annwood – Page 27 – ann wood handmade

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a creepy retrospective

October 31, 2017

by annwood

the haunted house and other spooky poems

When I was small there was a record I loved. A collection of creepy poems read aloud in creepy voices. I have thought of it often but never expected to hear it again. I did this April. I guess just about everything is on the internet now. I have intense memories of these poems and the sensation of hearing them again is hard to describe. They terrified me as a child and I could not get enough. Now when I hear them I see the old record player, the worn carpet and the dusty, dappled light in the front room of the shady little house. It stirs up all my ghosts.

If you’d like to hear it’s all there, on youtube. My favorites are The Erlking and Dust. I still love the recording and I wish more of the world could be delivered to me in rhythmically crackling record with old-timey voice format.

Happy Halloween and in honor of the spooky day a creepy retrospective.

“A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings’ – T.S.Eliot

owls on my worktable and the socks family farm

October 27, 2017

by annwood

I like the creatures I make to have an attitude, an expression and body language that imply a history – a point of view, a world of their own.

Mr. Socks for instance is a mischievous cat. A wanderer, a vagabond and sometimes a bit of a rascal. He goes where he likes and does what he likes. He has a good nature but is not entirely reliable. There is one thing about him that you can count on though, for his whole cat life every autumn he heads North where he works on the Socks family Christmas tree farm in Woebegone Pines. The whole Socks family lives in a big black house at the end of a crooked road where they cultivate very special varieties of forlorn firs and pines.

I’m headed back home to Brooklyn tomorrow. Exile has been interesting. This forced change of pace and place. And it has had its benefits. I’ve spent more time outside than I would have, slept in good cold air and have been slightly over fed. And I have been reasonably productive.

The lamb (made from this sewing pattern) is part of a group of creatures for Fortuny.

And there is a little houndstooth fellow too.

My head is already in next week. I’m finalizing plans for 2 more workshops in 2018 (more on that soon). And I’ll have a surprise for you, a new free project. Last year it was the woebegone trees with mr. socks above, the year before very nice mice and this years project fits into that tiny world as well…

october is for sewing

October 20, 2017

by annwood

This year it’s for sewing by the pool. I love a forlorn pool, all its summer sparkle and glory gone. It’s a contrast and a particular flavor of melancholy that I have always been attracted to.

I’ve temporarily relocated myself outside of NYC while my entire ceiling is replaced. It is a spectacular October and it’s good to be sewing again after a truly miserable week.

I brought a sewing machine, tons of fabric and projects to work on. Besides the pool I have a big sunny room to work in and a diligent helper. He loves the sewing machine. And thread, he really loves thread.

The first thing finished was another soldier – more a Wickham than a Darcy this time. He is handsome and beguiling, all poetry and romance, but don’t believe him when he says his heart is yours……..

I’m hoping to have the soldier sewing pattern perfected, drafted and converted to an illustrator file in a couple days. I’ll shoot the steps as soon as I get home. I’m also working on a collection of Fortuny animals (they will be in the NY showroom for the holidays) and lots of little things, small sewing I never get tired of.

Thank you for your thoughts and concerns since the big dusty crash. I’m still all turned around and unsure of what to do next but things are generally well enough and I am finding a rhythm.

onward,
ann

the sky has fallen and emaline in the park

October 12, 2017

by annwood

I’m writing to you today from the wreckage of my dear old place. The plaster ceiling collapsed on Monday. I’m crammed into the “safe section” with all my belongings and lots of dust. All my plans for October are canceled and I’m scrambling to get things together to leave for the rest of the month at least.

The event itself was shocking and my brain has not really worked right since. All the rubble is still here ( which is interesting…..) and I sift through sometimes looking for tiny things that might have survived.

I hate to wish time away. Especially October. It’s such a good month. But the next few weeks feel impossible. I will keep you posted as the situation and my whereabouts unfold.

When the catastrophe happened I was having a perfect rainy October day, hand sewing a rag doll, sitting right underneath. I’ve got good reflexes. She and I just ended up dusty and surprised.

