May11

Time and the way we travel

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Time and the way we travel

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I am loving being encouraged to create art for the Arthouse Coop projects. The end of April was the deadline for the Limited Edition Sketchbook. I think it’s my best submission so far. We’ll see you what you think. My theme was Time and the way we travel. I interpreted it in a collage of travel memorabilia and ephemera. The way we used to travel, collecting brochures, sending postcards; by train, by car, by steamship, by bicycle, by airplane… The ephemera pool I drew from ranged from the early 1900s to the 70s. I featured states, cities, countries and regions. New York, California, New England, Williamsburg, Boston, Salt Lake City, Denmark, Norway, Austria, England, Canada, Caribbean Islands, Stockholm, Visby, the Mediterranean, Venice, Florence, were all represented. I rebound this sketchbook using linen thread and print making paper and then re-covered it in a purple and gold brocade handmade paper.

Hope you get to see it when it travels around the country this year.

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Apr30

The Note Swap – Love Letters cont.

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The Note Swap – Love Letters cont.

The Note SwapI’ve been really enjoying the Arthouse Coop’s 10×10 projects this year. I just sent in my submission to The Note Swap and thought I’d share it here. The background was done with washi tape and gel medium mixed with a green powdered pigment from Pearl Ex.

You might recall that I posted a few months back, a love letter from a box which I found in grandmother’s attic. Here is another gem from that box. A different beau… George – a student at Washington & Lee University in Virginia. Oh Helen, you must have been quite a lady…

Mailed Sept. 7 1928 to

Wheeland Haven, Riverton, Illnois via Air Mail

Thursday Night

My Own Sweet Love,

I don’t know whether you will think the post-mark rather queer but there it is anyway. The reason for it is that Pete and I took a big trip in his Sea Sled. We were going to Phila but as we have to be back Sunday I’m afraid we can’t make it.

We landed at Cape May this afternoon in a driving rainstorm, soaking wet and very much discouraged. We came up to this girls house and there appeared to be nobody home so we just walked in and took off our wet clothes in the kitchen. Pete had told me that her mother did a little light and fancy drinking once in a while and when we got here we heard these queer voices upstairs and it seems the old lade was cock eyed up in her room. Just about then the girls older sister walks in and says that Pete’s girl has gone down to Virginia, so she gets us supper and then she digs up some old hen and we play bridge while her mother sings and whistles upstairs.

She then goes to sleep and we decide to go out and get a few beers. Having gotten 12 up time to go come and see if the Ma has come too yet. Pete is now on the floor writing a drunken scrawl to Mimie (which I hope this is not) while yours truly is lying on a nice soft bed writing to the darlingiest girl in all this wide world. When I get home on Sunday there had better be a letter from you or George will be the most disappointed boy in this section of the United States. I hope you got out to Riverton all right and also got my last epistle, if I remembered the address right.

Now Helen darling, I’ve come to the conclusion that I miss you more than I thought I possibly could which must be beacuse I love you terribly, awfully and I’m very much afraid infinitely which is I think, as it should be.

I love you so,

George

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Mar29

The House My Dad Built

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The House My Dad Built

Handwritten text for The House That My Dad Built
One of the latest Art House Co-op projects is Letters To Home – What would you say to your childhood home? The first thing that came to mind was the house my dad built – I should say my parents as certainly they both worked equally as hard to get the project completed but the reality is it was my Dad’s dream and my Mom’s support made it happen.

I think my father had dreamed of building a house for many years. When I was 5 he made his dream come true. He had blueprints, a building site and a vision. At some point he hand carved and hand colored a foam model. We had it for years until it started to disintegrate. I loved that model. It didn’t look anything like the final house. It was a two storey Tudor design with felt tipped marker drawn timbers.

Building a house sounds easy but it turns out it’s the experience of a lifetime. All the decisions that you make only to find out that there was another way, an easier way or sometimes a better way.

My father is the ultimate renaissance man, in another time he probably would have built the house completely on his own or with the help of a few family members. As it was he did most of the plumbing and the electrical work, he built the frames for the footings for the foundations. I remember the day they were poured. It was so exciting for both him & me. I helped of course in my 5 year old way. I’m sure I helped a lot.

