my big creative year : doll – part 1

doll experiment

Historically,  I’ve gotten hugely annoyed when described as a doll maker. Nothing against dolls – I love them so much – in all their forms – and there are so many incredible doll makers I admire. But still, I have felt resistance about creating anything that could very officially be called a doll.  I told myself – it just isn’t what I do.  Except it keeps coming up….   So I decided to make a doll.  And ran right into a bunch of nuttiness and resistance – all the usual suspects:

  •  I had a million ideas – I wanted to make LOTS of dolls – it felt impossible to choose where to begin – I was overwhelmed.
  •  I got all weird about what people might think.
  •  I wanted to make the best and most perfect doll ever – right out of the gate.

I stayed stuck and thinking for quite a while and then got past that the only way there is –  by starting. By taking a small action – gathering supplies.  Sorting through boxes and boxes of old garments and fabric with doll in mind made me see all sorts of new possibilities and qualities in things I’ve looked at a hundred times before. I got a lot of momentum from that exercise and started drawing, drafting and experimenting – in that good place of letting something evolve. You can see the very beginnings  of  the thinking, experimenting, drafting and refining process – my wonky first steps – below.

doll drafting

Stay tuned for doll #1.

 

19th century surprise in a phoebe nest, fungi and a newt

newt

I sew in a little house in the Adirondacks as much as possible in the warmer months.  And every year (so far) Eastern Phoebes build a nest under the roof overhang and have little Phoebes – sometimes two broods in a season.  I love watching them. This year I got a chance to examine a nest up close for the first time.  It is a beautiful, delicate, thoughtfully made thing – one little bit at a time (Phoebe’s are pretty small).

phoebe nest

I don’t notice the thread or wool stuffing that floats away while I’m working but apparently they do and there it was, woven into the nest- the soft wooly stuff right on top for warm comfortable babies.  And below that there was another nest ( each brood gets a fresh nest)  with a bit of tulle  from a 19th century gown and Japanese indigo threads. I’m so pleased they found it useful!

phoebe nest

adirondack forest

I also wanted to share  a couple photos from a walk I took in a part of the forest I hadn’t explored before, a long walk off the path and through the wild stuff. The smells were incredible and I saw things I had not encountered before –  like this strange pinkish thing – I discovered later it’s coral fungi.

coral fungi

newt

And I ran into a newt – a lovely little red eft who graciously let me take his picture.

my big creative year : the forest and impermanence

forest passage

The pace of time seems to escalate in the spring and fall – the shortest and sweetest seasons. Everything changes so quickly. I went into the forest last week with the intention of soaking up as much as I could and spending time making something that wouldn’t last.

forest loom

forest loom

I began to experiment  with something small – sort of a mini loom – to get a feel for manipulating things. I made a frame from twigs and string and wove in what I liked, looked for more with fresh eyes and tried things.  It made me look at everything differently, more thoughtfully and with deeper appreciation. I saw qualities and details of grasses and vines and mosses I had never seen before.

forest loom

The next day I went back out wanting to try something larger, with only what I could find in the forest. I walked and gathered and felt my mind ticking briskly along, seeing lines, shapes relationships and intersections I hadn’t seen before. I chose a spot and started experimenting without much of a plan, the idea that it did not need to, and could not last opened me to all sorts of possibilities. I played for hours and it turned into a sort of arch – a magic passage for creatures who might come upon it before it blew away.

forest passage

I went out with a lantern that night for a look and to imagine what it might be like to come upon such a thing in the forest unexpectedly.  The next day the huge golden ferns and most of it’s other finery had wilted or blown away and it wasn’t much more than an odd pile of sticks. I had a marvelous time.

my big creative year : the magic of small

miniature donkey

miniature donkey

I am deeply interested in what happens when things get small. I always have been. Mini is intriguing. There is a lot of magic in smallness.

