When Losing is Winning

(Just a reminder to new blog readers, or if you just forgot: clicking on the colored words (links) will take you to more info, and clicking on the photos will take you to an enlarged image, the better to view details.)

Sometime last winter, while enmeshed in endless preparations for a quilt show, a large and complex embroidery project, and another embroidery challenge,  I dreamed of having the free time to return to a bit of creative clothing construction. Clothing sewing had been my main type of artistic self expression for most of  my life. I had wanted for many years to go to art school and become a clothing or textile designer. Unfortunately the dream of a professional life as such had been thwarted, but in recent years I had returned to a selective set of projects that might be called "art clothing." Generally these involved using articles of clothing as a base for textile surface design explorations, and the body as the gallery for displaying them.

While I loved the idea of being able to show off my "art" wherever I went (I now can do that by whipping out my phone and pulling up my Flikr photo steam), there was the small issue of middle age spread making me an unsuitable longterm gallery for these pieces. I gradually decided it was a better use of time and money to shop for clothing that fit me now and make art that always would. The funny part about that idea is that as I have matured into my "be here now" living style, the longevity of the interest I need to have in my finished pieces of creativity has diminished no matter what the medium. I get the pleasure in the moment of creation, and generally have less interest in long term ownership. Also, the concept of digital storage of images has made it easier to catalogue, revisit and reuse the art when desired.

So when I recently decided it was time to go back to making my mark on interesting portable art, I didn't feel the pieces had to be mine forever. I did decide, however, that I needed to provide them a great looking gallery. I finally bit the bullet, rejoined the new and improved Weight Watchers (mostly improved because the online tools make tracking everything a breeze), and now I'm watching the daily shrinking me show, where I'm weighing, measuring, trying on older, smaller sizes until by the power of will they finally fit, and waiting for the time I deem the mannequin "just right." But while this has become my major summer project in the category of "just do it!", I am beginning work on a fabulous new wardrobe of someone else's inspiration, but my joy.

For once, I decided I didn't have to reinvent the wheel, that I would give myself permission to use patterns and ideas from another designer. That would be Natalie Chanin and her fantastic layered mix and match wardrobe of totally hand sewn, surface designed and embellished pieces made entirely from comfy cotton knits. Bam! The perfect combo of simplicity and excess! Any piece in the basics wardrobe can be made totally and utterly plain, or encrusted to the point of body armor. Your choice. And for your own satisfaction (aside from having a wonderful piece of clothing to complement your lifestyle), when people complement you and say "what a lot of work you did" or "how much do you think that is worth?", you can point them to the retail sales side of her company and say: this little poncho would set you back $1,235, but I made it for a yard of material and the joy of stitching.

Before I move on to my summer of show and tell stitchery, I thought I would share with you the rest of the projects from my five week course, Flower Crazy, with Carla Sonheim. I was so captivated by the techniques she taught us that for once I completed every assignment, including the "extra credit"! 

In addition to an overall inventive, personalized floral theme, the course centered on the creative combination of gesso and watercolor as the media on a variety of substrates. This is watercolor paper with gesso "last".

Here we created a textured painting with gesso "first" then watercolor and Carla's "patented" rub and buff technique.

The idea for these pod flowers came to me in a waking sort of dream. Here the same texture first, then color, but on birch plywood.

These next two pieces are my pride and joy from the class, and involved birch plywood base with wet on wet paint (and many layers more). And yet there was almost no planning involved and the two pieces took under two hours to do.

This piece and the next are the surprising base layers for the two painting to follow. Surprise for me, because I had never worked with collage before as a first layer, especially when the notion is that you will cover most of it up.

This is what the orange, green and blue papers inspired in me after adding layers of gesso, watercolor, charcoal and white acrylic ink.

And the wild black and white polka dots (left over from making journal covers for a previous class) served to give punch to this fun graphic celebration of petal power.

The "final exam" of sorts was to take a children's board book, remove most of the paper from the pages and convert them into a smorgasbord of our favorite flowers and techniques from the class. I used a great deal of collage as the base for these designs, and added water-soluble markers as well as colored pencil and water-soluble ink pencil for punch. There are a total of ten paintings in this book. Check them out here.

One of the "extra credit" assignments was to make more flowers on watercolor paper that could be cut out and arranged as a wall installation.

This collection is above my television on the main living room wall.

These are on the closet doors above my sewing machine. All of them made from scrap paper, cardboard and tape, but the key ingredients are whimsy and color.

In addition to starting the Alabama Chanin designs, I am currently a member of  Jude Hill's class, Contemporary Boro 2, in which we are exploring a variety of philosophies related to clothing ownership, use, repair, and design. It is, as always, as much a community as a class, and populated by a fascinating circle of caring individuals. I showed you the dress below back in the May 7 blog entry. The reason it is here again is to share the label. One of the first projects suggested in Jude's class was to think about the alternate uses of clothing labels and how they can become part of the story of the mended or redesigned (or newly created) pieces we are making. This label is a miniature print of a quilt block from a very special group piece I did with my Designing Women friends a few years back. The image is the first "creative" portrait I ever drew of myself, and the sentiment, "I Am One of a Kind", speaks of both the dress and me.

