suchity such

cobbler's kids

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Thu, 24 May 2012 23:14:00 +0000

...the best part about returning from Market is that my kiddos get their stuff back! This particular cobbler's kids totally have no shoes. Much of my company is founded on designing things for my children and their interests, yet they aren't allowed to actually have the things I make because they end up being my samples! Ha! So happy to let them have their things...

Spring Quilt Market 2012

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Thu, 24 May 2012 18:12:00 +0000

We're back from Spring Market in Kansas City with many thoughts and images to share. If I had to say it in one word: VIBRANT. So very vibrant.

But here are a few others to describe the buzz in Bartle Hall:

Connected
Creative
Excited
Kind
Interesting
Enlightening
Super-duper-fun

It was like a giant three-day party, filled with talented people and good talks. Personally, I am still blown away by the warm welcome I have received into the community. I feel grateful and lucky to be part of it.

Here is the way I see it—this modern craft movement is the cure. It is a form of global therapy for all of us and we are seeking it out as a panacea for modern life. Crafting heals us. It excites us. It puts us back in touch with our hands and each other. It stitches together everything from our fractured two-party system divisions, to disconnection from our neighbors due to garage-entrance-only-architecture, to our tweeting/screen-staring stupors and separations. We are literally sewing ourselves up—putting ourselves and our culture back together. And it is an awesome thing to be a part of. The craft cure of Quilt Market was not only evident in the fabrics and colors in each booth, but in the joy and connection of each person in attendance.

Here is my tiny booth—definitely modest compared to the incredible displays of many booths—but I was so proud to share my work with the world.

Our newest pattern, Giggle & Squeak, was received with...well...giggles and squeaks!

I met so many incredible people doing all sorts of amazing work—bloggers, designers, shop-keepers, publishers, connectors. First, and most importantly, I was so excited about my friend Shea Henderson's debut. Her awesome company, Empty Bobbin Sewing Studio, had a gorgeous booth filled with saturated, graphic quilts.

I met just about every amazing blogger and designer that has inspired me along my journey:


With kind and generous, nicey-nicerton designer and writer, Rashida Coleman-Hale, and lovely Ellen Luckett Baker of the Long Thread. Both of whom have great fabrics and books out right now...


With the petite and adorable, Alyssa Thomas, of her well-branded company, Penguin & Fish. Her embroidery patterns are delightful. I can't wait to make mine!

With Jake Finch of the cool, new modern quilt magazine, Generation Q, and my amazing trooper of a mom, in fabric designer Marcia Derse's holy booth. I think I could live in a fort made entirely of her fabrics.

Had the chance to meet this incredible woman. You know...Tia...from Camp Follower Bags? She uses the emotionally-loaded camo shirts worn by enlisted men and women and turns them into gorgeous bags. Check her out. She is doing good work and making a difference.


How about that dress!?! That is the lovely Leslie from Denyse Schmidt wearing Denyse's funky, fresh new Chicopee fabric line (below) sewn up in Heather Ross's Kimono Dress from her book Weekend Sewing. If ever I have one second to actually sew something for myself, I'm starting with this!

Denyse Schmidt's Chicopee fabrics...seventies camp chic!


How have I gone this far without mentioning the exquisite and timeless booth and fabrics by Amy Butler?

...or the adorable Sarah Jane booth, which included darling built-in nautical bunk beds...


...or the wonderful Violet Craft fabrics for Michael Miller...

...and the precious Croquet Dress and other patterns from Oliver + S...

I was so excited to meet the graceful and gracious, Liesl Gibson (with wise hubby Todd) at their chalkboard booth for Oliver + S and the Straight Stitch Society.

I feel lucky to have connected with so many talented people. What a wonderful whirlwind Quilt Market was. I could keep going on and on...but 'nuff said for now...

desert diary

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Fri, 11 May 2012 03:55:00 +0000

In April,

the Palo Verdes

decide

(all at once)

to bloom—

then, in May,

to let go of

every
single
flower

Saffron snowstorm.

Wall-to-wall carpet.

I can't get enough.

