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.

Transitioning

It's the time of year. It's the time of my life. I am on the move. There is a restlessness and yet always a flow. Weather flows, seasons flow, talents and interest flow. After a long and productive winter that saw a determined and contented purposefulness of awesome intensity, I am ready for a break. And yet never from new learning and experience. Already there a stack of projects that belong to spring and will be completed enough to show you next time. But something about this winter was like a final exam, or better yet, an entrance exam. And I have passed with flying colors. Two years ago I decided to attend the art school of life, and now it has become a reality. I am on that path for the long haul, and yet there is nothing about it that feels burdensome. I feel a true transition from "wanna be" to "am".

Every season has its red thing: a bike, a blower, a gas can, a snow shovel.

The artist I used to want to be was concerned with a career and success, but the artist I am becoming just wants to make art. So in the most essential way, I have made my blog title come true: I am at home and it is the place I want most to be.

A decorative sun waits to return to the garden.
 Ice skates: never used, canoe cushions: maybe soon.

On a beautiful but still cool early spring afternoon in March, I sat in my garage watching the return of life outside the open door, and looking about at the storage-dusty, debris littered stuff of an outdoor life, and felt a great affection for the color and line of the things we collect that connect us to the seasons. I pulled out the always present camera and began to record details of color and texture, juxtaposition of summer and winter, and thought about how much I was looking forward to my garden, to outdoor exercise, to bringing my indoor art to my outdoor world again.

The late-day-sunny, west facing front deck waits coffee breaks, wine hour, after dinner tea. A place to watch life go by, day turn to night.

Light and shadow, texture and mood. Suddenly I felt hungry to capture it all. There is nothing like seeing the world around you in cropped bits and pieces, snippets of moments, to really open your eyes to the exquisitely intense inspiration of even the most "mundane" bits. Whether it is catching the fleeting colors of the most beautiful of sunsets, or a puddled crack in the garage floor, there is a fascination at every turn. The Advanced Photo Silly class came at just this transitioning moment, and gave me the gift of really seeing my world for two intense weeks.

My best self portrait from Photo Silly class had to tell some of my story.
(I learned to use a tripod, the camera timer, and not blink.)

Learning to make an interesting image through intentional defocus.
My pilates instructor, captured during class, appears to be from another planet.

Another soft image captures the golden sunset and the "First Mow" of spring.

Learning about white balance and the ability of the photographer to intentionally choose an "off" color. "Six Flavors of Cherry"

This assignment involved taking quick snapshots and them restaging them to get a better photo.

"A Touch of Red" taught me how to shoot a protrait of an object floating in space.

"A Red Focus" was my Starbucks Saturday doodle paying tribute to a new red Focus.

At the same time I was completing all the final preparations for another exam of sorts, the wrap up of all my textile arts into one intense weekend of sharing at the String Along Quilt Guild Of Northwest Indiana biennial quilt show. Here I got to share my most recent quilts, sell my one of a kind experiments in attire and other handcrafted gift and jewelry items, be with friends, and best of all this year, have a little corner all to myself to corral visitors to a demo of the many inspirations and colors of my new textile art world.

My jacket, "Spring Weaving", was a big hit and inspired many of those who stopped to visit my demo table to think about trying new techniques with their quilt art.

My section of the guild boutique featured paper art boxes, homemade potpourri sachets, felted hot drink cup sleeves, polymer clay pens, and beaded jewelry.

Always a favorite vendor, Renee Tripp is a local breeder of Suri Alpacas, and brings her beautiful yarns and dyed roving to sell. I bought three skeins of gorgeous lace weight natural black yarn from her boy "Sam Houston." I see some fancy scarf knitting in my future.

Three years in the making, this beautiful group quilt by my pal Dotti Sparks, and the Designing Women, entitled "Where in the World Have the Designing Women Been?" My block in the center bottom features, where else, trips to Oregon.

Another very successful D.W. project was this display of portrait quilts of our respective family members. Mine, on the left, "Too Cool: 4 Daves," was featured on the embroidery blog, "Mr. X Stitch."

Here I am with two of my quilts, a needle felted hippo portrait called "Hitchin" A Ride," and the Judge's Choice Winner of the show (!!!) "Better With Age."

Taking a moment to enjoy all our successes, friends in creativity.

Within days of the show closing, my project-trashed house still somewhat out of order, I was moving on: The Bhavana project flags had arrived, three yards of Alabama Chanin organic cotton jersey waiting, tied with a jersey bow in a stenciled box, the shrine book, completed and waiting only for the polymer clay end caps to be fashioned, and the first lesson of Carla Sonheim's fantasy flower painting class about to begin.


