I is for images.

News hot off the press!  Apart from the excitement that Spain is going to the World Cup finals, I'm excited to report that the non-existent eBay item was sold! The winner used cunning skill, determination and an iPhone from a remote location in order to secure the prize and steal the glory from the other competitors.  Congratulations to the winner, thanks to all of the bidders/smack-talkers, and more info to follow.
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It wasn’t so much my imagination that sparked this homemade idea more than necessity. I spent the holiday weekend camping next to a strikingly beautiful river in Northern California, and over the course of this three-day trip, I produced three whole photographs of the experience. So I got home today and thought, “Boy, do I need a place for these three pictures or what?!”
In order to truly capture this “holy trinity” of camping photographs, I chose three colors. Green, naturally, because the campsite was surrounded by stunning pine trees, the river was overflowing with lush, mossy rocks, and the crisp, clean mountain water was a rich shade of aqua green. Purple, because someone brought blueberry Pop-Tarts that were a brilliant artificial violet tone. And pink, the color of everyone’s mosquito-bitten arms and legs after walking through the woods without bug spray.
To further add to the spirit of a true “rustic experience,” I also chose to use only three materials: fabric, thread and paper. The true backbones of the artistic experience. Also, I opted to not follow any sort of pattern. It was liberating! Like when you are camping and you don’t have a sense of time, but then you’re sort of nervous that time is important (and why am I not worrying about time? Which causes some anxiety.) So I winged it, not knowing any measurements, and not measuring, but being sort of nervous that measurements are actually important (and wondering why I wasn't more worried about measurements?! I was anxious.)
The final product fulfills it’s purpose for existing. It displays three photographs. It may not be flat, and it certainly isn’t symmetrical, but it sure does hold three images.

You’ll notice that it currently contains three “decoy photos.” The three outstanding camping photos are soon to come. Below you’ll find a preview.

H is for Happy Hour

Before I start (I feel like Ira Glass when he asks for donations from podcast listeners) I just want to point out that this will be the last post before the eBay auction ends on Monday. Things are heatin’ up! Four bidders. Lots of smack-talk going on (one person claims they are the “only horse in this race”, one is taunting the other’s sewing machine preferences, another wants their item made of velour so they can drape it over themselves in victory.) Who will be the lucky one to get a “custom-made piece of art?!!” Did I say it is custom-made? Here's the link: eBay battle

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Okay, I confess. I tried all day to figure out how to make my evening plans fit into the letter “H.” Neither the place or the activity began with the letter. But then I consulted the Alphabet Summer rule book (myself) and decided that this was well within the boundaries. It was a social event slightly after the hour of 6pm involving beer, talking, and crafting; Therefore, I will designate this event "Crappy Hour."
I met my fiery (and punctual) crafting partner-in-crime Claire at the Museum of Craft and Folk Art (the MOCFA. I know, it sounds like a curse word. You MOCFA!) What could be better? A museum dedicated to crafty things hosting a Craft Bar with Etsy Labs event! Warm beer and appetizers, awkward social mingling between crafty people, and best of all, felting.
Now, I’ve been pretty skeptical about this whole felting thing. I knew one person (at my former place of employment that rhymes with Crapston) who was an avid “felt-er” and I never really understood what she was going on about. But, I didn’t have much else going on in my life yesterday evening, so it was either continue playing Angry Birds on my iPhone until my eyes popped out, or go poke my fingers multiple times with a felting needle. Honestly, it was a tough call.
The concept of this event was to go around from one craft station to the next, trying out different activities. Felt penguins here, felt necklaces there, felt caterpillars and knitting outside on the windy terrace (My heart went out to the "Stitch and Bitch" woman, who sat knitting quietly in a circle of empty chairs while the felting tables overflowed with humans.) With so many thrilling options, where to start?!
We chose the caterpillar station, because it seemed easier and more confidence-boosting. When mine came out looking more like a piece of edamame with a toupee, I was reassured by Claire that this was about "learning to felt," not about being perfect. Alright, fine. My felting finger was turning white from the brisk San Francisco evening, so we went inside to check out the scene. Yikes. We tried to elbow our way to the penguin table, but it was mobbed with over-eager bird lovers. And who would want to make a felt necklace? Please. So we decided to go rogue and make our own projects. Oh, the dirty looks! “You’re not making a penguin?” “Where did you get the instructions on how to make a pig?“ Awww. Such cute, inside-the-box crafters! I mean really! You take some wool and stab at it with a needle! You can make a turkey sandwich if you set your mind to it!
I have to admit, the penguins were pretty awesome. But my little red hog (H for Hog!) and Claire’s turquoise monster were symbolic of our philosophy on crafting: Why make a gray and black non-flying bird just because they tell you to, when you can just as easily make a red pig or a blue monster?
We are two crafty MOCFAs.