Lucy's Crab Shack

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Wed, 09 May 2012 18:05:00 +0000

Just had to whip up some Giggle & Squeak™ pillows using the brand new (and very adorable) fabric by Sweetwater (for Moda) called Lucy's Crab Shack.

Studios Magazine — summer 2012

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Tue, 08 May 2012 20:14:00 +0000

I am sorry about the narcissistic swerve into horn-tooting of late, but there is seriously a lot of great press happening right now. I was crazy honored when Linda Blinn, editor at Studios Magazine, asked if I would write a bit about crafting with kids. But when I opened the package from them yesterday I was stunned by the beautiful pages filled with photos and words about our messy, happy art-making adventures. This issue is gorgeous, inspiring, and filled with kids stuff. Go get your copy today. Or, well...would like a free one? Let's do a giveaway!

Leave a comment below by Sunday, May 13th (midnight) and I'll pick a random winner.

To Market, to market...

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Tue, 08 May 2012 19:45:00 +0000

Getting very excited. We are packing up for Spring Quilt Market 2012 in Kansas City—boxes and bins everywhere. I am really looking forward to seeing the whole sewing world next week! What fun we'll have. If you'll be there, come see us.

I'll be presenting a Schoolhouse talk to shop owners about my brand, merchandising my products, and selecting artful, tonal fabrics for the modern sewinista! Am focusing on one single question for Market:

Umm...do ya know? Hard to be still enough to listen sometimes, isn't it? But whatever it is...well, what are you waiting for? Shake those tail feathers and go do it, get it, change it, make it, find it, love it. We have to.

QuiltMania on stands Soon

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Sat, 05 May 2012 19:39:00 +0000

Mon dieu! Quelle chose marveilleuse! QuiltMania is a French magazine that is printed in both French and English. They asked me if I they could feature my Wonky Houses pattern—a thrill and an honor. I also created for them a variation of my Wonky Little Houses pattern pillow called Les Deux Petites Maisons (Two Little Houses). I am excited and honored to see my pattern in its pages. There are some adorable projects inside that I can't wait to create.

The magazine sells for $20 and will be on stands soon. It is a special issue called Special Children 2012. Get yours at Pink Chalk Fabrics here or in bookstores and quilt shops soon.

Almost summer

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Wed, 02 May 2012 03:31:00 +0000

It all changed. Two weeks ago. All at once. I felt it. Now I can see it too—the light is different. It is a slow awakening each year. And then, rather suddenly, everything shifts. The light turns almost pink. My pupils can't do their work of filtering out the sun anymore and sunglasses, which in the winter are just an option, now become a necessity.

Summer is almost here. Again. In Phoenix. And we here in my house have all already...eased...into it. Homework seems less important. Everything seems less important. The sun is telling us a new story—a backyard hosewater story. The story before the mosquitos come. And popsicles are consumed at all times of day. And frozen grapes. And every night, like right now, I stumble upon the realization that it is bedtime. And it is way too late. 8:05 and we haven't even read. And we won't, because these days, I can find my man and my little boy, by the glow of the bedroom tv, watching post-season basketball or post-season hockey. And I wouldn't change a thing.

And my baby girl is stuffing tiny heart-shaped buttons into a wad of silly putty next to me as I type. She isn't much of a sports fan yet. So I need to go read her the Berenstein Bears and get her to sleep.

Giggle & Squeak!

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 18:20:00 +0000

I have been sitting on my hands and my hat for months, but I can finally show you what I have been working on—the Giggle & Squeak™ quilt and pillow pattern! This adorable quilt for boys or girls whips up so easily using simple fusible appliqué techniques. You are sure to giggle and squeak as you are creating these friendly animals for the kiddos you love. Also included in the pattern are instructions for creating a piped pillow in two sizes and guidelines for making the pattern as a twin quilt.

My assistant, Mary Beth, whipped up the boy version on the cover using bold Marcia Derse fabrics and I just love it. I made the girl version using Japanese linens and felted wools. The effect is peaceful, sophisticated, and chic. I can't wait to release pattern at Spring Quilt Market in Kansas City. (I'll be in booth #105. Come see me if you'll be there!)