The season outside had changed while I was too busy to really pay attention, but now I am ready to get in step with both the garden and the art. New skills, new colors and textures, new adventures: here I come.

Just Shoot Me!

(LMAO Disclaimer: I wrote the blog post title this morning before finding out that today's photo class assignment is a self portrait. I swear I didn't know! )

It's funny how the drama of sunrise is so etherial. Five minutes and gone. A reminder to do something wonderful today.

Summer has turned my brain to mush. I want to be free of my obligations (as much as I love them all) and just work in the (literally) blooming garden. "But wait," you say, "it's just now Spring!" Well tell that to this crazy record breaking climate. The birds are going totally nuts around here vying for territory and mates and building nests like their eggs are ready to drop at any second. The poor kitty who lives here has had several breakdowns over the commotion. The first day the wild noise began outside he ran about from window to door, howling all day.  I was ready to call the vet for a tranquilizer (for one or both of us). By day three, he'd setting to just excited watchfulness, and my nerves could settle too. But this last Saturday, when the whole world exploded into summer weather, the "air traffic" was out of control with dive bombing cardinals at the front door and my poor baby moaning and backing up the stairs like it was a Hitchcock movie and he was the blond heroine under attack.

A woodpile, underexposed, speaks of decay
 and the lost promise of time wasted.

Just one week ago, there was just barely a hint of spring in this overexposed shot of my back yard. Today the green is bursting out.

Because I was already enrolled in or completing projects for at least four online activities, plus a wagon load of things to prep for for my quilt guild show in two weeks, I decided it was necessary to enroll in yet another class. Photography is becoming an essential tool in my art arsenal of mediums, and for both practical and pleasurable purposes I am determined to learn some skills with my camera. I am again taking a two week intensive session with Steve Sonheim, Photo Silly Advanced. We are at the halfway point, and I can say I am once again making discoveries of what can be done that I would never have thought to try without a good "silly" lesson.

A naturally backlit still life in the sewing room.

Late afternoon sun and a kitty chasing shadows and reflections.

Husband on a mission and captured in the light of sunset.

One thing I learned last week is that a husband who works an 80 hour week must be caught on "film" to prove he really exists. But like Peter Pan, he was more elusive than his shadow. Our only date of the week was a quick trip to Home Depot for wooden dowels, and plywood for an upcoming drawing class (more about that another day, except meanwhile you may want to check out Carla Sonheim's new class offering in April.) The best discovery was how much I like black and white photography, and that, yes, a digital camera can be set to shoot in b&w rather than removing the color in editing. Who knew? Steve's assignments usually include doing something scary, like photographing strangers. I got to do a portrait series with a workout friend I barely knew previously, and found the experience to be tough, but exhilarating and liberating for both of us.

A portrait is a moment captured that reminds you who you were just then.

Hippos gather for "Bedtime Stories."

Charm and imagination lost in the color and light.

The scene of the crime showing alternate light sources I tried: holiday lights, candles, cell phone and the small flashlight in the middle that was used.

I've been doing quite a bit of stitching lately, some creative, some routine, but all quite satisfying. No matter what, needle and thread will always be my natural choice of writing medium. Probably because it has been with me since childhood, and has become so natural a part of my everyday life. Drawing will take a lot more time, but my ease with it grows every week. The shrine book from Arlee Barr's class is in its final stages of construction (mostly waiting for the Man to cut the dowels). The TAST challenge continues weekly with worldwide inspiration and friendship from fellow stitchers. And that quilt show. It's a rather big affair for a small local guild, and I find it's the perfect way to force myself to complete whatever is on the back burner from the previous couple (or more) years.

Horizontal sashing complete, vertical choices await cutting.

My biggest challenge has been turning a mixed media piece (my first ever) from a class last year into something more polished and connected to my recent artistic mission. I have begun to let my creativity flow in all directions as it will, and be more accepting of what emerges. Having spent quite a bit of time writing this blog the last year and a half, that direction is starting to be more verbal. The theme of the unfinished quilt, "The Time Machine," was based only on the visual impression of the paths and pendulum-like arm that appeared in my freely drawn quilting design. For over a year  I have stared at it and tried to find a way to complete the thought. One night last week as I was waiting for sleep, a small simple poem came to me and I knew it was the answer:

If you will only listen carefully

the universe will show you the way...

Follow the Time Machine

back down the path to lost hopes and dreams.

Rediscover Yourself.

Adding the embroidered borders.

It is the truth of my life and it summed up my recent artistic journey as a time travel to reclaim something I left behind. Additionally, with the usual synchronicity of such moments, a perfect piece of fabric had been plucked that week from the stash of a dear friend who purchased it with good intention, but died last year without giving it purpose. Her contribution now rings the quilt with a freely lettered and stitched piece of the poem. If you will only listen carefully...