When the scale changes – our ideas and presumptions about lots of other things change. All sorts of fresh possibilities are revealed. It is an invitation to look harder at everything. Scotch tape dispensers can become a perfect glass display case for this melancholy little scene.  I get excited about that sort of thing.

hair hut diorama

 hair hut diorama

Of course this works in both directions but I’m much more attracted to small – I think in part because it is accessible, it can be approached in a personal and solitary way. For me that is part of the beauty of small. Big leaps of imagination are possible and mood and atmosphere can be fine-tuned  because the scale is manageable.

dioramaSo much of what I love to do has been about this kind of play – it has always been a deep drive and fascination for me. Even at it’s simplest I find it compelling.

terrarium

But why is it magic? I think because things can exist at an intersection of real and pretend by virtue of their unorthodox and unexpected size. There is instant mystery, instant story – what kind of world might this tiny thing be part of? You can see it and touch it and if you choose to, be nudged a little further down the road to make believe.

a fantastic threadbare edwardian bodice

threadbare edwardian bodice

I was so happy when this threadbare edwardian bodice arrived – it has so much and I love examining the details and scars of these old things. They feel like time travelers to me  – emissaries from a world away. It’s easy to find old black garments (ebay) but rare to find the qualities I love best.  There is a particular shade of black I like in garments of this age – it fades in a particular way.  This bodice has a fantastic range  of tones to work with.

threadbare edwardian bodiceThe texture is great too and has variety that is useful and inspiring to me – a few tiny moth holes, worn tissue thin in places and darker and more opaque in others – lovely for layering and feathers.The sleeves are gathered and blousy at the shoulder, that fabric usually escapes a lot of wear – has more integrity for sewing and stuffing.  And the velvet details – oh boy. It’s my favorite part – little accents of velvet worn to perfection. Feathers for a raven or other dark bird and I have to make an owl just because of that velvet and the remaining black glass buttons. I love it when I can make a creature entirely from a single garment and I think there are at least three here.

black velvet cuff

antique black buttons

threadbare edwardian bodice

It is such a beautifully constructed and designed thing – every detail is careful, thoughtful and precise. It is impossible to handle it and not think about the woman it belonged to and the world she lived in.  I see her in that world – her hands in that familiar, unconscious movement of buttoning all those little buttons – looking in the mirror – thinking of something else.

sketchbook : week 29

Week 29  in my yearlong sketchbook practice.  The point of this daily exercise is to play, experiment, to try things in a small un-intimidating way. But sometimes it is still to much and it’s hard to sit down, hard to make a mark – paralysis. There are a few useful tools to get myself started – like ink splatters or a random word or color and one of my favorites is number piles. I paint a series of numbers – one right on top of another at different angles, without  much thought, and then respond to the shapes and spaces that the pile creates.  It never fails to get me unstuck and open. The square – second down on the right is a pile of 3 numbers: 187.
sketchbook : week 29

textile treasures from sri threads

sri textiles

My first encounter with boro textiles was in 2003 in this article in Country Living magazine. I was stunned – instantly in love with them – the color and the composition were perfect.  The mending, the layering, the meandering stitch work all spoke to me in a novel way – I related to them at the time as paintings – as compositions that strike that magic balance, my sewing had been mostly put away for years.  I cut out the pages and stuck them on my refrigerator – my percolating thoughts place.  When I began this blog in 2006 my focus shifted pretty quickly to stitching  and through the magic of happenstance I had the opportunity to visit the Sri Threads showroom. Stephen was an instant friend and ever since packages of intriguing old cloth and garments periodically appear unannounced in my vestibule – it’s a beautiful thing.

sri threads

So much of my inspiration comes from these things I did not choose.  I’ll preserve the hand mending in the pieces below in some new creature. I love that those stitches made so long ago, and that traveled so far through so many thoughtful hands will have  a new place and meaning and the energy that went into them will impart qualities I could not.

sri textiles

I think the piece below ( it’s quite large ) is part of a futon cover – the color combination is stunning – that intense textured brown and smokey blues and purples.

sri textiles

sri textiles

This package also had lots of kimonos in various states of undone -ness.  Intense red and a variety of unexpected melony pink silks. I’ve had an idea for something rolling around for years, one of the back burner ideas I have not gotten off the ground that these are perfect for – the missing piece.

silk from sri

And pale pink, ivory and melancholy lavender –  they will also play a part in my afore mentioned stalled idea and I’ve already started a sheer, whispery and pale ship. Thank you Stephen! For all the inspiration and joy I get from these surprises. The Country Living pages remain on my refrigerator as a daily reminder of the good and unexpected things that are just around the corner.

P. S. If you like this sort of thing Sri has a spectacular instagram feed.