True Confessions Tuesday

I did not read one single book in the whole year of 2011.

Oh sure, I read stuff. Magazines, poached bits and pieces of books at B&N, textbooks, odds and ends...but no entire fiction or nonfiction book.

I couldn't. I read FOUR whole books in 2010.

It's not that I don't like to read. I love a well-written piece of literature, but reading just seems so unproductive and indulgent.

Hello December

http://www.melanietesta.com/mtype/archives/2011/11/rockstar-boro.html


I'm doing this stitch-along on a thifted black blazer.


What Rockstar Means to Me:
black
sequins
glitter
skulls
hearts
wings
excess
animal print
crosses
roses
ruffles
refusing to take "no" for an answer

http://www.flickr.com/photos/debbicrane/6430509683/

Sugar Skulls Coloring Sheet

C:\Documents and Settings\admin\Local Settings\Temporary Internet Files\Content.MSO\WordWebPagePreview\ACF278EC.mht

Thirty-six

The granny square count now stands at thirty-six. If this were going to be a baby afghan, I could stop right now and start putting them together, but it's not for a baby; it's for me, so onward.
I must finish it it. The importance of finishing what I begin became very clear to me a few weeks ago. It occurred to me that if I don't finish a project, it's totally disrespectful to the money I spent on the materials, the hours invested up to the stopping point ( time I could have spent doing something for somebody else) and the materials themselves. A big pile of unfinished work seems very selfish to me.

Tomorrow, we move Whitley to school. I feel fine about it. Really. I'm not worried or freaking out at all. People keep asking me if I'm okay. And I say yes. Because I keep thinking of all the parents who have lost kids from illness or accident or Some Other Bad Thing and think those moms would give anything under the sun to be taking their kids to college, but they were robbed. It would be totally selfish of me to not embrace this experience. Whit is smart and talented and college is where she belongs. I'm not going to wreck it for her by being upset.

With a pin stuck in her heart

This is not a voo-doo doll, unless you want it to be. It's a little embroidered ragdoll I made right after I got home from the aforementioned embroidery class. I HAD to ( for reasons that shall remain a mystery) make a doll as soon as I could. This only took minutes here and there over a couple of days and gave me the idea for a bigger doll, perhaps a series of dolls, that I'm working on now. After I finished her, I stuck my needle in her head. Later, I was cutting out some pattern pieces and I stuck my pins in her just because she was handy. Maybe it's Good Stitching Voo-doo. Her name is Flossie Junior.

Today the oldest baby bird turns nineteen. She asked for a carrot cake. Here it is. She officially leaves the nest Sunday.

Here are my thirty-two grannies, not in afghan order, just laid down together, out in the sun for a preview. I think eight squares by ten squares will make a good sized throw. As I work, my squares are getting so much better. I can't believe I lived so long without knowing how to crochet.

More on Stitching

This sampler, 12" x 12", was made in my class at Arrowmont week before last. It folds into a little book. It was my big project for the week. The assignment had to do with memory and prophecy. All the numbers and symbols in this piece have particular significance to me; funny because I never make things with much personal meaning. I've always thought that I purposely avoid telling much about myself in my work because everybody has their own issues - many much worse than mine - and my stories really aren't that interesting or tragic or important. I am beginning to think, however, that I haven't told my stories because I want to avoid them. I want to avoid what I think and believe to be true about myself. It's too painful.
Perhaps it's time to be truthful, even if it sounds silly to you. Good work, transcendent work is always that - truthful. I have not been producing good work lately because I haven't told the whole truth. I do want to make good work, above all. Struggling at the moment with making Art and making stuff, like crochet and clothes. I can't seem to marry the two. They aren't even dating at this point.
This little sampler is not a sampler in the traditional sense of learning and mastering stitches. It's a sampler of my beliefs and stories I tell myself about me and my life. It looks whimsical, doesn't it? A person-who-was-not-in-my-class remarked to me that she could make a book like that for her grandson. It's not a toy. It's more like a charm, like physical representations of superstitions or something like that. I used 6 strands of DMC on most things, so it's very tactile, especially the 6 and 7. Anyway, I've been home from Arrowmont two weeks and remain utterly vexed by the stitch.

I have begun a doll, aptly named Flossie, covered entirely in embroidery. The granny sqaure count is at 27. I would like it to be 30 by days end. We shall see. I also MUST make a new calender/planner book for myself for the coming school year.

On film...

"Write it all down. Just the truth. No rhymes, no embellishments, no adjectives. "

This line, in a nutshell, is why Atonement is a good film.

The first time we hear it, it is spoken by Robbie, in the apartment with Cecelia, where Nursegirl Briony has found them. Briony has realized the extreme error of her ways and wishes to correct the wrong as best she can.

The last time we hear it, it is spoken by Elderly Briony...by the time you realize you have heard those exact words earlier in the film and who spoke them...you begin to reel toward the conclusion that Briony too soon divulges. And you know what she is going to say before she says it.