round and round and round i go. i was going to go with embroidery stitches only on this one. i’ve been studying the old one. the one from scott’s great grandmother lola ( here )
it has stitches i can’t identify but it seemed not to fit.

this one is an end to something. all old fabrics gifted or found, old stitcheries and done in my usual fashion, “sewn up one side and down the other”, fitting as i go. no measuring no cutting just tearing and sewing together and then sewing in circles.

days of heaven.
days of hell.

this is the verge. the tipping point. i have no idea what comes next but i’m looking forward to it.

round and round and round i go. i was going to go with embroidery stitches only on this one. i’ve been studying the old one. the one from scott’s great grandmother lola ( here )
it has stitches i can’t identify but it seemed not to fit.

this one is an end to something. all old fabrics gifted or found, old stitcheries and done in my usual fashion, “sewn up one side and down the other”, fitting as i go. no measuring no cutting just tearing and sewing together and then sewing in circles.

days of heaven.
days of hell.

this is the verge. the tipping point. i have no idea what comes next but i’m looking forward to it.

round and round and round i go. i was going to go with embroidery stitches only on this one. i’ve been studying the old one. the one from scott’s great grandmother lola ( here )
it has stitches i can’t identify but it seemed not to fit.

this one is an end to something. all old fabrics gifted or found, old stitcheries and done in my usual fashion, “sewn up one side and down the other”, fitting as i go. no measuring no cutting just tearing and sewing together and then sewing in circles.

days of heaven.
days of hell.

this is the verge. the tipping point. i have no idea what comes next but i’m looking forward to it.

i think of this as a portrait of myself and the dishwasher.

if the books on our shelf tell a story about who we are then our netflix queue is just as revealing though i’m not quite sure what either collection says about us.

yes we watch biographies and documentaries and foreign films though not many french anymore as i think we’ve seen them all! we’ve got anthony bordain’s no reservations and a whole mess of old movies like dial m for murder and night of the iguana. we also have south park episodes and we have been known to watch really offensive american movies like pineapple express and step brothers though the latter only played for 7 minutes before i turned it off. this all seems a little…untoward to me.
and interesting.

while i find myself endlessly fascinating my daughter would beg to differ. she is engrossed in her search for self and sees me settled into a deeply boring life and her father as maybe a little…dangerous.

i can’t imagine why.

i think of this as a portrait of myself and the dishwasher.

if the books on our shelf tell a story about who we are then our netflix queue is just as revealing though i’m not quite sure what either collection says about us.

yes we watch biographies and documentaries and foreign films though not many french anymore as i think we’ve seen them all! we’ve got anthony bordain’s no reservations and a whole mess of old movies like dial m for murder and night of the iguana. we also have south park episodes and we have been known to watch really offensive american movies like pineapple express and step brothers though the latter only played for 7 minutes before i turned it off. this all seems a little…untoward to me.
and interesting.

while i find myself endlessly fascinating my daughter would beg to differ. she is engrossed in her search for self and sees me settled into a deeply boring life and her father as maybe a little…dangerous.

i can’t imagine why.

i think of this as a portrait of myself and the dishwasher.

if the books on our shelf tell a story about who we are then our netflix queue is just as revealing though i’m not quite sure what either collection says about us.

yes we watch biographies and documentaries and foreign films though not many french anymore as i think we’ve seen them all! we’ve got anthony bordain’s no reservations and a whole mess of old movies like dial m for murder and night of the iguana. we also have south park episodes and we have been known to watch really offensive american movies like pineapple express and step brothers though the latter only played for 7 minutes before i turned it off. this all seems a little…untoward to me.
and interesting.

while i find myself endlessly fascinating my daughter would beg to differ. she is engrossed in her search for self and sees me settled into a deeply boring life and her father as maybe a little…dangerous.

i can’t imagine why.

it’s cute right?
too cute.

and it doesn’t look anything like this anymore. a few weeks ago there were monk’s robes hanging in the window and there was a pet snail. i saved that snail’s life by showing it to the monk. it was living in the squash bed and now it lives in a Buddhist temple in NY city. the monk wants me to send him another one so he can breed a white snail. why? for his jewelry. i don’t know how long snails live but i think he might have a bit of a wait for the shell.

so now the studio has brilliant orange and teal curtains and colorful batiks on the bed and a bob Marley pillow and instead of a rug there are dirty clothes and books covering almost every inch of the floor. really, I’m not exaggerating. there is a little space in front of the door.
she’s baaack!

