Tomorrow I'm going shopping for fabric in the garment district.
Tsia needs a new winter coat, and I'm planning to make a her warm School Days Coat next month. Since I'm going to be in the neighborhood anyway, I'll be shopping for her too. I'm guessing that I'll be able to find her a great wool-cashmere coating at Mood. (Because for the less than the price of a nice wool at B&J, I can probably find a cashmere blend at Mood. And darn that because I like B&J so much better!)
Anyway, this was my exchange with Tsia tonight as she was lying in bed:
Liesl: "What color fabric would you like me to buy for your new winter coat?"
Tsia: "Blue and pink."
Liesl: "OK, but it can only be one color, so which do you prefer?"
Tsia (under her breath): "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe...." (Out loud.) Blue. Silk!"
Liesl: "Well, since it's a coat, I think it needs to be wool. So I'll look for some blue wool, OK?"
Tsia: "OK, but can I have a matching tissue?" (Meaning, a matching handkerchief.)
Liesl: "OK, I can probably do that." (Thinking "OK, I'll use something with pink for the lining and make a handkerchief out of that." I can't imagine a wool handkerchief would be very pleasant.)
I guess that silk Jump Rope Dress made an impression. Anyway, here comes a blue wool coat.
And I keep meaning to tell you that CraftSanity posted a podcast interview with me the other day. Todd tells me that anyone who has listened to the news in the last year now understands what a hedge fund is, so my apologies for dumbing down the explanation of what George Soros was doing in the 1990s.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
loose connections
My apologies if you and I have been in a discussion at any point during the past few weeks and I've managed to work into our conversation some art trivia, travel factoid, bicycle particulars, or bizarre animal minutiae. You see, I've been obsessed with reading David Byrne's Bicycle Diaries, which is a really fascinating collection of observations and stories, loosely held together by Byrne's penchant for moving around cities on a bicycle, which he often takes along when he travels.
The books starts out with a short history of American cities and how they've been changed as highways have broken them apart and cars have become increasing important in our culture. He makes some very compelling arguments in favor of in bicycling in New York, as well as in other cities. I fear, however, that all his talk about conservation and downsizing are preaching mostly to the converted, since it's a rather self-selecting group that's likely to read the book in the first place, isn't it? (We know who we are....) But the book has pushed me one step further toward attempting to commute to our studio in Brooklyn on a bike. The only things stopping me are the lack of a bike and a place to store it. I'm sure I'll work out those minor details, however, given a little time.
Anyway, I somehow managed to discuss the lyrebird, dogs addicted to licking cane toads, and Cindy Sherman (Byrne's companion who, by the way, rides away from a Chelsea gallery at the end of her segment on last week's episode of Art21 on a fold-up bike) with several different people who stopped by our booth at Quilt Market. So if you wanted to discuss fabric and sewing patterns and learned instead about Imelda Marcos' childhood, I blame it all on Mr. Byrne.
On the other hand, isn't this video clip of the lyrebird (from the BBC series, The Life of Birds) fascinating? I couldn't believe it until I in watched it several times. I'm not sure which sound is best: the camera shutter or the chainsaw.
And speaking of Quilt Market, we managed to sneak away before the show started to visit The Menil Collection. I was most looking forward to the Rothko Chapel, but it was the Cy Twombly gallery that really amazed us both. (Sorry that photos aren't allowed inside the collection--these were all I got.) I think it will become an annual tradition to visit before Market every fall. In fact, next spring's Market will be held in Minneapolis, and I'm already trying to convince Todd to give a little tour of The Walker Art Center to anyone who wants to join us.
As it turns out, the bike exhibition at the Aldrich Museum is directly connected to Mr. Byrne and his book. Little did I realize this when I picked up the book at the library before we left for Houston, but that night Todd returned home from his visit and explained the connection to me. Here are a few shots of our favorite bike in its temporary home there.
Also speaking of the Aldrich and bikes (are you feeling the frenetic title of this post yet? Some of these transitions are dicey. Sorry.) we wanted to take a workshop as a family project this spring to make Tsia a bamboo bike. Only problem: they don't have kids' sizes yet. Oh, and the cost is $1200 to take the workshop. Maybe a little pricey for a bike she would outgrow in one or two years, yes?
Hmm, I wonder how that bike would like to travel back and forth over the Williamsburg Bridge with me every day instead?
The books starts out with a short history of American cities and how they've been changed as highways have broken them apart and cars have become increasing important in our culture. He makes some very compelling arguments in favor of in bicycling in New York, as well as in other cities. I fear, however, that all his talk about conservation and downsizing are preaching mostly to the converted, since it's a rather self-selecting group that's likely to read the book in the first place, isn't it? (We know who we are....) But the book has pushed me one step further toward attempting to commute to our studio in Brooklyn on a bike. The only things stopping me are the lack of a bike and a place to store it. I'm sure I'll work out those minor details, however, given a little time.
