at work

So I've been working in my studio. Trying to get accustomed to saying that so I don't feel so pretentious whilst saying, or even thinking, it. A new series, Prayers on the River, inspired by aarti, the Hindu prayer ceremony that concludes with celebrants placing flowers and candles in little boats and setting them afloat on the Ganges River. I have two more panel ideas and a triptych-like thing in my head, and then I'll see where it goes next. Not my most original or innovative offering, but a beginning of something.

Prayers on the River (1)
11 inches x 18 inches (width x height)
commercial prints and batik, machine stitched,
metallic and variegated threads, agate chips

Meanwhile, Beau is confused and searching for a comfortable place to hang out in the studio. He's going to be very disappointed when this rack goes away. I'll have to find something for him.

low on toner

We all know how that can be.

Up on other things, though.
I've been wanting to try making fabric mosaics, and I think I may take advantage of the upcoming FiberArts for a Cause fundraiser to give it a go. Yesterday, whilst flipping through magazines, I had a cheery little idea that involves childlike drawings of houses and bright colors that I think would support a series/edition of 10.

What?
Yes. I did say "colors" and also "bright colors."
Yes, you're in the right blog -- home of the queen of "is this white too . . . vibrant?" Sometimes I even surprise myself.
So anyway, I'm all excited and will now go Act on My Excitement. But I knew you'd want to be the first to know. . .

progress 1

A dull but productive day. Did laundry.
Beau helped with the sorting.

Patches folded.

And Halloween could tell I was up to something, so he gave me "that look" and disappeared before I could suggest that he pitch in.

And I made good progress on the next quadrant of the "shoveling out the big room" project, but not enough
to brandish photos. Maybe tomorrow.

island of sanity

I took advantage of the long weekend to make some little progress on the massive sorting-purging-tidying process that is a constant in my life just now. I have achieved a small island of sanity in the necessary chaos:I had been using a table with no drawers as a desk for way too long. So I came to my senses and re-established the desk as a desk, as opposed to "a handy surface upon which to pile stuff whilst trying to decide what to do with and about everything." These drawer things are amazing -- have you heard about these? -- I can stuff a lot of my stuff in the drawers, close them, and then mirable dictu! all the stuff is still at hand but the top of the desk is relatively clear and open and suitable for use as a napping spot for Beau.

This is Beau:
Beau showed up in the yard one day, hunkered and screaming. The screaming misled me into thinking "This is one mean junkyard dog of a cat." But Beau was mostly terrified and, when translated, the screaming went something like Pleaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeassssssssssssssssse Hellllllllllllllllllllllp Mmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Now Beau is a house cat. In this photo from the transition, you may be able to tell from his expression that he was still a little uncertain of What Just Happened. But he swiftly got into the swing of being inside and has become an indispensable member of the household.

Beau helped me revise my syllabus:
pitches in with the vacuuming
[aka hoovering, for my overseas friends]
is an enthusiastic mouser
adventurous
and a perceptive critic although his attention span is not all it might be
And now I have some serious work to do, so I will turn my back on the rest of the room -- which, quite obviously, is still in transition and have at it.
Being a virtuous sort, I did throw out that bag of shredded paper featured in the foreground. The Queen of Industry, that's me. . .

Excelsior, mes amis. Ever and always, excelsior.

hard to find good help

This is Beau.
Beau showed up in the yard one day, hunkered and screaming. The screaming misled me into thinking "This is one mean junkyard dog of a cat." But Beau was mostly terrified and, when translated, the screaming went something like Pleaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeassssssssssssssssse Hellllllllllllllllllllllp Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Now Beau is a housecat. You may be able to tell from his expression that he was still a little uncertain of What Just Happened.

Today Beau is helping me clean.

His role (self-appointed) is to sit in the middle of the carpet and make sure it doesn't get away. The carpet, of, course, is smack inthe middle of the path between the two main areas I hoped to Make Neat.

Cats are a great mystery.

another quarter is heard from

This is Patches. He has an anxiety disorder. Really. About a year ago, he decided he'd had enough of being a yard cat and was going to be a house cat. He seems to have adapted.

Funny how that works.

Requiscat in pace

April may not have been the cruellest month, but it's not one that I'll recall with ease or fondness. My much cherished, 14-year-old cat developed liver disease, and it was touch-and-go all month as to whether she'd pull through. She didn't. Now I understand more completely why a witch's cat is called her familiar. Rest in peace, Chessie cat.

And now, back to work.

On the up side, regarding work, 8 of the 10 pieces I made for Virginia Speigel's Fiber Arts for A Cause have found homes (one is going to Scotland ! ) and -- all told, and more to the point -- FFAC raised $12,000 in two days for the American Cancer Society.

I did my bit by purchasing a lovely piece by Nellie Durand called "Hope."

Until I can figure out how to link and/or upload stuff, you can check it out on her blog (May 4 post): http://nelliedurand.blogspot.com/