The French quilt was coming along. I mean, I kept putting in more crops row by row… but it was feeling very flat, and not very interesting.
The apple trees were an improvement, for sure. More color, more texture.
Then your Grandpa Nelson looked over my shoulder and said, “Where are the sunflowers?” Hmmm. Sunflowers. Because I was impatient to see the quilt finished, I had designed the symbols for the crops to be one color, simple, and easy to sew.
But I LOVE sunflowers, and I don’t want them to be easy. I want them to be pretty.
And they are! I love how the rows look, bouncy and bright. Trouble is, they made the rest look even flatter by comparison.
It was time to step up my embroidery game. I started with the lavender fields by Angouleme, giving them more color and texture.
So now I have had to re-think every single crop to make it worthy of the sunflowers. So far, the wheat and barley fields are coming out nicely.
I am so glad I did! The artistic process isn’t fast, but it sure is interesting. I’ll keep you posted.
On my visits to Lone Fir Cemetery, I admire the lovely headstones. Some are more than 150 years old, others are from just a few years ago, but they all have their own style and beauty.
And many of them, sadly, are victims of time and neglect. Their surfaces have become pitted and worn, and their lettering is obscured by moss and dirt.
On my first trip to help, I took along the Friends of the Lone Fir recommended kit: Lots of water and a variety of plastic scrubbers and scrapers. I even wore gloves!
I poured on a lot of water to soften the crud, then used the plastic scraper to dislodge the heaviest moss encrustations.
More water and gentle scrubbing with a plastic brush revealed most of the lettering.
I used a wooden chopstick to get into the letters and numbers, but was frustrated by the numbers pressed into the concrete surround.
I wish they were clearer, because I’m sure they mean something. Maybe L23 and B21? When I ran out of oomph after an hour, I was pleased with how Byrd Hanley Andrew looked, and happy that I had done something to preserve this wonderful, fragile old place.
A few summers ago, Auntie Bridgett sold her art at the Quatorze Juillet Fête put on by the Alliance Français at Jamison Square.
When we were packing up, one of the organizers gave Bridgett two big bunches of lavender.
It was a lovely gesture, and the car smelled great on the way home.
That lavender has been sitting in two large vases in the front room ever since.
And with Halloween decorations going up, we decided it was time to process all that lavender goodness. It’s not a difficult process, but a bit fiddly.
The bits of stems and dried blossoms tend to fly everywhere. I plucked and rubbed with both hands over the biggest pan I have and still got seeds on the floor, the stovetop, and on the counter top across the way.
But after twenty minutes or so, those two huge bunches were scooped up and stored into three pretty jars to await their future in sachets for Christmas presents.
Now, I just need to decide what the sachets should look like. Crazy Patchwork? Embroidered? Painted? Maybe all three?
Ruthie Inman keeps getting my brain off on tangents! I’d complain, but I love it, and I always learn something.
Our latest wild goose chase started with telling her us to collect a zipper and some sturdy fabric, a hot glue gun and some acrylic paint. Easy enough.
The zipper came from a pillow that has been upcycled into a few other items already. The fabric was purchased years ago for a map quilt that didn’t need it. And the acrylics ( and the textile medium to make them work on fabric) were sitting in a box.
When I showed the fabric to Ruthie and Vimi (our parter in all things goofy and artsy), they said it reminded them of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”. I didn’t want to copy, but I held the image in my head as I painted and we chatted.
I liked the swirly lines I set up, and kept going as I got more confident.
By the time our session ended, the fabric was wet and sticky, and I needed to figure out my next step.
The next day, that next step was realized with more contrast. The short brush strokes remind me of Van Gough’s.
And then, because I’m a crazy woman with a needle and thread, I laid in a bunch of running stitches, sort of stringing the short stitches together and following the swirls.
And then, remembering about complementary colors, I started putting in some orange stitches.
You know how much I love visiting the dead folks at Lone Fir Cemetery!
Well, yesterday Auntie Bridgett and I joined a sketching group there. It was led by a lady named Jen whose full time job is elementary school teacher (just what I used to do!)
Jen is also a fan of Lone Fir, and wanted to find a way to earn some money to help maintain this fragile old space. She put a notice on The Friends of Lone Fir website, and people pay $10 a head to join the group. The money goes to Friends of Lone Fir, the same non-profit organization that runs the Twilight Tombstone tours I will be helping with later this month.
Being a ‘real’ teacher, Jen has a ‘real’ curriculum, this book by John Laws. It lays out a lot of steps and philosophy about nature jour along, and I’m sure it is a fine book.
But I was interested in a quick guide to start with. Once our group of thirty (!) people were gathered, Jen gave us just that.
She suggested quick info about day and weather and then prompts of “I notice” “I wonder” and “It reminds me of”, and really close looking at whatever you choose to draw. It could be a tree or a leaf, a patch of ground, or anything in the area.
“If you think it’s boring,” she said, “keep looking and you’ll be amazed how much you see.” We all went off to our own areas and had one hour to draw.
