhouette on the cover.  I was a voracious reader - always taking as many as I could possibly carry.  Remember - the backpack hadn't been invented yet!!!

Goodbye little seedlings!  Bloom where you are planted - on that lovely Parisian wall where I hope you will captivate and delight all who pass through.  God speed!

A DRAGON'S TALE

If you look closely you will find tiny dragon images scattered across this piece - there is so much to see and absorb and this piece is not yet bound or embellished.  I'll reintroduce it when the beads are all in place and the owl, magician and dragons have proper eyes!  Consider it the kick off to my favorite season - autumn and Halloween.  Much more to come...

SUNDAYS ARE FOR KNITTING, I mean QUILTING

Sundays are even better when it rains.  One can admire the gardens while sitting on the front porch with a good knit/quilt.  The problem is always the same - WHICH to choose.  I'm so confused!  This is a piece that I am creating for a friend who intends to gift it to her friend.  It's going to live in Paris!  First, it has to travel to Colorado where the Thread Magician lives, Linda Hibbert of www.Silverliningsoriginals.  She will illustrate, with thread, the stuff that dreams are made of.  Just you wait and see!