My father had the dream of having a pond at the front of the house so he had a concrete pool built. Then he designed for a bridge to go over which led to the front door to be made of two thick concrete slabs. The day the heavy pre-formed concrete arrived my father was away at work. He had a full time job as a professor. So my mom got to be the on-site boss. When the crane dropped the concrete pieces into place she thought it looked wrong. There was a big cleft, a hole, left in the center. She was sure it couldn’t be right. So she instructed the crane operator to flip one over. Guess what, concrete pieces are reinforced so that they support the weight on one side. It cracked in half. When my father got home they had 3 pieces of walkway instead of two. They re-flipped the broken piece and somehow fit it back together. They made it work. But I will always remember the big crack and how it got there. When they filled the pond finally, it flooded the basement. A minor mistake in calculations. They fixed that too. The basement had another unfortunate pool too, when the foundation was dug they hit groundwater. That was another challenge to solve. Nothing was ever impossible, only a mild setback.

My father dreamed of a white marble fireplace for the living room which would reach right up to the cathedral ceiling. He made it happen renting an arc welder to make the frame and ordering the big slabs. The sparks from the welder burned holes in our couch which was sitting under plastic in the living room.

When we moved in the house wasn’t completely done. I remember the gold foil wallpaper they picked for the powder room in which had globes on it. The new furniture that was ordered in green naugahyde for the family room to match the green plaid carpet.

The house was more than a house because it was the house my dad built. I turned 6 in that house. My grandmother bought me my very first bicycle, it was pink and purple and had a basket. My wonderful parents let me choose a puppy, a cocker spaniel. He lived for the first weeks of his life with us in a refrigerator box in the kitchen. The linoleum floor in shades of gold and brown was slippery and when he tried to walk on it his little legs would slide out from under him. That year I was the Queen of Hearts for Halloween, my mom made my costume. I remember being at the front door to greet the trick or treaters. Our neighbors had kids. I remember going to their house for lunch. Grilled cheese sandwiches and canned tomato soup. I’d never had canned tomato soup before. My grandfather had worked at Campbell’s Soup and my mother never served it as she had a great distaste for it. I went to my first rock concert at the CNE grandstand that year.

The thought, energy and attention to detail that went into the building of a house, did not escape the wide eyes of my 6 year old self. Even the landscaping was down with great care.

The back patio was made of huge pieces of flagstone. I remember the trials and tribulations of choosing the stone and getting it set. I think the patio is still there. I hope so. The house is still there, it still has the same carriage house light fixtures my mom and dad chose for the garage. The little tree that my parents planted in the front is now a huge fir tree.

The memory is now as old as the house. The House My Dad Built.
The House That My Dad Built - Letter to Home Project @arthouse

The House That My Dad Built - Letter to Home Project @arthouse in Progress

Jan29

The Sketchbook Project 2012

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The Sketchbook Project 2012

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It’s been a wild transition from 2011 to 2012, and with so much going on, it’s been impossible to blog about it. In between days, both T & I have been completing our sketchbooks which are due next week for the ArthouseCoop Sketchbook Tour 2012. Hopefully our creations will find lots of eyes and hands along the tour this year.

I used a combination of ephemera collage, art and scrapbooking techniques in mine, lightening the weight by utilizing laser printing. Almost every page has a lift-the-flap element. I used embroidery cotton to create the flaps on copies of vintage postcards. The base for most pages is a romance novel from the 1930s which I rescued and repurposed. I especially love the little print on the cover. I created it from an 1890s vintage woodblock that was made for a card game called Lost Heir.

My theme was time traveler. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves. 

I’m also participating in the Limited Edition Sketchbook Project and have till April to complete that book. My scissors are at the ready!

If you are interested in seeing our 2011 submissions the link is here: Last year T & I participated in the Sketchbook Tour and Photomobile. I also completed a book for the Fiction Project.

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Nov20

Learning through Play

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Learning through Play

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Generally I don’t like riding a trend. Somehow here we are, right in the middle of the learning through play movement. As in any emerging field, there are tons of newly minted experts popping up at conventions and in city centers with fabulous visions, great ideas and buckets of energy. It’s easy to get swept up in the whirl of excitement. I started to question where I stand on education and its future. The dazzle of new opportunity blinded me.