Her perfect October continues, spending blustery days in the park among the fading flowers and leaves, reading about star crossed lovers and thinking her wistful thoughts.

curious specimens

September 29, 2017

by annwood

Constraints are interesting. So are intersections. We employed both elements in our warm up exercise at the mini makerie in Boulder last week. Each student received a mysterious box of supplies, a chunk of time and one instruction: a source for inspiration that shall remain a secret because it worked beautifully and I’ll probably do it again.

The compositions they created far surpassed my expectations and got wheels turning in all sorts of interesting ways for the entire workshop.

Immediately after the warm up we began creating our collection of imagined specimens: curious plants and creatures that exist at the edge of dream and reality. The workshop took place at At Hand Studio in Boulder, artist Fran Menely’s spectacular work space. As we began to think about inventing our specimens we explored her gardens for inspiration.

I loved spending 3 big days with 11 like minded individuals. Women who showed up willing to try stuff, experiment and collaborate. We spent most of the final afternoon photographing our work. We used found objects, specimen pins, old book covers (I grab them whenever I see them – such unexpected colors) and scavenged text to create mood and atmosphere that suggests the sort of dream world our strange specimens might inhabit, their imagined history.

We used found objects, specimen pins, old book covers (I grab them whenever I see them – such unexpected colors) and scavenged text to create mood and atmosphere that suggests the sort of dream world our strange specimens might inhabit, their imagined history.

Get the mushroom sewing pattern

dioramas in the forest and a third kind of image

September 29, 2017

by annwood

I think about thinking a lot. I think about imagination a lot. The mystery of it. Creativity, art, inspiration, expression, all of that. I think about how it feels to get something past the filters. To get something that was inside on the outside in a way that feels complete and true. Seeable. With all it’s you-ness in tact.

That kind of expression is what’s on my mind when I’m preparing for workshops. The last two especially, Squam and the mini makerie. Both workshops had a strong focus on exploring and trusting your imagination and starting without knowing exactly where you are headed. Experimenting and responding.

I experiment on myself all the time, watch myself work, observe my own thinking and patterns, where I get stuck, how I unstick myself and I bring that experience with me. I also read a lot this spring and summer about art, imagination and creativity and that something else that doesn’t have a name. I came across the quote below in a collection of observations on Joseph Cornell’s boxes by Charles Simic. I love the idea of a third kind of image:

“There are really three kinds of images. First, there are those seen with eyes open in the manner of realists in both art and literature. Then there are images we see with eyes closed. Romantic poets, surrealists, expressionists, and everyday dreamers know them. The images [Joseph] Cornell has in his boxes are, however, of the third kind. They partake of both dream and reality, and of something else that doesn’t have a name. They tempt the viewer in two opposite directions. One is to look and admire the elegance and other visual properties of the composition, and the other is to make up stories about what one sees. In Cornell’s art, the eye and the tongue are at cross purposes. Neither one by itself is sufficient. It’s that mingling of the two that makes up the third image.”

– Charles Simic
Dime store Alchemy

I so recommend this book. I got it as a gift from my much older sister who is knitting me a sweater several years ago and it has been next to my bed ever since waiting for me.

I asked students to keep that in mind, the unnamable thing, the third kind of image, as the worked on their boxes in the forest at Squam:

*click the images for a larger view – there are lots of details.

And just like that it’s fall. September has gone by in a flash and I miss the forest, especially my early morning walk along this path for coffee. Until next time.

“The real things are happening in the forest still.” – Charlotte Mew

gunderson and snodd, a plum bat and other creatures

September 8, 2017

by annwood

* The owls and everything below (plus some lambs in pants) are in the shop now.

Meet Mr. Snodd and Mr Gunderson. The best of friends. I spent the last couple weeks finishing things, getting almost done stuff across the finish line. It clears out so much brains space. And I love the sensation of crossing something off the list. I’m shifting my focus now to last minute workshop prep. I did not achieve the dream of being fully prepared a week ahead of time but I’m in better shape than I usually am this close to leaving. Progress, not perfection right?

This plum bat is the second one I’ve made with the new method and I’m happy with it. There are still some complications and difficulties I need to get rid of though before I can think about turning it into a sewing pattern.

