Big Fat Art Cloth

upcycling

2012-02-13T10:29:00.000-05:00

Remember these Gatorade containers? I found these at a restaurant in the Everglades.

I think they come in pink and green too. You could probably use Tang containers. Do they still make Tang?

small town

2012-01-31T12:10:00.000-05:00

In some respects, life is moving slowly now. Now that the walls in the front room have been smoothed and painted a lovely Parisian blue, we are finally ready to complete the kitchen. I love having a civilized place to sip my coffee in the morning. I can't wait to have a modern stove and to have a dishwasher again. I can't wait to not look at drywall and old peeling linoleum flooring everyday. I realize I am going to have to look at more construction when we complete the Florida room this summer and build up into the attic but, for now, just a modern kitchen please.

The dogs have been hanging out on the futon in the art room all winter. This is Cocoa Dulce in her regular routine. We lost our little senior-ita Moochie a couple weeks ago. Our Boston Terrier was the sweetest little girl. We were so sad to see her go. We knew she was very old for a Boston, but we weren't ready to say goodbye. My fear was that she would pass while Russ was away in Kenya, so I am grateful that he got to say goodbye.

I did a good job of not overbooking myself this winter. I hate it when I do that. February comes and all I want to do is curl up like Cocoa but instead I have to scurry back and forth from one obligation to another - - of my own doing. I should be done with my speaking engagements and art workshops by the end of April, at least for now. Of course, somewhere in there I will be planting my tomato seedlings. Here's last year's seedlings, well some of them anyway. I always say I'm going to plant less and I never do. Overplanting is one of my vices - if you can consider overplanting a vice at all. I am dying to plant my carrots this year. I'm shooting for purple, orange-red, and yellow carrots. I bought some carrots at the store a few weeks ago and they tasted soapy to me. Have carrots ever tasted soapy to you? It was weird. I bought some organic carrots last week and they tasted better. I keep thinking, oh no, I'm going to become a carrot snob too, along with corn, tomatoes, and fresh eggs. I just can't take some of the things they sell in the supermarket anymore. I'm serious about this. Going out to eat has become more rare too because, you know the saying, if it's not at least ten times better than eating at home then don't do it? Well, it's usually not so we opt out.

The big news on my part is that after I complete a series of obligations ending in April, I am opting out of teaching and other engagements, at least for the summer, in order to work on my art (and of course get thoroughly distracted by my veggie patch). It's been a long time coming. Russ has been up my ass about it. I've always been one to do nothing with my art and then work like crazy for months straight, but this hiatus has been too long. I've decided to throw out a LOT of what I've been working on, let go of some ideas that I had, and start over. I'm starting fresh. I'll be back and forth from Chicago more this year and I'm looking forward to it. Chicago is a great influence on me, my first crush on a bustling city, dates with the city, unexpected Mies van der Rohe lobbies - oh, and friends. That's right, I used to have a social life. It amazes me that even in Kentucky I still continue to meet new people in Chicago and keep my self going up there. Then when I'm back in the bluegrass I'm so much more solitary than I ever thought I would be, which is good for my studio art work, and also for continuing to get through my reading list (currently reading A Prayer for Owen Meany). And it's nice not to read for purely intellectual reasons too (take that University of Chicago).

K. Crane. 2009. Silk screen and stitching on upcycled cloth.

Pin It

But honestly, the most pressing question about small town life I have at the moment is why the trash truck only takes our trash sporadically. I never thought about this before. In Chicago, I threw the trash in the bin off of the alley at Waveland and at some point and time in the universe a truck picked up the dumpster and took it away. Here, there are special trash days and we have to haul the trash to the curb. Russ usually does this but he's out of the country so it's me. One day they took the trash. One day they didn't. I can find no reasoning behind this. In autumn, we became aware that there was some sort of leaf-sucking event going on. Everyone would put piles of leaves at the street and a truck came around and sucked them up. We compost most of ours but were interested in how everyone knew about this. Last night after I got home late (really late) from the hospital I took matters in to my own hands and schlepped the trash bag down to the curb and set it next to my neighbor's trash. We live next door to the mayor so I figure of course they'll pick up the mayor's trash. I'm sure this has nothing to do with it at all but that was my reasoning. They took all the trash this morning while I slept. I know there is a logical reason behind trash pickup in a small town. At first I thought it was because no one lived in our old rundown farmhouse for so long they figured it wasn't really anyone's trash. Then I thought I had the wrong day. We recycle ten times more than we put out to trash. In fact, we put one scraggly bag of trash out every third or fourth pickup. So my last thought is that maybe it doesn't look like real trash, just the idea of trash. I know, I'm problematizing the trash pickup. My latest grand idea is that I just take the trash bag down the hill and leave it there. Since we compost and recycle everything anyway there's nothing in it for the dogs to get. I don't schlep the trash down with the trash can either. Then I have to lug the can back up the hill. And that just doesn't feel practical to me.

january 23rd

2012-01-23T09:20:00.000-05:00

on the other hand, my indoor herb garden is thriving. inconveniently taking over one corner of the kitchen where there ultimately will be a doorway leading up to the attic (with a pantry under the stairs, can't wait).

yesterday when I was meditating I felt like I could hear the thyme growing. I think I'm getting pretty good at meditation. I'm up to 20 minutes each morning. It's such a clearing away for me. I can do things like stop being around people who suck my energy and put up blog posts that aren't one hundred percent grammatically correct - both major feats for me.

the meditation is after the french-pressed coffee, of course.

january 20

2012-01-20T15:24:00.000-05:00

I managed to make two sock monkeys to donate to the local art center's annual fundraiser. I hope they get some bids. The belly button was Russ' idea.

