Made by Wooni

Burnt to a crisp

It is amazing how when you reach a low point you are able to have some clarity and see where you wanted to go. Well, I was laying on the seabed and right there in front of me I found a box full of old memories. It was a box full of words, papers, pens, books, paint brushes, pencils, erasers. It was a box full of my adolescent dreams of being a writer and artist. I am back on my original path. I still seem to have one firm foot on the soft seabed. And every now and then my foot seems to sink a bit deeper. However, my other foot is lifted in the air, pointing to the surface as a promise to return to the fresh sea air that will once again regenerate my soul. 

So I have, as usual, returned to the empty page and filled it with scratches and scribbles and doodles. 

Some silly

Some hopeful

Some for the moment.

It is a wonder how much it helps to draw and paint, especially with watercolors. 

The rise and fall of superme

Yesterday was an amazingly productive tiring day. I did it all. I cleaned. I entertained. I cooked. I baked. I was feeling pretty good up until 6 pm when I realized I had missed my afternoon expresso and boy did I miss it. But I contiued on. I fed the littles, bathed the littles, read to the litlles and put them to bed. And by the time the mister came home my super powers were dwindling. 

I presented him with spinach cannellonis and Rhubarb cake as we settled down to watch the German version of Cops....don't jugde. I didn't pick it. And as a drunken man informed the police he wanted to travel to Hawaii by train I drifted into sweet slumber. 

I thought of how wonderfully charged I would be the next day. How productive I was going to be. I was finally going to organize the piles of clutter we have scattered and hidden throughout the house. By 11 that dream was gone. Little Sarah woke up. I soothed her back to sleep. Then again at 2, 3, 4. At 5:30 the mister's alarm when off and mine an hour later. I was the complete opposite of the superme. I was clumbsy, zombified, and caffeine had no affect. 

So I went for the second best thing, fabric and music. I continue on with my study of little houses. These are mug mats. I have something of an obsession with mugs, and anything coffee related. And the idea of being able to create a little scene of tranquility while a nice warm delicious cup of something rests ontop of it makes me smile. 

One is a happy little house, a representation of spring, enjoying the outdoors, and color. 

The second is a little house on th edge, greeted by the enormous sun and the sweet salty breeze of the ocean. How I miss the ocean. 

In my own

Maybe some of you noticed my lack of posts. The reason being we were off wandering through the mysterious and fantastical black forest. It was a time spent with Oma and Opa and the Mister was finally able to enjoy the sun live and direct instead of trapped within the confines of his office. It is Easter and The Black forest was beautifully colored. The dark pines would sometimes let streaming beams of sunshine and allow our wandering eyes to look into the realm of fairy tales. 

And since I have uneasy hands that always need to be doings something I began Lucy's blooming cushion. It was entertaining, but as I looped and pulled I kept on thinking about little houses, crooked little houses, in rows, stuffed, hanging on doors, multicolored, stitched, a presence of being and happiness. 

So off I went to my beloved fabric store and found colors and patterns; all with houses in mind. 

 

 

Glorious play

Today I decided to let the dishes sit in the dish washer a little longer, the laundry wait to be hung, and the vacuum to be silent. There are more urgent things at the present moment.

Shifting, grazing, burrowing into fibers. I am time travelling and listening to each scrap. They talk about long winters, speechless merchants, crooked yellow houses, un spoken truths, hidden dreams. They are buzzing like the sleepy bugs that are swarming outside. I am recharged as I untangle my beloved scraps. 

And as always through the mess comes a foundation. Stepping stones leading up a pathway to home. My own place. My little crooked house. 

And I continue on, grabbing, returning, looking, placing, removing; until something else feels right and fits.

I am safe here, engulfed by warmth. I am home. 

on my mind

As I was wandering around, looking at colorful illustratuins, and pictures I kept on clicking and searching for houses and trees. So I sat down and began doodling and out appeared our little crooked house that even though it is small and unfinished it has grown on me. It has changed my world. It stands out from the others because it is mine. My own place on this earth that I can do what I want with it and in it. I haven't had that until now. When I was a child I had to obey my grandparents rules, then the dorm rules, then the landlor's rules. It is very limiting to not be able to express who you are.  

As I continued down the page the mountain turned into a head. Two closed eyes pondered about the importance of a place of truth. I am myself here. I can sing, dance, draw and put up on the walls withouth being judged. I am finally free and for someone that has always been shy about their abilities it is wonderful to finally be able to lay myself out in the light without having to hide it in bags or whispers. 

 

Returning

I have returned to cloth. I have had enough of the relaxing effects of crochet. They have done me a world of good. However, I have realized there is an adverse affect. My mind becomes dormant. I stop being that questioning, imaginative person that I love being. The cloth, on the other hand makes me search, question, wander, and some times loose my sense of reality. 

It is when I get lost within the fibers that I thrive. 

