Lettergirl

My morning so far.

Last week the proteges in my mentoring group got together for an incredibly colorful & delicious dinner and thoughtful conversation, and someone mentioned the commitment we had all made by joining the group.  I wondered to myself, "Have I really honored that commitment?"

Every morning I wake up about 6am so I can get in a couple hours work before the kids get up.  I wondered...couldn't I spend that morning time on textile work?  I am a morning person, after all.  Why not commit to using my most vibrant energy on my emerging art?

I've also set a goal to experiment this summer, and to that end have made a list of techniques I want to try.  One of them is stenciling on fabric (instead of freehand painting, which is what I usually do).  When I paint with a brush, the paint itself needs to be somewhat thick in order to keep crisp lines.  With stenciling, the paint can be a bit thinner.  Sometimes I like to have the weight of the handpainted lines, but I'd like to have an option with better drape in my toolbox too.

 
I started by drawing a stencil, loosely based on a motif in the Designer's Guide to Japanese Patterns.

 
I made a copy to be sure the stencil could be repeated to create a balanced pattern.

 
I traced my design onto Friendly Felt, a stiffened felt made from recycled plastic bottles.

 
The felt was easy to cut through with an xacto knife; I trimmed a few rough edges with sharp scissors.

 

 
I sprayed the back of the stencil lightly with spray adhesive, then practiced stenciling on an old tshirt.

 
Earlier this morning I had cut my favorite fitted tank pattern from a black XL tshirt I found at Goodwill.  I had originally planned to make the tank as a single layer with embellishment on only one panel...but the stenciling was so easy, I just might have to modify that plan.

 

Some thoughts on reading aloud.

Kate asked in the comments last week if I could share some tips on reading together as a family.  Feel free to add your own thoughts in the comments, too!

Make it a priority.  The things we really commit to are the things that actually happen, right?  It seems obvious, but sometimes even the obvious takes commitment and work.  Reading aloud was part of my adult life long before I had kids.  I'm not a big fan of driving, but my husband was happy to do it as long as I read aloud (Sherlock Holmes, Raymond Chandler).  Another of our family priorities is having dinner together.  Wouldn't it be easy to say, one child has a baseball game at 5:30 and the other has track practice at 6 so a family dinner just won't happen?  Instead, we have been eating a lot of 8:30 dinners.  (Of course we couldn't do that when the kids were younger, but they didn't have activities 4 nights a week when they were younger either.)  I try to focus on this:  the time we have with our kids as they're growing up is so short, how do I really want to spend that time?

Which came first?  Were my kids born to feel pleasure at being read to or did we instill that joy by doing it?  (Probably some of each.  I'm so very lucky I have two kids who can listen and imagine.)  We started with board books, moved to picture books, then early chapter books (My Father's Dragon was our very first, when J was 4), then books that were slightly more advanced than they were.  The people who know say to read a couple of grade levels ahead when you're reading aloud -- a great time to experience more complex sentence struture and vocabulary.  We took that advice with a grain of salt, as the kids are three years apart, and at some point, J was capable of reading everything anyway.  So we focus on the story itself and does it have the components that make it enjoyable reading -- which does include sentence structure & vocabulary, but also engaging characters, action, and humor.

Announce your intentions.  I've been telling my kids since they were little, "I'm going to read aloud to you even when you're in high school." 

Pick a time that works for you, when you can be consistent.  These days, about 75% of our reading is done in the car.  We even read on the way to grandma & grandpa's, which is 25 minutes away.  We read a lot more in the summer than we do the rest of the year.  Before I had kids, I read an article that suggested reading to your kids while they're washing the dishes.  Doesn't that sound lovely?

We also have several books going at once -- our family book (for all four of us), a book for just J & F & me in the summer since we're home together more, and a book for just F & me because it gives us some special time together.  And I wonder why it takes me three weeks to read a book of my own!

Who will do the reading?  In our family, it's almost always me -- because I enjoy it.  My husband & I took turns reading the last part of Bridge to Terabithia, because neither of us could go more than a paragraph or two without getting overwhelmed by grief.  (And incidentally, I think that's one of the many benefits of reading together, when your kids see that you've entered that world too, and that you are openly expressing your emotions about it.  When J & I read Walk Two Moons, I cried so hard I had to put the book down.)  Sometimes J reads to us in the car if I'm driving or tired.  If you don't want to do all the reading yourself, you can make listening to audiobooks an event.  A few years ago, in the deep of winter, we switched from watching movies as a family to listening to an audiobook (The Thief Lord, narrated by Simon Jones -- highly recommended!), including all four of us snuggled up on the couch eating popcorn.

Make it happen.  The sooner you start and the more consistent you are, the more your family will expect and even anticipate it.  For us, it is some of our most valued family time.  Here are a few other resources:

Jim Trelease (author of The Read Aloud Handbook)

The Books for Walls Project

Summer Reading by one of my blog readers

Newbery Medal booklist

 

 

 

Sticks & stones.

My new sticks & stones set, based on an old Burda pattern.

I shared a bit of the process on this post back in January.

