Back to business

Well, it's been a while since I've posted. I've had excuses to be away from the sewing machine. We got lovely new windows in the sewing room, but that meant that my table was down for a while. Well, a week.

Then there was a great doll. She's still great, but I can't seem to get her finished. The pattern didn't work the way I wanted it to. I have to make another arm... Sigh.What I've been doing lately is a lot of hand sewing. I've been making felties again, and really enjoying them. There's something about the simplicity of them that I love. Every time I stitch a face, I try to make it as expressive as I can, and try to find different ways to do that. I love to make a simple face that looks like it's about to tell a story.

The little guy above, for example is saying, I know my teeth are Sharp, but I don't look hungry, do I? I'm really friendly.....

And then there's this little guy. He's obviously a Micheal Jackson impersonator, right? But he's got the jacket, and the hair. Both of little creatures are from felties books by Nicola Tedman. They are fantastic patterns, which are easily adapted, which is what I did, rather than try to trace them. I love the detail of the Micheal Jackson Thrilla, but my hair turned out a little big. I love that between the eyes and the mouth, it really does look like the dancing zombie.

I'm sort of sick of my sewing machine. I'm hoping that these little bits of whimsy will push me back up there. Before it gets too cold....

And the kits all say hello. They miss you. And think you should bring them treats.
Now.

Cleaning

I've cleaned off my sewing table. It's not perfect, that's for sure, but everything is Put Away for a change. I even found the foot pedal that goes to my good machine, so the portable is taking a rest and I'm back to normal. Almost.

I've had a doll in my head for a while. She's a little curvy, and I keep seeing her with a carpet bag. Enter my friend Paul who, at some point, randomly sent me a box full of upholstery scrapes. Blues and greens mostly, with some reds. The scraps are all pretty small, because, I'm guessing they were samples. So, yesterday I began cutting the doll out of her muslin, and sewing the body peices together. I got as far as stuffing the torso and the head, and I knew I didn't have anything for clothes. But then I remembered the box. Spreading the scrapes out on my ironing board, I found a velvet for the skirt with flowers and a castle, and a scrap of bright green for the bodice. Then I remembered a dragonfly scarf that I never wear that would work for the blouse and underskirt.

Have I gotten to the carpet bag yet? Not yet. But this doll is going to be amazing. Her story is coming right a long with the clothes. I know so far that she will be called "Give me your Dreams."

And I have an idea of what is going to be in that carpet bag of hers.....

Maybe pictures soon. For now, say hi to the kits.

Chaos

Good Morning. It's seven o'clock on your day off. This is the first living thing you encounter. No, not the cat. His tail. And hind end. You know those dinosaurs that had a brain in their tails to operate them because they were so big? Figaro has that same thing. The problem is, in his case the brains plot against each other. And me. Unfortunately you can't see the full effect, because what his tail-brain is doing is swishing the tail UNDER my iron while I'm trying to iron the piece. Yep. It's seven AM on a Saturday and the tail-brain of the cat feels that we should go to the emergency vet. Which doesn't help fill this purse order.

Now his head-brain is getting into the act, trying to school the tail. None of this appears helpful to me, does it? Appearances can be deceiving though. I've found, over the years, that a certain level of chaos actually helps me make stuff.

Now, this is like kryptonite to others. I've mentioned my Mother. She can't stand to even enter my sewing room, it's so stacked up with random stuff. Check out the boxes and bags behind Fig. Yep, I'm not sure what's in them, but I know I'll probably need them some day... My poor roommate is similarly afflicted. She has to share the place with me. I don't disagree that organization has it's place, it's just that for me it doesn't work. I wouldn't blame her if she put a line of tape down the middle of the place.

But for now I work in sort of a rag bag, with a cat on my head most of the time. I do envy those people in the magazines with beautiful work spaces with lots of storage, all color coordinated and stuff, but I need things where I can see them. Within easy reach. If I put my stuff in cupboards, I'd forget about it. How do you work best? Everything in its place and a place for everything? Or are you more like me, super cluttered like a grab bag table in a church basement? Do you have a partner in crime, or do you have the place to yourself?

Discuss.

Or sew.

So this is one of the cats. Yes, of course I have three. Figero is the teenager cat, and so, of course, he helps me sew. Someday when I actually clean off my sewing table, I'll put up a picture of the window in front of it. In the winter that window was a curse, because it was soooo cold. Now it's amazing. The light is the reason we bought the house. Anyway... Right. Cat. Fig is a little hyper, but he's not stupid, so I often find him sprawled out on his back on the table, soaking in sunlight. The problem comes when he wakes up. As you can see, he's very, very sneaky. And plots against me. He's part magpie, and has a fondness for doll heads, and god help me, doll boobs. He's always stealing them and stuffing them under the stove downstairs. I know. I don't know why.... At any rate, I just thought you'd like to see what I'm up against.

mart

Welcome to Nice Tattoo's Craft-a-palozza!!

I blame Walgreen's for this one. They have this bin of dollar socks now, and I can't seem to walk past them without picking one up. I have a fondness for the sock creatures, because they have no rules. Or, rather, their rules are bendable, and so I never know what they're going to look like until I'm done. As I was hunting for buttons for his eyes, my roommate said, "He needs hair. He's ugly."

Well, I thought that was pretty judgemental, but I humored her. Instead of yarn, I shredded a left over sock part and sewed it on. He's sort of a tiki-esque monster, don't you think?

The unexpected is always welcome when I'm working. My very first memory of being with my Mother, is of being in the cart, in line to get fabric cut. She made everything, curtains, clothes. She even made some of our underwear in the '70's. Raise your hand if you remember Stretch-and-Sew. She taught me a love of fabric, and passed on her weakness for buying a piece "because it's so pretty."

What she couldn't teach me was a love of patterns. She tried. She tried to get me to measure, to pin. When I inherited my first sewing machine, a White in a big cabinet that had a need pedal rather than a foot pedal, she bought cut-outs for me to make as gifts. Alice in Wonderland, I still remember. The pattern was right there, I just had to guide my needle around the curvy parts. And clip the corners, and stuff to just the right hardness....

They were all good lessons, and so were the ones that followed, like, ironing all the pattern pieces out so it was easier to pin. And pinning. Yuck, pinning.

Now, my poor Mother is a big fan of my sewing, but like my writing, she doesn't really want to know where I came up with things. I do use patterns, to a point, but I'll never been one to lay everthing out on the table and pin, and cut, and unpin, and clip, and.... No, I like my stuff much simpler than that. So the monsters. They all start out the same way, but then, somewhere along the line, they surprise me.