shining egg

a poem, your advice, and the new word

wow, you guys. i was really touched by your enthusiastic reaction to gossamer. all of your kind comments were so very much appreciated. and megan flattered me beyond imagination. really, thank you.

and did you see what erin and tracy created? all so different - our interpretations, our choice of media, our projects. it's been so much fun, these last few days, anticipating, revealing, reflecting. but before i get to round 2, i have two more gossamer things to mention.

my brother - a poet, an artist whose medium is words - sent me this poem yesterday. it's by emily dickinson, and it's what comes to his mind when he thinks of gossamer. the poem is - well, it's so gossamer. and i was really touched that my brother was thinking about me and my project enough to have connected the word to this poem and sent it along to me. read it, if you haven't already. i don't think you'll be sorry. (i wonder whether my direction would have changed if i had read this poem at the beginning of the process? hmmm.)

the final - i think - gossamer item is this. there is a second gossamer piece. a sister piece, if you will, to the project i shared yesterday. i didn't mention it yesterday because i didn't want to take away from my final project, but there is another. it's gossamer (2), and it's very much like gossamer - 16x20, printed linen and stitching on linen covered board - except that the linen in this one is pink.

i'm considering the possibility of selling gossamer (2). but i have no idea if anyone would have any interest in buying it! this would be my first time offering my work for sale on the blog; it's something new for me, and something that i'm curious about exploring.

would you tell me what you think? of course, if i do put it up for sale, i'll give a full listing with pricing and such. but for today, i'd really love to have your input and opinions as to whether this is something to explore. or whether i ought to hang these sisters together on the wall of my studio room and keep their beauty all to myself! (which is also still a possibility.) so please, tell me the truth.

phew! i think that's it for gossamer for now. which is a good thing, because this next word - from jen - is so full of possibility that i'd better get started right away! (can you see it there? the word, written on the corner of her print, sitting on my desk alongside a few favorite things? it's a good one.)

happy weekend, friends.

wordplay: gossamer

so there you have it. gossamer. my first contribution to wordplay.

and can i confess something? i love it. and i feel awfully proud of myself about it. (though i do wish you could see it in person, because it looses a bit of its impact in the photos.)

it was a journey, this gossamer creation. starting with lots and lots of brainstorming - notes and notes and pages of notes in my moleskine. i imagined a painting. or a series of paintings. and then a collage. and then i got fixated on the definition of gossamer, the one from the dictionary. like, the actual words out of the dictionary. merriam-webster, page 312. and that fixation, with the collage, an idea started to form.

in the meantime, i was also fixated on finding gossamer-weight fabric. i knew it existed. but what i didn't realize was that it's really (according to my research. if you know something more about it, please let me know!) a synthetic gauzy fabric that's used for prom decorations and bridal veils. not what i had in mind; i was hoping for a gossamer weight linen, or something else with natural fibers. in the end, i settled for a very fine handkerchief weight linen. and i'm so glad i did.

so as i was fixating on the collage and buying the linen, i spent some time with my friend pam (who is an amazing textile artist and one of the most lovely human beings you could ever be lucky enough to know. and who really ought to have a blog. or at least a shop. really. are you reading this, pam?), and i shared my ideas with her. and she encouraged me to develop the notion of the collage further, to incorporate the fabric, to expand on my idea of the stitching. all of that, and she let me use her bernina.

really, my conversations with pam were integral to the development of this piece. and i'm so grateful to her for that. it's a gift, to have a creative person in my actual life. it's a new gift for me, and one that i'm so happy about. more on that subject another day.

so there were the notes. and then there were the photocopies; lots and lots of photocopies at staples, enlarging and adjusting and trying for just the right combination of lightness and darkness and grain-i-ness to suggest gossamer. and there was the linen. and then there an earlier version of the project (which you can see here), it's the one i shared a peek at last week. i really liked that one, but i knew there was more to do.

so last weekend i used my big stack of photocopies to burn myself some screens and print with my gocco onto the linen. i incorporated all of the lessons i learned printing on fabric in the gocco swap - about how much ink to use, and about how to burn a screen that will (or won't, which is what i wanted in this case) print crisp images. and i was really pleased with the results.

