Lettergirl

Homecoming.

The picture I didn't get this weekend, but which I will always hold dear in my noggin, is the sight of my family on the platform, holding hands, as my train pulled into the Franklin Avenue station.

Juliet, glowing, more beautiful than ever.

Peter, tall and strong.

Forest, with that enormous smile that makes me smile right back.

Yesterday I had an email from Martha, who was also a winner in the BurdaStyle contest (that gorgeous beret!) and participant in this weekend's workshop, and she mentioned that she could tell I was homesick.  I hadn't really thought of it as homesick, but that's exactly what it was.  While I was having an amazing experience at the Alabama Chanin Weekend Workshop, I simply wanted to share it firsthand with those I love the most.  Now I know dwelling on it is a little crazy.  Maybe it's that I already get my alone-time all day, every day.  Maybe I'm realizing that Juliet could be leaving for college in only six more years. 

Put one foot in front of the other is the way to go.  Or, as Gretchen Rubin would say, act the way you want to feel.  I had the amazing good fortune to have dinner on Friday night with two other women from the workshop, and for whatever reason (anonymity? comfort? soul-searching?) we put it all out on the table:  this is who I am, this is my journey.  I took in as much from that conversation as I did from the entire rest of the weekend. 

Here's me, always struggling with the legitimacy of what I do for a living, always wishing I could skip the journey and reach the destination already (and stay there).  Anne reminded me that art is a form of nourishment.  Terry reminded me that my work can be a way to reinforce community.  (Oh, and it wasn't all about me.  Really.)  In a word, the weekend was significant.

I also knew going in that reflection would be essential for me to get the most out of the trip.  Remember the idea of the daily uniform?  I'm still thinking about a clothing system, and even moreso after this inspiration-soaked weekend.  I'm swamped with work, but itching to find a minute to start a little idea journal, my own personal One Hundred.  I've always wished I was one of those people who had the right thing in their closet for any given moment (although I'm hoping I don't actually need 100 different elements in my clothing system, that seems so American).  First two items on the list, from the photo above, Levi 545 jeans and my silver cuff, a hand-me-down from my mom's aunt.

Remember last week, all those thoughtful comments?  Keep them coming.  I'd really love to know:  what items would make your list? 

My Alabama adventure.

How to distill a weekend I looked forward to so much into simple words that will capture all it meant to me?  Today:  the nuts and bolts; tomorrow:  why it ended up being mostly about coming home.

I was (gently) admonished for taking photos ... or rather, encouraged to be in the moment rather than documenting it.  But my nature is to take it all in, and reflect on it later.  So I kept clicking away.

I arrived in Alabama on Friday evening, after flying to Memphis and driving across northern Mississippi.  The topography is not so different from home and I could almost convince myself that I was not hundreds of miles from every single person I know.  (Oh, did I mention I don't like traveling alone?)  An hour or two was spent on Friday looking through pattern books and choosing projects to work on over the weekend.  I had already determined that I would keep an open mind about my project, that I'd keep it simple, even though my heart of hearts was longing for one of these coats (with less embellishment, of course):

 

I settled on a creamy white top with a wrap-front in the Bird of Paradise stencil pattern.  It was a real treat to have the pieces cut and stencilled by Natalie's amazing staff, Diane and Steven.

 

 
I woke up to a bright, sunny room on Saturday and picked up my book to read a bit before breakfast.  I read for quite awhile before looking at the clock to see:  5:49 am.   I wanted to take in every bit of inspiration I could this weekend, but my lack of sleep sure put a fuzzy film over it all.  (Again, that's what the photos are for: a clear vision.)  The whole day was spent stitching and sharing stories, which was heaven to me.

 

I'm still processing all the details.  (Note the handmade cuff on the coffee glass.)

You know, so many times I've worn something I've made and someone comments, "You could sell that."  I like making clothes for the creative process of making them, the pleasure of wearing them (or giving them).  I would love to work more sewing into the renaissance-world of Dreamland, but I've never felt that designing a collection and marketing it was the way for me to do that.  Hearing Natalie talk about the struggles of starting and maintaining her business reinforced that notion in me.  I don't want to travel all over (alone) to support my work, I don't want the fuss of the Department of Labor scrutinizing my every move.  I am hard-working, always have been -- but I know what my limits are.

 
 
I went into the weekend looking forward to meeting my hero, being inspired by her work, and spending time in a new place (as I referred to it to my kids, my first trip to Alabama Chanin).  I was able to reflect a bit on Sunday evening about all the projects I want to get going on -- a sampler like this would make a wonderful throw for the living room.  I am full to the brim with ideas.

I didn't expect to be so inspired by the physical space of Alabama Chanin.  Because "the factory" actually is an old factory, they have lots of room to spread out.  I've been squishing myself into my basement studio since we moved to this house, and dreaming of moving up to the (smaller) extra room on the second floor just to get more daylight.  The factory was so functional and charming.

Monday was a drive on the Natchez Trace Parkway, wearing my new bandana.

(My eyes look soooooo tired.)

What did I miss?  Please, please comment with any questions.  Tomorrow, the rest of my trip:  fast friends, real stories, coming home.

Wish you were here.

