Tim.

This is Tim. I'm not certain what sort of creature he is, but he has tadpole-esque qualities. Made from a couple recycled sweaters.

CRAFT Magazine.

I was lucky enough to get an advance copy of CRAFT magazine - and it's pretty awesome. Given, I also typed up most of this post, forgot about it for a couple months, and now the magazine is on shelves at every bookstore worth your time, so go read it.

CRAFT is by the same folks who gave us MAKE Magazine, and while MAKE still satisfies my tinkering compulsions more, CRAFT acknowledges my inherent need for some sort of non Martha artistic domesticity. My favourite project in this issue is the electric tank top - a tank top with programmable LED's. Other spiffy projects include an underwear wallet and an embroidered skateboard. Like MAKE, the best thing about CRAFT is that while it provides detailed instructions on how to recreate their projects, the ideas behind them are inherently interesting and novel enough to teach the ingenious crafter a bunch of easily adaptable ideas.

So, yes. CRAFT rocks. Check out their website for a bunch of craft related news and exclusive projects!

Estella!

Estella is the bear that I created for the Morphe II show in Australia! It was put on by the very awesome Carly of Nest Studio who makes very charming stuffed toys with some of the most delectable fabric I've ever seen.

Estella is made from felted cashmere and really likes gelato.







Estella was sold at the show, but you can buy some of the other Morphe II toys at Carly's Morphe store!

In non-bear related news, here's are a couple picture of my most recent scenic design. It's for a show called The Cannibals. It was definitely a change from things like...making bears!




I always find it interesting to see art in other mediums from artists that are generally known for working with fabric. It is always fascinating to me to see how much or how little of their fabric sculpture aesthetic passes through.

heart cards!

I sent in 25 of my heart cards to the October Sampler!



If you're a lucky subscriber or fellow contributor, you might get one! Otherwise, you can just buy them from me.=)

Winter is coming. I know it just transitioned to fall, but winter is always close on its heels.

I like winter. Winter brings shorter days, and I always spend more time thinking, because night always inspires such.

I hope that with this coming winter, I retain the courage to make the changes in my life that I desperately want to make.

I hope to sleep in occasionally. Under a pile of warm blankets.

I hope to have a couple hours in the evening to read on my couch with a mug of hot apple cider.

I hope to be forgiven.

I hope to be older, and mostly wiser.

I hope that I will not disappoint you. And you. And you.

I hope that you will not be angry at me.

I hope that I find really cute flat shoes.

I hope that you will learn to see me as a person.

I hope to get through this stack of half read books.

I hope to finish this project-in-limbo.And this one. And this one.

I hope that you will always be my friend.

I hope that I will resolve this. You know, this.

I hope to look certain failure in the eye and march towards it with a measure of heroic futility.

I live in California. It is always a faux-winter. Still, some things are worth hoping for.

craftypod, yay!

If you've ever wanted to listen to me ramble on about my bears and the difference between art and craft, my interview with the awesome Diane as part of the Craftypreneur series on Craftypod is up!

Check it out!

I had such a fun time talking with Diane and she edited out most of the dumb things I said!

this is a little bit about steve irwin and a little more about my grandmother.

I'm going to preface this by saying that this post, while going to be mostly about my grandmother, was very much prompted by the recent demise of Steve Irwin. I thought Steve Irwin would live forever. And a stingray! A stingray. This was a man who wrestled with crocodiles, and he was killed by a stingray.

One of the things I've been hearing people say the most in regards to that is "At least he died doing what he loved". Screw that. I don't want to die doing what I love. I love my job too, but I sure as hell don't want to die in any of the imaginary scenarios that I just concocted in my head. I'd rather die old and senile and a burden to the people I love at age 90, than die in a freak paint frame accident at 24.

Anyway, thinking about Steve Irwin made me think of my grandmother, who was wonderful woman who died before anyone thought she would. She was past the age of 80, sure, but she was so vibrant, and beautiful that I didn't even think she was old, and certainly not likely to die. Danila assigned us this project to create an art piece about my grandmother, and I started working on it today. It's not evolving the way I want it too. It's still a little repressed, but it's the most I can manage for now. It's a vague representation of a baby blanket, sewn in a deconstructed crazy quilt style. It has paper cranes sewn into it.

My grandmother taught me how to make paper cranes. I think I could fold a paper crane before I learned how to read. Knitting, tea and certain people calm me, but the first thing I inevitably do if I'm stressed out and there's paper around is fold a paper crane. It's almost subconscious. I fold them when I'm not stressed too.

My grandmother was a very traditional woman. She believed that I should learn how to sew, and crochet and cook(I learned two of the three - I can't crochet). She believed that there were just certain things that a girl should learn, such as how to address her elders properly, how to behave in the presence of men, and how to be...well, a good chinese woman. At the same time, she never believed that a woman's place was in the kitchen or in any way subservient to men. Her relationship with my grandfather was undeniably equal. I think that if she were still alive, she would be the only one out of my extended family who would be happy for me and what I'm choosing to do with my life. She probably wouldn't give me crap for not dating good chinese boys either, and certainly not for not marrying them by now.

She never stopped my parents from punishing me. She would watch quietly, as they administered the cane, and then when she felt it was enough, she would pull them aside quietly, without drama or hysterics, and merely say "that should be enough". She stayed with us a lot when I was younger, but she never interfered with the way my mother chose to run her household, even if she didn't always agree.

She would insist that her mother was actually Japanese, although none of my other relatives believed it because of a long standing grudge against the Japanese. My mom believes it and I believe it. She was the least racist of them all.

She taught me how to sew, but she never insisted that I sew what everyone else thought I should. I made toys. Useless things. She let me. She taught me the rules that a woman should live by, and then whispered in my ear that rules were meant to be broken.

And she taught me how to make paper cranes. She taught me that something as ordinary and ephemeral as a receipt, or a chocolate wrapper or a scribbled on post-it note could become something else. Something sorta pretty. I've tried to figure out other origami things, but I keep on coming back to paper cranes. We can probably take it as a metaphor for the fact that the simplest, boring most humble objects can be always be transformed into something else, but I suppose what it really comes down to is that she taught me how to fold paper cranes and I still do it all the time and I really think that my grandmother was one of the most awesome women to have ever existed. But it didn't stop her from dying and I feel stupid for feeling angry about it. She died what - seven years ago? - and I'm still angry about it.