Friday, March 31, 2006
not the destination. If you were traveling with me on Monday and Tuesday as I wound my way from Louisville to Portsmouth, VA you might have wondered if I was every going to get there.
I didn't leave home until 3:oo PM drove a meer 35 miles and took a break at the Wal-Marts where I found 100% cotton bras. My daughter-n-law Mel, (short for Maryellen) gave me this tip as she and my son were laughing about my boob and bra comments.
I brought one, No I was not wearing one at the time. I was in a sweatshirt. I didn't attempt to give my new purchase a trial wearing until the next morning when I got dressed.
Before I left Beckley, WV where I spent the night I visited TAMARAC, and arts and craft center for WV artist. I am happy that while I strolled through the building I hadn't taken my purse in with me. Oh such wonderful things. There are also 5 studio with large viewing windows that offers visitor a great view of the resident artists as they worked.
I can find flowers everywhere so I have included a picture of the large metal sculpture standing out side Tamarac. I know in the past I have made disparaging comment about WV. One remark being the lack of State Police visability. I can not tell you how may times I have been in the state without seeing one SP'man. All that ended on Monday night. I stopped to get late dinner and there buying their dinner were three, yes three of them.
From Beckley on Tuesday I made my way east stopping in Lexington, VA to view the old town and Charlottesville where I visited their historical district taking a short walk along an old street and buying a cup of coffee from a street vendor. During the jourey east I also stopped at a couple of Wal-mart to buy more of the bras that was very comfortable to wear and I did. NO ITCHING-No allergic reaction.
After I left Richmond, VA I had to call my son Myke to have him find me. I had printed out the driving direction for my trip and left them at home and I was at the point of the trip where I didn't know by memory what my next turn or connecting road shouldbe.
He found me and it was on to Portsmouth where I finally arrived at 10:00 PM.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Yesterday I spent most of the morning in the studio quilting. Until the panic of getting ready to travel set in when realized I could not put off going shopping any longer. I hate to shop unless it has something to do with art. But I found that with my recent weight loss everything I wore last spring now droops on me. A good thing, I get new clothes. A bad thing, I'm spending money and spending time doing that when I would rather be quilting or napping. I am not a MUST WEAR WHAT'S in fashion kind of girl. What I do wear has simply got to be comfortable, clean and pressed only if I will be seen outside my house. At 62 I subscript to the principle that the best bra is a sweat-shirt, especially since I have developed an allergy to latex and spandex. Probably brought on in part by all the latex gloves I had to wear as a nurse and all those spandex girdles I so foolishly wore in my youth. No LADY did sit-ups back then to get it the old abs under control. A washboard, was for doing the laundry if you hadn't moved up to a wringer washer. Back then, before spa's and gyms as we know them now you either had a flat tummy because the Dear Lord blessed you with one or you didn't... especially after having kids. My husband bless his soul understood a little flab came with motherhood. And if you didn't like your speading waistline you could buy it back with the use of a waist cincher and girdle. An hour glass shape was not my priorty. But I remember with fondness the sack dress, mumu's and empire waist tent dresses. No sucking in the gut needed.
If any of you know a source for 100 percent cotton bras like they made pre PLAYTEX let me know. I know they are not all that comfortable, there is no give to them, but it has got to be better for me during those times when I MUST HOIST THE BOOBS TO ATTENTION than itching and scratching after having a bra on for less than 30 minutes.
Back to the packing. In order to not make a wreck of the house I am keeping a list which I know I will have to check and recheck.
Don't forget the glue.
Don't forget the phone charger, the digital battery recharger
Don't forget the laptop and all the attaching wires that go with it.
Don't for get the toothpaste
Don't forget, Don't forget, Don't forget......
Truly this is a PAIN!!!
I generally pack as follows. Get out the required containers, and suitcases a week before leaving. Since no one sleeps on the otherside of my king size bed the open luggage resides there. When those don't forget Juanita moments strike I simply go do it at the time and I don't forget. The same for the open containers in the studio and by briefcase for the printed material.
The exit door of my condo is metal and makes a great don't forget to do or go or bring note hanging place. I use decorator magnets in keeping with my decor, not ones that advertise the local pizza place, Tacky, Tacky.
