From Seat To Vase!

This particular piece of art has bothered me from the moment I first laid eyes on it. A local store, owned and operated by a friend, offers framing, some interesting artisan pieces, and wonderful lines of funky jewelry. This dainty piece of steel and iron has hung in her store since the grand opening. It has haunted me...I've hung it in my home (only in my head) numerous times while cleaning and rearranging. So, yesterday I broke down and purchased it.

It exempifies my essence of repurposing. The vase for the flowers was formerly a seat bottom from an old yard glider. It is totally out of proportion...it had no hanger, so my own engineering skills had to figure out a way to mount it...and it came with a layer of dirt and dust. (I don't really think the artist hosed down the chair bottom when he found it on the dump heap.)

It reeks of raw creativity. Which brings me to the point...never close the mind to what can be seen and made...think beyond the obvious. It was a seat...now it's a vase!

Code or No Code!

Just bought my ump-teenth bag of plastic clothes pins of the 1950's! There is nothing more appealing in color and texture; and the reflection in your brain of seeing someone hanging freshly washed clothes out on a line using these little implements of household helpfulness paints a wholesome picture in my brain. I remember as a child one of my chores was to hang the sheets out on the line....hated it! Little did I know this task would be virtually eliminated in my lifetime. The neighborhood in which I live has a "no clotheslines" in the codes handbook. How bizarre is that? I'm not sure if I had a clothesline I would actually hang my clothes on it, but a fresh Spring day might invite the opportunity. Nevertheless...I will maintain the sanctity of this household chore by preserving its key component...code or no code.

Figure It Out!

Our household experienced a little strife last evening over math. I of course, being the mathematician that I am, was not able to add any useful contribution to the frustration over a series of letters and numbers that made absolutely no sense to me. The only definition of pie for me, is a delightful dessert at the end of a great meal accompanied by a yummy glass of milk or cup of coffee. So, as the only voice of reason available at the time, my roll became the cheerleader. I encouraged her to do her best and she would figure it out. I took her to this photo and reminded her....everyone figures it out!

27 Dresses & 56 Gallons!

Yesterday was filled with golf for Dad and Ma-Da (Mother & Daughter) for us. After little debate the Ma-Da sisterhood went to our favorite deli for lunch and off to see "27 Dresses". We laughed, giggled, followed it up with some shopping and home for homework. Just a terrific day!

The scene with the closet bursting of tulle and taffeta brought back some fond...yet, unnerving memories for myself. Being a card carrying, charter member of the Pack Rat Society; discarding, or donating or getting rid of, or passing on, my only daughter's cute little dresses and clothes was quite difficult for me. I felt this overwhelming need to keep everything. Now, when asked, "why?"...I had no legitimate, logical or semi-intelligent answer. Just the typical response that a card carrying, charter member of the Pack Rat Society might have, "I might need it someday."

My hoarding phobia was not for every little dress...it was for whatever article of clothing she deemed her "favorite". So, this could be overalls, jammies, certain personal items (clue: days of the week), play clothes and certainly special dresses. I wanted to keep it all!!! Now as a one year old the infamous 56 gallon Rubbermaid tub is not too difficult to store...but as children do...she grew, her size grew and my ability to store multiple 56 gallon Rubbermaid tubs shrunk significantly. I felt myself adding on to my home through the PODS system. There was no way this could continue. An intervention was needed.

I remember reading a parenting magazine featuring other parents suffering from this phobia, and I decided to take their advice. "Get Rid Of It".....you will not need it....EVER! Although primitive and certainly not something I hadn't heard before...I reluctantly began to figure out a way to heed their advice. They suggested archiving it with a picture. Great idea, but not a good substitution for someone like myself who enjoys the texture and feel of fabrics and notions. I needed a little piece of the history. So, I initiated an archival meeting with my daughter (she was 5 at the time) and we began to hull down the favorites.

My answer to everything is frame it! I then found a scrapbook template for a dress and cut out one for each article of clothing she LOVED! We saved some buttons...trim...added some written history along the edge of the dress...glued them to a mat board, and archived our clothing history in frames. This became the art for her room for years. Now that she is a teenager...it is my art for years, less the fourteen 56 Gallon Rubbermaid tubs.

The Domino Effect!