Oh...and the pattern is in the shop.

little post-it notes for the soul

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 22:30:00 +0000

Just watched shame researcher, Brené Brown, PhD, speaking at the Omega Institute in New York via live feed. Pretty cool. She spoke about similar things from her TED talk here. In today's talk she shared some thoughts on our culture of "scarcity", in which we wake up saying, "we didn't get enough sleep," and we go to bed saying "we didn't get enough done." Basically, telling ourselves that we aren't enough all day long. She also spoke about letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol. I find her genuineness and warmth to be rather comforting and her research on vulnerability to be uber-inspiring.

I was watching the live feed on my computer in the studio and felt the urge to get out the brushes and ink—my own comforting practice. There are reasons that I am not painting these days...but that is a topic for another day.

Some of Brené Brown's ideas on becoming wholehearted (I added the Facebook one).

Certain imagery always come back again and again in my work: empty bowls, bowls with stuff in them, pomegranates, flowers, natural things, eucalyptus branches, the cracks in streets. They just repeat over and over for decades. I often think that we really only have one thing to say as artists, much like a musician's Opus. The vessels for these thoughts, ideas, and feelings is as arbitrary as anything. The imagery is just a container for the stuff that lives in our hearts. When we feel like we have said what we need to say, we can stop.

But I am not done with bowls or any of it. I started playing with Brené Brown's ideas and creating reminders for myself...post-it notes for the soul...written on little bowls. Then I dragged them into Illustrator and had even more fun.

Yo ho ho and a bottle of...

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 20:28:00 +0000

"Who do you want to be, mom?" I get that question a lot around here from the big boy, "Will Turner or Jack Sparrow?"..."Hermione or Hagrid?"..."Do you want to be the parrot?" I particularly like being Jack Sparrow because of the kookiness of his character and the pirate accent.

At the same time, my baby girl often lines up all of her stuffed animals for tea parties, school, naps, or storytime. She sometimes pretends to be a puppy. She barks and begs for spoonfuls of peanut butter, which I place on the floor for her to eat. (I make her sit and shake with her paw, first.)

So, I have been pondering the idea of children's attraction to role playing and all the related imagination games and I have realized that we grown-ups don't really do that. We don't decide to be one person today and another tomorrow. We don't explore characters unless we are actors or it's Halloween. I don't pretend to be a CEO today and a barista tomorrow—although I think that sounds awesome! (I suppose if you count the fantasy that comes from buying lottery tickets and rehearsing how you will dole out the money to all the people you love, then I do role play often.) Interesting, though, that young children do it so naturally. It occurs to me that they don't have fixed personalities yet. They aren't caught up in issues of identity or have too much concern about who they will become—they are too busy BE-ing. They aren't locked into the relatively static definition of self that we are. It is all pretty interesting. Some good info about the importance of role play here, here, and here.

I must confess, it is tricky to navigate imaginative pirate play—what with all the drinking and womanizing and looting. The thing is...Jack Sparrow is kooky because he's totally drunk. Lately, we have been playing with our Pirates of the Caribbean LEGOs and the kits come with (quite a few) little bottles. So, the other day we were acting out our little minifigues and I suggested we have a picnic on our deserted LEGO island while we wait to be rescued by a ship. My son informed me that pirates don't eat food—"they just drink beverages." Perhaps because of my husband's recovery, our son doesn't actually know what goes in those bottles because he doesn't see them at home. So I asked him, "what sort of beverages do pirates drink?" "Grum," he said. Of course...grum.

I gotta go now because I really want to go pretend I am a princess...and I am going to a hidden princess spa in the West Indes for a glitter pedicure and a hot stone massage and a...glass of grum. :)

Classroom pillows

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 15:22:00 +0000

Pillows from the first day

Have Bernina...will travel! That's my motto. This week, my son's kindergarten teachers were kind enough to let me bring my sewing machine to school as a choice time activity. He often comes home from school with hand sewn felt stuffies and I just love that they teach the kids to sew by hand at his school. What an important life skill to learn at a young age. I thought it would extend the curriculum if they used a power tool! In two days the kids made 28 pillows. They each picked their own fabrics from my scrap bin, traced the templates, cut, and then brought their creation to me at the machine where I let them push the pedal! We had a lot to sew so I encouraged them to go a bit faster than I normally would. I think they had lots of fun. And I just love that they all went home with a creation they had designed and made. One mom told me her son brought his to the dinner table last night because he was so excited about it.