I attach letters that have to go into the mail there too.
OH GEE I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING. GOTTA GO WRITE IT DOWN.
Hope I can blog from VA if not I'll take some pictures of the locale and at the retreat and blog and brag when I get back.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
I know any advance warning I get from the Realtor of an expectant buyer's visit will be spend getting their bathroom in ship shape order each time. I DID TEACH THEM BETTER I PROMISE I DID. The rest of the house never is in disarray just dusty. A Swifter is great for Oh my gosh, company is coming dust removal.
I am moving to Columbia, MO. I plan to be there at the end of July. I think I have been coming to this decision for at least a year and finally arrived there when I found myself on the otherside of the wall I spoke of the other day. My oldest daughter and my youngest grandson live in Columbia, MO. It is a small college town with the feel of such. Rush hour happens when there are more than three cars waiting at an intersection for the light to change. You can get from one side of town to the other in 10 minutes if there really is a need for you to go. For me there is. The best yarn shop and Joann's is on the East side of town. Lyn lives in the West.
The town is divided into four area. North, South, East and West. They all have their charm and personality but it seems except for the newly developing east side each area has all the conveniences and there really isn't a reason to venture far. I have visited there often enough over the years that I feel at home when I am within 15 miles of her home.
I know where two yarn shops are without having to look at a map. I can get to a quilt store, a Michaels, Hobby Lobby, an Ace hardware and Walmart in 5 minutes. In the winter the car doesn't get warm before I am shutting it off. I know where the Starbuck's is and they know you well enough that when you come in for a coffee in the afternoon they do not charge you because they remember that you had been there in the morning. The Barnes and nobles is close and has a Starbuck's too. The Free Public Library does not charge fines for late returns. They have a sit down coffee bar. Self service check-out. Books fast and easy and coffee, ahhhhhh.
The community has several art programs, an active art league as well as three college and, universities, MAZZOU, (University of MO). All the higher ed places are in the old business district or the center of town. The only disadvantage I found so far is when you need to fly out of their little airport; it's prop-jets or nothing. St. Louis and Kansas city are 1-1/2 to 2 hours to the east and to the west of Columbia. Since I am not a fan of flying the inconvenience of it all didn't give me a moment of pause. Lyn who travels often on business take the MOEX. It's front door to curb side when she needs to fly somewhere.
Columbia is a very relaxed place. Not that where I live is filled with hustle or a hassle. In deciding what I am doing with the rest of my life, I am planning to return to college and study art for my own sake. Mazzou I have learned has a fiber art department that I plan to look into and hopefully be enrolled in by the time I get there at Summer's end.
Wish for me a buyer who will pay the price I am asking for my place.
Monday, March 20, 2006
I remember how tenative I am as I enter a blind curve not knowing what's around the bend. On the way there I'm hesitant. I glance frequently at the road map just to make sure I really am on the right road. I've been know to make a U-turn or two. A show going up is like that. You step back a lot. You evaluate. Reconsider.
Today four of the six members of River City Fiber Artist ( Kathy, Marti, Valarie and I) took down Form Not Function at the Carnegie and got all the quilts packed for return shipping to their makers. It is amazing how many different shipping containers and ways of packing our work to ship to a show or exibit.
We Love those artist who put instruction in the package telling us how they want the piece folded, rolled, etc for return. In our case we are not the ones who unpack the work when it arrives. So we don't know if the makers used the bubble wrap as crease preventor or padding to keep the quilt from moving in the shipping container. We really love the ones who send their own hanging devises too. This year we had to cut sticks for a lot of the work. Prepared for hanging in our case means , having a sleeve and a stick with screw eyes on each end or holes drilled in the ends.
We saw and took note of some clever ways of sending sticks that are too long for the shipping container. Several artist had devised ways using either flat head screw or metal braces for the sections of wood slats. Once assembled by their directions the sticks were the required lengths needed for display. The sticks were easily disassembled for the return too.
We were also amazed at some works that were poorly protected. In one case there was no fabric or plastic. In another the box was just down right shoddy to the point where we wondered how the quilt arrived without being damaged. First there was no way we could get the quilt back in the box. We did try although had we succeeded there was no way the carton would make the return trip in one piece. So a new box was supplied.