I cleared my head. Or rather my son did. I had asked him to watch a video of kids designing games in a fun summer camp setting. He made it 1/2 way before he declared it “boring” and went back to the project he was working on in Minecraft. I started to get incensed, thinking he wasn’t really considering the opportunity. He wasn’t seeing what wondrous possibilities might await him, what working with a team of enthusiastic kids could merit. Then I took a step back, slightly bewildered, and realized that in his wisdom of few years, he’d cut to the chase. I wasn’t looking through his eyes, I was looking through mine, the eyes and mind that had been conditioned to play in an pre-organized way, to learn in a classroom, in a group.

These new classes/workshops/experiences are different. They are constructed to be child driven learning, with the focus on play, exploration, discovery and problem solving. But that’s it, right there in front of us. The design and the construction, is what makes it organized and less interesting to him. The “we have a challenge and need to address it” that’s given by the adult to the child to start the experience. The next step is the planning and process, which again is often set up by the adults involved. Of course they support the child’s dreams, desires, wishes but in the end it’s a program, a step by step process, that no matter how creatively based, it’s still not (in most cases), child driven. Even in the exceptional situations, programs like these are usually a group experience – and that means sacrifice.

I really thought about it, and thought about my personal experiences with education. I realized that I agreed with him, although I hadn’t seen it initially. That veil gone, I saw that organized programs almost never are better than an individual, or spontaneous experience. That taking a class on how to do something implicitly involves teaching or directed learning, and do I dare say it, often as not, harnesses and directs (or limits) creativity.

So does that infer there is less value to the experience? Perhaps not. Where there is freedom, a different self-directed experience can result. It’s a more creative experience because it’s not directed by outside sources. I am not suggesting to never take a class or a workshop. Exposure to new techniques, ideas, values, make for evolution of thought, and I find sometimes jump start me to a new level of creativity. But in contrast, spontaneous sparks are what take innovation to the next level. Time spent in “class”, “workshop” or with “directed learning” should be the limited experience, not the preferred method.

Learning through Play? Why yes! But learning through play in school? Certainly a better choice, especially compared to the traditional experience that most schools offer. Not a train for us jump onto, but fascinating to watch as it gathers speed…

Nov16

An Afternoon with Patina

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An Afternoon with Patina

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T & I have been working tirelessly making gorgeous new pieces from precious metal clay for the HuntingDragons etsy store. The pieces are made, fired, brushed and tumbled. But there’s one more important step. Today T & I spent the afternoon adding patina to our fine silver pieces.

We used a new cool product, appropriately from Cool Tools which is liver of sulphur in suspension. You add a few drops to warm water and it’s ready to go. We tried out a new technique, painting on the patina on and dipping to finish. To create depth and shine to them we used another cool product which is called pumice powder. You wet a finger and rub it on and then polish it off or wash it off. I think the results are fabulous. T isn’t selling his Minecraft Creeper pendant… bet you can see why!

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Oct27

The Great Costume Making Adventure – Year 2: Minecraft

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The Great Costume Making Adventure – Year 2: Minecraft

The Wire frame and bit of fabric for the Creeper Costume

This year’s costume challenge is a Minecraft Creeper. If you know what that looks like, your thoughts invariably head toward cardboard boxes. This is not my direction. I wanted to create something more permanent, and something more easily mobile. My thoughts turned to duck tape, paper and then fabric. So for better or worse, I have undertaken the impossible task for me the anti-seamstress; A fabric based project. Fortunately I have a circle of sewing machine user supporters. First my Mother-in-law an art quilt maker and then my Mother, a sewing machine mistress of long standing. Still there is much more than the sewing in this endeavor. There is the frame. I decided on wire and my Father and I constructed a wireframe out of lightweight wire, with soldered corner and wire cross supports after spending most of an hour trying to calculate dimensions and proportions. We have a back up plan of a wooden frame, because untested we still don’t know if the wire will work. It’s a team project.

The project gets further complicated in that the fabric we chose was fleece. I found a pattern for a creeper plush online and purchased it to use as a guidance. They used fleece, and I loved the texture. The trouble is that the plush is considerably smaller than the costume we’re creating and… drumroll please… it’s creeper green – our creeper is not. That means that the color patterning isn’t the same, so I am on my own. What’s new?