This guy came up to me and said, "I want one of those machines." I told him I thought that would be a good idea, to which he replied, "maybe when I'm my own parent I can get one." :)

Pillows from the second day. The kids were really amped up on the second day because they had seen their friends sewing the first day and were excited about their turn.

Sewing School :: Day 4

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 04:34:00 +0000

Today my two aspiring sewist pupils finished their A-line, elastic waist skirts at our tiny sewing school (earlier post here). We used the My Very Own Skirt pattern in the awesome Sewing School book. The work took two sessions—about four hours total—but it was worth the wait. Seriously? Homemade clothing? Major coolness and inner-pride. Dude.

Brené Brown, PhD

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 18:49:00 +0000

Photo credit: tracyclark.com/blog

I remember years ago in my therapist's office when my therapist mentioned shame to me. I looked at her completely blankly—my eyes glazed over. Of course I had heard that word many times, but didn't really understand it. I had no idea what shame was but I knew good and well that it wasn't my issue. (Ha!) How could it be when I had so many other issues to work on!?! Even after years of work, I still didn't get it. But life eventually intervened and I finally got to explore my shame, thankfully.

I am a mother, artist, a nannyless momtrepreneur, wife, friend, and daughter. I am enough. I do a lot of things—some well, some not so well. But I do like myself—usually—and nothing I can think of to say in this blog or anywhere else, could be as important as what researcher, Brené Brown PhD, says in her brilliant 2010 TED talk about vulnerability here. You must watch it even if you have somewhere to be or something to do right now. You must watch it even if you don't trust me to know what I am talking about. If we could all achieve vulnerability and a healthy awareness of our shame this world would be a much better place. If we could just be whole-hearted all the time. Brené Brown will blow your mind.

After you watch that talk, watch her 2012 TED talk here.

By the way, if you are a Downton Abbey fan and in complete withdrawal until next season like me, then the great book, The House at Tyneford, by Natasha Solomons might tide you over for a minute. In that book is a passage in which our hero finds a wedding wish note, scribbled on a piece of paper and tucked into a book: "May there be sufficient clouds in one's life to make for a spectacular sunset." This reader feels that those words beautifully express the effect that shame (but also the courage that it takes to be vulnerable to life's bumps and bangs) might have on one's life—if one is brave enough to let it in.

Owie Cat

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 00:02:00 +0000

When my little ladybird told me she fell down at school today and hurt her knee, I told her we'd go home and put ice-rice on it. To my great alarm and surprise, I realized that we didn't actually have any ice-rice in our freezer (just frozen peas). Ice-rice is the normal stuff of preschool: cold rice in a little ziploc baggie used to soothe booboos. It does wonders for owies of all sorts.

How did she get to be two and a half years old without any ice-rice? So I asked her to design her own. She said she wanted a blue bear which turned into a cat. She picked her fabrics and I drew a cat. She picked button eyes. We filled it with rice and sewed it shut. Voila!

When the big boy came home from school he wanted to design his own ice-rice so he chose to make a LEGO head. Easy peasey. He helped me trace it on freezer paper and then he burned himself on the iron. Then he tripped over the iron cord and almost got really hurt. It is good thing we had so many ice-rice packs around with all the studio-sustained injuries!