It's dreary in the bluegrass now. Russ said he is going to light this bonfire when he gets back from Kenya at the end of the month. I suppose I am grateful that we can even light a bonfire at january's end because we sure could not do that in Chicago. I guess we really couldn't just light things on fire in the middle of Wrigleyville either, but you know what I mean. When we lived at Waveland (in Wrigleyville), we were known to be out on the deck firing up the grill with my sister and brother in law well in to November. I can't wait to grill some pizzas again. If the spirit moves me I may roast some marshmallows on this fire. I guess I better put that on the grocery list - if I can find it. My desk is a mess. It's as if I never spent an entire day in December getting it all tidy. I thought about making it tidy and staging it for you but then I thought, why not just keep it real? This is what the left side looks like, complete with a pair of kick-ass black wool pants I scored at a resale shop for next to nothing, partially hemmed by me (I just have to finish hemming the lining and that's easy). I love deconstructing clothing and I really love the upcycling aspect of it. I would show you the right side of the desk but there's a pathetic Christmas cactus on it that has not bloomed in two years and I thought that this would be a depressing thing to share, expecially this time of year. You understand.

I know. It's a mess. Here, look at another photo of a sock monkey. Here you go. Be happy.

Process over Product

2012-01-03T12:12:00.002-05:00

Remember that video game where you click on a square and it opens up more squares around it? That is essentially what has happened to the state of my practice and Big Fat Art Cloth over the last four months. The trick of the game was to pick a square that would expand as many squares as possible. Somewhere in the universe this year I picked a good square, and as a result I have been working hard to get things in to place so that I can accept this turn of fate.

Looking back over my blog for the past year, I realize I have spent more time writing about my garden and our effort to live sustainably and less time showing you printed textiles and oil bar with wax drawings. I have certainly spent less time discussing art therapy and theatre-of-mind topics. I've decided that I will make an effort to post more prints and have had requests to post more about the practice of printing, maybe even offering a workshop online that I've honed over the years called Pursuit of Your Image. What do you think?

I've also agreed to write more about my practice as an art therapist. I can not post art by participants due to federal confidentiality laws unless I get a consent, so we'll see, although I already have consent to show you some things from the files. Anything I post is of course done with consent, or is my own reactive artwork, otherwise I wouldn't dare post it for ethical reasons (HIPPA laws aside).

But I must talk about my garden again. After I was accused of holding out on posting art over Christmas ale, of which I admit to having my share this season, I realized how much the textures, and colors, and just the whole process of growing something effect my artwork. I've never overtly stated that on my blog. When I did some of my earliest training in art therapy at a womens' day shelter in a part of Chicago that is a little rough around the edges, I realized early on how important the process of making art is in healing. That is to say, I came to understand that many of the women needed the process of watching something come to fruition more than the product of the art itself.

This is why using clay is a great medium for art therapy. The clay keeps you coming back. First you must work it, then you must watch it and tend to it as it dries to a certain consistency, next there is glazing, firing in the kiln, and finally after waiting for the kiln to cool, there is a final product. There is always anticipation on how the piece may turn out as we are not master potters, and the often cracked or disappointing piece makes us realize that we have to get back to the clay table and try again. You have to keep trying. The bowls posted here were created by me, by hand, and while they are not artshow-worthy, they represent hours and hours of sitting at the clay table processing the scary experience of homelessness with the women. These imperfect bowls represent the women at the shelter - and myself - continuing to click on little squares out there in the universe with the hope of expanding our opportunities and our lives.

what we have

2011-11-28T15:56:00.002-05:00

We have broccoli.

Lettuce.

And, although it seems a little random right now, dill.

And my art studio is a complete and total mess, although my recent sock monkey workshop at the University of Louisville was loads of fun.

blue

2011-11-22T11:53:00.000-05:00

I've been collecting blue glass for about 20 years now. Something about the way the light glows out of the blue really speaks to my soul and makes sense. Plus I've already shared how addicted I am to blue. I really love the way it glows on grey days. It shows me that there's still something there to appreciate, some energy and beauty to be had.

Is it just me, or do you see the shadow of an old timey Santa with a walking staff in the bottle? I concede I may have spent too much time in the holiday section of the craft store yesterday. I started collecting vintage Santas three years ago. I figure, you can't hoard them the way you can beads, buttons, and blue glass. I could be wrong.

More Upcycling

2011-11-17T11:38:00.000-05:00

I know I've gone on about my love of the family size Nutella jar.

But I'm currently having an affair with upcycled rich, chocolately Ovaltine containers too.

Follow Your Heart

2011-11-11T11:30:00.000-05:00

Four of my gourds and a teeny tiny Eiffel Tower, a gift from my beloved brother-in-law, who got to see Paris before he passed. A beautiful reminder that you've got one incredible life to live so focus on what inspires you.

monday

2011-11-07T17:30:00.001-05:00

the natural afternoon light was in the room when i finally arranged some things on the mantle. i think i've finally made a decision although i may sleep on it one more night.