The ship above is made from the small ship pattern. And the gentleman sailor owl is the small size from the little owl pattern.

And a slate finch. I wish you could feel her velvet head.

I’m spending the rest of the day sorting through mountains of fabric and lace to decide what’s coming with me. Some will be for workshops and some for the Squam Art Fair. I’ll be there with sewing patterns and some vintage supplies. Or just come say hi. If you do please bring me a beer (the keg is by the door).

stitching owls and birds in prospect park

September 1, 2017

by annwood

get the sewing patterns:

September first was an excellent day for sewing outside. I spent most of the afternoon hand stitching in Prospect Park. I should do it more often, it’s always lovely. I worked on owls and finished a new songbird.

The lambs in pants came too, they read, explored, drank sweet tea and napped all afternoon, the way lambs like to (P.S. the tiny quilt was a gift – it’s spectacular – thank you CP!).

On the way out of the park I wanted one more photo – the lamb with his book and satchel. The little yellow satchel is special – I love it and it was my plan to never part with it. When I looked for it among my bags of packed up things it was nowhere. I searched furiously, unpacking everything and realized it was officially gone. Out in the world all alone. It was breezy, it had been quite a while since I packed up and I was far away from where I had been sitting so it seemed pretty hopeless. Walking back to the original spot seemed like a waste of time and I was already late. But I did it anyway. And there it was. Undisturbed on the grass under the tree looking especially tiny. It was a tiny satchel miracle.

Wishing you a lovely weekend and a Happy September,
ann

margin – or, panic early

August 24, 2017

by annwood

I first published this post more than two years ago. In all of my 11 years of blogging it is one of my favorites. It is also still my biggest struggle. I’m sharing it with you today for two reasons:

For the first time in a long time I haven’t got a blog post this week. I’m occupied with filling orders, details for upcoming workshops and beginning to plan new classes and workshops for 2018 (including at least one in Europe…… stay tuned).
The message, the idea of margin, is one I need to hear and apply again and again but especially right now. It boils down to this – when there is certainly and officially too much to do – the only sensible thing is to decide to do less. Ideally before it gets decided for you.

I’m forcing myself into my high gear, last minute place, that magic spot where priorities are crystal clear and hard decisions get made easily. I’m forcing myself into that place a little early so the week before I leave to teach I’ll be one of those super chill prepared people. For the first time. Ever.

(This post was originally published April 2015 – I’ve updated with images of preparations for my natural history workshop)

Had I already mastered the idea of margin in my life I wouldn’t be editing this post 20 minutes before I need to publish it. But I have not mastered margin, not at all. Margin is the space between, the room left for error or chance, the cushion, and I rarely have any. I’m the guy hand making one more Christmas gift at 2 AM on the 24th, 10 year old me was adding glitter to my styrofoam ball planets on the bus to the science fair. It isn’t really about procrastination (although I’m great at that too) – it’s more – I see some space, some room and think “why not add something?! Why not make it better?! Let’s do both!”. It is a kind of misguided enthusiasm – it’s hard to say no to something I’d love to do even when I know there isn’t enough time. It also comes from fear of lack – fear that the universe will find me ungrateful and opportunities will disappear, it’s living in fear, fear of scarcity. And I am a wishful thinker, I catch myself all the time planning for things to go perfectly, filling every possible moment with commitments, scheduling things back to back or overlapping. It feels like I’m being diligent, a hard worker, but I’m setting myself up to fail – when there is no room for error some little thing, like the printer breaking, can become a huge deal.

When you have margin you have options – so often in this life that I supposedly designed to afford choice I feel I have none. And I need to fix that. Fix it or miss out on my best work. Fix it or be swept along in the chaos – just reacting to emergencies.

I came across this article recently and for some reason it penetrated in a way that the idea just hasn’t before. It got my attention and it stuck with me and I understand something new: margin isn’t something that happens when things get magically better, it is a decision.

It’s a choice.

It’s a choice and a discipline, something you plan for. I don’t have a busyness problem I have a decision making problem.

