Friday, June 20, 2008

Queen of schtuff

I seriously need to organize my schtuff. I have so much schtuff that I've accumulated it has literally taken over my apartment. Every corner, wall, tabletop even parts of the floor are covered. Granted I live in a small one-bedroom and share the space with my boyfriend and cat, but man! The books alone are overwhelming. However, I fully blame my addiction to schtuff on my mother which she consequently blames on her father. He was a king of junking (or so I'm told--he passed away just months after I was born) and he has a shed to prove it---filled with old bottles, furniture etc that has been sitting there forever.
My mom loves her schtuff too. We would always (and let's face it we still do) go thrifting and to yard sales all the time. We would just buy things that made up happy. We both collect so many things that it's hard to remember what all we have! Most of my "collections" are at her house in boxes because I just don't have anywhere to put it. So I cant enjoy my Pez dispensers, lunch boxes, Happy Meal toys and Disney stuffed toys. Not to mention all the things I had when I was a kid that my mom just couldn't bear to part with. But what am I to do? I love it all so much and I just can't seem to part with it.
I suppose there is no remedy really. I'm doomed to a life of schtuff. My apartment will just have to deal with it. (As will my boyfiend for that matter) So pass the wall of big eyed- 60's girls paintings, hang a right at the mountain of fabric, step over the heap of craft books and patterns, crawl under the Disney stuffies, don't knock over the huge pickle jar full of buttons and you will finally find me probably sewing or reading by my large stack of books that don't fit in the bookcase--surrounded by my lovely stuff.

Friday, June 13, 2008


This was forwarded to me in an email from my aunt. I thought it was outstanding and really quite touching. It talks about the "simpler" times--when most things were done by hand and a little work was put into the things that were done. That is something definately missing from our present time--that sense of where things are made and the sense of accomplishment of making things yourself. There is of course a resurgence of handcrafted items but for the most part, people want what they want quickly. People are out of touch with the physical world I think-not knowing how things are made and out of what material. Not to say I'm very different--I love the dollar store too! But I also have an appreciation of handmade things and get such pleasure of making tings myself. But we are such a technological society now that I fear that soon we will lose touch the physicality of making items ourselves. I suppose time will only tell.

The History of 'APRONS'
I don't think our kids know what an apron is. The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, but along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven. It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears. From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven. When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids. And when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms. Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove. Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron. From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls. In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees. When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds. When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner. It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that 'old-time apron' that served so many purposes. REMEMBER: Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool. Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to thaw. They would go crazy now trying to figure out how many germs was on that apron. I don't think I ever caught anything from an Apron.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

"A Chance"

This painting is the first painting I completed after a long hiatus from my work. I had been traveling around the country, living here and there, and had neglected my art. So when I got goin again, I started small. This piece is only 6x6. When I was painting it though I felt, and this is going to sound cheesy--but I felt happy. Oh how I had forgotten the freedom of it all and the thrill of creating something totally orginal. And it really is "me." This piece also had bit of fabric and some embroidery. It also has a embroidered statement that goes around the outside of the painting saying, "All she wanted was a chance to be present then" sewn on lovely eyelet fabric (which I love) and the fencing is embroidered also. I suppose there's not too much else to say about it. It was shown during the Chapel Hill Public Art show from March to may of 2008.

Friday, June 6, 2008

I'm burning up!

Well---I guess summer's officially here in NC. It has been so friggin' hot the past couple days. Already in the upper 90's with of course like 1000% humidity. I'ts only June!! I've have always had a love/hate relationship with summer. I have fond memories as summer as a child of course--getting a tan, no school, going to the lake or the beach. But as I get older---I loathe hot weather--I burn instead of tan, I don't have summers off anymore and I just hate being hot. So it's not looking good for a nice summer--it will be hot, it will be sticky and I will be miserable.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

some things

It seems like I've been through a lot lately. Busy with, well, life I suppose. Friends visiting, baby shower for a dear friend and then just this past week my grandfather passed away. I still can't really believe it even as I physically type the words. It's a funny thing, death. We all know we're going to die. My grandfather had a chance to actually prepare for death as he was sick for a while and he let his family know that he was ready to go during his last hours. But I wonder, can you really prepare for it? None of us know what really happens after life and that's what makes it so frightening I suppose. Hopefully his passing will bring a stronger sense of family anf togetherness to us all. He will be missed.