The Flight of the Soul

2011-11-04T13:06:00.000-04:00

It was a beautiful day and evening at the old Episcopal cemetery in Lexington, Kentucky where myself and another fiber artist participated in the Dia de los Muertos festival with the Living Arts & Science Center by constructing an interactive altar. The cemetery came alive as local artists showed up to create altars and celebrate the deceased.

back entrance to the cemetery looking toward the caretaker's cottage

our grave site, adjacent to the caretaker's cottage, surrounded by wrought iron

our installation site adjacent to the caretaker's cottage

I created a small murder of crows for our site, a family plot belonging to the Clay family. I am pleased with my crows, although I still need to tweak the shape I think. I didn't realize how close in dimension a crow is to a bird of prey until I started studying them. I'm hoping to have a larger "crow funeral" next year.

The theme of our altar was Bury Your Regrets. Fiber artist Mary Nehring, and I paired up this year and had participants write down regrets on strips of fabric and hang them on a line of twisted twine. Some were light hearted and a few were profound. Visitors responded with a lot of interest toward our interactive altar.

day shot

festive tissue flowers by artist Mary Nehring

Over at the Living Arts & Science Center there was a great display of alebrijes, these fantastical creatures. In the library gallery was another thought-filled show by Ann Leader and Dr. Carol Freid about immigration, migration, and the movement of their ancestors across time and space as narrated visually by placing cherished objects in little trunks. The hatbox sized trunks are opened so that you can peer into them and get glimpses of their ancestors' life at that moment in time. I'm in love with the premise of the journey and the trunks and the juxtaposition of sentimental objects. I'm sorry I did not get permission to photograph their intimate pieces. You can see lots and lots of photos of the entire event on the Living Arts & Science Center's facebook page however.

photo from LASC. go to facebook and friend them!

The theme of this year's Dia de los Muertos is Flight of the Soul, using the life cycle of the monarch butterfly as its metaphor. As you approach the cemetery there are hundreds of monarch butterflies, handmade by all the kiddos at the local schools, attached to the wrought iron fence. They have so much movement and color. When I drove by earlier in the day just for a split second it looked like all of these butterflies had landed for our festival. Click here to read more about this and see some photos.

Elaine Quave and Steven Littrell from LASC filling and lighting tiki torches. I'm not that great with photography so trust me they're our there somewhere filling tiki torches.

the children's day procession from the painted labyrinth on the adjacent lot where the community gardens are located

Later, at dusk, another candle lit procession came over from the Living Arts & Science Center after everyone had Mexican hot chocolate and food from a local Hispanic vendor. It was so delicious. I didn't get photos of the candle lit procession because I was busy lighting all of our own candles.

Artist Elaine Quave at her altar in the caretaker's cottage

natural materials at Elaine's altar

Artist Elaine Quave, who curated the Flight of the Soul at LASC, constructed an altar out of natural materials inside the caretaker's cottage.

Other altars used natural materials too. The "monkey brains", or Osage oranges, were falling from the trees in the cemetery.

I appreciated how people honored their relationships. This was probably one of the most unique altars. It's an antique tea party, complete with a candelabra. I never could find out who did it to give them credit, but if you did it and you're reading this blog please let me know. It was so beautiful and I was moved by it. As night fell, I kept looking over there, expecting to see a wisp of ghostly ladies having tea. There was also a traditional Dia de los Muertos altar put up by a Hispanic family. It had photos of their deceased loved ones, including pets. It had sweets and bright Mexican sodas and tissue paper and Mexican candles. It was fantastic. I didn't take a photo because I heard that it is disrespectful to take photos of photos of the deceased. I wasn't sure if this was true. I figured I'd rather be respectful than snap a photo and all of a sudden have the music stop and everyone stop talking and then some black shadowed ghosts rise up from the ground and disintegrate me right there in front of everyone. I guess I'm superstitious and have social anxiety that way.

regrets hanging on the line

I love how this shot came out. The regrets look like ghosts. I was reminded of the statement I read inside LASC about the soul that returns on one night, to constellate around the living, and to be remembered.

artists and friends Steven Littrell, Elaine Quave, and Mary Nehring

There were over 750 people at the center and who came through the cemetery. If you click on the links I provided to LASC there are lots and lots of photos of the children, families, and even the dancers. If you missed it this year, I hope you will come next year. You can come by our installation and write down your regret that you missed such a kick-ass event this year.

october 2011

2011-10-24T13:13:00.002-04:00

I love the Indian summers in the bluegrass.

Goodbye for now, pink dogwood, see you in March.

The jaguar marigolds are an experiment. I wish they would have bloomed and filled out like this back in August.

Even the old fashioned marigolds are popping. I needed them to attract good insects for my tomatoes late last summer but I guess my sunflowers choked them out. Now that the sunflowers are gone there's plenty of room for them. Next year I am moving the sunflowers and planting more varieties too. That bird bath is some sort of old iron pulley that you might wrap rope around. Russ found it in the pole barn. We turned it on its side and spray painted the outside white and the concave top light blue.

The lettuce and broccoli are doing well and I'm thinking about sticking some carrots in there.

We dug a firepit, opened some local wine, and had a bonfire.

We also have another experiment. We collected these black walnuts and are going to go through the hassle of hulling them in order to have a walnut stash. This is only a fraction of the black walnuts we could have collected as the entire south edge of our property is lined with walnut trees.