We worked steady, went to lunch and talked as only friends can do. I carry my camera with me all the time now, just in case I see something worth documenting. I left home this morning thinking I would take pictures of how hard we were working and what a gallery looks like be deconstructed, but gosh gee I was working too hard to stop and do it.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
I taught a beginners dyeing workshop at the Carnegie Center in New Albany, Indiana Saturday morning. In the past I've had as many as 20 students in this class at one time. This time there just four which made for a very relaxed class. I've included a photo of the ladies.
While I was in Indiana I drove about one mile from the Carnegie to Floyd Memorial Hospital during the lunch break to get a digital image of the commissioned quilt I made for the Hospital.
I was there when it was installed, but the rest of the decor was not done so I didn't get the full effect. Today I did.
I am so glad I have a digital camera now, but for at least a year I dug my heels in and refused to buy one. I could literally kick myself if that were possible for not having had one before now. On the say the quilt was installed I took about 15 shots of the construction crew on one of those lift things raised up to the ceiling in order to get the quilt hung. It was fun directing the men on how I wanted it hung. Great crew. Needless to say I have yet to get the film developed.
Hence my love of the digial.
The quilt for the hospital measures 5 feet by 12 feet. Took about six weeks to make. The stone wall where it hangs is 8 feet by 16 feet. The mantel over which it hangs is about 8-10 feet off the floor. It's very hard to get close to the quilt or get a straight on view of it.
One Saturday evenings I play a board game called UPWORDS with two friends who names are both Kathleen Mary (good Catholic by birth women). One calls herself Kathy & the other Kathie. (the Kaths) is what I call them collectively. UPWORDS is sort of like SCRABBLE. You use letter tiles to make words in the same pattern as Scrabble and score points for the words made simular to Scrabble. Over the course of five years that we have played, we are about even in games won, but tonight Kathie skunked us 3-0-0.
While I was at the Carnegie I took the shot of the small signature pieces made by each members of River City Fiber Artist. This is the support and critique group I belong to and we juried the works that were included in this year's Form Not Function Art Quilt Exhibition. You can see how varied we are with our Art. My piece is the one in the middle on the lower row. The show comes down on Monday. If you didn't see it this year,, make plans to come see what we select next year.
No studio time Saturday. But today (Sunday) promises to be a good studio day.
Friday, March 17, 2006
For months this little book resided in my bathroom in a basket of reading material kept there for THOSE times when!!!
Caught you grinning. You maintain a Bathroom "library" too?
I don't read "real" books in the tub, catelogs don't count. I always seem to get water on the pages and I value books too much to do that to them; besides there is the fact that it is a rare thing for me to take a long soaking bath in the first place. I don't have time for a bubble filled tub. Not when my studio beckons. 99 and 44% of the time I shower quickly; soap up, rinse off and get on with it. So this little book has been sitting in the Bathroom library on a small table next to the tub for several months. Yes.... I had leafed through the book on occassions when I was doing you know what. On occassions I'd found some words of wisdom in it that made me say " hum" or "aha" too.
There is a saying, Chinese I believe, that says,"When the time is right the teacher will appear". Well I guess after several months of me picking the book up only to put it back down I finally reached a place where I was ready to read it and hear what it had to say. Having read the book, completed the exercises in it, I internalized the lessons it had to teach me. My heart and soul felt the change.
Completing the exercises in the book wasn't a breeze. The little book contains some contemplative quotes and soul searching questions that I needed to think through carefully before answering. Once the questions were answered and the results stared me in the face, there was no denying that I was not loving the life I had or living the life I wanted.
Two weeks ago I removed the book from the Bathroom library and placed it on my bed by my journal. Each evening I read then re-read several pages in the book with serious thoughtfulness and I began to journal about the light bulb moments contained therein. As I listed my priorities and my values as the book suggested, very quickly I realized that I was not happy and that I'd been pretending for a very long time that I was.
In truth for 5 years I've been standing still in front of an emotional wall I couldn't climb over, walk around or find my way through. That wall metaphorically speaking was the visons of the life I'd had 6 years ago and before I knew my husband was dying. My wall was the vision of the life Phil and I'd planned to have together in our retirement. The wall represent my anger with Phil for dying and leaving me and my anger with God for allowing him to. The wall most of all also represented a life I couldn't have, yet I couldn't let go of wanting.
