In which I make something that's actually wearable

It'd be no lie to say that I'm an impatient, clunky seamstress. But dangitall, I keep on trying to make my own wearables, even if they never quite work out. Today I dusted off the sewing machine and attempted to make a skirt from my husband's old misshapen t-shirts. The skirt actually turned out just as I imagined. I like it. It's light and stretchy and has a cute pocket.

The only problem with recycling misshapen t-shirts is that they're, well, misshapen. But a little coaxing and trimming of the fabric cleaned up all the sagging edges nicely.

Best of all, I got to try out my fancy new scissors from one of my favorite shops in Seattle. Bitters, Co. specializes in wonderful fair-labor goods from around the globe. They have gorgeous things for the home, most of them well beyond my budget, except for these incredibly sharp, beautiful handforged scissors from India.

Can you see the artisan's inscription on the blade? They're really, really lovely.

New photos in the shop

I just added a handful of some of my most favorite photographs ever -- a series of Holga photos, and some nostalgic-feeling sepia-toned prints. Check them all out in the shop!

**Watermarks on photos are for web only**

Life is hard.

It seems that life has become increasingly difficult for Americans. Take blankets, for example. Blankets are so hard to understand. So a brilliant inventor created this (if you haven’t already seen it):



I thought of the Snuggie today during my morning commute. We were on the 520 bridge, a nice straight line across the water. There were no accidents. There was no merging traffic from the on-ramps. There weren’t even that many cars. But we were at a standstill. Dave and I rolled our eyes at each other, in agreement of one thing: straight lines are confusing. Just as confusing as blankets. And driving in a straight unobstructed line? That’s MEGA confusing.

Since you asked...

I am taking a break from my insane workday to clear my head and respond to a fun little interview from loyal reader zhoen. I feel so out of the loop and off the wall lately, struggling with an apartment full of boxes and mess, and a non-functional internet connection. So behold the 15-minute clarity break.

1. What is one media/tool/substance you would love to make art from, and never have, or maybe never will, and why.
I would love to be a printmaker with a big workshop full of ancient presses and huge heavy equipment. I would give my left arm for a letterpress. I have only dabbled in printmaking: photo litho, photo etching, screenprinting, lino-cut, and monotype. But to be able to try stone litho or make massive woodcuts, or even tiny etchings on copper plates would just make me flip out.

Why will I probably never do this? Space. The equipment is heavy and cumbersome, and we plan on renting for a very long time. And it can be messy. Patience. I have little, and these processes take time. I prefer instantaneous results, but admire the tediousness and care put into the craft. Funds. Yeah, printmaking can be expensive. I’ll just have to stick with my light portable instantly gratifying and relatively affordable gocco printing for now.


2. What are five somethings that make you happy, in each sense, smell, taste, sight, sound, feel?
Smell: Dave’s shaving cream. Swoon.
Taste: Curry + Coconut chocolate bars from Theo Chocolates.
Sight: The mountains. Every time we have a clear day, I can see them to the east and west and I never ever stop marveling at how beautiful they are. It never ceases to put me at ease.
Sound: Rain, heard on roof from a bed filled with blankets and warm dog.
Feel: I melt when anyone rubs my head or plays with my hair.


3. What are your favorite colors for umbrellas, socks, houses, dogs, and something else you have a favorite color for.
Umbrellas: Yellow, with a little wooden handle shaped like a duck.
Socks: Striped, multicolored.
Houses: I’m in love with several Seattle houses that are painted a deep midnight blue.
Dogs: I’m partial to spotty black and gray and brown conglomerations, seeing that I have my own paint-spattered dog to greet me every day.
Something else: I love the greenish rocks that wash up on the shores of the Puget Sound. They are the richest, most beautiful green when they are wet, and when they dry they turn gray and boring. I know their secret.

4. What is the hardest part of moving for you?
Dealing with the clutter of boxes. Not knowing where anything is, and then finding it, but not having a place to put it. Oh, and beyond that, coming up with first month’s rent, last month’s rent, and security deposit all at once really bites. But overall, I really like moving. I like the fresh start, and I love to decorate.

5. What is the best part of living in your new land?
I chose it. Nobody made me live here. I was not raised here. It is mine.

Thanks, z. That was fun!

6 and 6

There's a fun little taggy thing floating around where you're supposed to go to the 6th picture folder on your computer, post the 6th photo, and blog about it. So here's what turned up on my computer:

In the winter of 2007-2008, we were still in frosty frozen Wisconsin. It was an awful winter (although I hear this past winter was worse), but our pup sure loved it. She'd bury her snout in the snow and snort happily, and loved stealing snowballs from our gloved hands. Seeing my old backyard in this photo makes me feel a bit nostalgic for our little house in Bay View, with its screened-in porch, tree-stump table, and the sweet neighbors who passed fresh garden vegetables to us over the fence in the hot summer. Of course, on the other side of the fence we had psychotic neighbors who were constantly screaming at each other, playing rap music, and throwing shit in our yard. But I try to forget that.