It sounds simple – just plan for extra time – but It means fighting against life long inclinations and habits, the temptation to fill every available minute is strong. My first move in the right direction is to figure out how to take one day a week completely off. Oh boy. My current situation is so far away from that I can barely get my head around the idea and at this point I think it’s going to take a while to make it happen. I’m hoping for progress, not perfection, for improvement, some sense that this is attainable for me.

So much of the new stuff I’m trying is working but I think this one issue is the lynch pin, the biggest obstacle, the thing between me and real improvement in my work and my life.

mending, tiny pants, a blue owl, and other travel sewing

August 18, 2017

by annwood

Another thing to love about small sewing, hand sewing, is how well it travels. I’m packing up some projects today and heading out to water and forests and people who have forgotten what I look like.

Find the owl sewing pattern here

This blue owl is coming. His indigo wings are all pinned up and ready for stitching. I love the blues, the variety, layered together Boro style. There is also some small blue appliqué work – I’m experimenting with eyes. More on that soon.

I’m bringing lot’s of mending too. The seats of my pants mostly. I’ve been wandering around lately with extra and unseemly ventilation.

And I’m spending some time with Joseph Cornell’s boxes and thinking about how things, objects, relate to each other, the moods and atmosphere and ideas those relationships can create and the poetry of things. They are ideas important to upcoming workshops.

And I want to sit by the water and make tiny trousers. Tiny trousers for little lamb gentlemen.

I find the little pants particularly satisfying – they are quick and there is just something about tiny pants.

I want to come home with a little pile of satchels and pants.

good and simple lamb folk

August 11, 2017

by annwood

Patched and mended, a little worse for wear, but good and happy sheep, sheep who persevere. I made mr. and mrs. lamb from the mr. socks pattern with just a couple little modifications. Their outfits and the satchel are made from the tiny rag doll clothing and wardrobe patterns with modifications detailed here.

The only changes are to the head. I made ears – gray on one side and black on the other – stitched with the right sides together. I left the last half inch open for turning right side out.

You can grab a template for those little pieces here.

I closed the opening, whip stitched around the seam and then stitched the ears to the head. I cut a little circular head cover instead of the pointy mr. socks head cover.

I pinned the head cover in place and stitched over the ears and across the front. I added a tiny bit of stuffing before closing the back so his head would be smooth.

Here they are all sheepified – mrs. has got some seriously happy ears.

Mr. L’s tiny trousers are my favorite part – made from the super easy and free! tiny pants sewing pattern.

The little pants are quick and easy to make and easy to size up or down for other dolls. Find the pattern and tutorial here.

Mr. L sports the always risky pants and scarf but no shirt look.

He is off to wander among the woebegone pines. Find the free pattern for the trees right here. And perhaps some sledding, still sans shirt…

(find the popsicle stick sled diy here)

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slower, quieter : experimenting with appliqué

August 4, 2017

by annwood

Sewing is frequently on my mind when I’m painting and drawing and painting and drawing is frequently on my mind when I’m sewing. Lots of intersections, lots of overlap. I wondered what might happen in the translation process – from paint to cloth. Wondered if it would be interesting – what it might change or reveal. I decided to try some things this week. Make my self start, start before I had it all figured out, before I know what they might be. I chose a couple simple and small designs to begin. The ideas emerged from my sketchbook work, my little daily paintings.

At first I tried turning, basting and ironing the edges of my sometimes tiny shapes before stitching. It was tedious and awkward and I found I liked cutting shapes and turning the edges under as I stitched much better. And the translation process is interesting. I found lot’s of inspiration there. It is slower and quieter than paint. I think hard about relationships, my decisions are deliberate. And there is an element of happenstance – the cloth brings unexpected details, textures and colors I did not invent.

I never would have chosen a warm red for this piece- but it was all I had so I tried it and I love it. Making those big, bold red stitches was surprisingly satisfying.

And it’s the perfect kind of sewing for the morning – before I’m quite awake. I love having something all ready for stitching, waiting for me when I get up – everything cut and pinned. It is also good traveling work, subway work, sit in the park work.

I have plans for lot’s more of these. Some tiny and some large. I’d love to do a very large stitched interpretation of this swan. It will take me one million years to make.