I can say as an excuse for myself, that the last five years was the period after a great loss that experts warn you about and tell you NOT to make any drastic changes or rash decision during. So I tried not to make changes or make rash decision and so there I stood. Standing still but not entirely vegetating; I made quilts, sold several, taught and took classes but I was not blooming as I knew I was capable of doing. I was not in joy as I knew I could be and had been in the past.
On subsequent days of journaling I realized that the wall represented the life others thought I should be living as well. The little book and my journaling was very instrumental in my accepting the reality of the WHAT IS and made me see that I could no longer live my life based on the WHAT WAS.
The book helped me think my way through the wall and not entirely as if by magic but due to some hard work, I am now on the otherside. My passage through the wall took a lot of soul searching, journaling, tears and letting go. It took the ears of a emphathic friend and soon to be ordained paster to be, the encouragement of all three of my adult children and a couple of other friends to do it. Now I have new goals, new values, a new vision of what constitute success for me and a better sense of who I am and want to be now. With anticipation I am making plans for a new life filled with growth, joy and adventure.
Three quotes from the book that got me thinking .
"There is but one life for each of us: our own" EURIPIDES
"We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about." CHARLES KINGSLEY
"If a (wo)man has a talent and cannot use it, (s)he has failed. If (s)he has a talent and uses only half of it, (s)he has partly failed. If (s)he has a talent and learns somehow to use the whole of it, (s)he has gloriously succeeded and won a satisfaction and a triump few (wo)men ever know" THOMAS WOLFE
I guess at this point I should tie all this musing and soul searching to the topic of quilts because that is what my blog is suppose to be about. So here goes. I am an ARTIST. I am no longer a MOTHER, for in reality I am the mother of three very independent adults. I am no longer a WIFE. I am the widow Yeager, gee, how old fashioned that sounds, but it is the TRUTH. As an independent woman my priorities are now ME based. That's not selfish, it is self nurturing. I no longer have to take into account what ANYONE will think or how anyone will feel about the decisions I make, for this is after all MY LIFE.
I came to the realization that at this point in my life friendships should be based on commoness of purpose, interest and values too. Friendship should be about mutal support, encouragement and not about NEEDINESS. At this stage of my life I do not want to be anyones CRUTCH. I want only to concern myself with carrying my own weight around and I feel bless that I am no ones burden.
By August I plan to be back in school taking art and fiber art classes. I plan to downsize so I can afford to do this. I plan to make only those quilts I truly have a passion for without regard to whether anyone might be interested in buying them. I will enter only those competitons and answer only those calls for entry that interest me simply because I WANT TO do it. I no longer care if others get to know me the artist or get to know my work or enter exhibitions because there is the possiblity of a sale or a teaching engagement as a result of someone seeing what I do.
What I want most is time for quiet meditation; the means, ability and opportunity for continued learning/education be it offered in a formal and/or in an informal settings. I will continue sharing my knowledge of quilts with others in ways that do not require me to spend days getting ready to teach or days spent afterwards getting my studio and life back in order after I have taught. I want to create art that satisfies only me and I want the time and place to do it. I want the luxury of failing in my attempts to be better at my art and not fear that in failing I will miss a deadline imposed by someone other than myself. I have promised myself that I will never again feel guilty about my bio rhythms that are not in sync with the "Normal" work day world. Being an Artist means I have no time clock to punch and want never to be in a position where I have to do so ever again.
I wish all of you a life of your own design.
The quote on the back of the book reads," No matter what your life looks and feels like right now. It's never to early to begin building or too late to begin remodeling."
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
when I wasn't looking. How dare Spring arrive without calling to tell me it was coming. Surely it could have knocked on my door this morning and announced itself. OHHH NOOOO..... Spring wanted to sneak up on me.
There was no sign of Spring on Sunday dispite tempertures in the upper sixties. There were no signs of Spring from my windows on Monday either. It was cold, rainy and very windy and I didn't venture out until after darkness had descended. If there had been a sign to be found on Monday, most likely I wouldn't have seen it anyway.
