Peace Love Venice

It's easy, if you try.

Sometimes

Sometimes the field of daisies is in bloom,
and sometimes your precious little girl is all dressed up,
and sometimes you have a camera. That is a really good time.

FYI: Ponte Rock Venice, available soon in Europe from Farbenmix.

Lach mich schlapp!

I am a very, very, very lucky person to be blessed with such generosity. In one of my moments of low blog wit, I mentioned how much I like European sewing pins. Lo and behold, look what I get in the mail! (What if I mentioned how much I like German cars ...?) Not only the sewing pins, but--looky looky--an authentic appliqué from the often imitated but never, ever duplicated Creabine (I'd show you how very detailed and carefully crafted this darling bug is, but darn it, if that girl's brilliant ideas don't get swiped out from underneath her ...). And some awesome Stoff!

I don't spend hours at JoAnn's combing the racks (the muzak is enough to make me harbor mean thoughts). I get some basics, like denim, eyelet, maybe some specialty cotton (and only because it is located next to the denim), I get my notions, I stock up on the bias tape German- Democratic-Republic-style, because JoAnn's always runs out and then takes six months to restock ... and I then I get the heck outta there before Whitney tells me that the "Greatest Love of All" is happening to her.

I don't get all that jazzed about fabric. I get excited about texture and hand and weight, but I don't think too much about the color or the print. All I ask my Internet suppliers is, "Tell me what it feels like." Really. Seems odd, but let me explain. I like to find out what a material does. I like to see where a seam placed this way or that will have an effect. Seams are where the alchemy of clothing design happens. Fabric selection conveys the cultural reference or mood the seamstress is trying to strike. I make road maps and the fabric is too close to the final destination for me to think about. Still, I need fabric. Therefore, my favorite fabric to work with is fabric picked out by somebody else for me. I recently stitched together a new pattern from a fabric that was given to me. It was a material I probably would have passed over at the store. And yet, when I stitched the two halves together and saw how the fabric fell and flowed, it was one of those really happy moments when I knew the design would work. I like it so much, I'm putting this particular design example on the cover of the pattern.

Thank you.

Relay team

This is a picture of my son after the City track meet. He could not leave the field fast enough. His event was the 400m Relay. Let me tell you this: Jack was the anchor and he passed two kids in his 100m stretch. Still, his team finished 4th. "I hate Robert." That was all he managed to say after several minutes.

"You might be angry at him right now, but you don't hate him. Everybody messes up once in a while. "

I guess Robert was a bit confused and jogged instead of sprinted his first leg. Jack thinks he was just goofing off. And somehow, to Jack, his personal absolutely outstanding performance did not matter. The saying goes you learn the most through disappointment and hard times. I hope Jack learns that each member of a sports team or a project team is important.

It got me to thinking about Sabine and the Farbenmix team. Never once have they jogged when they should have sprinted. Never once have they dropped the baton. Never once said a discouraging word. I'm so lucky to have this team on my side.

I get asked once in a while, "So, how do you make sewing patterns?" Well, it's really not anything more than getting the pieces drafted and graded and then sending the sheet to the printers. Just like that, you've got yourself a sewing pattern! Well, there is more to it. For me, at least, you need a few people, whom you admire, who believe in your design and whose honest opinion you respect, and who will invest their own time and ideas to make your idea work. That is the input that makes a sewing pattern a good sewing pattern. Absolutely essential.

Thank you.

If I could save time in a bottle ...

She's all the inspiration I need!

Seven ...

Darn it. Princess Tomato tagged me. Seven facts, huh? About me? Well, Tomato is one of those people, for whom I will do whatever she tells me to. I’ll keep it short and no photos of my scars. Here goes!

1. I am a mafia princess in the witness protection program.
2. I was on the grassy knoll.
3. I hung and dimpled all those chads in Broward County. Blame me.
4. Elvis is alive in my crawl space.
5. I like piña coladas. And getting caught in the rain. I’m not into health food. I am in-to cham-pagne.
6. I’m from the planet Quimmerix. Surrender now before I quimmirerate your heads.
7. I’m one sarcastic, sardonic hausfrau and could go on like this all day.

