what happened?

oh.

I am such a bad blogger...

Really, though, my guilt is just about that short-lived.

It's been a busy summer, and I am totally okay with the fact that I've probably lost the interest of anyone reading this thing. That is, besides my mom, Madonna, and probably Brenda, my mother-in-law. And they all already know what's up. Right, ladies?! :)

So summer is done. Back in school as of yesterday.

I am left with two thoughts:

what happened?

what happened!

The biggest news of all: We have a house!

(Well, we're under contract for a house.)

That's what happened!

Read this next part in your best Grover voice:

SERIOUSLY folks! Do you KNOW what that MEANS?

It means a HOME for all of my WONDERFUL crafts!

My crafts get their VERY OWN ROOM.

And if we are VERY VERY QUIET,

there will be a HOUSE at the end of this MONTH.

:) I am cautiously excited.

Update on projects:

cafe curtains: original seams ripped... and that's about it

bed quilt: eh... the fabrics are pre-washed (that's something... right?)

christmas needlepoint ornament: surprisingly, almost done

imagined decorating projects in house: regularly scheduled daydream

For now, I will leave you with this link to a great blog on upcycling dresses. I've seen this blog before, but it was featured on Yahoo News today and it refreshed my memory.

Can't wait to post pictures once we reach the END of this MONTH.

:)

p.s. please pray that the house works out.

Memoirs of a Geisha

I am so excited to tell today's story.

It is a perfect example of the reason I started this blog in the first place.

I have enjoyed my mom's piece for several years now, but never before did I know how much history it really has. Sit back, and enjoy- this one is gooood.

This piece, which my mom calls, The Geisha, sits in our little dining room.

It hung in my mom's dining room/hallway for my entire childhood, I think.

Then, when she repainted her walls, she gave it to me.

I visited my mom last Sunday for dinner and asked her to tell me the story about it.

My mom designed this piece in the mid-late 70's from a design she saw in a McCall's Needlework magazine. The entire piece is stitched using silk threads. It was originally intended to be hung in a master bedroom of a custom house up in the mountains. It would have been spectacular... adjacent to a beautiful mountain view. But, it turns out, my mom didn't live there.

This piece was an excellent vehicle for a class on techniques with silk, and so my mom offered it at the Needleworker boutique in Cherry Creek North. It would be a six week class, meeting once each week in the evenings.

One of the shop regulars at the Needleworker was a man named Walt. Walt was a really nice guy, known for being a great customer and an excellent stitcher. Walt really wanted to enroll in the class, but his partner, Mr. James, was distraught: they didn't often spend evenings apart. Now, Mr. James had no experience whatsoever, and should not have enrolled in the class. But, Walt assured the Needleworker staff that he would be completely responsible for helping Mr. James with whatever he needed during the class.

The first night of the class, Walt and his partner, Mr. James arrived. Mr. James owned a beauty salon in Denver, and perhaps that is why he showed up... in drag. Maybe you've never seen my mom handle a change of plans, but she is always as cool as a cucumber. Even though I wasn't there, I bet she handled it really well. (I mean, let's face it. There are a lot of places you could expect to see a man in drag, but a needlepoint boutique in Cherry Creek North in the late 70s/early 80s is not necessarily that place.) My mom went on with the class as usual, but neither she...nor the Geisha... were the center of attention anymore.

Mr. James was very frustrated by the class, as any beginner would be, and he did not handle his frustration well. He would start sweating when things became difficult, and it was all my mom could do to keep the class from dissolving. One evening, as things became particularly challenging, Mr. James leaned over, and sighed, "Waltie darling, I just can't do this!"

It was the fourth evening of class, and Walt and Mr. James never returned.

Later on that year (I think), my mom wrote an article for the National Embroiderer's Teachers Association. She titled it, "Needlework Can Be a Drag." It was an article all about dealing with problematic situations as a workshop teacher. Over the years since, I have heard a lot of my mom's stories about students who are in over their heads. I think what frustrates her the most is having to make the decision to assist one student over the others or leave that person hanging.

Meanwhile, my mom entered The Geisha in an ANG national exhibit in 1980. She took First Place and her first ever Judge's Choice award. (She scanned and sent me a picture of her ribbon when I told her I'd be writing about this piece... so cute!)

Because of these accolades, she attended the first Invitational Exhibit offered by Princess Grace of Monaco in 1982. The American Needlepoint Guild, which began in 1970, held its first convention in 1972 and its first trip to Monaco in 1973. ANG hosted trips to Monaco nearly every year after that. To my understanding, the exhibit took place in the spring of that year.

That following September, Grace Kelly died in a car accident.

This picture is absolutely one of my favorite pictures in my mom's house. It turns out it was taken by the palace photographer and sent to my mom later on. How perfect is that- this moment needed to be frozen in time. Now that I know the story, I think I'm going to see if I can get a professional-quality copy of this picture and frame it next to the Geisha.

weaving deeper meaning into tapestries

five years ago, i went to turkey on a tour of biblical sites.

one day, we visited a turkish carpet school.

we were led all through the compound, told all about the carpet-making process.

basketfuls of silk cocoons rested until they were made into strands of silk.

near a giant spinning wheel, an array of hand-dyed wool waited to be used in one carpet or another. the richness and variety of colors amazed me.

above the weavers, specific colors used in their carpets hung in queue for their moment in the pattern.

in this open air 'studio', weavers quietly focused on their pieces. i was intrigued by the color, texture, and fine craftsmanship i witnessed as the guide explained the traditional designs the girls were following. this was a place for them to master various regional patterns known throughout turkey. who would have given so much thought to the rug beneath your feet?