Is It Retirement Yet?

Unfortunately not; but some days I am so ready. So is my husband, of course, but for different reasons. Like being tired of working sixty hour weeks at a crazy, difficult, dirty industrial job for the last forty years (that after making it home intact from a crazy, difficult, dirty jungle-fought war.) No, I can't compare my pain to his, since I actually retired from my last full-time job (teaching middle school home economics) twenty years ago this June. I have been a privileged "kept" woman since.

Dave tries out the concept of retirement: Nope, not quite ready.

The retirement I want is where we get to move on to a new adventure, together and individually, to have new surroundings and experiences, and think about life in new ways. Our destination, on hold for a while yet, is the gorgeous Pacific Northwest, with the city of Portland as our likely base of operation. We have been there: we are smitten. You can't talk us out of it (at least, I hope not.) But we'll have to settle at the moment for a late summer vacation there and continue to plot and plan.

Enjoying the beautiful campus of Furman University in Greenville, SC

These ducks were excellent "posers," but alas, I had come with
 companions and there was no time to draw.

Meanwhile some very close friends who have shared our life in both Maryland and Indiana did indeed find a way to retire early and skipped out on the "Lake Effect Snow Belt" we call Michigan City to move to the year round warm climate of South Carolina. For me, a tad too Southerly. I'm a Northerner, a coastie, and a cool weather kind of girl, but after the winter (and spring we've had so far) it was wonderful to thaw out with a week of Southern climate and hospitality.


We set out on our road trip in the midst of all those torrential rains of Easter weekend, nervously crossing the Ohio River to see Louisville somewhat submerged around the edges already. We were hydroplaning on bridge surfaces, and large trucks were menacing (passed one that had made it into the median just short of the other side of the highway.) The news had daily reports of evil winds playing havoc with threats of more to come. I kept wondering why it had to be so crazy just when we most needed some uneventful and laid back time. For a week we traveled on the edge of disasters, but were blessed to personally skirt it all.

I had decided to start a journal specifically for trying out and saving patterns and textures. I found these individual doodle blocks to be the perfect size before-bed project for a hotel room. Something I may carry on at home.

Although Lexington, Kentucky is the midpoint of our mileage and a stopover, this time we had to pass on the horsey delights of the wonderful Kentucky Horse Park, and the pre-Derby races at gorgeous Keeneland. If you have experienced neither and love horses, put them on your travel wish list. On our last trip through I got to meet (among others) the horse that played the role of "Seabiscuit" in the movie with Tobey Maguire, and when the crazy cocktail-party-in-heels at Keeneland was standing room only, I got to stand at the railing next to the winner's circle.

I finally started my practice of journaling on this trip. Yeah! I used the little accordion fold ones I showed you last time. This one is for all "coffeehouse" related subjects.

First time drawing flowers in their natural setting. I was also standing most of the time, and trying to create a pleasing composition on the spot. Unfortunately I had to do the painting a couple days later from photos. You can only keep friends waiting so long, and the hot weather was defeating my enthusiasm as well. This one will be all about gardens.

Our brief stay in Greenville was a foray into summer (before knowing spring), and as lovely and fun as was the experience, it was also a reminder of why I don't want to retire South: I hate humidity! I don't do sultry well (at least not in that sense!) I also require a bigger town with more variety of scene within and without. A little edgier. A small scale big city set between a mountain and an ocean, well you get my drift.

Posing outside our friends' house. It was too warm in SC, and we only had a couple opportunities for wearing them later in the week. To this date, no comments from strangers!

But I totally understand our friends' love affair with their new home. Number one is their proximity to Furman University, and its welcoming attitude to townies, and especially seniors. They get to call campus home to attend the arts, walk the gardens, but further, to study, tuition free with the same respect and involvement as the paying clientele. Oh, the joys of a well endowed university. My friend is planning a two year course in photography for only the cost of materials and lab fees. I am quite awed at this opportunity.

Back home I couldn't wait to get back to my needle and cloth. I can tell I'm going to be a fool for embroidery. This is a detail of the heart sampler I'm working on.

I am hoping and dreaming that such situations will arise for us when we finally make it to the next phase. Meanwhile too much busy reality intrudes from the here and now. Yes, formal art study would be grand, but this home schooling business isn't such a bad thing. Gives me a chance to build my "portfolio," find my preferred medium. Every day is a gift and life is the best school. So what should I work on next? Time to get back to Carla's "Silly" lessons. No time to talk about Asheville today. We'll save that for our next chat. Later, fellow travelers!