When I slept with the windows open a few weeks back I could hear the thunk and thud of black walnuts dropping from the trees all night, then rain. After a particularly windy and stormy night it seems as though they all fell down. It's hard to walk back there. Russ seems to think we'll actually have walnuts. Just like the pickles, I remain skeptical. The raw walnuts are such a mess. We also have two huge trees that line what used to be the back road out of the property. The road is grassed over and gone and we have a subdivision of Mcmansions back there where a horse farm used to be. Our friend identified the two huge trees as English walnut, although I haven't seen any walnuts on it.

These are the last of our pickling cucumbers for the year. It's sad.

I made some apple butter in the crock pot over the weekend. I used golden delicious apples. Click here for the recipe I used and to see a really cute blog that I am now following. She's got those cute vintage labels on her apple butter like I was considering for my pickles so I was excited to see how great they look.

Our neighbor Tony, the one who grows rows and rows of beautiful peppers, came over on Sunday and helped Russ finish painting the gables in the Thunderstorm color. I was glad to be able to offer him some homemade apple butter, and both he and Robbi were excited to have some.

my new relationship with cucumbers

2011-10-13T15:56:00.002-04:00

I am in fact not done harvesting. I had to turn down offers from friends to accept the last of their bumper crop of tomatoes. It killed me. I simply don't have any room left in my freezer for any more tomato sauce, roasted tomatoes, or fresh corn. Darn.

I found this milk glass stand in the attic. Is it a fruit bowl?

In the meantime, my tomatoes are still turning although the blooms seem to have stopped. My eggplant still has blooms all over it however. I've made curried eggplant, babaganoush, stir fried eggplant. sheesh. And now I'm giving it away. I'm also open to any good eggplant recipes. Late summer eggplant has become my early summer squash. My peppers never did really take off the way I wanted them too. I don't know what my neighbor Tony does but his kick ass and I have a lot of respect for his pepper-growin'.

Inspired by Tony's pickled peppers, Russ decided that we would start making our own pickles. I have to admit that I did not support him in the beginning. I thought they would be slimy and plain. They are not. They are crisp and delicious and now we are talking about making jars and jars of them next summer. This summer we made dill and sweet. I got to the point where I would make a toasted pimiento cheese sandwich with pickles on it (when I wasn't busy eating BLT's that is). Was it overkill to research how to make vintage labels to give pickles as gifts? Would you find me eccentric if I gave you a jar of homemade pickles on your birthday or something?

So here's what I know about pickle makin'. You need to pull the cucumbers way way way sooner than if you were going to let them grow for cutting up in salads. If you don't, your pickles will be too seedy. No one likes a seedy pickle. Also, I learned that making a pickle brine is super easy. Click here to get a recipe from Vegetarian Times that I really like.

We've already tilled and fenced two larger 12'x12' veggie patches for next year so that we can make more pickles and grow cinderella pumpkins. Also, we are going to over plant by a third so that we can donate to Simple Harvest. There really are people out there struggling to make ends meet and to put food on their table. We don't personally have a lot of extra cash to donate right now but we feel strongly that giving is the right thing to do. Don't worry if you are a friend or neighbor that I usually give veggies to - there will still be extra for trading and being neighborly.

I can't wait until the seeds go on sale at the Rural King next February. I can't wait to see what different types of cucumbers we will now grow. It's so exciting. I keep thinking about it while I'm in my art studio sculpting these birds out of crushed velvet for the upcoming installation. I'm happy with the way my design came out and I'll post pics as soon as I get one completed.

My kitchen window in October.

the harvesting rush is over

2011-10-03T14:59:00.001-04:00

September was a blur for me. We visited one of our favorite local wineries for my birthday.

barn kitty

country road. you're home.

Then I crocheted a hat for myself. I upcycled some yarn fragments. I probably should have used a pattern but I did not. In retrospect I wish I had made the crocheted rose bigger. It was fun to do.

Before I rush into fall I want to make sure I thank everyone who commented on my garden. It was great fun connecting with people over my love of tomatoes. This year's experiments were good. The eggplant is still coming off the plant and I got a couple of crafter's gourds to dry but not as many as I had hoped. I think I waited too long to go to the Feed & Seed to get hay to put under them. There's always next year, which I am already planning.

Next year I am planting Cinderella pumpkins in a newly tilled and fenced garden patch. I also have fennel and carrots on the plan. I can't wait.

hillside-orchard.com

I just finished roasting the last of the tomatoes. I have a freezer full of tomato sauce and roasted tomatoes right now. I think I need to get a little freezer chest quite frankly.

last pick of the season

I sold some of my oilbar and wax drawings and now am moving forward with more vim and vigor. It is nice to get a little validation through some sales, isn't it? I had to spend the week doing my best to clear my schedule to allow more studio time. We are going into the busy season at the psych hospital so there is a lot more opportunity to work there too. I always feel torn between my art work and my psych work however I'm seasoned enough to realize that, for me, one fuels the other. I love the people I work with at the hospital but I cherish my private studio time too. I guess I am lucky that I've built a life around that dichotomy although it always feels like I should somehow be doing more.

K. Crane. Oilbar and wax. Work in progress, 2011.

I struggle with sharing what I'm working on and every print I'm burning on the blog. The reason for this is that I find myself uncomfortable with the way blogging makes me feel like I need to brand myself. Putting a witty quip after my title or designing a lifeway on the blog feels too hard sell for me. I enjoy working with people as they are self-actualizing and it doesn't feel true to me to present an "artsy" facade. Nor does it feel true, to me, to over-intellectualize all of it. So I'm not doing that. The art therapist in me has decided to keep it messy, the way real life is, and continue to utilize art as a way of knowing. I'll keep coming back to this topic and would love to hear from you too.