My Mother-in-law boiled the color patterning down to a quilting technique, bless her. So we have a game plan that involved sewing strips of color and cutting them to get strips of squares. Still there is a mountain of sewing ahead. Did I mention that fleece is slightly stretchy? 5 days to Halloween. If it’s good we’ll take it to Minecon. If we fail, there’s always last year’s Steampunk Robot Costume to wear again. Wish us luck. Lots of it.

Oct27

A Treasury of Curated Etsy Treasuries

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A Treasury of Curated Etsy Treasuries


After stocking my store (the pendant in the photo is now available in the HuntingDragons Etsy Store), and joining a few teams. I decided to feature some of the other wonderful artists on etsy. I’m now the curator of a number of Etsy Treasuries. If you get a chance take a look!

Halloween Themed

A Batty Treasury of Bats

Pumpkins, Spooks, Autumn, Jack o’Lantern

Colorful Treasuries

Bold Blues & Bright Reds

Everything Has Gone Green

A Touch of Blue to Brighten Your Day

Glints of Gold & Shimmers of Bronze

Saucy Shades of Cranberry

And for Something Completely Different:

Spikey Spikes of Bumpy Knobbiness

Rose Fire: Gifts & Indulgences

Jul27

Love letters

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Love letters

Love Letter 1930

Love Letter from Archer to Helen, 1930


A few days ago, I was rearranging the closet and came across 4 photo boxes. I knew what was in them; letters. More than 10 years ago, I had meticulously sorted them and labeled them; packing them carefully away until I had time to read them all or have need of them. I had rescued them from the attic of grandmother’s house where they had been marked for trash, and no part of me could let those boxes fall into the clutches of a garbage man. Then, I didn’t know what they contained, I was merely protecting ephemera and family relics. The handwritten envelope sitting on top, complete with vintage stamps, sold me on the lot. I would have paid to take home the boxes; but being family treasure, all I had to do was ask for them.

I realize that I’m teasing you, by not revealing the contents. The letters did not disappoint. Among them were some postcards, greeting cards, and a bunch of western union telegrams. But the bulk of the two boxes were handwritten letters tucked back into their original envelopes from the 1920s and 1930s. Some of them are from grandmother’s mother, but most of them are letters from former beaus. Interestingly enough there is little correspondence from grandfather. but perhaps those were in another box, lost in time. Certainly they are lost to us.

There is more to the story than just the rescue. The contents of the letters are intriguing. Perhaps the basis of a novel to come, or for some large relationship project. Certainly a glimpse into the past, and into the hearts of real people; that alone is treasure in itself.

I’ve decided to share one with you – this gem from Archer to Helen:

March 31 1930
(the last of the windy and uneasy month? -”it is a consummation devoutly to be wished”)

Helen,

I should have at least five hours in which to think out while writing what I have to say – but I have only 1 hour now.

To begin with I have lost my only real happiness. I have thought many hours consciously and unconsciously of all that has been going on while I basking here experiencing that most rare feeling of perfect faith – all during exams – while such was not the case. All that I’m going to say is not sham or pretense or hurt vanity or pure misery but facts coming straight from me to you.

The last time I left you home when we were together – so perfectly in harmony – so absolutely synchronized in mind and body – our hearts – we were at last together earnestly – truly a single unit. I felt that at last I had wholly conquered what ever doubts, questions, etc. that were left in your heart and above all I thought that I had made you feel that we were living – never to be apart. In other words I had built up in your heart an exalted and perfected ideal of perfect faith in me – i had established the same in my own . Evidently I had not because I have lost – completely that faith as it is as though after progressing through years of continual building toward a goal with all our hearts and thoughts – then suddenly the foundation is torn and all is gone – we are back years – almost like those people who must make conversations during silences for fear that the other will read their inmost thoughts.