I wish I'd known more (which is to say, anything) about draping before I'd started this project.  I brought it with me to my draping class in April just to see how it would hang and to adjust the darts on the tank.  I am hoping to tweak the shoulders a bit once I get my own dress form.  (So many dress forms to choose from; the ones that would look gorgeous standing in the corner of your studio are not necessarily in the shape of a real body.  The diy duct tape method is down & dirty, but you can't pin into it.  The kind that you create to fit yourself require some effort -- and assistance -- but would be so very helpful with fit.  That is what I'm planning to get, once I can set aside time to make it happen.)

I love the details, the topstitched darts in the jacket front and sleeve.

Recently I was re-reading a few pages of Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit, and I got to thinking about which I enjoy more, the process or the result.  I'm guessing that's a spectrum, and each project falls somewhere on it.  The stitching for each sleeve took about 20 hours; add in the painting and the construction for a grand total of 50 hours.  50 hours of meditative stitching, 50 hours of holding soft fabric in my hands, 50 hours of process.  In the end, I will either need to exhibit this as art or hide it in my closet for awhile, to be stumbled upon unexpectedly one day, like an old friend.

Recycled Friday.

 
I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed by the start of summer.  Usually I spend a little time in May setting goals for the summer, planning what I need and want to accomplish between Memorial Day and Labor Day, but May passed in such a whirlwind of etsy orders and custom lettering projects and school activities that I never got around to it.  Even I am amazed at how unsettled that has made me feel the last few weeks!  Yesterday I took a luxurious 75 minutes with all my various notebooks and made my plan.  I don't usually cross everything off my list, but I do more and enjoy more when I have my priorities in order.

Yesterday Kate asked about family reading time and I'll try to write about that next week.  Hoping for a sunny weekend.  Enjoy!

Fun with photo transfers.

My mentor, Susan, has really helped me get out of my box and try new techniques.  After attending the SDA conference, I started dwelling on more ways I can use my handwriting in my textile work (which, after all, was one of my original goals when I joined the mentorship program) -- especially ways that are different from all the handstitching I've been focusing on lately.

 
Enter photo transfer paper.  I scanned these quotes, reversed them, inkjet printed onto photo transfer paper, and then ironed them onto some plain white cotton.

 
I just love when all the steps of a project (or most) are interesting in one way or another:  I enjoyed choosing the papers to write the verses on (and will enjoy shopping for more), I liked writing out the verses, printing them gave immediate gratification, and cutting out each verse gave me a pretty, colorful stack to look at while ironing.

Of course, having the transfer paper ironed on to the fabric changes the hand, and so far I am just working on studies using this technique.  I am also thinking about working through Jane Dunnewold's Finding Your Own Visual Language -- has anyone read that?   (And if you're interested, Jane has posted her SDA talk What Matters? here.  This was one of my favorite parts of the SDA conference!)

Exhausted and exhilarated.

Please note, my blog has moved.  Visit me at ginasekelsky.com/blog . 

Highlights from five days immersed in surface design:

 

India Flint exhibit at the Nash Gallery.  When India's book, Eco Colour, came out last fall, I didn't pay much attention.  The book itself looked beautifully designed, but I just didn't have room for one more set of techniques.  I figured I would get to using botanical dyes "someday." Seeing her work, and the work she inspired in my friend Kathie, has made me say, Someday needs to be now.  (Another highlight would be Kathie's phone call on Monday morning, telling me she & India were standing outside my house, would it be okay if they took some of our peony petals for dyeing?)

 
What Matters?  a lecture by Jane Dunnewold.  I really only knew of Jane as a master of surface design techniques (through the books Complex Cloth and Art Cloth).  So I was really blown away by her talk on nurturing a creative life.  Tears in my eyes.  It would also be worth giving up a few hours of sleep to read her blog, Existential Neighborhood.

 
Hanging out with Natalie Chanin.  I have been working hard at narrowing my focus, and finding my own style with hand-stitching.  Seeing the work of my friend Linda Kollofski at the trunk show, and all the amazing pieces in the fashion show (especially my friends Beth & Beverly, whom I mentioned the other day, and featured artist Carter Smith), I was of course second-guessing myself:  wouldn't it be great to create something fluid?  sheer?  ethereal?  Enter a day spent stitching with Natalie, and I'm right back where I was, loving my common materials and eager to create more. 

Some questions to dwell on:

What do I have to say?

What do I want my work to say?

What is unique about my experience?

What is important to me?

Thanks for the memories.

 
I've kept this stamp near my desk for years to remind myself how lucky I am to be my own boss -- it sums up the pleasures and frustrations pretty handily, I'd say.

Yesterday I heard the sad, sad news that one of my favorite shops has closed -- a shop I've done business with since 2005, a shop with some of the sweetest women around.  On one hand I've got the immediate gloom of unpaid invoices.  But on the other bigger hand, there's the end of another relationship.  (When you work alone, a familiar voice is so very welcome.)  And the next thing you know, I was focused on not just this one store, but on all the stores that have closed in the last year, and then I started thinking about change in general, which pretty much sent me to bed with a rather bleak outlook.