What a delight to be greeted by a bright sunny day when the alarm went off this morning. Seeing that I slide out of bed with a smile on my face and pep in my step. Sunshine is way better than caffine, especially for those of us with SAD.
Today the sky was clearly blue and a multitude of white blooms were evident on the Bradford pear trees that line the main Blvd of the condo community where I live. I made a quilt two years ago that was inspired by same Blvd.
As I drove to class, I looked for signs of Spring in all the right places; the front yards of houses and in the woods lining my route. Occasionally I would glimps a sparkle of white among the still Winter bare woodlands. To my delight and surprise I was greeted by dozens of, bobbing in the wind, yellow daffadils and the noticible redness on the branches of the yet to bloom Red-bud trees, as I parked at the Ford Center where I teach.
When I arrived at the home of my friend Marti to see her newly installed hard wood flooring as I had promised, I was greeted by her front garden. OH JOY, OH JOY!
Her floors where WONDERFUL too.
I LOVE HARD WOOD FLOORS, so I tried not to turn green with envy.
Going to Marti's is alway a treat in more than one way. Coffee and/or tea are always waiting.
I am teaching a beginner level low water fabric dyeing workshop on Saturday. Marti has a house with a basement that is a "sure, you can store that stuff here kind of space" and not one where she entertains . Thank God for that since we both have acquired a lot of stuff for our quilt art. That means dyes and other dyeing stuff is there too.
We talked, catching up and she helped me put the kits for the class together. Four hands and two heads are always a good thing. While there, I looked at the full size cartoon of her newest quilt design. I oogled her newly organized studio closet and wished my space was as clean. I had my second cup of coffee for the day and made a trip across her rain soaked lawn to see her crocuses. In route, I saw my first dandelion and was happy that I live where I do because, someone else is responsible for eradicating their little yellow heads and long root system from the lawn below my balcony.
I've had a very good day, teaching, visiting with Marti, looking for Spring and working in my studio dispite the fact that I had to drop my Jeep off for service after class this afternoon and I am without a vehicle until sometimes tomorrow. Marti drove me home from her house. One whole mile away.
The "check engine" light came on while I was driving Monday night and my speedometer was stuck on zero. Neither one of the two problems the service department manager assured me is major. I bet that won't be the case with the bill. The light coming on when it did, truly was not a bad thing. I have put off having the Jeep serviced for over 2 weeks when it was ONLY the speedometer that was malfunctioning. I know I shouldn't have waitied. I tend to speed when I know what speed I am suppose to be doing and do about 10% more. But I hate estimating how fast I am driving when, my only indication is based on how comfortable I feel while I am just keeping up with the traffic.
But I promise it was GOING TO HAVE IT FIXED. The tires needed rotating, the oil and filters changed and the other fluids and belts checked for safety sake before the end of the month anyway. On March 27th I am driving from Louisville to Hampton, VA to teach for a couple of days at a Retreat. I plan to stay a few days with my sis-n-law in Northen Virginia too while on that side of the country.
Believe me no woman should tranverse the wilds of West Virginia in an unreliable auto alone, especially since that state has the least number of cell phone towers than any place on the planet. Okay if any West Virginians read this and is offended, don't keep it to yourself, e-mail me. firstname.lastname@example.org
I truly hope you had a BLOOMINGLY great day like I did.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
why there are Smiths, Wrights, Millers, Carpenters, Taylors, Painters and Farmers but no Artist?*
This picture has nothing to do with the blogging I am doing today. I found it on the internet as I was searching for the origin of the name Yeager.
Was making art as we know it today not a thing or occupation to be known by in days of yore?
Surely since it was so easy to change ones name in the old days why did no one changed their surname to Artist.*
Today we hang this tag on ourselves to tell the world who and what we are. Why? Because one, we are proud of what we do and two, being an artist is not apparent to the casual viewer.
Yes, yes I know there are times when we leave the house with a thimble afixed to our middle finger and are in the process of signing a check when we discover it. Or we look like we had a fight with a wayward lint trap. And of course we have threads attached almost always that we think of as normal. But none of this says artist to the outside world. The outside world is probably thinking unkemp, forgetful and blind. And surely none of us wants to be named any of those.
Should we, who make "art", forever be known with a hypenated name lest the world think we are something other than who and what we are? Juanita Yeager-Artist? Now that says something but does not fully define who and what I am.