Possibly that marvelous contentment that we had only made you feel dissatisfied in other words you were too sure – i don’t think that such is the case – because I don’t believe that you knowing how much you do about me could ever let your mind work that way. But if we had built up such a feeling and then a few words of entreaty can so sway you toward the unattained that the former seems non-exciting – then – then – what? I don’t know. My dear – there is a woman here who is older than I, physically attractive – her views the same as mine and she has often offered herself to me – no doubt in weak moments – but the glamor of such an affair is as a faint flicker in comparison to a beautiful day such as this but – I’m not tying to be small and very clever and indefinite but perhaps my idea is all wrong – but I don’t think it is and I don’t believe that you think so. The latter to me seems so childish and immature in comparison to what a great love can mean.

You know only too well my big weakness of imagining things until they are tremendously real and human. In other words just like a woman I must be reassured that my loved one is still in need of me every minute. I have tried to always make you know that I am yours – but you were not so sure when you talked to me. Being of an affectionate nature as you are and if you only listened to him as you said and were swayed then, if he should ardently take you in his arms and make love to you cleverly as you say he is and kiss you you a million times – it seems from all this that you would be completely captivated. You see when you first were with me you were doubtful but after being close to me and being loved then all your doubts vanished. If you are to see him every day and there is always a suspended air between you – that horrible uneasy feeling of the unattainable will – it can’t help it finally come to a head and break. Just as long as he believes himself to be in love with you and can’t have you, the situation will only strengthen his love and will fascinate you – it can’t help it. Such is human nature.

You know best but to face it frankly if you stay either the whole affair will become unbearable for you or else he’ll win you – in other words you either stay there and wait and hope that nothing will happen and it will or else you’ll leave and then the whole thing will die away and disappear. Suspense is a weapon that is deadly and he can use it to his advantage indefinitely until you are nearly crazy – because it is inpossible for you to be open to such a a thing without finding it at the least extremely exciting and hypnotic.

Everything I have said has not in the slightest way meant to offend you or your sense of the delicate, but a lot of my almost lecture is full of truths that every one of us try to ignore, including myself.

Naturally your mind will turn to that horrible thing that happened to you and me last Xmas – you know only too well how terribly I hurt you and it was just as bad when you said you wanted to kiss him – I ached hideously inside just as you must have. Ever since Xmas I’ve tried so hard to make you forget and grant me the forgiveness I’ve so terribly sincerely asked for so many times. My dear – you never even hinted that you were sorry to hurt me – what does that mean?

You’ll get this Tuesday night and I want you to sit down with this and answer everything in my letter – never mind phrasing or correct this and than just think & write it down.

You know most precious that you are my one goal & flame to live by – you know that I love you – such words are as nothing for I adore you, worship you as a thing afar to be reached only through constant thoughts of your dear self. Don’t tell me I have failed.

We are not the two children we were in may two years ago, for you are a woman and but then I am a man and without that perfect unshaken, never failing faith I can not exist. I must either go and forget what is nearly impossible or else I cannot help but rise to greater heights because of your great soul. And now I’m waiting.

Archer

Jul26

Things to do in the Lake Distict – Weather Not Permitting

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Things to do in the Lake Distict – Weather Not Permitting

View in the Lake District

A lovely view in the Lake District with Ominous Sky


We did not have the best of weather in the Lake District, but one of the nicest things on rainy days to head out to an indoor location and have plans for outdoor destinations nearby in case the weather breaks. Our 1st day out was a late start and rainy, so after a nice lunch of pan seared duck breast we headed out to the Lakes Aquarium. Hardly a destination, it provided just enough “outing” excitement to get us back on our feet after a weekend of relaxing. On the way back home we stopped at Booths in Windermere for essentials and non-essentials, finding some organic and artisan selections (and whole bean coffee) and headed for home.

Asian Eagle Owl

Asian Eagle Owl at Muncaster Castle


The next day gray skies and all we set off farther afield. The destination was Muncaster Castle which is on the coast. We chose the lower route to get there as it was a bit closer. The lunch spot on route, was Millstone Bakery Farm. Perhaps not the best choice, but a memorable one for the small erector set that was purchased at the toy barn and partially assembled at lunch. Muncaster Castle, home of the World Owl Trust, had lots of Rhododendrons in bloom, which made for a lovely walk up to the castle. We decided not to do the castle tour, and stick to owls. Gray skies threatened but we had no rain and managed to view about 1/2 of the owl pens before the 2:30p flying demonstration. Just 3 owls flying today. My favorite was the European Eagle Owl, but I got to hold the barn owl for just a minute, and that was fun. We tried the Meadow Vole Maze, but despite the effort put into it, it was appropriate for the under 5 and a disappointment.