G is for Grandma

The recent birth of the next generation in my family has got me thinking.  Looking back on the past 12 months of my life, I am overwhelmed by how much change there has been.  But what about someone who has lived 85 years?  That’s my overwhelmed feeling times 85!  How will I ever cope with this!? I decided to get some advice on this matter, so as to avoid self-implosion. I got my grandma, Leatha “Tiny” Holly, on the phone.  Thanks to a series of confusing “Save as” functions and an attempted “Export” from Garage Band (why is that program so confusing!?),  I had a slight to major panic attack when I couldn’t find the 55 minute conversation anywhere on my computer.  Already a little worked up from watching the Spain-Portugal game, I had to put my head between my knees and breathe. Turns out it was saved under “Female Voice.”  Hmm.  Now it’s saved for all posterity in my iTunes library under the artist name “Grandma Holly.” (I can’t wait until that comes up on Party Shuffle!)

Life, love, and children...  here are some of Tiny’s words of wisdom:

Me: Grandma, do you remember your wedding day? Tiny: OF COURSE I remember my wedding day! (she giggles- Yes I realize that was a dumb question.  Who isn’t going to remember their wedding day?) I was stressed and I was glad when it was over!  We went to Niagara Falls for our honeymoon, and then came back and settled into a long 60 years!


Me: Do you remember any fights with Grandpa? Tiny: Oh, we didn’t have fights, we had discussions!  I remember telling that to your mom once and she said, “Well boy, you sure do have a lot of discussions then!”


Me: Do you have any advice about discussing with your husband, then? Tiny: Don’t take anything too seriously.  If and when you get married (I smile), and you don’t agree, don’t fight about it. Try to figure out why you don’t agree.  The most important thing in a marriage is to talk.  The idea is to do that and stay sane.  You have to know how each person feels, because you both come from different backgrounds, you both come from different families, and you gotta learn to do those things.


Me: What’s the hardest thing about being a mother? Tiny: Oh my gosh.  That’s a hard question!  With each phase that the children go through, you have to know how to react.


Me: What about being a mother to teenagers? Tiny: Now there’s your problem.  Teenagers. (--connection sign!*--) Teenagers are trying to grow up and they want to do things on their own when their not old enough to.  You gotta be able to not let them run wild,  that’s all.  And that’s hard.  They want to do what everybody else does.  And they’ll say to you, “Well she can do it, why can’t I?”  Did you ever say that to your mother? (Me?  Never!  I was the model teenager!) It’s a nice feeling to be a mother of a teenager, because they’re growing up, they’re learning, but it’s also hard, because they want to do things that you don’t want them to do, but you have to let them do things.  But it’s alright, every teenager grows up and mothers handle it.


Me:  What was it like when you became a grandmother for the first time? (She insisted that it was the same for the births of all four grandchildren, me being the second.  I said I wouldn’t be sad if she felt that the first one was more special.  But she didn’t give in!) Tiny: I really loved that.  My baby was having a baby... I know people say that, but it’s true!  I can still see Susie as this little kid clinging to my skirt and crying at me.  And here she’s having a baby!  It’s just something that is just hard to describe!  And then when you came along it was the same (he he).


Me:  What is it like to be a great-grandmother? Tiny:  It’s so thrilling.  It’s cry-able.  Because I cry a lot.  I look at that little baby and I think, my goodness, that’s my granddaughter’s baby, I’m great-grandmother to this beautiful little baby! I’m so amazed that I’m so fortunate to live this long... I’m not very young anymore you know!  It’s great, I’ve lived a long time, and this is one of the best things that’s happened.


Me:  What do you remember in your lifetime to be an important event? Tiny: World War II.  I look back at that time, walking home from work or school and it was the strangest thing to have soldiers walking around.  It was that feeling of “there’s a war going on” and knowing that all the guys went to war.  Grandpa went to war, and he was very lucky to come home!


Me: What has changed in your lifetime? Tiny:  My goodness.  Everything has changed, I don’t understand what’s going on. You can’t imagine, we had little radios and our cars weren’t very good.  Now look!


Me: What has stayed the same? Tiny: We all have families, we all get married, that’s all the same.


Me:  Do you think we are better off now? Tiny: Well, I wouldn’t want to go back!  Some people want to go back to the ‘olden days’... I don’t!  I don’t want to go back to when we had to ride a horse and buggy! I don’t like that stuff!  I like things to be easy and simple!  I want a washing machine, I don’t want to wash my clothes by hand! (I don’t either!)