as i watched, i noticed that each girl had a picture of the carpet she was making above her loom. this showed the rug in its completed design. this part amazed me the most: to glance at the picture and then downward at the work-in-progress. without the design above, it was nearly impossible to see where the weaver was going with her pattern.

at the time, i was so enthralled with the whole atmosphere, i didn't have time to think any deeper. but sometime later- maybe on the ride across the countryside, maybe back at home reviewing the pictures- i realized that there was a much, much deeper lesson about these carpets.

i don't have a picture of this one weaver's loom to share, but while i was there, i noticed one girl working on a carpet all in blacks and beiges. it was beautiful. but she had added a few rows of blood red that looked completely out of place. it practically ruined the entire 'look' of the rug. however, studying her pattern, it became obvious: red was the signature color of the carpet; it was the most integral part of the design. she had simply been working on the border that would 'hold' it all together.

isn't that a lot like life?

we're going along, thinking everything is going according 'to plan.' we have everything neatened up, the way we want it to go, and (more importantly) the way it's always been.

then, all of a sudden, something comes and messes the whole thing up.

sure- we try to go against the pattern. and it hurts- (it's no mistake these patterns are secured with double knots- especially the really good carpets- the knots are the tell-tale sign of quality.) without something really holding fast, it just looks like a good design- the beauty needs to be backed up with solid construction. so, we bend to this new direction, and soon become adjusted to the 'new' way of being.

it's only in hindsight that we can see how it all works together. how on the backside of the tapestry, all parts are woven into one. how there is a master plan that intended all those colors; in fact, they were all lining up in wait, ready to be incorporated together.

perhaps because it was 'blood red', i especially related this analogy to tragedy. the way tragedy transforms us, how it makes us who we are. and, how in tragedy, we cling to truth and peace and love- just like the knots cling to the grounding of the loom's fibers.

there is a master plan- there is a master weaver- and there is beauty in the design.

look at the turkish carpets throughout this post, and imagine them as a 'life.'

the borders of childhood and old age.

the busy-ness of the middle of life.

the transitions from childhood to adulthood (how stretching! how changing!)

and i can only guess it is the same from adulthood to old age.

and the beauty- of all those colors working together to make one unified design.

"That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. God knew what he was doing from the very beginning."

(Romans 8:28-29, The Message)

wine bottle lamp

today's post shares a work in progress.

so excited for this one.

(and lots of pictures to show.)

it starts on the night marc and i got engaged.

marc used to live with his friend niles in boulder.

the night marc proposed (unbeknownst to me), niles suggested we all go to carelli's, a great italian restaurant near williams village in boulder. really?! yep- it's great inside.

while we were there, we ordered yummy food and a bottle of wine. almost the entire area of the restaurant we were in hosted a long banquet table for a party. halfway through our dinner, we realized- it was a couple's 50th wedding anniversary party. so cute- they even had a cake that they cut 'wedding style' (you know, both hands on the cutting knife!)

after dinner, we took niles back home and went up flagstaff mountain. we wanted a bench, but on a warm may evening, we figured they'd be all taken. they weren't! ours was perfect.

marc asked me to marry him.

of course i said...

"no way! are you serious?! no way! really?!"

...."yes"

hey- we all think we're gonna be sappy

but i've talked to more girls who say they can't believe it is really happening! :)

from there, you know the rest- engagement, wedding, etc.

or so i thought.

the night of our rehearsal dinner, niles stood up and said he had a present.

but first, some background....

i've been friends with a couple for about twenty years, nate and diane. i've babysat their children, watched their dog, but mostly shared life with them. sitting on various tables throughout the years has been a lamp with a wine bottle for a base. (wish i had a picture of it.) one day diane told me the story- it was the bottle from the night they got engaged. diane's mother had it made into a lamp. i remember thinking how romantic and sentimental- and interesting- a lamp it was.

i had asked nate to walk me down the aisle. here we are:

nate and diane hosted a small engagement party for us before the wedding. during the party, we all played guitar hero downstairs near where the lamp sits. i told niles the story, just thinking it was such a great story.

here's where the whole story fits together.

the night of our engagement, niles didn't stay home after we left. he drove back to the restaurant and asked for the wine bottle we had used. the staff remembered him and retrieved the bottle. niles kept it, not knowing what he would do with it. months later at nate and diane's, he realized that i really loved the idea behind their lamp. so he bought a lamp kit and a glass drill bit. he DRILLED a HOLE into the wine bottle (figuring if it shattered, we would never know!) of course, it worked.

so, the night before our wedding, we received our engagement wine bottle lamp.

i just love this lamp. i love that so much love goes into it. nate and diane have been married for over twenty years, and the idea started with them. (more romance: they shared another bottle of the same wine on their wedding night, and a third bottle on their ten year anniversary, and the vintage is the year diane was born.) while we drank the wine, a couple one table over celebrated their fiftieth anniversary with all of their children in attendance with grandchildren running around, giggling. niles is such a great friend and his thoughtfulness warms my heart. and mostly, this reminds me of that feeling of pure joy i had knowing i was marrying marc.

when niles gave us the lamp, it had a *super* small shade on it. the one that is on there now is better, but not what i want for good. i'm on the hunt and just cannot find the one i want. i also want to take the lamp to a professional electrician and have a base attached with a gold cord. so someday when that all comes together i will post another picture. but for now, it lights up our little dining room and we love the character and memento it holds.

nate and diane get all the credit for this post, with niles being so tricky and wonderful to get the wine bottle and make it all happen. diane also told me to go back to all the places from our engagement night and take pictures so we would always remember. of course we didn't take pictures on the real night, cause i would have known what was goin' on!

one year later, to the day: may 16, 2009, we recreated our engagement night.