Misfits box, drawn threads and immigrants

The Misfits box arrived, in time for me to have a tuna melt with spinach for lunch. To be exact, cheese arrived. I'd finished the curried lentils already, so there was a lunch vacancy.

The eggs were also the cavalry coming over the hill, since I forgot to order last week and was down to the last egg. Panic, couldn't make mayo! Or egg salad, no mayo, no eggs.

The nutritious crushed almonds in dark chocolate also saved the dessert day, no yogurt made yet. 

I got an unexpected helping hand, from Gary's little granddaughter, who ran over to give me a hug and tell me they were off to find a pool to swim in. Then she held the door for me while I heaved the box indoors.

The artworks were picked up promptly by a very excited taker, so I think they're off to a good home.

And I did some drawn threads on the latest piece.

All the threads I drew out completely will be useful to invisibly stitch down this page to the muslin base.  I've set it aside till tomorrow, and I'll see what fifty things need to happen next.

I was involved in a discussion elsewhere about being an immigrant, and some of the issues there. One of them is the definite message from quite a lot of people that you must justify being here. Unlike native born Americans, you're expected to give value.

I don't mind giving value, like many immigrants,  and I certainly have, in many ways blogistas don't know about because I haven't written about it.  There's a privilege in making it through all the bureaucracy and challenges, that you feel you need to more than justify. Immigrants get it done is not an idle phrase.

And then there's  the expectation also that you also have no business having opinions, particularly political ones, however long you've lived here. 

I've been challenged about that by people younger than I, who haven't lived here as long as I! Even told that "real" -- native born -- are entitled, but not people from "away". Naturalized citizenship simply doesn't count in some eyes.  

When people get really offensive about it, a rare occurrence, I play the eighth generation New York State card. That's my family who arrived in the 1850s  in New York harbor, just like me in the 1960s, and settled in northern New York State. 

This baffles people who know I'm first generation, and  can't grasp that entire extended families don't all emigrate together! There are always branches that stay. I don't know why this is hard to grasp, but it is. 

And don't get me started on people who flame out if I disagree with them. That's getting out of my assigned place as a permanent guest.

Sometimes I get annoyed, and sometimes I find it very funny. A lot of annoying things are eventually funny, when you reframe them as people worried that they're being outdone. I think it's not about me, it's about them, really, so I handle with care.

Happy day everyone, let's make interesting stuff and handle each other with care, if you follow me!

 

Back to the fabric book

It's the summer solstice, midsummer's day 

The freecycled art leaves tomorrow, and it's created a rush of energy for my next artwork. It never fails. Move out works you've moved on from, and ideas come crowding in. When you hang onto things, it's like a cork in a bottle. Pop the cork, champagne, bubbles!

And freeing up space does the same. Here's my treefree living room 

 I've been thinking about the next page in the fabric book, mainly about deconstructing a piece of fabric I was given, in various ways. I've had I dunamany ideas about it, including this kind of approach, a MOMA tutorial.

As you see, there's a history, Anni Albers being a leading light of the Bauhaus, then at Black Mountain College in its glory days. Anyway, this feel, but I want it less gridded.

pulling threads is something I've loved ever since I got hold of fabric to do it with, and when I learned drawn thread work at about eleven. It's playtime, but now with more meaning.

So here's the starting point

And we'll see!

Happy day, everyone! Art is hard, hugely important and the best fun. Maybe you'll do some. Or some more -- several blogistas are talented artists.  I particularly like it when blogistas with their own blogs share their work and process. Thank you,  everyone who does that. And thank you, the faithful readers who are happy to encourage.

Juneteenth, Neighborhood natter, and Textiles and Tea

First, today's a federal holiday

It's all still very much a work in progress, but meanwhile, we can do our bit -- buy black writers' books, seek out black owned businesses where we can, tip servers and delivery workers fairly, not the grudging minimum.  And enjoy the day.

