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tip. tap. tip. type. tip. tap. tap. tip. spending a bit of time at the typewriter these days. amazing small children. trying not to jam the keys. tip. tap. type. tip tap. in awe of typography.

loving the thwap, thwap, thwap, ding!

irregular letters, crooked lines!

forget email. i'm going to start sending you telegraphs.

Something Old

While cleaning out my grandmother's home, we found many little notes and descriptors that my grandmother had made and tucked into drawers and vases. In one of my last trips, my mom and I found a small box with a note that the contents were my great-grandmother's wedding lace. It is divine. It's old and there are tatters, but it is really the most amazing discovery I could have asked for as my own planning began.

I took it home to see about cleaning.

Sophie

My grandma, Sophie, passed away in early June. She was wonderful. As I got older, and smart enough to ask her about her life, I got to delight in these little moments of memory with her - jobs and travels and thoughts and experiences. In the last year, I tried to visit a bit more often. On the surface, she was quick to tell me that she liked it better when I wore skirts and my hair down. But when we sat on her porch under the Providence trees, I tried to remind myself to keep asking her questions about her life. Each question opened a new door and I was always glad I asked.

She reinforced the belief that homes should be built around books. She spoke up when it wasn't asked for or easy. We pealed apples with this silly little contraption that tumbled springy thin peals onto the counter. I make delicious grilled cheese for the boys in the betty crocker pocket sandwich maker she gave me when I was in college. I'm thankful for the adult years I had with her to appreciate what an incredible path she paved for me.
I love her indefinitely and totally miss her.

(hand drawn) hitches, (typed) knots, (quilted) balls & (letterpressed) chains

Sometime this spring --after summer clothes had been pulled from hidden closets, before all of the rain, after my speeding ticket-- Drew sat me down for an inauspicious conversation. I've tried to remember what he said, but all I remember is that it was a warm slow Sunday afternoon and the curtains looked really nice in the wind. I overheard him later telling my dad he just wanted to "make sure [she] wasn't going anywhere." It was sweeter than that, but I don't think anyone ever really wants to hear other people's sentimental moments. Suffice it to say, we decided we might just get hitched and thus began a vague few months of trying to decide what kind of celebration this kind of thing might call for.

Concurrently, a world of craft projects has been unlocked (handmade invitations, wedding favors, warm quilts for babies to lie on during the ceremony?). I love the man, but my craft heart fluttered just as loud.

So the Valentine's might have to take their first hiatus in 8 years & my sewing machine has had to share space with my typewriter. Stay tuned...

Peonies: Real & Sewn

I bought peonies a few weeks ago. I love bulbous fluttery flowers and peonies never let me down. I snapped a few photos to catch them as the petals started threatening to fall:
They managed to photograph with a lot of fluttery drama, which is saying something considering the lame cantaloupe color of our kitchen (of which I am really not a fan) and the fact that in person they were well on their way to decay. Never underestimate the beauty you can get with $9 at the grocery store.

Since taking them, I've wanted to recreate some textile peonies in some way and started a little project. First up, some 3-d petals wired together to make flowers (or, more accurately: A flower)
Project two: sewn peony pillows. They took some planning, but managed to stay pretty organic and roughly formed:

Each petal is topstiched to the linen. Here's a shot of the underside that belies the process a little:

The 4 best words a gal can hear.

Drew is great at making space and making spaces clean. He has made a lot of clean spaces for me to sew, but finally I just had to say "An art space isn't an art space if you have to clean it up." He suggested I get a studio. That sounded extravagant. But the next morning I was still thinking about it. I did a quick craigslist search and: voila - a few square feet in a shared space in Burlington. I called Drew to see what he thought: "Whatever makes you happy." Best words ever.

Moved in on June 1. Here are a few pics with my quilts hanging:
Look at all that space where anything can be left anywhere.

Linen & Vintage Calico

How can you object to either?
I bought some sand colored linen a while ago and couldn't think of the right project until I stumbled upon these vintage calico scraps at my favorite shop in Bristol (that also makes homemade beeswax candles. If I came into money, one of the first things I'd buy would be lots of beeswax candles, the smell is intoxicating.) But I digress.

I've been wanting to make mini-quilts for dolls, so I cut a few of the calicos into tiny quilting squares. But got distracted with these little test projects:

Little book with patchwork stripe.

Coffee stained pages inside (because I'm my mother's daughter and we take dying paper seriously).

Small bag with mismatched straps.

Upclose of the calico patch on the bag handle.


Meanwhile, the boys built bike jumps in the back yard...
Which reminds me, yesterday Batman helped me cut the squares...holy textiles!