and then this week, the whole thing came together. these pieces cut and stitched and hanging from threads that remind me, just a bit, of a web. the float-y nature of the whole thing dangling together.

i had always thought that i would mount this project on paper. that's what i had imagined from the beginning (well, from some point after the beginning, really. but i had imagined it for a good while.). but pam (again, pam) pointed out how delicate and floating-in-the-air the whole thing is when it is suspended. and so i built a frame (i'm almost as excited about that as i am about the actual project!) with some canvas stretchers, brass tacks, 2 pieces of foam core, some super adhesive, a large piece of my favorite mid-weight linen, a staple gun, some encouragement, and a bit of courage.

and then i pinned the piece to the board with three red pushpins, suspending the fabric away from the board to create dimension. to let the piece float. to enhance its gossamer-ness. it's an installation, really. and it does lose something in the photographs. but i hope that you can get a sense of how delicate and float-y it is from the photos i've taken.

so there you have it. my interpretation of gossamer. something delicate, tenuous, gauzy, flimsy, floating in the air. gossamer.

(word #2 arrived in the mail yesterday from an amazing artist. i haven't opened the envelope yet, wanting to post this first. i'll open it in a bit, and share the word here tomorrow.)

getting ready for tomorrow

gos·sa·mer

Pronunciation: \ˈgä-sə-mər also ˈgäz-mər, ˈgä-zə-\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English gossomer, from gos goose + somer summer
Date: circa 14th century

1     : a film of cobwebs floating in air in calm clear weather        
2     : something light, delicate, or insubstantial

gos·sa·mer
 
Function: adjective
Date: circa 1807

: extremely light, delicate, or tenuous  

(with thanks to the merriam-webster dictionary)

so it's been almost six weeks now, since i opened shari's envelope to find the word gossamer typed and pasted to a pink paint chip.  (i've carried that token with me in my notebook ever since, by the way.)

it's been a challenge.  this new project, this first word.

when we began imagining wordplay in its current form, i planned to paint.  and only paint.  i was fixated on painting.  i'm fairly certain that i told erin and tracy that i wanted to commit to a single medium for the course of the project.  thinking, of course, that i would stretch myself in my painting, explore new possibilities.

luckily, those two wise women were not interested in committing to a single medium.  because i haven't painted a single stroke.  not one.  this project that i've created has nothing at all to do with painting.  but it has stretched me in ways that i never imagined.

i can't wait to share tomorrow.  and to see what my friends have created.

but now, i'm off to put the finishing touches on gossamer.

w.i.p.

remember wordplay? time is growing short on our first go-round; the gossamer project is due to be finished on may 15, which is nine days from today.

it's been tricky, this one. it's the first one. and the word - gossamer - it's so beautiful and delicate and evocative all on its own. what could i possibly add to the experience of this word? but i've been thinking and brainstorming and writing page after page of notes.

yesterday i spent some time playing with all of my notes and ideas. i wish i could show you! but this peek is all i can spare until next week. there are some elements from yesterday's work that i'm loving, that i'm certain will end up in the final piece. and there are other things that i'll be playing with and adjusting over the next nine days.

we'll all three (erin and tracy and i) be sharing our first-round projects on (or around?) may 15. i'm looking forward to that - to sharing my creation, and to seeing how erin and tracy have interpreted gossamer. i'll be sharing my process then, too. and revealing the second word at the same time.

i've got a lot of work to do in the next nine days. but this project, it's fun!

coconut cupcakes are yummy

today is my mother's birthday. and also her mother's birthday.

can you imagine!? my mother was born on her mother's 23rd birthday. what a gift.

coconut cake is their favorite. (convenient that they have the same favorite, isn't it?) i've been making the same coconut cake recipe for a few years now, and though i love the cake, i wasn't crazy about the seven-minute-frosting. so today i tried something new: a coconut-cream cheese frosting. it's a bit thinner than i had imagined - not thin enough to be a glaze, but a wee bit thinner than a traditional frosting - but it's creamy and shiny and absolutely delicious. d.e.l.i.c.i.o.u.s.

i'll tell you how i made it. but only if you promise not to say a single word about my arteries. it's frosting, after all. and it's two birthdays rolled into one. ok? ok.