I can't say that today was a fun sewing day, what with my baby girl spilling all the buttons, falling off the chair, and saying no a lot. Sometimes, crafting with my kids calls on every ounce of my patience and even then I am still too reactive and frustrated. Today was one of those days and I don't fancy days like that—days when I have too many expectations about the finished product. Those expectations only make for creative limitation and perfectionism, which in turn stifles the joy of creating stuff and makes for an unhappy mama. I end up shooing the kiddos out of the studio instead of just enjoying them. Our creative bliss generally hinges on spur of the moment craft-drawer constructions or kitchen table creations with no function or purpose other than pleasure, fun, being together, and making a beautiful mess. Many days are spent like that around here, that is why I hate to ruin it all with one bad day. The awesome Pema Chodron speaks to that in one of her amazing books (several of which I have listened to in the car. You didn't think I actually had time to read, did you?) She says that you can use your best behavior and kindness for months or years on end, yet if you have one bad day and say the unkind or angry word, you can undo all of your good efforts—erase them in a second. It sucks but it's true (even she had a hard time assimilating this particular teaching from Shantideva from the the 8th century). It sounds rather black or white, but really the point is that kindness is cumulative and never-ending—there is never a moment where we can take our foot off the pedal and stop being kind. And the harsh word is always the one we remember, isn't it? Even if a thousand kind words were spoken in between.

Luckily my husband reminded me that I am a good mom as I was spiraling down and he happened to be reading uber-wise Brené Brown's book, The Gifts of Imperfection, so he handed it to me to help me out. Perhaps I should read it?

Lemonade stand redux

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Tue, 06 Mar 2012 05:11:00 +0000

The Stand.

Spring seems to have come a bit early this year, which would be nice if we lived in Minnesota. In the desert, warm and sunny days are so relentless that you hate to see one in early March. But when global warming gives you lemons...well, you know. Anyway, it feels like yesterday that I posted about our last lemonade stand—click here—but I fear it was probably a year ago. It always happens quite unexpectedly and fully without warning. Thankfully, we had six lemons on hand and some sugar. The signage is usually the first order of business. Check out the totally kick-ass spelling of quarter in the illustration below. Big difference this year: big boy can write...and the ladybird joined us in every bit of the fun. She even colored her own KRODR. :)


This is the Adobe Illustrator version of our sign. I think my son's choice to put the Quarter onto the cup of lemonade tells me he has seen the inside of one too many Starbuck's..es...Starbuckses' How the heck do you write that?

It was a nice Stand. I told the kids that if they were going to sell a product and be an attractive brand, they had to tell a story. (Can you tell I'm reading Recipe for Press, Shea? It is so great, thanks for the tip.) I asked them what their story was and the big boy said, "colorful...beautiful," parroting my exact words. We picked blooming bougainvillea, desert marigold, lavender, and eucalyptus to attract attention and increase sales. Not so sure it worked, but it was great fun. And we did have a paying customer! Mainly we just sat around eating strawberries.

That is a super-old hexagon pieced quilt made by my hub's great gram—hand-tied later by her daughter with acrylic yarn.

Macro, macro.

Macro marigolds.


End of the day earnings—3 bucks. Lemonade afternoon—priceless.

Love this. So true.

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 23:47:00 +0000

“Making the decision to have a child—it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

~Elizabeth Stone

today's homework

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 00:49:00 +0000


I am a pretty girl. Being pretty. I have weird cheeks. I have aqua hair. Yet, I might be a flapper. I no doubt know love. I am young, but not unwise.

Hurrah for school! This was a very quick sketch made with a red Crayola marker. I scanned it in and played with it. I am having boatloads of fun. Lovin' Live Trace in AI.

!!!

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 04:44:00 +0000

I think I just wee-weed in my pants with sheer excitement and delight about the little LEGO minifigure I just managed to create FROM SCRATCH in Adobe Illustrator. I never even cried. I drew all of his tiny parts with the Shape tool and the Pen in Illustrator. (I know it isn't perfect.) But I think I might possibly be kicking some serious mommy ass and win some best-mom-ever awards (only from my son, of course). A custom LEGO minifigure of his own? I think I just p e e d again! This might be the holy grail. Think of the possibilities...think of what this could mean! Where do we go from here?

I love Nicole's Classes! In three scant weeks of online classes I have crushed my paralyzing fear of computer graphics. Dear Reader, if you need to get some skills in Photoshop or Illustrator, get thee on over to Nicole's.

have you seen these?