Here is another label I made using an old stamp that was that has been the symbol for years of my sometime craft business, "Hippo Productions". This garment has been "Infused With Hippo Love," the label printed on tea dyed muslin.

A very simple but fun style from the "Alabama Stitch Book" that makes use of recycled logo t-shirts. The brown one was a prize from an Oregon hops grower for photos submitted of hops plants growing in my garden. And no, I don't brew my own beer. Not yet, anyway. I'm too busy trying to decide which  stitchery project is calling me the loudest this week. Can't wait to show you what's on the worktable now. But hopefully, hanging from my "new" body.

Refueling A Hybrid

I was reading an article in last week's paper about introverts and extroverts. Seems that research shows an extrovert is charged up by hoopla: hustle and bustle, sights and sounds, new things, challenges. The introvert finds all this draining, and prefers quiet and control to find strength and focus in her life. The author wrote that research shows if we allow people to find their own approaches to fitting in to the world, either personality type can find success and satisfaction. When I was a child, I was quiet around all but best friends. But because I spent a lot of time preferring the company of adults, and studied their more orderly world, I learned several things about myself that I have carried over time to have success in life: you don't have to be Queen of the prom to be Queen of your own life; it's okay, maybe preferential to be different from the gang; persistence pays off; being confident means not being afraid to be alone. I have also come to realize that while people may be generally "intro" or "extro" in their approach to life, I am a fine example of the Hybrid.


Most days and weeks of my life center around a quiet, if busy, home life that allows time each day for artistic pursuits, exercise, reading, and contemplation. And most days this solitude fills me with great satisfaction and the ability to concentrate on the creative life. The part of me that thrives on this is the introvert; the girl who always (and now) hated noise and confusion and needs to be alone to do her best work. But every so often that girl becomes drained of energy and needs a refuel, and when that happens the best way to charge all the batteries is to plug in to the energy of the city: to let loose the extrovert side, see and be seen, revel in big, bigger and biggest.


My guy had not taken a vacation day off in over five months, and with plenty to spare we decided to make the occasion of a concert the excuse to enjoy spring in a more invigorating environment. As regular readers know, my city of choice is the one lying a mere one hour to North and West, embodying all the art, culture and views  a person could require to inspire a creative burst. This is some of what 26 hours in Chicago bought us. (And by the way, this interlude was just days before the NATO summit, as the city made plans to disrupt the lives of normal folks in favor of showing off the riches to the world. What we experienced on two perfect weather days was an extremely quiet and low key downtown with light traffic and little hassle anywhere.)

Wine flights are the thing at Bin 36, part of the Hotel Sax building, adjacent to the famous House of Blues and Marina City.

L'Chaim! I love an empty restaurant at lunch, knowing this place can be totally booked at other times.

Walking Michigan Avenue on the way to Crate and Barrel, I snapped pictures of floral inspiration for my "Flower Crazy" class.

The concert hall (Chicago Theatre) was literally around the corner from our hotel. It's hard to believe I've been a fan of Steve Winwood since junior high and the man is still making such fine music. The audience on the other hand...don't get me started on spectator manners these days.

As always, an amazing view from our hotel. The "corncobs" of Marina City from the other side of the river this time.

Lying in the window seat trying to capture the lightening lighting up the sky around the Trump Tower. No luck.

First thing next morning, a reminder of my kitty, who is home alone. If he could call us he would. Instead we look in on him with a "nanny-cam".

Instead we request a goldfish to keep us company. As far as I am concerned they are all named Fiona after our first one in Portland. (The Monaco there gives them introductory name tags.)

The rooms are very elegant and make you wish you had more more to just laze in bed, but we must be off to get that recharge!

On the way to Blick's, some colorful sights include spider men...

A "green" service...

A remnant of another era in the clocks at the corners of the  former Marshall Field's store.

As Art Institute members we were able to attend preview days (and pre-crowd days) of an amazing exhibit of the life and works of Roy Lichtenstein. The only thing negative to say about it: we were both a bit headache-y after looking at all those dots for over an hour. Lunch in the courtyard restaurant gave us time to recover our perspective.

Since, unfortunately I wasn't able to take any photos of the exhibit to show you, I can only share the similarly dotted table on which I ate a most excellent lunch of huge shrimp on cheese grits. Yes, that is a biscuit, and no, not an optical illusion. Just the tiniest biscuit in history. Good, because I'm watching my calories. 

We decided to leave the building by way of the bridge from the modern wing to Millennium park, with some of the most wonderful views on the lakefront.

Look quick! You can just see the bus turning the corner covered with an ad for the Lichtenstein exhibit.

If you've never been to Chicago, you might think we were somewhere coastal. But no, that is Lake Michigan.

With the Modern Wing of the Art Institute behind me, I am enjoying a rest in the amazing prairie-like Lurie Gardens.

Under the "dome" of the Millennium Park band shell (designed by Frank Gehry), another view of my wonderful guy wearing my art.

And so ended a short but tasty tour of some of our favorite spots along the refueling trail. Enough to satisfy for a little while at least. But with all the painting and stitching I've been doing lately, I'm bound to run low soon. At least I know where they keep the juice.