I woke up ready to take my own advice:  one step at a time, one foot in front of the other, embrace change instead of resisting it.  I've always got a lot of irons in the fire, and I intend to keep it that way.  Yes, it's work.  Yes, it's exhausting sometimes.  Yes, the big picture can feel overwhelming.  But my answer is still YES.

There's a lettergirl giveaway this week at mommycoddle, new items in the shop later today, and a project or two to share yet this week.  Feel the love!

ACC wrap up.

On Friday I spent two short hours at the American Craft Council show in St. Paul.  It was every bit as inspiring as I'd hoped it would be.  Having only that wee bit of time to spend, I thought I would focus on surface design & wearable art, but I ended up being drawn to the jewelry, tilework, and weaving (cleansing my palate, so to speak).  Some of my favorite artists were:

mary + lou ann

SoMi Tileworks

Killion

kimberly geiser design

Patricia Palson

I am more and more drawn to simplicity -- in line, economy, focus.  My mentor and I were discussing it and we both supposed that may be because I am in such a full place in my life, and that simplicity in art gives me balance.  Also, when you are checking out the sites above, you may want to make a note that my birthday is a mere 4-1/2 months away....

Draping, and then some.

Remember in January, when I shared that I had joined a mentoring program at the Textile Center?  It occurs to me now, I haven't said much more about it.  We've had a couple of large group meetings, I've been meeting one-on-one with my mentor, and the proteges have been teaching each other as well.  At the end of last week, I got to spend two glorious days devoted to draping -- learning to use a dress form to create patterns in three dimensions (as opposed to flat patterning, which is what I've done my whole life). 

 
I had a lot on my plate going into it, didn't really give it much thought other than that draping was something I should learn.  I don't know that I ever thought it consciously, but I guess I assumed it would be a bit tedious.  So I don't say those days were glorious lightly. 

 
I learned how to fit a rectangular piece of muslin onto a dress form to create a bodice.  I learned to take that muslin and make it into a paper pattern.  I learned to drape from scratch, with only fabric and ideas in hand (whether the idea is a picture in your head or one torn from a magazine).  I learned to use a dress form like a three-dimensional design wall.  I learned why sleeve patterns are that particular shape.  I learned the best way to make a pattern from an existing garment.  I learned to pin a piece in-progress onto the form, stand back & make adjustments...or change my mind...or just admire.  I learned that all of it was fun.

 
And more than that, a community was formed, if only for a couple of days, with other like-minded artists.  Years ago, I visited the studio of our instructor, Anna Carlson, during an art crawl in St. Paul.  I've often thought that was the first seed planted in my brain about wearable art.  So it was a pleasure to meet her, and learn about the transitions in her own career.  (After years in fashion design, she's working on an MFA in graphic design.  Isn't that fabulous?  I love stories of reinvention.)

 
Linda, another participant, commented that she has challenged herself to wear something every day that she has made herself -- whether a piece of jewelry, a scarf, or a garment -- as a means of being confident in her own self-expression.  I kept dwelling on that idea all morning until I realized that I have been waiting to achieve a critical mass of handmade garments before I make them a part of my daily life. I was drawn to hand-stitching in the first place because everything about it seemed a perfect match for me -- comfortable, easy to care for, expressive, flattering, sustainable, portable, meditative.  But I've also been stockpiling, building up a wardrobe, waiting for the day when my closet is full of my own handmade things and little else.  Guess what?  I don't really have to wait.  I could start today.

To-doing.

With my son home sick the past few days, I've lacked the time -- and motivation -- to pay attention to my to-do lists.  (Cuddle with warm boy or work on tax prep...hmmm....)  But now that he is back in school, and spring break is a little farther in past, I started thinking a bit about all the to-do lists I manage at one time.

 
There's the family calendar, the work calendar, my monthly plan-everything-at-once calendar, my idea journal (a list of projects I want to try), my project journal (a list of projects I'm in the middle of), the work-brainstorming-notebook (future things to do!), and even a little something I call "my ideal day."  (And let me insert here, that deep down there is a little voice saying, "Are you sure you want to reveal that to the world at large?  Really?) 

One day when I was feeling a little frustrated -- you know the drill: rushing the kids out the door in the morning, wearing the same old-same old, too distracted to notice your own husband's new soul patch, eating two desserts after lunch, it's-almost-five-o'clock-and-I-still-don't-know-what-to-make-for-dinner -- I allowed myself a few minutes to imagine what my ideal day would be.  I mean, the day I was having definitely wasn't the way I wanted to live my one precious life.  I thought through one entire day, lingering on the details:  I'd be wearing clothes I made myself, feeding my family healthy meals, kissing my children good night with intention, enjoying time spent with my husband.  I then scribbled out my ideal day, from first thing in the morning to last thing at night, on one sheet of paper.  I didn't spend time on an elaborate vision board or even use my best handwriting.  And I kept my focus small:  one day.

I wrote on purple paper that's easy to spot.  I tucked it away and I really only read it when I need to renew my focus (like today).  Thinking about my ideal day, committing my ideas to paper, has helped me think about those goals every day, and helped remind me, too, about how fleeting the phases of our life can be.  I don't want to hurry, I want to savor.