like handmade, but better.
I made this little container to replace this old one because I don’t think I ever liked that green fabric, it was just a convenient size. I believe I’ll replace the tall one as well.
The dogwood is all abloom.
The dog is as cute as ever.
I found some old doodles when organizing.
I’m debating letting my bangs grow out. In the meantime, I can’t see.
I also have a lot of new totes coming to the shop next week.
For the truly creative mind in any field is no more than this—a human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create-to create-to create—so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of beauty and meaning his very breath is cut off from him. He must create. He must pour out creation. By some strange unknown pressing inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.
-Pearl S. Buck
Wishing you a wonderful and creative weekend.
I was going through some old files and came across these [horrible] scans of some of my old artwork circa 2002.
I used to do a lot of portraits. But I have to admit, I’m not drawing in any form nearly as much as I used to. All of my creative energy comes in the form of sewing lately. I do paint and draw from time to time, but never for very long and usually abandon the project early on.
My whole life it seems, I spent searching for my creative niche—trying many, many different mediums. (I even had one of those rock tumblers at one point!) Now that I have found it in sewing, it almost seems a little sad. Am I done trying new and different things?
How about you? Have you found your creative niche? Do you feel comfortable with it? Or does settling leave you feeling unsettled?
These past few days I haven’t quite been up to par, battling with an ear ache. It’s starting to clear though, so I’m back to work and stitching away.
I’ve been think a lot about color. I was going to say that as an artist it’s hard to avoid–but in truth, color is hard to avoid in every aspect of our lives. Just this summer, numerous times before eating dinner, I’ve looked down at my plate, at the veggies from the garden: carrots, squash, tomatoes, beets, green beans, radishes, peppers and thought: How colorful! My brother is a barrage of color. He paints everyday in the same pair of pants and t-shirt and the ratio of paint to fiber is starting to tip towards the former. And just this weekend, the rest of the family is no different, seeing as they spent most of it out on the porch painting gourds for an upcoming craft show we are participating in.
I’ve just started reading J K Huysman’s “Against the Grain.” In it I found a line:
“Of these three, he preferred orange, so confirming by his own example the truth of a theory he used to declare was almost mathematically exact in its correspondence with the reality, to wit:that a harmony is always to be found existing between the sensual constitution of an individual of a genuinely artistic temperament and whatever colour his eyes see in the most pronounced and vivid way.”
It got me thinking about what color I am most drawn to.
My brother once did this survey, purely to satisfy his curiosity and asked anyone he could at his work what their favorite color was. Once they got over the the initial confusion of not being asked what they watched on TV last night, there was a pretty consistent response among the sexes. Every woman said her favorite color was green and every man said his was blue (apart from one lone guy who said his favorite color was red.) My brother believes this because of the theory of father sky=blue and mother earth=green.
If asked this question, I’d probably instinctively say blue–it’s a color I’ve always felt draw to and comforted by. Though, gray has always held a very close second. I remember, one year in English class, having to chose our favorite color and write a poem or anagram about it and I chose gray (partly because so many other kids had already chosen blue.) The kid next to me curled his lip and said: “Gray’s kind of boring, isn’t it?” I had a little insecure pang inside of me and thought for a second, “Perhaps I should say it’s silver? Silver more interesting, right?” But no, I stayed true to myself and decided to stick with gray and all it meant. It’s representational of all the shades in between. There really is no black or white, right or wrong, good or bad.
My obsession with gray has taken root once again, especially with fall/winter fashions around the corner. Particularly the pairing of red and gray. I’m looking for a nice gray fabric to make myself a simple pencil skirt and wear it with red tights. I also just finished this little gray and red felt birdie ornament. (As well as a red and white one.”
So, what’s your favorite color? Is it constant? Or does it change a lot? With your mood? Or your surroundings? Or the seasons?
Liesl Made 