 Yesterday's Textiles and Tea was a great tapestry artist, definitely worth checking out. Tapestry makers are such happy people, from Archie Brennan, to Sarah Swett, to 

I've requested the library buy her book, newly published. She specializes in a technique called pulled warp, which results in a three dimensional effect, as you see. She dyes her own threads, too.  

This is the kind of work that makes you want to try it, even when you're just making little squares on your pinloom. Her design sense is spectacular.  Those green pieces above the book have glass globes resting in the fold, like raindrops. Another idea to try..rabbit hole ahead!

An interesting little bit of follow-up about hearing aids and curtains and trees leaving. Email from concerned local friend, with serious health issues,  a hit or miss blog reader, worried about what aids I'm needing, was my health getting frail, was the implication. I clarified it's only hearing aids, not a squadron of home carers!

Another neighbor came across last evening, concerned that then house seemed dark but the front door was open, was I okay? I realized that the curtain I put up in the passthrough works both ways -- from her house across the street it blocks my living room lights. So yes,  good of her to check! 

Later it  occurred to me she's also wondering about the tree leaving, which she was home for and probably observed, and was hoping to learn more. At my age when you do noticeable changes, the usual assumption among friends and neighbors unless they know otherwise,  is that you've had a big medical diagnosis!  If the other friend and I were still writing our imaginary H-- Happenings newsletter, this would have made it in. Maybe we'd have even headed it Breaking News, Such As It Is.

Happy day, everyone, wishing you innocent merriment!

Art leaving home, other friends, too.

After what was starting to look like a penpal correspondence with one freecycler, who asked many questions but didn't commit, another one came in, selected four artworks, count them, and wants to pick up Thursday morning. That's better.

So once I had disentangled his choices, selected from two different posts, I set them aside for him, and we'll see. He definitely picked well, if I understood his choices correctly.

This morning I set up the official hearing-aid fitting ready to get the aids built for me. Mid July. Good thing I'm not in a mad rush. After the fitting and order, another month to get them.  So by fall I hope to hear leaves falling!

This afternoon the ficus leaves for her new home, speaking of leaves.

Library crew in action 

Off to her new home. I told her to be a good tree, and make me proud. Gary has been loudly campaigning against this move for months, but he was out when the Big Lift happened. Came home about five minutes later! Phew.

It's all go, this simplifying life. I'm tired out making things easier. I did get a sort of picture of a pleated pocket, hard to see with a printed fabric. But for people wondering, this is more or less the idea.

Once it's in action, I may add another pleat. If it flops with stuff in the pocket. As you see, just a simple unpressed mini pleat. It hangs pretty well now, in a nice shape. Easy, really.

Happy day, everyone, keep cool if you're in the heat dome. Currently my screen reads "feels like 99°f". Probably better if I don't know that.

Ready with my suntea

 

Freecycle, posies and other small things

I'm still winnowing. Art this time. From up in the loft. I've put these on free cycle, in hopes.  They're all framed and wired. That might be an attraction in itself.

One of the cutting things people do, sometimes innocently, is to ask about the frames. Not the art. But I'm not bitter.

And speaking of tiny tasks you finally get around to, the yellow skirt I made a while back, with patch pockets, needed a little something. The fabric is so soft the pockets kind of flop a bit. I've been thinking for, maybe a year mphm mphm, about running elastic along the tops to fix that.

This morning I finally got the skirt out and  found I'd done a really good job, making the pockets of double fabric. Not a hem I could open. Oh. Then I remembered I'm in my pleat period. Bingo. One little pleat in the top of each, nice design touch, and functional. Total time elapsed including finding thread and needle, five minutes.  

You could, of course, say the time elapsed since I first noticed the flopping was vital to the elegance of what now looks like an easy fix. In fact, I think that's what I will say.

And Emma Mitchell has produced a whole array, heck, a panoply, of tiny posies for our mental health.

Happy day, everyone, put your best descriptive foot forward. Nobody else will do it for you.