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A little golden light for a rainy, grey day. It's pretty cold out there, but at least there's only a month to go before spring now. That is a very happy thought.
I had today at home, and I made a few new things for my shop. A yellow rose purse and a cushion cover with some native birds, and a map of important places. And on the way home from school, the kids helped me pick these wild (mustard?) flowers from the pavement.
I hope you're having a golden Tuesday.
The sun came out this morning, and when I was joyfully hanging out the washing, I found this miniature daffodil under the trampoline. Silly old daffodil.
Today was National Poetry Day. I celebrated by reading from this book on the bus, attending a poetry reading at a book shop, writing a poem at a street stall promoting creative writing, and spent five minutes listening to an enthusiastic guy on the street shout out his impromptu ode to biscuits.
Here is my favourite Janet Frame poem, to mark the occasion.
I take into my arms more than I can bear to hold
I take into my arms more than I can bear to hold
I am toppled by the world
a creation of ladders, pianos, stairs cut into the rock
a devouring world of teeth where even the common snail
eats the heart out of a forest
as you and I do, who are human, at night
yet still i take into my arms more than I can bear to hold.
- Janet Frame, from The Goose Bath poems, Vintage, 2006.
A windy, rainy stomp home from school this afternoon inspired a bit of chocolate mixing and whisking- the nicest thing to drink in the depths of winter, we think. I first wrote about this a couple of years ago here- and I used a recipe from an old copy of The Vegetarian Epicure, by Anna Thomas. I modified the recipe a bit, but it's basically this one.
And speaking of chocolate, I think these 'building blocks' look rather lovely. Might have to make those next.
This is a little crystals pouch I made for Tom's cousin, who turned 11 this weekend. She is really into crystals and gemstones, as are my kids, so A and K chose her a few and we made a little safekeeping pouch for them from silk. This silk was printed with the end-of-a-pencil eraser and some yellow ink. A wooden button and ribbon fastens the pouch, and it's lined in brown gingham for strength.
I like that the kids are so into gems because when I was little I found them fascinating. Also, fossils and rocks and shells from faraway places. It's strange how when we get older, we have to try harder to find the magic in these things. Well, I do, anyway.
Do you know The Magnetic Fields? The first song I heard by them was this quirky and amazing one, and then I discovered I Don't Want To Get Over You.
Tucked behind the shed, I found a raggedy little wintersweet bush. I couldn't believe my luck, as not much is growing around here right now. I snipped off a branch and brought it inside. It has a deeply comforting sweet/citrus scent.
The flowers inspired a bit of watercolour work, and that in turn led to some stamp-carving from rubber. And so I have this simple little wintersweet flower print, made with yellow textile ink on natural linen. It's very July-in-NZ, don't you think?
I'm really loving pinterest right now- when the working (studying) hours and long and grey, ten minutes playing on my pinboards at night is the best medicine, I think. My boards are here- does anything take your fancy?
Happy weekend!
It was the stormiest day in a long while today, so I was appreciating these two very spring-like things: an old patchwork quilt that I found second-hand (with lots of ink stains) which I recycled into a tote bag and pen case- i hope it's happier like that.
Also these beautiful double-narcissi (I think) lending a bit of spring to the house. They're the colour of clotted cream and I found them at this gorgeous little Wellington store- They have new flowers every weekend, so i can't wait to see what's there next Friday.
Have a great new week, and stay out of the rain...
Marigolds seem to be the only flower-type things in our garden right now, and are certainly the most colourful of the winter-enduring plants. I picked a few and then embroidered yellow ones on some recycled wool fabric, in order to make these phone cases for my shop. I made one for my own phone too as it's starting to look a bit worse for wear these days... it travels in my bag, on the bus, etc each day and gets a good workout.
And here is a song for today. I used to thrash this PJ Harvey album back when I was student (for the first time, that is) and then today my ipod chose this song at random. When I got home and turned on the radio, they were playing it too. Perhaps everyone's bad fortune is slipping away.
Here are three good stitch patterns that have come my way lately:
- a beautiful vintage embroidery that was a gift from Louana. There are poppies, daisies and cornflowers stitched onto velvety fabric. I'm not sure what I'll do with it yet- I wonder if it might have been a tea-cosy at one time?
- this is a poster that I found at Asia Gallery, which is a local-to-me shop full of beautiful and strange things. It seems to be a stitch chart from Romania or perhaps another part of Eastern Europe. The colours appealed to me and I had to have it for the sewing room wall.
- I've been looking for a fair-isle cardigan this winter, and hadn't had much luck locally, as I decided that my dream cardy would be made from pure wool, and hopefully that from the Shetlands. I once found a Shetland wool fairisle cardy from an opshop when I was a teenager, and I wore it loyally every winter thereafter, until it was too holey to be warm anymore. Anyway, I found this vintage one on etsy- it's Shetland wool, a bit scratchy, and fits perfectly.
I just discovered that my camera can take black and white photos, and I never realised before. I took a few monochrome pictures of the children playing in the garden. It's fairly unkempt and hardly ever warm or dry enough to play in these days. There's an expansive wild bit down the end of the garden, overgrown with periwinkle and nasturtium, and the kids quite enjoy wading through the plants when they have their gumboots on. There's something about a dark winter garden that reminds me of being small and free.