And can it or should it be that simple?
Juanita Gibson-Yeager was an acceptable name I gave myself when the fem movement began. From the beginning of my marriage to one Philip Douglas Yeager, God bless his soul, I called myself Juanita Gibson Yeager no hyphen because until I had exceeded 18 years of marriage I had been a Gibson longer than a Yeager and being known as Juanita Gibson Yeager just felt right. It felt like ME. Although married with children and career as a nurse I still felt more like my parents daughter at times. Now I feel more like an artist.
Could I so boldly wipe away a name I have had for nearly 45 years. Not without a lot of soul searching. How easy was it for immigrants to give up their names for Americanized versions. What is a name? Since I think of myself as a Yeager 90% of the time I thought I should find out who or what a Yeager is. And a Gibson.
Yeager, Americanized from the German Jager, Jaeger, meaning one who hunts.
On the other hand. Gib is a Newfounderland term for fish guts. I suppose my father's father's father gutted fish for a living and had a son .
Thank God at age 62 I don't hunt or gut fish.
Thank God more that I do do art.
This is how I got on to this train of thinking. My great-grand father was a Blacksmith. However, he was born a Williamson. But at some point in his life prior to him marrying my great-grandmother, Nishia Head, he became a Smith.
Not Black, or Blacksmith, just simply Smith. Maybe being named Smith was enough to define who and what he was. He was known by the name Smith long enough for it to be legal and his children and grands to great-great still carry the name Smith.
I were Juanita the Quiltsmith like my great-grandfather James was the Blacksmith. Most likely Quiltsmith would become Smith. Oh NO!
or Juanita the Quiltwright, simple Wright. NO WAY! How annomous would that be.
Having decided that I can not give up my connection to my born into family or my married into family. My name would be have to become
Juanita Gibson Yeager Artist, Hum!
In the final analysis, all this blogging would have been unnecessary if only my husband's ancestors had been French instead of German and originated in the province of Artois.
People from Artois were named Artis (ar-tees) and the Americanized form is Artist.
Friday, March 10, 2006
How to quilt a top is the part that gives me pause. Of course how to quilt the flowers is a given, because the pattern in the flowers will be that of natural veining. But the back ground is another thing. Will I quilt it with an organtic feel. That is,curving lines as if the wind is blowing or shall I step away from reality and do some quilting that is unrelated to the subject but still demonstrates unity between foreground and background. I don't know at this point.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
I wouldn't have had a lost weekend as it relates to getting quality time with myself in the studio. My lost weekend in the studio is all because of my 4 year old going on 5 in April grandaughter who when asked what her name is she will say very properly, Olivia Faye Yeager.
I was awake at 7:30 AM after going to bed at 4:00 AM because I had tickets for us to see a childrens play on Saturday morning titled Pinnochio at the Derby Dinner Playhouse.
In the case of kiddie plays they serve a childrens style breakfast at 9:00 AM before the play; which is performed in the round begins at 10:00AM.
When the lights dimmed and the actors took the stage she was entralled.
Olivia loves to dance, sing, make art and have tea parties.
See adorable child before our tea party. See same adorable child at the Playhouse. Adorable child making a swing out of my Gazelle and on Sunday before going home showing off her braid with the pink bow at the end because she'd never had braids before. HAVE I TOLD YOU how creative she is. BRAG, BRAG, BRAG!!!
Before we returned home after the play, we stopped at a yarn shop where she acquired with her charm a hunk of wool that was to be spun. I can not remember what she named her "pet" hunk of grey wool that she knew came from a lamb because it was sssssssssoooooooooooo soft.
We made a small cloth doll and dressed the doll as a ballerina, then painted dishes, then went to the market and then to a park to swing, then had a tea party, then she and the middle grandson baked sugar cookies. Then she served orange juice and cookies to 5 of middle grandson's friends and acted as if she too was 18. Justin very patiently helped her make the cookies, shape than and place them on the cookie sheet, then decorate them with candy stars and sprinkles. Told you I don't cook and the boys know how. After dinner and more activities WE WERE IN BED BY 9:00 PM and both sleep by 9:10. It was the stuff that came after the THENS that got me.