Me: Will you tell the “Big Head” story?  This is one of my favorite stories that my grandma tells...  I just had to hear it again! Tiny: Your mother came home from school crying one day in the 2nd grade and said to me, “Do you know anybody that has a head that’s bigger than their body?” and I said, “Well, no, I don’t.  Who?” and then she says, “Me!”  (We giggle, except my mom in the background who was surely rolling her eyes) Well you have to get these stories before something happens to me otherwise they’ll be gone forever! (Sidenote: My mom does have a “larger than average” head, but is now at peace with it because it means she has "more brains.")


Tiny is one of seven siblings, the mother of three daughters and one son, the grandmother to four girls, and the great-grandmother to one tiny baby Stella.

*For those of you not fortunate enough to know the connection sign gesture yet: Make the gesture like you are saying "call me" with your thumb and pinkie... then point your pinkie at the person near you and wiggle your hand. It's a fun, Quakerly way of expressing non-verbal agreement!

Check on the eBay auction... Click below: You have until Monday!

F is for Fabric (and flowers)

After spending the better part of the weekend feeling like my project was out of control (how could I let it slip into the hands of those fools at PayPal!), I decided to revert back to some good old-fashioned Type-A sewing to regain my crafting karma.

I dusted off my Bernina machine, got out all of my fancy gorgeous fabrics, and checked myself into the SF Art Rehab clinic (my bedroom on 16th street.)

Two fabulous things flowered from this therapy session.

1. The Fabric Flower.

As I was going through my fabric (see above picture to understand the amazing-ness) I found the last scrap of my beloved artichoke print fabric!  Heaven!  So in a complete fit of crafting ADHD, I set my original piece aside and made this flower straight from my artichoke-heart.

Sidenote-  These button making thingies from Cliff´s Variety in the Castro (see below) are unbelievable.  I have never experienced such an amazingly incredible crafting tool.  They will literally blow your mind.

2. The Big Guy.

I will let the fabric magic speak for itsself:

Update on the eBay auction:  Two bids.  Let's give them some friendly competition!   You could get something like what you see above... Here's the link again:

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=160450196057#ht_569wt_967

E is for eBay!

Finally!  ¡Jesús! (pronounced Hay-SEUSS, like Dr. Seuss) The powers that be in eBay land were not appreciating my last-minute lifestyle.  PayPal!  You are a crafty mo-fo.  But two can play at that game.  Here it is... the long awaited E entry. So... this letter is a mixture of an activity and a destination, resulting in something crafty.  It’s the perfect storm of this project!  eBay started in the San Francisco Bay Area, therefore, I feel like I’ve gone somewhere local.

The only time I have ever used eBay was five years ago, when I bought a pair of those Nike sneakers with the separated big toe... remember those?  Yeah, I used them so little that I don’t even know where they are.  I mean, who can afford to buy the socks!?  But Alphabet Summer is all about taking on challenges and trying new things, so I must restore my faith in this website!   My dad buys actual Volkswagen cars on eBay!

So here’s the deal.  I am auctioning off a piece of art.  This piece of art does not exist yet.  Well, it WILL exist, but not until someone bids on it.

Go to this link:

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=160450196057#ht_569wt_967 This is a win-win situation for you!  I’ve started the bidding at 99 cents.  And if you add in the $5 shipping, you could end up getting a piece of original artwork by yours truly for only $6*!  For simply clicking and bidding.

*That's four whopping pounds for you Englishmen, and 4 euros 80 centimos in España.  Hello!?

You have one week.

May the alphabet be with you!

Keep tuning in for updates on the eBay-Alphabet summer fling!

D is for D.I.Y.

Back to my favorite Do It Yourself creative center of the moment, Workshop on McAllister (www.workshopsf.org) for Sewing 102, Alterations and Reconstruction. I have to admit, I went into this experience with a slight, if not severe sense of superiority (I can wind a bobbin in my sleep! Janome sewing machines!  I could almost hear Sue Nickels cringe!)  But as I looked down at my band-aid from Friday night screen printing (second degree burn, I might add), I remembered my humility.  Sure, I can make handbags and frilly fabric flowers.  I might be able to machine applique a sun onto a baby blanket (What’s up Olivia!?).  But... can I do anything useful for society?  Can I hem jeans for my short friends?  Can I finally fix that jacket for poor Chris that is gathering dust at the back of my closet?  The answer is, now I can!  DIY, baby!