Do you ever feel like you are domino number 17 in a series of 89...someone just pushed number 1...and you have a sense of what your future holds? Well, today my fellow blogger Lynn at http://www.lifeatcedarhill.blogspot.com/ was no doubt the pushee of domino number 1. She so nicely chatted about my blog to her entourage' of loyal comrades and the series of kind comments are falling like dominoes! I have had the largest morale boosting day ever experienced in quite a while! This is a gleaming example defining the 'domino effect'. I can't thank Lynn enough for sharing me with her friends. Please check out her blog.

During this process today, I had a big mystery question pop into my noggin'..."why domino..what is the origin?" So, I got my handy dandy book out...Why Do We Say It? and looked it up. Your trivia/Who wants to Be A Millionaire answer for the day is: The monks of a French monastery who invented it gave the game its name. The winner of the game was expected to recite the first line of the vesper service, "Dixit Dominus, Domino Meo." "Domino" is just a shortened form of this line. There you have it...new wrinkle for the day. All this time I just liked the look...the feel...the nostalgia of an old game...and watching the effects of gravity playing its role in knocking them over. Unknowing the origin of such a simple wooden rectangle with dots defines so many different experiences.

So, in honor of the domino, I thank Lynn, her friends, the many other bloggers who have popped in, the monks and the effect of such a game. May you all at some point get to be number 17 in a series of 89!

PAINT OR PEACE?

This may look like a canvas of strewn paint....but, it's really that... and much more. I was going through my "appreciation of Pollack" phase and just wanted to simulate the joy he supposedly experienced while slinging paint on a canvas. The flow of the colors, the textures, the splat of paint from different angles and distance...all was quite interesting to me. So, one afternoon I purchased a huge 3'x4' canvas...laid out an old sheet on the driveway...and began slinging. It was quite invigorating. The lack of concern for how the paint addressed the canvas, the vibrant colors beginning to blend...the giant mess that was developing...it was FUN!


Not to insult Pollack...but, this was like taking a refresher course of Art 101 as experienced in 1st grade. It was about no parameters...not being conservative with the paint...no care for the end result...no premeditated vision...really it was like putting a blindfold on, getting behind the wheel of a car and hoping for the best. There was a huge sense of adventure with no idea of how it would end.


This particular afternoon my daughter was just an observer. She made her side bar comments, but felt totally humiliated at my prancing, and was praying no neighbor or friend would happen by as the canvas ritual was going on. But, as time passed, the watching and the embarrassment became instruction...like, "throw this color on there...toss it over your back...why don't you just throw the canvas and see what happens", to the point, I invited her to participate. With much reluctance, we both were slinging paint like Metropolitan Professionals while giggling and solving all the ills of the earth. We slung so much paint it took 4 days of 98 degree weather for it to dry. Layer upon layer of acrylic paint, with layer upon layer of stories to match. It became our version of the "Divine Secrets of the Ma-Da (mother/daughter) Sisterhood." We had a terrific, creative experience!

All this said...I now look at art a little differently. I have often made snide remarks about the simplicity of something, yet, I don't know what went on in the process of its creation. Buried beneath all that paint could be the answer to solving world peace....who knows?

Toasty Tags!

I love to receive a handmade gift...and if the wrapping of the gift reflects the giver has made a special effort in not looking mass produced...it makes me feel all toasty inside. Sometimes the presentation is just as much the gift, as the gift.

Well, I will often make the gift...but I stink at packaging it. To spend time on the wrapping...the card...the bow....not going to happen. This basically says, "I'm a traitor to the handmade pledge." Generally, I just slam the widget in one of my 28 recycled/re gifted gift bags, add some tissue...and hope I can tell the recipient it is from me, for I refuse to pay $4.95 for a card.

2008 is my year of "Packaging Presentation". What has caused this epiphany is currently unknown, perhaps I'm sick of waiting to do everything at the last minute...maybe I'm cheap...possibly I've collected so much miscellaneous pieces of quirky paper I need to purge...perchance I'm getting nostalgic in my old age...the possibilities are not worthy the contemplation. So, in an effort to be somewhat clever, I've made a stack of funky gift tags for all my packages in 2008.

The key for me is doing it and putting it in the gift drawer for future use. So, this morning, I did it! I made 25 cute, quite simple, yet obviously handmade gift tags for my future gift giving transactions. I simply punched holes in monopoly cards, bingo cards, tickets, old milk caps and several vintage playing cards; attached a cute ribbon....and neatly stacked them in a box in my gift drawer. Simply flip them over, write your greeting and garnish a gift with toasty goodness.