K. Crane

I can tell you I am starting to sew on to my oilbar and wax drawings and am pleased with the results. I am also working on a series of prints that focus on carousels. My Pinterest board is certainly assisting me with this although I must confess I am addicted to Pinterest. Absolutely love it. I have a large, open filing system on my big 'ol bankers desk with all of these folders of images so I love the fact that I have that same thing electronically with Pinterest. I'm still too old school to completely purge my paper files. Plus, I may need them if I ever do another vision board workshop, right?

I spent the day designing a pattern for some 3-dimensional crows I'm creating for a Dia de los Muertos installation here in Lexington at the end of the month. I'm pleased with the patterns. Now I'm off to cut and sew. It throws me back to my days of making sculptures with found objects and fantastical objects I scored from Uncle Fun (in Chicago). I promise I'll post pics of the crows - and of the newest oilbar and waxers - as I get it together.

sewing on paper

2011-09-26T13:38:00.001-04:00

Big Fat Art Cloth 2011

I wanted to do something special for her.

Big Fat Art Cloth 2011

So I embroidered one of my favorite poems on to cold press watercolor paper to be included in her farewell gift. Other artists made collages that were lovely.

Big Fat Art Cloth 2011

All of the the stitching was quite meditative. The repetitive motion spoke to my sensibility as an art therapist.

yellow door

2011-09-14T12:30:00.004-04:00

He painted the front door yellow, for me, for my birthday, just because I said I really wanted a yellow door.

Then later he started to paint the house. The color is called Thunderstorm. We both agreed on this color and agreed it is the color of french clay. It reminds us of our summers in Belgium.

The rose moss from Mama Ceil that we are slowly transplanting on the slope leading up to the house is still in full bloom. I love rose moss.

It was a great birthday all around.

cafe curtains in the art room

2011-09-08T15:09:00.004-04:00

I finally got around to hanging the new Simply Shabby Chic cafe curtains in the art room and I'm so pleased. The art room is the original parlour of our historic farmhouse, it's off to the the left as you come in the front door off of Main Street. It still has some original wallpaper that we figure was hung in the late 1940's or so that used to be a really beautiful creamy pearlescent vanilla color with a peacock blue snowflake motif on it - a lovely room for a lady to sit in front of the coal stove and see visitors. Unfortunately, at some time in the 1950's, Adele added painted wooden shutters on the lower half of most of the windows in the house. I love Adele's style and I can tell from finding things here and there throughout the house that she really did strive for a lovely home. Every once in a while I'll ask her if she likes something I've done and I believe she would like these curtains. She lived in this home most of her life and raised a daughter. I found some of her vintage coloring books and made sure they found a loving home where they would be appreciated. She lived into old age. At some point in her late 70's, I was told, she closed off the parlour and just lived in the back of the house with her little Pomeranian.

I got the curtains from my friend Jo Ann's rummage sale last year. You know me, I love to reuse everything. They are really like new. I already have a duvet, sham, and sheets from Rachel Ashwell's Simply Shabby Chic collection for the guest nook and happened to mention this to Jo Ann and the next thing I know - poof - I've paid a fair rummage sale price for these two curtains as well as some small pillows that match that I can use in the guest nook. They really take the glare out of the room, don't you think? I know my photos are not always "Pinterest quality" but there are some days where I just want to share what I'm doing and not spend all gosh darn morning styling a shot.

Other than that, I'm harvesting the crafters' gourds, and the last of the incredible eggplants I got this year. Thank you everyone for all of your comments here, on facebook, through private emails, and those of you who stopped by. I love making friends through my gardening. If you are over in Versailles horse country let me know.

My last harvesting efforts of the summer include putting up sweet corn (can't wait for steaming creamy corn chowder in January), and grating and freezing those yellow pattypan squash that literally bloomed and fruited from June through August. Sheesh. But that's ok because I'll put it in soups and pastas this winter for garden goodness. I took the advice of my friends Rebecca and Dianne and roasted some tomatoes. You can see the whole process on Dianne's blog with way better pictures than I ever take so go there after you are done here. I don't know how she gets it all done with honey, gardening, sheep, and spinning but she does. So I roasted some tomatoes, promptly burnt most of them because I didn't watch them, then used the good ones to make this delicious dish. I don't have a name for it. It's just something I sort of came up with based on what I had at hand.

I made salmon croquettes with canned red salmon and put in some chopped sweet onion, salt, pepper, garlic salt, egg, crumbs that I made from some stale Kashi cereal, I think paprika too, you know, just how you would make salmon patties. Then I browned those puppies in extra virgin olive oil. The dogs went crazy. Then I cooked up some linguini and made up a rice wine reduction that also had fresh lime juice and purple basil from the garden. Shaved some asiago and put luscious chunks of avocado goodness in it then used scissors and cut all of my roasted heirloom tomato bits on top and this is what I got. I hope I remembered that right. Message me if you'd like an "official" recipe. I love being inspired by my garden.

the upcycled scarf

2011-08-23T15:38:00.002-04:00

If you are with me over at the Big Fat Art Cloth fan page you may remember my posting a photo of a silk scarf and asking who gave it to me. I finally remembered that it was a gift from the beautiful textile artist Valerie White whose work is equally luscious and beautiful. We are both members of the Louisville Area Fiber & Textile Artists and this was part of a Christmas gift. How could I forget that? Things have been so disorganized since we moved from Chicago. There were so many things we just didn't bother to unpack until we finally bought this old farmhouse. Just last week we found an unopened box filled with wedding gifts. Now I have a brand new double boiler, which is kind of random but good in it's own Christmas-like way.