Tonight, I learned the utmost important lesson in how to use my talents and give back to society: I can turn a pair of $8 wide-leg pants from the thrift store into skinny-leg pants.  And use the excess materials for a matching hipster headband.  Look out Valencia street!  All I need now is a pair of those pointy-toed tap shoes and big, ugly plastic framed glasses and I’m finally ready to fit in here.

It was a liberating experience.  We used chalk to mark lines, we guesstimated straight lines, and (Sue*, cover your ears!) we sewed over pins!  Turns out I’m not as Type A as I thought about sewing.  Thanks, Workshop!

Check out the DIY drama.

*If by some off-chance you’re reading this and you aren’t a friend or family (highly unlikely), yes, Sue Nickels is the world-famous quilter/ my mother.

C is for Castro.

No, not the Cuban revolutionary, and as much as I would love to write an “Ode to Isabel”, not her either. The Castro. At least I thought I was going to write about the Castro.  Well, correction, I did write about the Castro. I embarked upon a walking tour of my next-door neighborhood and world famous hotbed and headquarters of acceptance and rainbow flags.  How exciting!  My first destination piece of the summer. I wrote a thrilling, emotion-ridden piece where I preached my feelings about gay marriage and rejoiced in the wonderfulness of San Francisco and of tolerance in general.  It was exhilarating!  But then, shame on me, I committed the ultimate no-no in new blogger etiquette (and well, in life really.)  I had my professional (a.k.a. bossy) writer boyfriend Chris copyedit my writing.

Sigh.

In his fruitless search for missing commas, mixed-up clauses and poor punctuation (thanks, Middlebury!) he did manage to scavenge some, yes, constructively critical suggestions for improvement.  He wanted more of me in the writing.  Something interesting must have happened on your walk, he says.  Did your feet hurt while you were walking?  Did you embarrassingly drop a pair of edible underwear in front of a shop attendant? Well no, darling, it was just a normal walk into the Castro: I got a Phil’z coffee, a woman at the puppy adoption booth set up outside the B of A offered me some hand sanitizer, I pondered getting a manicure at the Hand Job nail salon, and then on my way up to the library I walked past a guy wearing a very revealing pair of running shorts (no underwear).  A relatively benign Castro experience if you ask me.

So, was it not interesting to go on a rant about Prop 8?  Am I not allowed to shout out to the world about gay rights?  He might find the mundane anecdotes about my neighborhood walk interesting to read, but surely a political statement is more thought-provoking.  But alas, he threw a brand new, blood-red sock into my load of white laundry, and there was no turning back.

Here’s to the Castro, to Chris, and to copyediting.

P.S. Enjoy the photos of my Castro-hopping.

P.P.S. If anyone wants to read the original, flawlessly written editorial, please let me know.

B is for Bags.

Bags.  When Claire and I first signed up for the screen printing class, deciding what I would print on was really a no-brainer for me.  Suze and Lorien would have automatically gone with a lightweight cotton t-shirt that cost about 4 euros from Bershka.  Me, a fancy canvas bag from American Apparel.

The mysterious secret behind all of those awesome indie t-shirts, bags and baby onesies was finally revealed to us at the Late Night Screen Printing class at Workshop (shout out to Kelly, owner and screen printing teacher. She is my new DIY role model! Check out www.workshopsf.org.)

Printing, just like all worthwhile things in life (such as learning languages and public transportation), is a humbling experience.  How much ink?  One pull or two?  Did I flood the screen?  Am I using an opaque ink for darker fabric? How did I manage to burn my thumb on the fabric oven-dryer contraption?  While I swear Claire and I really do have social skills, we found ourselves stuttering and unable to communicate with the other humans in the class.  Maybe it was because it was late on a Friday night and we were drinking cans of PBR.  Who knows.  But, feeling slightly more screen print-savvy than yesterday, I’m happy to be able to present my anatomical heart-printed canvas bag for you all to see.

I anatomical heart you all.

P.S.  Band-aids are Badass!

Minor battle scars. A small sacrifice for craftiness!

A is for Altered book!

Day one.  A new Altered book project!  I found a book at a thrift store in Berkeley a few weeks ago.  Newspapers brought back from Spain and Nicaragua.  Thanks to Molly and Tony for the Alterra coffee from Milwaukee!

As I was working on this, I giggled to myself remembering when I learned that the translucent goo that has become my crafting backbone is not called Modge-podge.  And then I remembered the hilarious Spanish pronunciation: Mod POD-HAY.

Recommended listening for the letter A?  This American Life, "Recordings for Someone."