like bubbles through a sieve

So Monday (April 21) was my birthday. I’m 29. And holding. Anyway, I was working on a different project and mentioned it to my partner in crime, Suzy. Today she sent me the most gorgeous doll she’s made yet, based upon my other project:

I was so delighted I squealed like the fangrrrl that I am.

So in case you’re wondering, yes, I’m going to chart it. No, I’m not going to offer it for sale. This one’s for me, but I will post WIP progress pictures.

Thank you, Suzy!

I’m not a collector. At least, not in the usual sense. I collect three things. One I limit because it was at the “right” size for me (and it’s got a total of 6 big things, which are all being actively used in my household; and 6 very small things, which are put away because I have small children and the small things are tchotchkes anyway). One is infinitesimally small and I can fit into it as much crap as I want. One fits tidily in a space that I have dedicated to it and also, it’s tax deductible.

Otherwise, I like space, freedom to move, less stuff, and decluttering. Decluttering is my life. I don’t think I’ll be truly satisfied until this house is empty and we’re sitting on mats and sleeping on low platforms. The older I get the more I’m attracted to that clean 1960s postmodern look.

Of course, this is a pipe dream. My kids have toys and outgrown clothes. Ick. I can’t wait until they outgrow all this crap and I can get rid of it to the first person who might give a hint of a whiff of a suggestion that they want it all. I have even discovered that my almost-5-year-old daughter’s behavior improves dramatically when her environment is uncluttered. She has a bed in her room. That’s about it.

My goal when I die is that I have very little of STUFF for my children to dispose of.

…was good for Effervescent Designs. It was fun and frightening all at the same time, seeing as how I’ve never done a trade show before. There are quite a few shops willing to take a chance on a new designer, and for that I’m grateful.

I think what will remain with me for the next little while is that yesterday, while filling orders, it occurred to me that this was the most fun I’d had working in a long, long while. I fell into bed last night exhausted and more satisfied with a day’s work than I have in a long time.

Why, no, I haven’t added anything new in almost a year. How could you tell?

I knew I’d be bad at this blogging stuff. I always mean to keep a journal, but then I don’t and, well, you know, content is King. This post on craft is something I’ve been working on for a long time, trying to gel my thoughts and sift through how I really feel about it.

My question:

What’s the difference between an artiste and a craftsman, and is one better than another? I ask myself this on a daily basis because I finally came to the conclusion that I am not, and I am never going to be, an artiste. I’m a craftsman and I must be happy with that.

My original premise was as follows:

Artistes come up with original ways to solve the same ol’ problem. Craftsmen implement existing ideas.

Not sure I believe this now. I’ve spent the better part of the last year writing something that’s been cooking in my head for 14 years. It’s a riff off Hamlet, which was, in itself, a riff off someone else’s work, so is what I did art or craft? I took someone else’s framework and decorated it with vines and flowers and thorn bushes and other more savory and unsavory things, but in the end, I didn’t create the framework.

In terms of needlework, I’ve taken a completely unrelated art (pixel dollz) and translated it into fabric and floss and beads. Is that art or craft? Suzy’s skill at creating the dollz gave me the original framework. I just dressed it up with fabric and floss and beads.

I don’t have an answer to this question anymore. Yes, I used to, but now I think there has to be a measure of both art and craft (skill) involved in each, most likely at different percentages along the spectrum.

Not just anyone can do what Suzy does. I can’t. Not just anyone can do what I do. Suzy can’t. Is that a difference between art and craft (skill)? Dunno, but I will say this: Without Suzy, there would be no needlework dollz at all. At least, not from me, and I depend on her art to give mine wings. Perhaps I’m more craftsman than artist after all.

So here’s what’s been happening over at my house:

I’d like to thank Kay Jones for stitching Water Goddess and Mlle Musketeer for me, and Melanie Johnson for stitching Yo Ho Ho. Fabulous jobs, ladies!

For the next little while, I’m planning to work exclusively on Suzy’s dollz to bring you a good selection of something new, different, and exciting (okay, at least to me) in needlework patterns. I may slip in a sampler a la Les Tuileries

here and there because I like geometrics, but really, the dollz are just too irresistible not to continue with them.

You know where you are thinking about too many things at once, and you share those things and get tons of feedback on each one?

And you know how when all that feedback comes at you at once, your ears start to leak and your brain explodes?

I’m going to go take a nap.

I’m going to tell you a story that is true. It happened in 1998 or 1999. I did someone wrong, and in trying to put it aright, I am now going to do something fairly daring.

Begin story:

In 1998 or thereabouts, I met a fantasy artist at the Kansas City Renaissance Festival. I was immediately taken with her art and asked her if she wanted to be “charted” for counted cross stitch, and I explained what that was. She said yes and gave me a print as prepayment (which is its own irony). I went home and promptly began to work on one of her pieces. However, the software I had at the time and my lack of skill/training to make a good chart made it nearly impossible.