Anyway, I somehow managed to discuss the lyrebird, dogs addicted to licking cane toads, and Cindy Sherman (Byrne's companion who, by the way, rides away from a Chelsea gallery at the end of her segment on last week's episode of Art21 on a fold-up bike) with several different people who stopped by our booth at Quilt Market. So if you wanted to discuss fabric and sewing patterns and learned instead about Imelda Marcos' childhood, I blame it all on Mr. Byrne.
On the other hand, isn't this video clip of the lyrebird (from the BBC series, The Life of Birds) fascinating? I couldn't believe it until I in watched it several times. I'm not sure which sound is best: the camera shutter or the chainsaw.
And speaking of Quilt Market, we managed to sneak away before the show started to visit The Menil Collection. I was most looking forward to the Rothko Chapel, but it was the Cy Twombly gallery that really amazed us both. (Sorry that photos aren't allowed inside the collection--these were all I got.) I think it will become an annual tradition to visit before Market every fall. In fact, next spring's Market will be held in Minneapolis, and I'm already trying to convince Todd to give a little tour of The Walker Art Center to anyone who wants to join us.
As it turns out, the bike exhibition at the Aldrich Museum is directly connected to Mr. Byrne and his book. Little did I realize this when I picked up the book at the library before we left for Houston, but that night Todd returned home from his visit and explained the connection to me. Here are a few shots of our favorite bike in its temporary home there.
Also speaking of the Aldrich and bikes (are you feeling the frenetic title of this post yet? Some of these transitions are dicey. Sorry.) we wanted to take a workshop as a family project this spring to make Tsia a bamboo bike. Only problem: they don't have kids' sizes yet. Oh, and the cost is $1200 to take the workshop. Maybe a little pricey for a bike she would outgrow in one or two years, yes?
Hmm, I wonder how that bike would like to travel back and forth over the Williamsburg Bridge with me every day instead?
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
scrappy
We dragged two large sacks filled with fabric scraps to Tsia's school during the first week. School budgets are incredibly tight around here, and her school seems to do a really good job of utilizing the resources they have. I knew they would appreciate the cuttings that have been accumulating at the studio over the last couple of years.
Sure enough, just a few days later the children had stenciled leaves on muslin with brightly colored paints. And the next thing I knew, I had been sent home with a little assignment: the teacher requested a quilt made from the children's art. What could I say? It may be my busiest month of the year, but you can't say no when the teacher gives you homework, can you?
I decided to use the materials I had on hand to finish the quilt, and the process felt a little Gee's Bend, which was fun. I arranged the painted fabric pieces so they complimented each other and then gradually added strips of colored fabrics to join them. My favorite part is the bits of Denyse Schmidt's County Fair collection that I think keep the quilt from looking too predictable (although I would have added more pieces of those fabrics if I had them--didn't keep enough of the scraps for myself, I guess). The back is made from a piece of Michael Miller organic herringbone check with no batting between the layers since the herringbone is soft and thick, like a light-weight blanket.
Tsia kept me company on Saturday when I did most of the work on the quilt. We had two leftover leaves that were printed on very small scraps, so those leaves were appliqued to the finished quilt. Since it can't be washed (I'm fairly certain it would ruin the paint, since it's probably not fabric paint), I just fused the leaves to the quilt top and stitched them in place with a running stitch, leaving the raw edges showing. I had some helpers when we delivered the quilt to the classroom, and they love it!
Sure enough, just a few days later the children had stenciled leaves on muslin with brightly colored paints. And the next thing I knew, I had been sent home with a little assignment: the teacher requested a quilt made from the children's art. What could I say? It may be my busiest month of the year, but you can't say no when the teacher gives you homework, can you?
I decided to use the materials I had on hand to finish the quilt, and the process felt a little Gee's Bend, which was fun. I arranged the painted fabric pieces so they complimented each other and then gradually added strips of colored fabrics to join them. My favorite part is the bits of Denyse Schmidt's County Fair collection that I think keep the quilt from looking too predictable (although I would have added more pieces of those fabrics if I had them--didn't keep enough of the scraps for myself, I guess). The back is made from a piece of Michael Miller organic herringbone check with no batting between the layers since the herringbone is soft and thick, like a light-weight blanket.
Tsia kept me company on Saturday when I did most of the work on the quilt. We had two leftover leaves that were printed on very small scraps, so those leaves were appliqued to the finished quilt. Since it can't be washed (I'm fairly certain it would ruin the paint, since it's probably not fabric paint), I just fused the leaves to the quilt top and stitched them in place with a running stitch, leaving the raw edges showing. I had some helpers when we delivered the quilt to the classroom, and they love it!
Thursday, October 01, 2009
and speaking of bikes...
...guess where our beloved green house bike has gone!
It's been transplanted to the Aldrich Museum's Bike Rides exhibition. Todd will get a chance to visit it tomorrow, so I'll ask him to say hi and maybe offer it a little plant food treat or something.
And by the way, how is it October already? This can't be!
It's been transplanted to the Aldrich Museum's Bike Rides exhibition. Todd will get a chance to visit it tomorrow, so I'll ask him to say hi and maybe offer it a little plant food treat or something.
And by the way, how is it October already? This can't be!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)