This dress. I whipped it up last night on a sewing machine that I hardly deserve. As per the instruction in the pattern, it only took me eleven stitches and a half an hour, but that seemed like a lot of work at the time. And the belt isn’t really working, but it’s a good excuse to shop for a wider one.
I have a hundred reasons to avoid my sewing machine, but as much as I like lists, it would bore you to tears reading a list of whiney excuses. Know that, at the top of the list is: two boys under 5, under my feet, all day long. And right under that? Very little patience.
Studio Friday: Eyes, and Chas’ Birth Quilt
When Chas was somersaulting in utero, around seven months, I began to stew up a birth quilt for him. At the time, Ford had checked out a book from the library that I found terribly inspiring, Ducklings and Pollywogs by Lizzy Rockwell. The guache and watercolor illustrations were flat but the compositions rich in detail, and I’d find myself oggling the pages when I was on the phone, or sipping coffee. It was the theme that most intrigued me: paying reverence to a small pond throughout the year, noticing small changes, seasons. So I chose to use a pond theme for the quilt. One afternoon I tore the colors I loved out of old magazines, and after I had a collection, began to assemble them on a page in my sketchbook. After the arrangement seemed right, I picked up a glitter pen and made droplets fall upon the water, adding rings of vibrations through the pond, as if I was looking into the water during a rain. For more interest, I started drawing black eyes of frogs. I cut them out and pasted them onto the paper (I had made about twelve little compositions). After that, I was in love.
Of course, after selecting fabrics and playing with applique, I chose a composition based less on cryptic eyeballs peeking out of the water and more on the idea of lilypads, or pods, on the water. Something more evocative of how I felt as I sewed: healthy, whole, very pregnant.
I handpainted the watery background, staining the kitchen floor with aqua splatters. Scraps of pond colors littered the hallway floor, beneath the table where I worked. Natural specimens lined the window above my sewing machine: reeds, willow blossoms, seed pods and empty chrysalises. With my machine, I sewed ripples in the water fabric with gossamer thread, sandwiching soft layers and different textures of cotton. I tied the quilt with different shades of green, like the aquatic plants that slide between my toes when I wade.
Chas noticed the circles one day, very young, and smiled, running his finger along the seam of a circle. I was so pleased.
And I like the way it turned out, myself.
Corners
I would love to have a fancy hardwood barn and dollhouse for the kids to play with. But they are expensive! I think I made a smart decision to recycle some boxes from Costco, fashion a good working barn from them and gesso it for the kids. One morning soon, we’ll get around to “decorating” it. Until then, it’s been getting good use as it is.
Since I can’t have my own Hanoverian gelding, I bought a pretty one at Target. It’s a Schleich and I named it Claus. When the boys ask me to play, I tap it across the rug in a meditative half pass left, then right, then I a collected canter around the rug’s perimeter. Chas will pick up a heifer and follow my little program. Ford picks up the Velociraptor and shrieks, thrusting it through the upstairs doorway, attacking the little brown rabbit.
And there you have it: the farm play “corner,” which actually is sitting atop Chas’ birth quilt, atop the chaise in the living room. But we carry it all over, sometimes outside. See more corners here.