Our Dinner choice was the 1 star Michelin restaurant at The Samling Hotel. While we didn’t find specific fault, it was a very pricey dinner and in my estimation did not please enough for the cost. This is a recurrent theme in fine dining in The Lake District, high prices do not equal food quality. If we had to choose again, it would be elsewhere.

The next day the plan was to try and find a trout farm to please our budding angler. We headed south and realized that prior to fishing we’d need a lunch spot. The Lakeland Motor Museum was close by and it had a cafe so we thought we’d have a quick go around and then lunch. It was a jewel of a museum, not too big, with a few interesting cars, a complete mini museum of the Bluebird racer and some info on the bluing mills which I found fascinating. The most unusual car was perhaps the amphibious one.

Amphibious Car

Amphibious Car

Lunch at Cafe Ambio was a pleasant surprise. The cafe has homemade touches and a nice view of the river.

Off to the trout farm, up a terrifyingly narrow road with a big car. We eventually found the “farm” but alas, you needed both a fishing rod and a license. Instead, we headed for a hike in Grizedale, trusting the crazy route the car’s navigation system plotted. I had high hopes of seeing the Andy Goldsworthy sculptures but after looking at the trail maps and the sky we chickened out and decided to go on an easier and shorter hike. After some pick me up ice cream we poured ourselves into the car and headed home.

Rainbow Trout

T's Catch at Esthwaite Water


Trent was very sad that we didn’t manage to go fishing, and just as we were discussing dinner options, we passed a “trout farm” sign. We turned around and went to check it out. The energy level rose to a high when we saw it had a hut and people fishing nearby. It was the Esthwaite Water, near Hawkshead. The stars must have been in alignment as after about 15 mins we were stocked with 2 rods (with reels!), live bait, floats and a fishing license (for me). A quick casting lesson (with follow-up from Jack) and a baiting 101 from Jack and we were all set. Just a bit of rain threatening. I could tell you the story of the one that got away… but the important part of the tale is that T caught us a 17″ lovely rainbow trout for dinner. Needless to say it was a much enjoyed fish feast when we arrived home (I baked the trout stuffed with thyme). Even I ate it. It turns out the impromptu farm was the largest stocked lake in the North of England. What Kismet.
Castlerigg

Castlerigg Stone Circle


Our last adventure day took us North to the Keswick area to visit the stone circle, Castlerigg. It’s out in a field, with sheep all around it, accessed by a country road. After our visit we headed into Keswick and found an unnotable lunch spot (note to self to not trust the Good Food Guide). Then the Cumberland Pencil Museum called to me, so we dropped in for a quick tour. The Lake District is famous for slate, but also for graphite and is still home to Derwent, maker of the pencils since 1832. I think I enjoyed the museum the most, but we all had fun looking at pencils in the shop. T picked our last stop – Trotters World of Animals. We completely drove by it the first pass, but found it coming back (it’s owned by a hotel and is tucked away behind it). Doesn’t sound like it would be much, but it has some interesting animals and birds, including an Asian River Cat and the best falconry/flying display we’ve been to, for the up close & personal experience.
Waterfall near Coniston

Waterfall near Coniston

On the way back to Coniston we stopped for a quick hike up to a nearby waterfall and then headed home to recoup before dinner.
First Course at L'Enclume

Asparagus Course at L'Enclume


A very long drive down to Cartmel, took us to our dinner destination: L’Enclume, the heralded restaurant. Very expensive and fussy, the food was interesting but not worth the huge effort required to get there. Some lovely presentations, and mindful creations, but a multi-course affair which after a long day, just didn’t have the glamor it might, on a leisurely day with a shorter drive.

All in all, unless it’s steadily pouring (and then indoor adventures may be the best option), gray days often have breaks where you can tuck in some outdoor excursion between indoor ones. My advice is to head out with a bunch of potential destinations. Where you end up will be part of the adventure.

Our next destination: Along the Wall…