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 18:21:00 +0000

LEGO for Moleskine. Be still my heart.

LEGO for Moleskine. Limited edition journals: write in the book—attach LEGOS to the cover. And then the counsel to "think with your hands." Goodness me. I think this might be my moment of nirvana in the capitalist mainframe for the week. Is it more heavenly for the child or for his parents? Not sure. We might just get some super glue and a Composition notebook and call it quits. :) Get your at Moleskine or Amazon.

Sewing School :: Day 2

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 02:35:00 +0000

When two of my mama friends asked if I would teach their eight year old daughters to sew, I jumped at the chance. I distinctly remember learning to knit in an after-school class taught by my 4th grade English teacher, Mrs. Broughton. I remember how weirdly special it felt to be at school after hours— to be learning something other than English from my teacher. It felt... mystical—as if we were somehow conspiring. As if she was teaching me what I really needed to know in life.

Teaching young girls old crafts feels more like a rite of passage than an art class. There is a thrill and a rush that comes from the power of learning how to make a simple, useful thing with one's own hands. I remember my first knitted object—a lumpy, dark purple, acrylic pot holder. I remember marveling at it and feeling so proud of what my two hands had made.

The girls might be having that same feeling tonight. On their second-ever day of sewing class each girl made a patchwork pillow for her own room. They learned about seam allowances, pressing, turning corners, and the importance of precise measurements. It was awesome. (I did also tell them that the machine could sew through their fingers if they put them near the needle while it was moving...too much? Perhaps, but I kinda wanted them to be aware of the machine's power.)

My mama friends insist that I am doing them a favor, but I keep telling them that I am the beneficiary of this arrangement. I get to be the one the girls will remember when they are thirty-nine years old and have children of their own and they think about the first thing they ever sewed. I hope they remember me as fondly as I remember Edith Broughton. And if they are anything like me, what they will mainly remember is the magic of witnessing their hands make something they can use for the very first time—something that they can hold on to. And the magic of learning an old art from an older woman.

If a sandwich could talk...

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 20:42:00 +0000

this one would say, "i love you, i love you, i love you—with my whole heart, i love you." Since my little ladybird's favorite foods include, but are not limited to: chocolate, cake, hummus & carrots, or chocolate, the sandwich sits uneaten on the plate. And somebody should take away my cookie cutters too (Elaina!).

A Valentine

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 03:03:00 +0000

Is it ever too soon to introduce your kiddo to Adobe Illustrator? Not if you want to spare him a fate of crying and falling apart every time he tries to edit anything he makes on the computer...ah hem...not that I end up in a crumpled heap, speed-dialing my graphic designer whenever I am editing my pattern templates... (hi, Flip!) So, I'm taking the coolest online class in Adobe Illustrator over at Nicole's Classes and I have learned so much already in one week. Am having so much fun.

I kinda wanted my six year old son to be able to make his own Valentines but didn't want him to feel crazy burdened by the task—gotta keep it fun. So he drew his idea, we scanned it, then played with it in Illustrator and he did the editing and color selection, etc. LOVE it. Heart + heart = VALENTINE, naturally! He said, "I hope everyone gets it." I get it.

Valentine's day PB&J

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 20:57:00 +0000

Planning ahead: Valentine's Day PB &J. Got the idea from my friend, Elaina's, blog here. Good stuff.

put a bird on it

noreply@blogger.com (such) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 19:59:00 +0000

It seems that I can't stop putting a bird on things (watch hilarious video here). I was asked to create some auctionable artwork with my daughter's class for a school fundraiser. I made a diptych of painted and collaged birds and flowers. The two-year olds helped me place and glue all the little fabric flowers onto the stems I had already painted. This exercise was certainly like herding cats. Two-year olds have an amazing lack of understanding about what is up or down or here or there which made the finished pieces so much better. Adult minds are so limited by comparison. I made sure not to edit or correct their choices—they all put the hearts sideways and the flowers not on stems. It was awesome. I must try harder to let go of my understanding of pictorial space in my normal adult life! :)