I must have charted and re-charted that piece 20 times. I started stitching it 4 or 5 times and finally gave up in frustration because I could not create a good combination of “fun to stitch” and quality representation of her artwork. I emailed her and told her of this brick wall I had run into, but for whatever reason, I never heard back from her.

I have always felt that I was not as honorable as I could have been in following up with her and making sure that she understood where I was with it. All these years, the partially stitched canvases sat folded in my cabinet, reminding me of my inability to accomplish this task, and alas, I no longer have the print. This has always been a blemish on my conscience.

Two years ago, I finally realized a dream of mine that began with my asking her if she wanted to be charted. I bought good software and learned how to use it. I learned that I was supposed to pay the artist for the right to chart the art and have done so faithfully. I also charted my own designs and am selling them (as you all know).

Charting previously existing artwork is a very difficult, time-consuming, and painstaking task which I didn’t understand in 1998. I grossly underestimated the time and effort it would take. It isn’t as simple as running the art through the program. It requires making the chart fun to stitch and keeping the integrity of the artwork intact. Now that I know better, I spend hundreds of hours refining a chart before I even begin to stitch and then I (or another skilled stitcher) spend thousands of hours stitching to further refine (usually quite drastically) the final work and the chart.

So, with a few things under my belt, I felt emboldened to tackle this piece of hers again after so many years. I had kept the graphic file in the expectation I would return to it after I had learned what I needed to know, and I took an entirely different approach than I had before.

The art? Faery Ring.
The artist? Nene Thomas
The appropriate attribution and copyright link? Here.
The finished piece? Voila:

Cheryl Flanders did the magnificent and painstaking work of stitching this piece.
Lori Armold of Enchanted Fabrics hand dyed the fabric it was stitched upon.

I hope that Ms. Thomas can forgive me for not following through on my end of our bargain.

Susanne Ohlsson did the art.

I did the chart.

She’ll be officially released for sale July 4. We both hope you like her as much as we do.

Yeah, this?

Not happening. I’ve scrapped it in this incarnation. Last night, as I was playing with it, trying to get it to some semblance of order, I came up with something completely new, yet retaining the integrity of what I had in mind.

Let’s hope this goes better than that last one.

I spent today mending my children’s (and my) toys. The monkey was pooping Fiberfil. The wolf-whistling lovebug (mine) had been laundered and needed to be re-stuffed and wolf-whistling mechanism put back in place. The talking teddy bear was out of batteries, as was the Glowworm. They all needed stuffing and sewing repair in one form or another. In gauging how much Fiberfil to put back in these creatures, it got me to thinking about a person I know who had made bears for some members of my family and how she stuffed them.

I prefer my animals to be a little bit loosey goosey¹. They’re so much more cuddly, comforting, and welcoming that way. I tend to not care so much for the bears that are stuffed solid as a rock, which scream, “Lookie–no touchie!”

This person I know stuffs dolls and bears so tight and solid that there is absolutely no give; thus, they’re not for touching or playing with. They’re for decoration². And that pretty much sums up her personality: No cuddling. No comfort. No give. No warmth.

I wonder what my dolls would say about me?

¹Caveat: I don’t much care for stuffed animals at all, and have just spent the last month paring my children’s stuffed toys down to an acceptable two or three each. It’s just too much, really, and I don’t think any child should have that much.

²Yeah, I don’t like knickknacks, either, especially ones that don’t have a strong personal meaning or emotional attachment.

Yes, we’re jumping the gun on Christmas, but at least we gave you a good bit of time:

Click here to order.

Kay Jones stitched the lovely model, and I really want to thank her for doing such a wonderful job–and so quickly, too!

If there was ever an organization I’d be more than willing to donate my time to if I didn’t have small children, it’d be this one. (It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten a job, paying or not, for the express purpose of learning some skill I wanted to learn.)

In any case, today I have found out two very important pieces of information:

1. Where to take my old crappy paint (i.e., NOT to HfH)
2. That Habitat for Humanity takes reasonably nice construction materials donations and they pick your stuff up

We moved into this house and the owner had left the paint and labeled it as to which room it belonged to, which was really nice, but it was 14-1/2 years old. There’s the ceramic tile they left, which I am not going to use; HfH says they don’t want outdated tile, but it’s so old it’s come back IN style now. There’re carpet remnants, too, of which I am not thrilled. (And even if I were, I daren’t do anything more than shampoo the carpets before my small wrecking crew has gone–preferably far away–to college.) And that’s not even to mention the vanity and shower door I pulled out of the bathroom.

Re bathroom: Demolition is going slowly. I got a Craftsman tool chest for, well, no particular holiday at all but I tell everybody it’s my Mother’s Day present. So I’ve been doing my next-to-favorite thing in the whole world: organizing and getting rid of crap. (I’ll let you figure out what my favorite thing in the whole world is because this is a family blog.) I find I really can’t work very well with an unorganized space biting at my heels. It screws up my Zen.

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