I won't bore you with all the THEN we accomplished Sunday morning. I'll just say because of time with Olivia Faye before she went home at Noon and driving my Mother 180 miles round trip to see her bother who is in an assisted living facitity, treating her to dinner and a movie. We saw 16 Blocks with Bruce Willis. 16 Blocks wasn't bad or great, just a typical Bruce Willis, do the right thing touch cop character movie which seems what Hollywood had type cast him as, Sunday and all the then proved to be another ALL DONE IN DAY.
Monday I have promised myself will be a great studio day, since I have no mother, grandmother, daughter or out of the house artist appointment on my calendar.
While I say my passion is quilts and the color of cloth , in truth the color of love is my greatest joy.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Friday, March 03, 2006
Now for the most fun part of my day.
First, I went to dinner at Lemongrass (my favorite neighborhood place to eat) with friends , I had a rice noodle, fresh vegetable, grilled shrimp with citrus sauce that was simply WONDERFUL and then I drove into the city to C & S Galley for the opening reception for my dear friend Valerie White and her collection of art-qults. Officially I do not live in Louisville, I live in Middletown which by interstate is 17 miles from the heart of the city.
Valerie is about three years new to Louisville and I am SOOOOOOOOOO glad I met her. I love her work, she has the greatest smile. (CLICK ON AND ENLARGE HER IMAGE) She has decided to get her own blog site up and running so I will leave it to her to show close ups of her work. I will just give you a few overall shots one fuzzy image of her and her husband , one of just her and one of her quilts and one a shot of her space in the gallery.
If you are every in Louisville, you must visit this Black owned gallery. It is in a remodeled three story commerical building in the art section part of town and near other worth visiting galleries and museums.
A renowned fellow Louisvillian Ed Hamilton, ARTIST (note the bold capital letters) was there, this evening, signing his book. If you do not know any of his many accomplishments, just let me tell you that he is a sculpture of the first order , he did the Vietnam War memorial statue in Washington, DC on the Mall near the WALL. How cool is that to know him and he know you. If at the end of your life when you are counting some of the moments that made your time on earth memoriable, one of my moments would be the time I had the honor of sharing the stage for a round table discussion of art, artist and their lives, which included Ed, Sam Gilliam (another of Louisville's world known artist) ME and another Artist who's name excapes me at this moment. To be recognized and to be the only woman on the stage was GREAT.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
He was off to school before I woke. He came home from school and went up the stairs to his bedroom and the internet or talk for hours on the phone to who else GIRLS!!!.
On the weekend he didn't get up until late afternoon. He is an owl like me.
He was easy to feed. Pizza from Papa Johns on two days , a number 7 with a coke from Wendy's x 2, chinese take out (in our case, delivery) although we could have walked to the resturant and not burn 1/16 of the calories in the meal. That 's how close the chinese resturant is. We had Macaroni Grill one night, he lasauna, me their grilled chicken, strawberries, feta cheese and spinach salad (yum).
I know this does not sound like a typical grandmotherly visit. No home cooked meals. No way.
The only honest to goodness grandmotherly thing I did the whole time I was there and that is debatable. I baked 20 chocolate chip cookies, (NOT FROM SCRATCH, perish the thought) The cookies were Pillsbury, pre-shaped. I opened the package, pre-heated the oven, put them in, set the timer and went back to my knitting until the buzzer sounded.
I taught all three grandsons how to shop for groceries and cook for themselves along with how to do their laundry and clean their bathroom. When they could do all three reasonablly well, I felt I had done my duty and could I retired to the studio with a clear conscious. I also resolved to never cook anything that required more than three ingredients and a pot. No tears for them PLEASE. Not one of them has suffered from a lack of grandmotherly food fare. They are 6'3, 6'1 and 6 ' respectively and according to all my nurses training they won't reach their maximum height until their early 20's. Lord help me they are all tall enought to see the top of my head in their sock feet.
While the cookies were still warm I preceeded to eat 4 of them for a total of 10 before bedtime, that was on Fat Tuesday and my digestive tract, reminded me early on Ash Wednesday morning just how bad I had been. My lips have not opened to admit any thing that sugar and fat ladden or chocolate enriched in almost 100 days.
Thursday it is back to the studio to finish the piece I left on the design wall.