Tweety boyrd

My love is like a tweety bird,
It sits up high anon -
With furly wings and purty things
I wish I had got done.

It's time I know to see the light
I'm almost out, have lost the fight
To post a day
There's just no way
Weekend again has taken flight.

My love is like a whirly bird
Of thought and colour and song!
To draw and dream and spin a wheel
And run around in the sun.


I've been out on my bike today, checking out the streets and smelling the jasmine in old gardens caught in roadside glimpses as I swander by (yes, that's a word. It's for cycling slowly and looking at the sky!). I saw a house that looked like it came straight from Yorkshire, plomped down in the middle of Richmond. Tall gables for that snow we so often get in Melbourne, oh and the sleeting rain. High blue stone walls and green-sashed windows. I need to go back to take a photo.

My friend is house-sitting and the house-sat cat tried to eat my sewing bag, too. Much careful investigation and sniffing. Is this a suggestion I ought to wash it? (I might - now!)

Memory

Memory feeds imagination. 

Amy Tan 

US novelist (1952 - )

1977. Or so the picture says. I remember the garden and how it went forever. When I wanted to run away, I packed a bag with the essentials (doll, bear), and I ran off to the end of the hedge. Not on the driveway side: the other side, just so I could stay inside the garden but look back at the house. Too far away. I think that's far enough: I'll go back now. 

I'm the one on the left, at about that age. Lovely sardonic sister on the right. (Big sis, how did you know everything?)

This week after the last class of my editing course, a bunch of us were splitting a bottle of red wine down at the bar around a chunky dark wood table. One of the classmates said; "Tell us about something you saw on your travels. Something that really stays with you. That was unexpected and surprising". 

The result was an amazing storytelling session, with wonderful flights of description and fascination. Memories shared. All the senses. The silly things we do. Moments of mistaken irony, surprising gorgeousness, startling and unexplained. Painted word pictures. Such imagination, memory. 

Aren't you glad we've got it?

Flashback Friday portrait

One of the magazines I love to read is called History Today. We get it from the UK on subscription, and it's chock-full of images and articles about interesting times and people. I love reading it for the unexpected things I'll find.

This is a drawing I did after a portrait miniature in the last issue. He's my Friday flashback.

Fashionable cats...

Now fashionable cats, they know their mind.

They like a bit of black.

A swishy tail.

And if they happen to be fat red-and-white stripey softy Antonio Banderas cats, they like to dress as pirates and thrill the ladies....

(Softie made for Sharon, because Flickettysplits was amazed I'd never made one. )

So, today...

Today, moments after I was introduced to her, a colleague said,
"I'm doing something for the Melbourne Cup".

And I said, "Melbourne Cup?"

"Oh," I said, "I'm not that much into football."

Which might reveal just how much I'm into horse racing, too....

Travel to textiles, take away inspiration

Today was a day to be marked on the calendar.

No, not 'the day before Mr Tacc's birthday and last chance to buy a present', nor 'nice Saturday' -- today was the Open Day for the Textile Fibre Forum at Geelong.

Some of you may remember that I went last year and was startled and amazed at what I found.

The Forum is like summer camp for over-excited girls who love fibre. It's a haven of creativity, a fun week of intensity, an institution, a revelation, a colourful holiday, better than a trip to a resort, essential.

I heard it described as all of these things today as we wandered the grounds of the school, looking at what the talented participants had made over the course of a week of red-hot creative production.

It's a conference for fibre-a-holics, put on by TAFTA. On the last Saturday, each class puts on a display of their week's productions.

So this morning, bright and (far too) early, Karen and Sonia picked me up and off we went. A road trip. Whee! Watch me fall asleep in the back seat, get giddy with delight at being out and on textile treasure hunts again. (Thanks, Karen, for reminding me not to leave my coffee mug on top of the car when we drove away...)

It was one of those days.......

Distracting,

inspiring,

exhausting,
colourful.

There were beautiful, delicate  embellished pieces of felt:

In all sorts of colours.

 

Printed fabric, dyed and glorious.

 

Some had made clothes from the inspired textile pieces they had crafted.

If there was one thing I wanted dearly to wear, it was this dress/coat!

 (Don't worry, I'd wear black coverups underneath or it would not be art, it would be chaos in a bag.)

Speaking of chaos, getting crazy in the kitchen, one class made Domestic Goddess aprons for a frenzy of cake baking. These aren't tame little coverup aprons: they're definitely for the goddess who licks the bowl and loves it. Mmm!

 

Given the recent production around here of the Chocolate Cake Hall of Fame, I was partial to this cake-themed apron. Go, girl!

I love how the recipes on this apron randomly show through the blackboard-style scribbles.

Never ones to go without accessories, handbags were in evidence. These lovelies got nicknamed 'killer handbags' for their velvet-covered knockout-anvil style crazy beauty. 

Sort of wild and chemically pumped all at the same time.

(I wouldn't eat those strawberries if I were you, Bambi...)

The sun shone:

The traders kindly sold us buttons and felt, beads and yarn (well, would you resist?)

It was exhausting and inspiring -- and I was only there for 4 hours!

And now I'm going to go and put my feet up while I dream of colour.

Thursday blue: what to do?

It's Thursday night, you've got a case of the blahs. Too much to do, too little time, stuff harassing you, things you're not getting stuck into even though you really want to.

Sometimes the blue sky seems like a steel lid: other days it's up there floating and everything is possible.

What do you do on evenings like that?

Start a new quilt. (Silly question!)

Stitch in some sunshine, pull out a length of fresh breezes, grab some fat quarters of freshly-mown grass and lazy spring picnics. Stitch together a summery sky.

There, now that's better, isn't it?

Arise, Blogtoberfest! A Pome.

I wandered lon'ly as a blog,

Crafting slowly through the fog

Of work and life and lots of things

But -Hark! O'er there! A clear note rings! 

Raise high the bugle,

Tootle the horn.

Trumple the tuba --

Blogtoberfest is born!

Craft love, appear

again this year.

Trailing clouds of glorious

Ricrac stentorious!

Mascots and memes

And silly schemes

Let forth the host,

of Blogtoberfest posts!

Marmot vom Großglockner
Originally uploaded by _stebo_