So anyway, I have this stash of lovely silk scarves, mostly dyed by colleagues, that I never wear. I never wear them because I'm not really the type to wear a silk scarf in the summer. I tend to walk around the house in a yoga top or a white cotton nightshirt. I don't wear them in the fall or winter because they are not warm enough for me. While I was cleaning out yet another box from the Chicago move I found some flannel sheets that I had dyed a while back. They are so soft. I used a little tying, some clamping, and a little shibori. Sorry about the wrinkles. I wanted to take photos to show you but I was also anxious to get on with my project.

I cut up the flannel, tucked it under, and sewed it to the back of a couple of my silk scarves. The flannel gives the entire scarf a nice drape and I love that one side is soft and fuzzy while the other is shiny silky goodness.

I'm not really known for my sewing machine prowess. I tend to improvise. I've always thought it would be cool to be a seamstress in Paris working on haute couture. I imagine that it would be quite brutal and any of my improvisation would not be thought the least bit endearing, but it's still something I think about when I sit and sew. Of course, if I were in Paris I would be sewing everything by hand. That suits me fine. I abhor patterns. I take pride in the fact that I can look at something and come to my own conclusion about how I would like to make it. By the time I've studied one of those horrible patterns I feel like, sheesh, I could have made something already. I suppose I'm a bit impatient too. I imagine that I would stop in the midday and squat somewhere for some brie and pear slices thrown across a chunk of bread, and then get back to it.

I've become better with my sewing machine skills. I'm self taught. I've taken a couple of creative sewing workshops with Kathy Loomis, mainly as a guinea piglet, and she encourages me to slow down when I sew. I tend to turn the machine on and go at it with much vim and vigor. I can hear Kathy saying "Slow down K. Your stitches will look nicer." She's right. I want to show you the piece I made with her last winter but I haven't been able to get a good photo of it yet. I will show you though, I promise. I don't know if I'll ever own a super fancy sewing machine. I like to control how and where my stitches will go. I'm weird that way. Even my sewing machine stitches have a way about them.

I completely love stitching and when I see something with great stitching it's really hard for me to pass it up. I used this lovely thread on my upcycled scarf.

I love the idea of upcycling clothing and I have been intrigued by some of the community sewing projects such as The Sewing Rebellion that initially came out of Chicago and other collaborative efforts to teach people how to invent their own clothing and upcycle the vast amount of consumer clothing produced. Definitely on board with these ideas. Although if I ever had the opportunity to own a beautiful piece by someone kick-ass like Marc Jacobs I don't know if I would have the chutzpah to alter it. I wonder what he would think about my urbane prairie upcycling efforts?

So many of you have contacted me about our garden. Thank you. I never could have imagined having a garden as large and fruitful as we have now after working so many years out a humble 10x5 foot splotch of land at my condo in Wrigleyville for so long, although I do miss listening to everyone sing at the 7th inning stretch while I'm out there digging around. This week my eggplants are coming to fruition.

I've got a couple of Asian varieties and the deep purple ones you can get at the market, although mine are more rounded than what you get at the market.

I wish you were here right now because my whole house smells like roasted eggplant and fresh bread. My friend Kathy Loomis gifted an Italian trombonetta squash to us and I decided to make some bread with it.

http://www.reneesgarden.com/

It's a sweet soft squash. I nibbled on some raw while I was roasting the eggplants to make babaganoush. It melted right into the breads as opposed to leaving little green speckles like other zucchini might when you use it make breads. My husband is an archaeologist and I thought he might enjoy a chunk of it when he is out in the field on a dig.

There's a big sale going on over at Renee's Seeds right now. I ordered some Cinderella pumpkin, silver-veined chard, carrots, and other heirloom tomatoes for next year. I would have ordered some of the trombonetta squash seeds from her too but Kathy's husband hooked us up with about a quarter of one of his packets so we will be planting those next spring. I'm getting word from other tomato addicts whose tomatoes stayed green for such a long time this summer that their tomatoes are starting to turn. The corn is getting tall and I find myself starting to think about apple butter.

Tony's peppers

2011-08-16T11:59:00.002-04:00

I promised I would post some pictures of my neighbor's kick-ass peppers so here they are. He has rows and rows of them and boy are they a beautiful sight. He is one of those people who knows which ones are sweet and which ones are hot even if they look exactly the same.

I traded some of my heirlooms for them. He said to come on down and pick as many as I want but I don't feel right going into someone else's garden like that even though I know he would not have said it if he didn't mean it. I may take him up on another bag in a week or so however. Isn't it weird that he is having a bumper crop with his peppers but his tomoatoes are staying green and not turning? I've heard about this same dilemna from other tomato growers this summer. All I can say is that when mine didn't turn right away I went out there and trimmed back stems and leaves to let the sun shine through the plant and they took off right after that. I normally trim them back and away in the late late summer to get as much sunlight for as long as possible in order to coax the last few tomatoes out of each plant. This year, here I was in the sweltering heat of late June trimming back tomatoes. I will remember that day for a while. I was so drenched in sweat that I could literally wring out my tshirt when I took it off in the laundry room.