I chose this wonderful old chestnut tree by the rose garden. If I got far enough away to see the whole tree I’d miss the detail, so I could only draw part way up the trunk. I was fascinated by the dappled light and how the patches kept shifting as the sun went down behind me.
When our hour was up, we assembled back at the Soldier’s Memorial and did a “gallery walk” of everyone’s journals. I was impressed by the variety of drawings and the close observations.
We shared our experiences and said what we liked about other folks’ sketches. I liked that we were complimenting the sketch, not the artist… it was less personal, less embarrassing, and more meaningful.
We all enjoyed our time at the cemetery, and being able to share it with other folks made it even better. And next month, Auntie Bridgett and I get to join Jen and the sketchers again!
When we moved from Salinas to Portland seven years ago, we brought way too many books. I mean, we loved them, but they just wouldn’t fit in our new house. We sold what we could to second hand shops and gave dozens more away to local libraries.
Eventually, we culled down our collection to much-loved books that would fit in our space. Compromise triumphed, and Peace was at hand.
But they kept coming in! Years of Birthday gifts, book shop purchases and Tiny Free Library finds trickled in, squeezing into spaces, and before we knew it, we were up to our literary eyebrows in books again.
Time to cull some more. Over many weeks, I pulled books off the shelves and into a box in the garage. One box became two, and it was time.
Auntie Bridgett and I chose a bright, dry day, loaded up the wagon, and headed down to Belmont Books. Joe will pay cash for books, but is more generous with store credit. And, though it sets of a self-perpetuating cycle, we take it.
Because, you know… books. A cumbersome, but mostly harmless, addiction.
After the Belmont Street Fair ended with rain, we had a weird Summer redux week of sunshine and warm weather. My garden’s lettuces kicked back into gear, more tomatoes got ripe, and the last dahlias bloomed.
Then Wednesday, it all broke loose again. A sprinkle caught Grandpa Nelson as he walked to Zach’s for lunch, and by the time Auntie Bridgett and I wanted to get out of the house, it was a deluge!
Still, we bundled up, layered on the hats and water-repellant coats, and headed out.
I do love the world when it is wet and drippy… fresh, shiny, and always moving. The wind and rain takes dust from the air and trees and just washes it away.
In our neighborhood, this means lovely rippled rivers as gutters flow into bioswales. The bioswales hold the rainwater and let it filter slowly into the aquifer, keeping our Willamette River clean.
I was appreciating all this engineering as my coat was soaking through and my completely-inadequate sneakers filled with water. “I’m turning around at the next corner,” Bridgett said. I agreed.
Because an adventure is only an adventure if you live to tell about it.
One thing I love about living in Portland is that you never know what you’re going to find. In our time here, we have “stumbled upon” Shakespeare’s plays being performed at Lone Fir Cemetery, comedy shows and Johnny Franco’s music at Laurelhurst Park, and Jazz trio performing on somebody’s front porch.
Last evening, we were coming home after a longer-than-expected walk, just a few blocks from home, when we noticed people forming a crowd in the middle of the street by Sunnyside School’s playground.
It was too quiet for a political demonstration, and everyone seemed to be settling in for a show of some sort. Camp chairs and take out containers were in evidence.
Taking a closer look, we noticed a small amplifier set up by an open window of a re-purposed industrial building. A home-made sign hanging below the window spelled out HEY POET LAUREATE!!
Turns out, this was a semi-regular concert by these two folks. Danielle has a sweet singing voice, and Kyle plays guitar and harmonizes with Danielle. There was some mention of an old Poet Laureate ‘passing the torch’ to the new one, but I didn’t understand it. I didn’t want to bother anyone for details during the show.
As I said, we were returning from a long walk, and my feet were letting me know it was time to head home. We listened for a bit longer and headed out. We saw Steph from Happy Anyway and her buddy Jen in the crowd, so we know who we can ask.
Portland always has something going on, you just need to get out and look for it! Love,
That big skeleton we got has been inspiring all sorts of shenanigans. He’s been rocking out with my new headphones, or maybe he is studying French on Duolingo, like the rest of us.
Since he is as big as a human adult, he can sit at the table. (Looks to me like the service is pretty slow around here…)
But he did get in on all the tasty baking going on!
It was a perfect Fall day Sunday, so Auntie Bridgett and I walked out to see the sights.
We found a whole bunch of Halloween-y yards! Just above Laurelhurst Park, this cheerful skeleton welcomes you to his graveyard. My favorite headstone reads, “I Told You I Was Sick.”
As we headed north across Burnside, we nearly a dozen or so inflated decorations all in one yard! This dragon had a tiny motor that made his wings flap. Very cool.
These three witches (Thanks, Mr. Macbeth!) looked more friendly than scary, as did their bulldog.
But the detached giant hand? Definitely creepy. Ditto the eyeball-stealing ghost.
And there, keeping an eye on everything, was this OSU baseball rooting skeleton.
I love that everyone is getting an early start on Halloween decorations! It gives us more time to find them all.
Dear Liza 