the monk wants the studio back. he has changed his retirement plans he says. i think he may have given up his Alaskan retirement plan altogether now. the one involving a bottle of brandy and a long walk in the snow.

that is the power of the studio.
and the lair.
i guess he and em will have to work it out amongst themselves.

i’ve got the sewing machine out and i’m runnin‘ that baby like it’s a hot rod. i’ve created some beautiful things. clothes mostly but there is a quilt in the works.
i’m liking it.
i’m in the groove.

it’s cute right?
too cute.

and it doesn’t look anything like this anymore. a few weeks ago there were monk’s robes hanging in the window and there was a pet snail. i saved that snail’s life by showing it to the monk. it was living in the squash bed and now it lives in a Buddhist temple in NY city. the monk wants me to send him another one so he can breed a white snail. why? for his jewelry. i don’t know how long snails live but i think he might have a bit of a wait for the shell.

so now the studio has brilliant orange and teal curtains and colorful batiks on the bed and a bob Marley pillow and instead of a rug there are dirty clothes and books covering almost every inch of the floor. really, I’m not exaggerating. there is a little space in front of the door.
she’s baaack!

the monk wants the studio back. he has changed his retirement plans he says. i think he may have given up his Alaskan retirement plan altogether now. the one involving a bottle of brandy and a long walk in the snow.

that is the power of the studio.
and the lair.
i guess he and em will have to work it out amongst themselves.

i’ve got the sewing machine out and i’m runnin‘ that baby like it’s a hot rod. i’ve created some beautiful things. clothes mostly but there is a quilt in the works.
i’m liking it.
i’m in the groove.

it’s cute right?
too cute.

and it doesn’t look anything like this anymore. a few weeks ago there were monk’s robes hanging in the window and there was a pet snail. i saved that snail’s life by showing it to the monk. it was living in the squash bed and now it lives in a Buddhist temple in NY city. the monk wants me to send him another one so he can breed a white snail. why? for his jewelry. i don’t know how long snails live but i think he might have a bit of a wait for the shell.

so now the studio has brilliant orange and teal curtains and colorful batiks on the bed and a bob Marley pillow and instead of a rug there are dirty clothes and books covering almost every inch of the floor. really, I’m not exaggerating. there is a little space in front of the door.
she’s baaack!

the monk wants the studio back. he has changed his retirement plans he says. i think he may have given up his Alaskan retirement plan altogether now. the one involving a bottle of brandy and a long walk in the snow.

that is the power of the studio.
and the lair.
i guess he and em will have to work it out amongst themselves.

i’ve got the sewing machine out and i’m runnin‘ that baby like it’s a hot rod. i’ve created some beautiful things. clothes mostly but there is a quilt in the works.
i’m liking it.
i’m in the groove.

patty melt with a pickle and some kettle brand potato chips, (the tuscan three cheese is pretty deadly) and a cup of chai.

ingredients for the patty melt are: tuna in spring water, dried cranberries, mango chutney, mayo, mustard (the good kind with seeds in it), parsley from the garden, green onions and provolone cheese. grill on stove with lots of butter.

mmmm.

patty melt with a pickle and some kettle brand potato chips, (the tuscan three cheese is pretty deadly) and a cup of chai.

ingredients for the patty melt are: tuna in spring water, dried cranberries, mango chutney, mayo, mustard (the good kind with seeds in it), parsley from the garden, green onions and provolone cheese. grill on stove with lots of butter.

mmmm.

patty melt with a pickle and some kettle brand potato chips, (the tuscan three cheese is pretty deadly) and a cup of chai.

ingredients for the patty melt are: tuna in spring water, dried cranberries, mango chutney, mayo, mustard (the good kind with seeds in it), parsley from the garden, green onions and provolone cheese. grill on stove with lots of butter.

mmmm.

somewhere between trader joe’s and the home despot i lost my wallet.
it wasn’t the $2 or the bank card or even my anthropologie gift card which granted, only has about $20 left on it, but still, it was the wallet itself i felt the loss of. it’s a little red faux leather thing with a little black monster with sharp gray teeth that folds over and holds the whole thing closed. i could drop that wallet in any of my purses and find it easily in and amongst the detritus. i would definitely miss that wallet. i couldn’t get that whole letting go thing to work for me.

so i’m feeling particularly hopeful and joyful and there is a spring in my step today despite this weird knee thing, because someone did call late in the evening and said someone had found it and i could pick it up anytime. and my $2 and my anthropologie card and my bank card and even my little post it list of things to get was still in there!

thank you whoever found my wallet and returned it! thank you dishwasher for going through all that rigmarole to get it back to me!
thank you.