These are my three heirlooms. The one on the right is the Costoluto I showed you in an earlier post. The middle tomato is called a Black Klem and it is indigenous to Russia's Black Sea area and considered the most reliable of the "black" tomatoes. The one on the left is a honker and it's called Sweet Persimmon. It is really is huge and sweet and juicy. So far I've only really harvested three tomatoes off of the Sweet Persimmon. I kept one and gave the other two away as little summer gifts. Even if you have your own stash of Beefsteaks or Better Boys it's still nice to get a little something different to put on your table I think.

Costoluto, Beefsteak, and a Black Klem. Felt like I had to throw in a photo of my Beefsteaks so that they would not feel neglected and stop growing. I'm superstitious that way

Here is what the Costoluto, Beefsteak, and Black Klem looked liked after I sliced them up. I bought a couple of big-ass loaves of crusty French bread at the market and I have been making BLT's daily using strips of vegan bacon. I honestly thought the vegan "bacon" strips were going to be weird and disappointing but I was surprised at how good they were. I stick by the real mayonnaise however. These tomatoes are what I live for.

chocolate cherries and a few more of these black peppers that I have decided to dry then crush and use as pepper in my curries this winter....that's my new "secret" ingredient.

The chocolate cherries are really coming right now. Talk about a reliable black tomato. I would argue, at least in North America, that these little chocolate cherries are as abundant and consistent as the Black Klem may be in Russia. My husband plants them and he always plants too many. I suppose that as long as we can gift little bags of them to friends and neighbors then it's alright. Frankly, I don't enjoy picking cherry tomatoes, or berries. It's just not my thing. I did manage to score two of the last pints of the season of local blackberries at the farmers' market in Versailles last week. They grow wild here in Kentucky. You all know I'm loyal to blueberries, but you can't get truckloads of Michigan blueberries here in Kentucky the way you can in Chicagoland. I would show you the blackberries but they needed to be used right away so I made a blackberry-blueberry pie. I would show you the pie but I left to go to my part-time job in Louisville and when I returned it had been dug in to. I will tell you that it was delicious.

Ladies & Gentlemen: Sunzilla

2011-08-08T13:55:00.000-04:00

If I could plant more rows next year, I could have my own Italian countryside thing going here. I told Russ we could put lace clay tiles across the top of the pole barn. It needs a new roof and is rusted to hell anyway. Other than the wine, people, language, sense of style, and well pretty much everything, my favorite thing about Italy is the sunflowers and olive groves. Here is sunzilla:

Click to embiggen...

It's got a Jack and the Beanstalk quality to it. My husband made me stand in front of it with a garden hoe for scale. I don't normally wear silk shirts and linen trousers in the garden but I was literally walking out to the car to go to work when he coaxed me over for the photo. Feel free to insert your own version of I'd-like-to-use-that-hoe-in-the-garden joke here. Russ did.

Here's a shot looking straight up at this beauty. This is the week that the yellow finches arrived. They are buzzing all over the yard, back and forth from the sunflowers to the shelter of the black walnut trees that line the property. The cardinals are getting in on the act too. I love seeing them fly in and land on one of these giant sunflowers. The seeds are almost picked over at this point. We cut a couple of mammoth heads off and threw them over to the rocks where the ground squirrels live. They've got a little condo community made out of field stone, tunnels, and the old french drain out by the pole barn. I don't want any of them getting any cute ideas to squeeze into my garden and go after my tomatoes or gourds or lettuce so we gave them these offerings. The ground squirrels look like chimpmunks so they are just cute enough to not bother me.

There's an all-day fiesta going on out here between the bees, the brightly colored birds, and the ground squirrels.

Other than that, we've started some new lettuce, cucumber, and squash to get in a late summer harvest now that the previous vines have exhausted themselves and are over on the compost pile. My eggplants are coming to fruition. I planted an Asian trio. So far the little white ones and the bright purple ones are doing well. The big dark purple variety, like you buy in the market, is just now flowering. I'm eyeing them up and down, with visions of baba ganoush made with roasted garlic on the grill dancing around in my head.

Every summer there's always a garden surprise and this year it's these smallish black peppers. They taste earthy and peppery. Neither Russ or I recall planting them. I wish I could show you my neighbor's pepper garden. Rows and rows and rows of beautiful dark green plants with pale yellow to bright green and red peppers jutting out of them. So beautiful. We traded some heirlooms for a couple bags of hot and milds. I'll post some photos of all three of my heirlooms plus my neighbor Tony's kick-ass peppers later in the week.

For as hard as it's been to leave behind my beloved Chicago, the early spring, Indian summer, and Bluegrass soil definitely make up for it. A few wine tastings at some wineries about ten minutes away make the whole deal sweeter. I'm hoping to have some wine and dinner there soon when the gold of autumn starts to set in and when it will also be my birthday. None of this is better than Chicago for me, just different in a way that I can appreciate as bountiful. You know?

heirloom tomatoes

2011-08-05T10:32:00.001-04:00

I've got bushels of this heirloom tomato right now. I'm busy making velvety tomato sauce to freeze for the winter. I mean look at these beauties.

They glow with orange-red tomato goodness. They look like little pumpkins. They are called Costoluto, a traditional Italian heirloom known for it's deep red color, lobes, and for being heavy with juice. I can attest to all of that. They are sweet and mild. I've been eating one cut up on top of a toasted pimiento cheese sandwich about every other day.

