On the Trail

I’ve never done so much craft work in my life; I have never indulged in my creative side so thoroughly. Consequently, I have learned a lot about the creative experience and my unique approach to it.

For example: I am disinclined to research. I get an idea; I do it. I learn as I go. That’s why so many plans “A” go awry. I love of problem solving. By figuring things out on my own, I get a bigger high from my final result of my work.

Dwight came over last night for drinks and then dinner at Bacchus. I had serious difficulty talking at first and so I apologized. He said: “Don’t worry about it. It’s always like this at first but you’ll be fine in a while.” And we both knew he was right. Still, it felt very good to hear a valued friend understand the pattern as I understand it. I don’t know why, really, but it felt really good.

Then we got happy sharing a bottle of wine. We’re just such a perfect fit.

He surprised me by advocating for me to go back to the idea of a performance with my dresses. But I told him no. I’m very happy I’ve abandoned the idea of a performance. I’m far happier with the idea of an exhibition. Regardless of what the outcome, I am so grateful for the sounding board he is as my idea evolves. Bless his head: He is so encouraging.

I’m at the point with the cheerleader that I love. There is still lots of work to do, but I have solved all the structural/construction problems and the rest is just fun. I am so happy to be so satisfied with the results.

I’m working in the kitchen now. It’s fabulous. I wish I had discovered how great it is before. I have miles of counter space and the fridge is right there — and so is my chocolate. I can even watch Netflix on my iPad, but I don’t. I listen to music.

I’ve asked him to make the letter holders I need for my show. For me, the letters are the most important part of the show. Yes, the costume/dresses catch your eye, but I want to present them behind the letters; I want the letters front and centre. I love the hybrid nature of what I am doing.

Were I to tell my stories with words, no one would ever read them. They would die like the zillions and zillions of words written every day by writer wanna-bes. Even published or self-published writers often have to face that far fewer eyes see their work than they want/expected/hoped for.

By putting my words front and centre in my show, I not only want/expect/hope that a modest number of people will read them, I get to watch them react. I can even talk to them if I want; I don't want, but I could.

Like I say: I like that I am finding my own path. And I love that I am going slowly along it, having fun as I go and unconcerned with the destination.

Cheerleader Progress = Happy!

I couldn't resist. I saw purple and yellow duct tape to her boots are duct tape. the rest is tissue paper. I have a lot of work still to do on the bodice. Her skirt has to be shortened still, too.

Endless Rain = Lots of Progress

Friday and I haven’t felt this good in ages. It’s warm. I slept with my windows open and the smell of the fresh air is an inspiring beginning to my day. It’s pouring rain, though. What’s new?

I’m really pleased with the progress I have made on the cheerleader but now the hardest part has to be done. I’ve learned that if I keep persevering I will succeed. I hope that pattern never stops.

Plan A was, as is so often the case, a disaster. Rest. Clean up. Try again.

There’s a package at the post office for me to pick up. I suspect it’s the wheat. If it is, I will have the wheat dress to do next while I wait for the aida cloth for the apron. However, I can start making the paper for the apron — I plan to draw on the paper to get a look I want. The apron is a simple item; I, therefore, want to make it all quite labour intensive.

The wheat dress is going to be messy. I know that. And, perhaps, a stupid move for someone with asthma and allergies, but it’s an idea I really like. Wheat is so Canadian. And I have a good story for the wheat dress.

I got some lights, too, so that I can make an electric dress.

And I was thinking I should make a poppy dress. I loathe all things military except the soldiers.

The primary reason I feel so good today, though, it Robert. I am so glad he called.

HAPPY!

The cheerleader progresses; duct tape boots. I still have to shorten the skirt.

This is me HAPPY because he called, because the cheerleader is really coming together and because tonight I have dinner with Dwight at Bacchus. Mostly, though, it’s because Rob called. I am insecure in our relationship, and rather dependent, and he's been MIA for a while.

Tomorrow, the bodice — the front, at least. And then the megaphone. Then it's done and on to the wheat dress until the black aida cloth arrives so that I work on the apron. 

Skirt ~ YES!

I have the cheerleader skirt! I’m really happy with it but it will be shortened. But now I do not like the crest! Even though I spent, perhaps, sixty hours doing the first one, for practice, and then a second one to use, it’s out. The colour is wrong.

All that work for naught, but I truly don’t care. I still love what I made and I learned a skill I may use on a different dress. After all, the technique I developed to use for the peacock dress bodice that I loved so much, I rejected. But I will use the technique for the cheerleader bodice instead. So no time has been wasted.

I’m enthused now. The cheerleader outfit is going to look fine when the whole thing comes together.

It will take the rest of today to finish the skirt. Then I have to do the bodice and I’ve decided that the crest, like everything else, must be done in paper.

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I truly need a studio for a project of this size. I have to clear a path from my bedroom to the bathroom before I go to bed so that I don’t fall over something. I never forget. Unfortunately for me, my paths are also great places for Leon to puke and I discover it with bare feet in the morning. Sigh.

Pencils.

Skirting Victory

Last night, I went to bed around 10:30. The, as usual, I awoke and did some tossing and turning and then, as happens every morning bright and early at around 4:00 – to - 4:30 am, Leon came meowing onto my bed so I got up. But it was only 2:10 am. It was weird because I felt completely rested.

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The pompoms are done and they look “good enough.” Progress is slow on the cheerleader, but at least it exists. Today I am working on her skirt.

I’ve got a system now for the skirt, thank God. I find every article or technique needs a “manufacturing” system; the repetitive aspects of all I do (the part I like best) is most enjoyed when I kind of turn myself into an assembly line.

I have figured out how paste the papers together and to do the folds in a way that yields the results that I want. It was not easy.

I want a two-tone skirt and I want the yellow part to be barely visible when the skirt is at rest but much more visible with movement. I plan to use wire to give the skirt a bit of a lift to reveal the coloration. The challenge is to get the look and the fit – that is very hard with paper; cloth is, of course, much more forgiving and elastic. Although I know what I want, I also know that it may turn out differently than I expect. Photos will come soon.

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Moonlight was an incredibly moving glimpse into a very foreign world. It is arresting in every way: The script, the cinematography, the editing and the acting. It was a privilege to see it. I loathe so many movies; you have to celebrate when something of genius like Moonlight comes along.

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I’ve been tracking hits on this blog since October 11^th when I noticed a really sharp increase in visitors. For years, I’d been getting about twenty-to-forty hits a day. Since October 11^th, though, accurately, I have been getting 569 hits a day — that’s the actual average; I have a spreadsheet.

In the last week, I have had 4,600 hits from France, 225 from Canada, 58 from the USA, 24 from Ukraine and 15 from the UK. Other countries have less than 10 hits.

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Last night, I went to bed around 10:30. The, as usual, I awoke and did some tossing and turning and then, as happens every morning bright and early at around 4:00 – to - 4:30 am, Leon came meowing onto my bed so I got up. But it was only 2:10 am. It was weird because I felt completely rested.

I had one of these. It was my first.