Seven things: I’m not that big on self-indulgence (yeah, yeah, and I blog: I’m a hypocrite—let that be “1.” Not that self-indulgent all at once, maybe). Part of the reason I really love the German language, is the fact that the word “I” is “ich”: Lower case (while forms of “you” are capitalized), and therefore “ich” is somewhat demoted. Plus it is pronounced “EEEE” and ends in a cat hiss. If you’re lucky, that is: In some of the lovelier parts of Germany, “ich” is “EEEE” plus above-mentioned cat coughing up a hair ball. “Ich” is just a sound to avoid. I prefer to talk about ideas. I don’t like to talk about people. Oh, let that count as “1” instead. Six more to go. All right, already …

2. I have 400 pages of a novel on my hard drive. Pure pulp. But I’d show it to a literary agent, if I ever run into one.
3. I’ll go to a museum of anything. If somebody took the time to put it in a glass case, I want to know about it. I stop the car at historic landmarks.
4. I’m still going with the mafia princess thing. That will give me some street creds and will strike some nice anxious fear into the hearts of all the literary agents I run into. And the planet Quimmerix stuff: Totally true. But not the sarcastic bit, no, not one bit of truth there.
5. I used to fly sailplanes and I have a deep, unrequited love of aviation.
6. My mother died of cancer. I think that will be my fate, as well. You can’t do much about the length of your life, just the depth and breadth.

I’m supposed to tag other people? Shoot. I’ll tag K.P., because she’s self-indulgent in a good way. See, she was taking steroids for this horrible shoulder-neck-nerve nasty pain and now she’s stopped taking them. And since steroids are basically chemical hormones, the girl is going through some hormone-induced mood swings: In other words, basically, K.P. is a teenager. She’s coloring her hair pink and is saying things like, “Gawd, people are SUCH idiots!” Just like that. Let’s see if she’ll tell us if Doc Martens really are flame retardant, how to dye a cat pink … but, oh please, nothing about high school home ec class. Please.

Diana: To me, she’s like the other new kid at school. We started our blogs at about the same time and she helps me. I hope she likes me, too.
Chris: Chris has got a lot to say. And she needs to practice her English for the test.
Diba: Up to this, Barbara darling? I can read your mind, so I could do this for you…

I don’t know seven blogsters that well! Um … Cree’s already been tagged … I might just have to hit the “next blog” button.

Sabine: Yeah, Sabine-Sweet Caroline, because she’s visits my blog and is consistently positive.

Some folks I know need their space ... who? Who? Who? AHA! All the Jaynes: Get on your blog. That's close to seven.


Guess I better go tell ‘em: Tagged! You’re “it”!

Who knows?

This glass basket vase filled with roses and jasmine and orchids (are those orchids?) fresh from somebody's yard was left on my doorstep. I don't know who left it. There's neither card nor note. This surprise produced a two-fold blessing: First of all, a basket of roses, jasmine and maybe-orchids is something to inspire Patrick Süskind. The second blessing was the fact that while I was playing the guessing game of who this thoughtful person might be, I realized the anonymous gifter could have been a number of different people. It made me realize how many good and gracious people I know: Neighbors, parents or friends or all three. Thank you, dear flower-basket-leaver-behinder, and thank you, dear neighbors, parents and friends, for my happy suspicions.

That brings me to my next idea. Some weeks ago, I was thinking about the people, with whom I had lost contact. I asked Duke and Karen what they thought of a certain idea and -- shazam! -- no more had I said what I thought about doing, than they made these pieces of metal art: Hearts with butterfly wings.

My plan is this: I am going to mail these to long lost friends, perhaps anonymously. I will include a note saying, that my life has been enriched by having known that person and I will always be grateful for having had his/her friendship. The recipient may keep the item or, if the recipient so chooses, he or she may pass on this piece of metal art on to someone else, with whom they lost contact. I'd like to set up an email and maybe a flickr, where the recipients may leave a message or post a picture of where these pieces travel.

This is one of those things, that may land on it's face. I know that. What would I do if I received such a thing in the mail? I'm not sure, really. My hope is that it would have some of the same effect as the flowers on my doorstep yesterday. Agape and random kindness/senseless acts of beauty: That is what I am shooting for. Walk the walk, not just stick the bumper sticker. Agape is a word I came across in the Jamba Juice, you know, waiting for my smoothie order in a book on the Shelves of Should. The Shelves of Should is the display in the Jamba Juice of books on the Pilates you Should do and the marathon-for-the-cure you Should run and the vegetarianism you Should ascribe to and the path to spiritual Enlightenment you Should follow. I usually skip over the yoga and Pilates stuff and go straight to the Kharma for Idiots books with the great ideas, quotations and ways to put yourself in the moment--without being double jointed.

I'm hesitant, sure, to do this (Is this something for which I could be sued?). So far, these pieces of metal art were made out of unconditional friendship for me. The theory goes that love knows no end. So, sure, I'm willing to land flat on my face with this. I'm trying. Maybe the idea will soar. Maybe something good will happen.

Feel free to consider yourself "tagged" to do something similar.