What I'm playing with today: scraps of a linen jacket, Doug's striped shirt, a piece left from making a linen dress for Adeline, a pair of linen pants, some lovely vintage polka dots ... crosses, circles, blue, squares ... linen, stripes, patterns ... groups of three, groups of nine ... some of these elements we find since the beginning of time.
I don't know where I'm headed with this, but I assume I'll get there. Sooner or later.
"A FRIEND TO TAKE WITH YOU WHEREVER YOU GO"
Here is another thing I like to make - the Sewing Pocket. Some call it a Sewing Fold-Over. Some call it a Sewing Roll-Up; in fact that's what I call it, although I rarely make one that actually does roll up. When you open one up it has a pincushion as part of the inside, and a pocket. I generally include a nice pair of stainless steel folding scissors in the pocket, just for fun. I love my personal roll-up. It is so handy to take with, whether I'm headed for the family room, a friend's house, or the local coffee shop. It holds pins, needles, extra thread, scissors, and some buttons. Fantastic for travel. What more do I need?
Here are some of the pinkeeps I've made with my recycled, felted wool. They are about 2.5 - 3.5 inches across. I enjoy making these. They are just a perfect size to hold in the palm of your hand. And lots of fun to look at - - I have some hanging as "art" instead of using them to hold sewing pins!
When I started making things from felted wool (which I process from recycled sweaters and blankets), about 12 or so years ago, I made lots and lots of bags. I don't have many good photos of them - it was pre-digital camera time for me. I do have some nice shots of this more recent bag I made - with my favorite motifs of birds and stars. This was a custom order, made for someo
ne whose last name actually is Starbird. How's that for a perfect coincidence? I had a lot of fun making this bag. I hope you enjoy it too. Above is what I think of as the front of the bag and to the right (below) is the back. It is made entirely from my felted wool and hand stitched with wool tapestry thread. The drawstrings are also from wool yarn, which I first knit into a cylindrical cord, and then felt along with the sweaters.
Speaking of Star Birds, you just must go see
Einstein, The Amazing Talking Parrot
. He's a kick, and he's pretty much guaranteed to put a smile on your face.
"For my part, I know nothing with any certainty but the sight of the stars makes me dream." ~Vincent van Gogh
I love to make stars: stars to hang from hooks, stars to wear in your hair, stars to pin on your jacket, stars to wear around your neck, stars to string across a window or wrap around a tree, and stars to hang on a wall.
I make my stars out of thick wool felt. I don't buy my felt, and I don't make it from raw sheep's wool, either. I make it from old, abandoned sweaters and blankets - items that have been discarded by their owners. I get my sweaters from tag sales, and generous friends, yard sales and The Salvation Army. Somewhere I even have a Goodwill Industries "frequent shopper" card.
The piece shown here, "Starry Squares," is a wall hanging I made. It is about 28" x 20." Doing a piece like this involves a lot of cutting and a lot of stitching, with heavy wool thread.
When I am in heavy-duty work mode, my hands get strong, my arms and shoulders ache, and my finger tips get calloused from all the needle pricks. You wouldn't want to hold hands with me. But I love doing it. I love working with the wool that comes to me with a history of its own. I love putting all those lives together - each piece from a different place, another kind of life.
"One summer night, out on a flat headland, all but surrounded by the waters of the bay, the horizons were remote and distant rims on the edge of space. Millions of stars blazed in darkness, and on the far shore a few lights burned in cottages. Otherwise there was no reminder of human life. My companion and I were alone with the stars: the misty river of the Milky Way flowing across the sky, the patterns of the constellations standing out bright and clear, a blazing planet low on the horizon. It occurred to me that if this were a sight that could be seen only once in a century, this little headland would be thronged with spectators. But it can be seen many scores of nights in any year, and so the lights burned in the cottages and the inhabitants probably gave not a thought to the beauty overhead; and because they could see it almost any night, perhaps they never will." - Rachel Carson