I also have a few acorn squash coming. I'll bake them with butter and brown sugar. Of course.

My other heirlooms are just starting to ripen so I'll keep you posted. They are large, smooth, and a swirly pink chocolate color.

Dear Lord I love tomatoes.

07.28.2011

2011-07-28T10:50:00.000-04:00

I was glad to hear that she would be spreading her wings and have the courage to seek herself, but as I realized I was getting ready to settle into a whole new series of work - geographically locked in the bliss of my studio - it was bittersweet.

Watercolor on paper. K. Crane. Walden Series. University of Chicago.

Not lonely, but making all the earth lonely beneath it. ~Henry David Thoreau

Moochie's Perspective

2011-07-25T20:09:00.001-04:00

Not much to do today except take a nap on top of the cool metal of the cellar door.

Or chat up the local hound. She's always looking out for the gossip the critters are dishing out on Main Street in this sleepy town.

Mugsy will run around for all of us. So no need to do that.

Maybe slurp down some water or dig for ground squirrels over by the old hitching post. But other than that...not much really.

Taking a walk in the shady grass will just make you sleepy too.

Probably best to get some rest and enjoy the sweet slumber of possibilities.

Yes. Readjust and dream of possibilities.

sunzilla update

2011-07-18T11:50:00.000-04:00

My Van Gogh and bee-friendly sunflowers from Renee's Seeds have bloomed and are over ten feet high.

I had no idea they would get that tall. I expected the sunzillas to get out of control but the VanGogh and bee-friendly sunflowers are crazy too. I am standing and pointing upward in the photo above if that gives you any idea how tall these are. In the photo above, the Van Goghs are in the foreground and the bee-friendly sunflowers are taller, with a smaller flower in the background.

I usually plant shorter versions in the front such as an autumn medley or red or even teddy bears, but this year I didn't get to the Rural King in a timely fashion. The sunzillas and edible, mammoths are yet to bloom. I can't wait. The bee-friendly sunflowers are bright lemon sherbert colored with a dark cocoa colored center, the VanGoghs are gold-yellow petals with a golden brown center, the mammoths should be a true yellow with a medium brown colored center, and as for the sunzillas I just couldn't tell you but I'll know soon. The sunzillas are just now crowning. I can't wait for them to bloom. The leaves along are probably eighteen inches across. Here's pictures of the VanGoghs...

It's a bumper crop in the garden patch this year. The rain and the heat have excellerated everything. I am literally going to have bushels of heirloom tomatoes. Here are some of them starting to ripen and I promise I will post photos of the beautiful orange-red tomato goodness as soon as I can. No one is looking more forward to eating one of these jewels than me.

It must be the Kentucky soil, and the fact that we were lucky enough to buy an old property. In Lexington, developers strip the top soil off of properties then charge new homeowners for a lawn, but even then you do not get much top soil. We have eighteen to twenty four inches of top soil on our historic property in Versailles, but our friends in Lexington barely have four inches and are having to build their soil. Isn't that just so crazy - and greedy? Anyway, I've never had squash just keep going and going like these are this year. It's nice to be able to give some away as little summer gifts too.

My chocolate-cherries are still green but if you look closely you can see the sweet flesh starting to get its groove on.

My beefsteaks are still somewhat small (for a beefsteak) and green but are coming along. I'm pleased.

And I have two firsts. My asian eggplants are growing exponentially every day. There is a purple hue within the leaves and the plants themselves.

I love it and it is inspiring me to dye some cloth with a purple hue running through it. I put some cotton and silk in a synthropol bath and am waiting to do some dyeing. I'm waiting on time that is. As you can see, I'm so busy in the garden and renovating this historic property that everything else seems to be falling to the side. I hate that, don't you?

The other first is that we've grown lettuce. I started this lettuce in late spring and then transplanted it to the raised bed by the acorn squash and crafter's gourds. I thought it died. Then about two weeks later Russ said hey look we're growing something there. Within another week it was clear we had lettuce. We picked this delicious lettuce and ate it and there's more growing there now. My peppers look great this year too and if my bell peppers produce like they look like they are going to then that will sort of be a first as well. Right now I have four types of peppers planted.

My goal is to try to grow more veggies earlier and later in the season. I need to find things I can harvest in the spring even if I grow them inside. And I'd also like to extend the lettuce and any other colder veggies such as leeks, or cabbage into the mid to late fall. What about garlic? This is the goal anyway. I love walking by the produce aisle in the grocery and thinking to myself that there's no need because I have my own in my garden. I like saving the money too. I've been cooking a whole bag of dried beans at a time and then portioning them into freezer bags. I wish I could tell you I've been baking my own bread but I'm also a working girl and I haven't worked that out yet.

I'm going to make some kick-ass chili this winter with the peppers and tomatoes I plan on freezing (shout out to you Rebecca). Oh and curry. You gotta have curry.

some peace

2011-07-08T12:13:00.001-04:00

I'm outside amidst the construction of what will be the sunroom and watching the torrential rain today, having my regular french-pressed coffee of course.

It's coming down in a sheet over my garden. Look at my towering sunzillas. They are almost ten feet high.

It's a lush hiss of rain today, and I'm realizing I don't have to answer to anyone today. I can sit quietly and think about my latest series of oil bar and wax paintings, about how large I want to take it. I'm just watching.

I think the sunflowers will bloom next week.