Postcards

Postcards: mounted and ready for Open Studios. I got lazy and scanned these after I'd packaged them.

More after I get back from the studio. For now, from Jack London: "You can't wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club."

Fabric everywhere

My studio is a happy rat's nest of fabric, vaguely separated into color families.

After attending the Art to Wear opening at Cambridge Artist's Cooperative, I gave some of my quieter purses a fashion make-over.

Yesterday I delivered a half-dozen pillows to a local gallery. On a hunch, I also took the gallery four of my small quilt/art pieces. The owner called today to say she liked them. I'm hoping someone who shops there will too. I mounted some small quilts as wall pieces for the open studios in Lowell this weekend.
A quilt that's been on my wall since spring got some attention too. I don't think it will be ready for the RISD show next weekend, but it might at least be available to work on during Open Studios.Also made journals yesterday, to deliver to two stores. By tomorrow I'll have a dozen journals for the local gallery. Anyone know where I can get mice like those the Tailor of Gloucester had?

To top it off my daughter and I culled many many bags of unwanted stuff out of our closets.
Back to work....

Screens

As a break from pillow production I have been mucking about in Photoshop, developing new images to screen on fabric. I don't know what I'm doing, but sometimes it comes out interesting.

Now, when the leaves are gone, some will remain in my computer to play with.

Birds have been on my mind, too, from a distance:And up close:

Then there are some cool textures from the beach, including a spiderweb:


And the woods:

Sewing sewing

I have been making pillows.

A dozen delivered yesterday for resale. A dozen more to stores and for direct sale tomorrow.


After years of thinking of each piece as a fresh start, I finally discovered the advantage of sticking to good idea.

Music helps. Bonnie Raitt and the McGarrigle sisters have been on repeat, loud.

Sometimes unexpected variations occur. I had to paint these ladies up:

Can't wait to meet their companions. This morning I tinkered with some old family photos. They will show up on pillows soon.

Start your engines

Western Avenue Studios, now three-floors-plus, will be open for two days at the end of this month. Sunday afternoon I will demonstrate improvisational screen printing from 1-3. Probably will be working in the space outside the Lowell Fiber Studios on the 5th floor, doing resists with leaves and layered prints with thermofaxes. Only 30 minutes away from Cambridge, lots of free parking, and lots to see and do. Buy local: buy art.

Don't you miss summer?

From my sketch book. At the Cape, Catie the Wonderdog gets to lie in the grass. At home she must make do with the back porch.

Bread and Butter

Put my shoulder to the wheel to produce pillows for resale. I use them as color exercises. My new piping foot makes the finish work a little more interesting to do.


How do you balance the urge towards fine art and the need for cash? The gift items don't pay as well as bagging groceries but I get to work in my studio.


Some small pieces are in the queue to be finished and shipped as well. I call them "Portable Art:"

By the Sea

I brought my drawing supplies to the beach this year. You'll have to provide the sound effects.
Here's the life guard, looking for someone's twelve-year-old:
Can't you just see this guy's six pack beside him?
This woman is my favorite. She might work her way into a larger piece some day:

Today, though we're approaching drought conditions, the air is humid, filled with golden light, and you can smell the sea. I love when the air reminds me that Cambridge is a harbor town.

Back to Work

I braved my studio yesterday. Yikes stripes. I am reminded of the champion weightlifter I once heard on NPR, who said the hardest part of her workout was walking into the gym:

I managed to undo some piles and started making inventory for the fall sales. The room looks a little less chaotic now. Honest.

On the Way Home

Came home the slow way with the girls, taking 4 hours to return (compared to my husband's two). Why "scream" home, as he put it, when you can noodle, with the windows rolled down and the crickets singing? The quietest summer morning must be the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. Everyone who had to leave was gone, everyone who just came is still in bed. We found tomatoes at a self-serve stand, looking as beautiful as any art:
Then stopped at the Green Briar Nature Center. The buildings were closed, the trails deserted.
So after we admired the bunnies and got hissed by the swans, the girls built a fairy house while I sat by the pond in the sun. We lunched in the garden, then finally left. Now that is the way to come home, if you must.