coconut-cream cheese frosting - makes more than enough to frost 18 cupcakes
(adapted from this recipe)

1 8-ounce block of cream cheese, at room temperature
1/2 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
1.5-2 cups confectioners sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened coconut milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

beat the cream cheese and butter together until smooth.
add all but 1/2 cup of the confectioners sugar and beat until smooth.
add the coconut milk and vanilla and the remaining confectioners sugar.
beat until smooth. (there's a pattern here, you see?)
frost the cupcakes, trying not to eat as much of the frosting as i did along the way.
and enjoy.

happy birthday mom and gramz. i'm proud (and also feeling pretty lucky) to be your daughter and granddaughter. i'm wishing you love and joy - and most of all, peace - in the coming year.

bits of the islands (and the end of the vacation pictures, ok?)

have i bored you to tears all week with these vacation pictures? i'm through now, for the most part. one or two might trickle out here and there over the coming weeks. but really, this is it.

today's pictures are from the 2 islands we visited. st. thomas and st. maarten.

you might remember that i love the beach in a sort-of-insane way, so these two stops were some of the best parts of the trip for me. the water was as blue as it appears in these photos. really. the sand was soft as powder. the ocean was the absolute perfect temperature. the air was hot. the sun was shining. (we have few burned shoulders to prove it. oops.) the people were friendly. perfection.

st. maarten was my favorite. oh my, how i'd like to go back there for a week. (or a month. are you reading this, dave?) perhaps the very best beach i've ever been to in my life was in a tiny town on the french side of the island. the beach was almost empty (we changed into our suits right there on the sand. it was that empty.), and the shoreline was filled with seaglass. i get almost giddy typing those words. i mean, can you imagine my glee!? to find this glorious deserted beach covered with sea glass? we were piggy about it, too. stuffing our pockets and our shoes with (mostly) green bits of polished happiness. (i'll share those treasures next week.)

those two island days were glorious. we swam, we sunned, we walked and explored and collected and ate and walked some more and swam some more. we enjoyed the local flavor, we saw a tourist spot or two. we remembered how much we love to travel, to explore new places. we discovered that our children can walk - really walk - through a town or a city or a beach; that they're suddenly big enough to be fun to travel with in a new and different sort of way. we had fun. so much fun.

and then we got back on the great big boat and sailed home. there's so much more of the trip that i wish i could capture in words. i've tried, but i can't. a blur of memories and photographs and a few short sentences to sum up such an adventure doesn't seem fair. and, on the other hand, it seems just the right way to tie up a whirlwind, you know? so that's it, then. it was a beautiful blur. a beautiful, beautiful blur.

lines, on and around deck 4

off to paint today. it's been four weeks since i've been in the painting studio. and i always wonder, after a break like that - will my groove be there waiting for me, packed away with my paints and brushes and my smock that used to be my fathers pink dress shirt? or will i struggle this morning, stumbling along as penance for my absence from the easel?

either way, i'm awfully excited. not only to have brushes in hand, but because i feel the window paintings winding down. i'm eager to see the end of that obsession - not that i haven't loved it! oh, i have loved it dearly, but i'm looking forward to finding out what will grip me next. today, i think, more windows. and then, we'll see.

the sun is shining here. the air is crisp. all things are possible this thursday.

circles on deck (and a snippet of conversation from my everyday life)

driving to gymnastics on tuesday afternoon, alone in the car with l. (age 5), we happened upon a fire truck and an ambulance and a car that had crashed into the side of the road.

l: what happened?

me: looks like that car crashed.

l: good thing it wasn't us.

me: yes, good thing it wasn't us.

l: because i'm not wearing such nice shoes.

of course.

sigh.

we're home. thoroughly spoiled by seven days of luxury. refreshed. a bit behind on the household management. and thrilled to have returned to the thick of the springtime - green grass, leaves on trees, flowers in bloom.

mostly pictures this week while i wobble through the re-entry period that follows any good vacation. i wish i had made journal entries just like andrea's so that i could share a taste of my days at sea. but alas, i wrote nothing during those seven days. not a word. i was too busy staring out at the ocean and dreaming. so my photos will have to suffice.

more tomorrow.

bloom

a peek at my favorite dogwood tree over the last eight days.