Remember a few months ago when I asked who might be interested in a snail mail exchange?  I must have been thinking about it before I fell asleep last night -- that, and Melissa's recent vacation -- because I dreamt up a plan for us (literally).

 
When is the last time you got a postcard in the mail?  I would love to open my mailbox and find a postcard from some faraway friend.  Everyone who participates in the exchange will mail a postcard and receive a postcard -- preferably a good, old fashioned picture postcard from the place where you live.

To participate, leave a comment on this post anytime through Monday, May 10th.  That week I'll gather all your addresses and send directions for the exchange.  I hope you're in!

Either/or.

Just a few more random bits about me:

Next week I'll be sharing the answers of the five giveaway winners.  In the meantime, I invite you to post your own either/or interview on your own blog:

And thank you, Michelle, for the Beautiful Blogger Award!  Read Michelle's blog here, and I dare your mouth not to water when you see that goo cake (yes, goo).  I'm also going to make her pizza sauce, since you may all remember that I make pizza every Friday night.

Alabama love.

 

 

EDITED:  Please note this blog has moved.  Find more creative inspiration at www.ginasekelsky.com/blog.

 

I think of this as my "winter olympics" skirt...although I started it in January, I was able to stitch up quite a bit of the reverse applique while watching the competition (er, listening to the competition).  As luck (or fate?) would have it, I stumbled on an online contest for Alabama Chanin - inspired projects on burdastyle.  Grand prize is a trip to Natalie Chanin's "factory" in Alabama for a weekend workshop.  SWOON.  Pretty please take a peek!  Also check out the awesome handbag, the beret, and the golden yellow dress.  Win or lose, I'm inspired.  Note the contest only runs through Tuesday, March 2nd.

 I started by freehand painting the quote:

Then I stitched around the letters by hand.

I ran out of black buttonhole thread about 2/3 of the way through, but adhered to my cliched motto of "necessity is the mother of invention" by switching to the dark grey thread I had on hand.  Turns out I loved the look, but the thread itself was a nightmare.  So I eventually switched back to black.  And I love that too.

 
Before constructing the skirt (also by hand), I trimmed out the center of each letter, revealing the black jersey underneath.  I get an inordinate amount of pleasure from the slow, thoughtful steps in the process.

March will be a month of quotations...possibly starting with the one on my skirt. 

EDIT:  After I won the contest, I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Natalie Chanin, and you can read the interview here.

15 minutes (+ a giveaway).

Introducing my 15 minute project.  I know someone, somewhere has already thought of this.  But over the weekend, I thought of it too, and it motivated me.  (In moments of inspiration, it helps to repeat after Auguste Rodin:  I invent nothing; I rediscover.)

I have a to-do list of little things a mile long.  I want to exercise just a bit more.  I have a few things I've been meaning to do, but just never get at (like taking an inventory of the freezer).  Sound familiar?

I've always been a new year's resolution sort of girl.  Some things I give up right away.  A few things I forget all about.  But when I keep it simple & focus on a specific goal, I generally work doggedly toward it until it becomes a habit.  This year I have one new year's resolution:  to spend 15  minutes every morning in a useful pursuit.

I wrote all of my little to-dos on scraps of paper (okay, okay, color-coordinated scraps of paper) and stuck them in a jar.   I included chores I haven't gotten around to, ways to move my body, stuff that just needs to get done, and some miscellaneous 15-minute delights:

climb the stairs

mending

sort a drawer

write a letter

clean the kitchen sink

blogsurf

organize the baking cupboard

dance

I have about 30 slips in all, plus a few extra blanks nearby for late-coming revelations.  (This morning I added pedicure.)  Most slips I will put back in the jar to be drawn again; a few can be torn up after their 15 minutes of fame.

To keep me on track, I plan to blog a bit this month about my 15-minute experiment.  (And for the record, I am only obligating myself to work days.) 

Want a jar of your very own?  I'll write out up to 30 slips for a giveaway this month.  Just leave a comment on this post with your own idea for one slip -- help me think of something that I might have overlooked or purge your conscience of a task you haven't gotten around to yet.  I'll draw a winner on Tuesday, January 19th. 
 

Home sweet home.

A few weeks ago in the comments, Michelle suggested I share a little bit about my working environment.  Great idea...until I looked around at the disaster that is my studio these days.  It all began with a serious need to purge, a realization that I am feeling encumbered by so much stuff.  And it's more than a bit like a game of dominoes:  I've been wanting to move my studio to the light-filled spare bedroom upstairs, but in order to do that, I need to get rid of the extra stuff down here and up there.  Which means making room in the attic.  Which means organizing what's in the attic already.  Which means a garage sale in my future.  You get the idea.

I can't seem to begin any project without providing a little inspiration to see me through.  I do so love the big picture. 

This is simply an old bulletin board on which I posted inspiring magazine clippings I've saved through the years (so much more useful here than in the folder where they were).  I added a few key ideas to focus on, and over the whole thing wrote the William Morris quote that is my guiding principle:

Do not have anything in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

Red + robin's egg.

 

Tomorrow:  first in another series of five, my favorite finds on etsy and papernstitch.

Sunflower + Charcoal.

Blue + Green.

 

Never seem to tire of blues and greens together.