So after a few slices of my banana almond bread smeared with nutella and the obligatory coffee, I went upstairs to my space.

Straightened things up after a messy weekend. And looked for my forgetten self. Bits an pieces were hidding underneath bags and dust. And among them I found my first large cloth, Monster City. Something I never got around finishing . Now that I looked at it again, with a different mind set all I can see is anger, and fear. I could not continue with it. 

I took it apart. There were still pieces that I can use later. And the girl, well, how could I get rid of her. She is a reminder of my battle, that dark period. She needs some light and ease after such a struggle. 

So I sit here, surrounded by cloth and it feels so good. I feel eager to see what can come out of my happiness.

Bon iver - skinny love

 

back and forth we grow

I have always been one that writes with music, and depending on the music my writing changes. However, I usually find myself listening to instrumental, folk, or smooth songs. It is a guitly pleasure of mine to wander around youtube looking for accustic versions or even covers of songs. There is so much undiscoerved talen out there and I think it is wonderful that creative people have outlets like youtube, flickr, and blogs where I and others can discover such wonderful inspiration. I personally believe creativity thrives on a back and forth process. You see something wonderful, and try to make it your own, thus making it different. Then someone else sees it and makes it their own, changing what they want to change, adding their style. I believe without feedback and inspiration from others, we can become stagnant. 

So, as I was wandering I found this beautiful voice. Her name is Meghan Tonjes. I believe she became wellknown on youtube for her tuesday resquests, where she covers mainstream songs. She has been on Ellen  and now has her own cd out. It is a wonderful story really. 

Simply The Best by Tina Turner (REQUEST TUESDAY- Meghan Tonjes Cover)

I have been feeling better this morning and have returned to my studio window. I have completed one cushion cover, and have three more to go. However, my supply of blues is dwindling and I must venture off to the great Hela store. This journey would be quite a long one without a car, and therefore my darling grannies muct wait until the mister can lend me the four wheeled wonder. So I have been playing around with my other colors. At the moment I intend on making a variation of this.

And here is a quick update on the colorful poncho.

Here is what I am listening at the moment.

White Blank Page (Bookshop Acoustic Session)

Soft colorful Grey

I have been persistently fighting off the remainder of winter by crocheting with as much color as possible. The weather has been flipflopping between cool grey to sunny and pleasant. I can feel Spring is approaching, but still winter has its hold, and it is holding on tightly. 

Yesterday, was still an inside day. The littles have that winter cough and the sniffles, so as Sarah rolled around in her play pen, Basti and I created a colorful Spring wreath. He prefered to run around with the ribbon than to wrap it around the wreath. 

But after some convincing I was allowed to use his cat tail, as he called it, for my absurd purpose. It finally filled that very empty wall we have in the Kitchen. Our walls are still so bare, and I just want to cover them all up. I hate bare walls. It probably comes from back when I used to live with my grandparents I was never allowed to decorate the room. The only thing allowed on the wall was the painting of the virgin mary or the cross. Once I dared put a poster of something next to it, and my grandmother had a fit. How dare I put something at the same level as the Virigin Mary. ..Ay Abuelita...

I have been crocheting like a mad woman. My fingers can not catch up with my desire. I am still working on the last couple rounds of the poncho. I have made, so far a scarf with the Japanese flower motif. It could turn into somehting else... I am also making a shawl, and there are other things on my list of things to make...Oh how I love this passion. It is so soothing. 

At the moment I am listening to this.

Imany Take Care

 

Hovering

With spring appearing I have the urge to decorate our little crooked house with reminders of spring; a bird here, a flower there and even a little lavender egg. The bird is from one of my favorite Crochet blogs, Attic24. Lucy has some wonderful designs and always full of color. 

Even though we are in March, and last week we had lovely warm weather, the sky is once again grey and dreary, and the sniffles have returned. It is now week six of being sick. I have forgotten what if feels like to not have to blow your nose or swallow without pain....grrrr

Nevertheless we were able to enjoy the nice weather by going down into the Black Forest.

It was nice to return as a visitor. The skies were blue. The bread was fresh, warm and soft. But more on that when I do not have a skirming crying 7 month old on my lap. 

Sugar and wool

It has been a busy couple of days celebrating. On Friday, the little ones and I, were off to Mannheim, where the mister works, to venture off and find a gift for him. The streets were lightly scattered with housewives, strollers and a few early-dayers. But since I have not been to the city in quite a while, I had forgotten what it felt like to be part of a moving mass of people, the chaotic feeling of having to keep u and the elasticity to bend between passerbyers. It was wonderful, and tiring at the same time.

You see in order to get there The littles and I had to take the train from our little village. Basti walked nice and held my hand as I pusehd the stroller. We arrived with plently of time to the ticket machine. I entered our destination, clicked to pay and with ease pulled out my 20 Euro bill and saw as it returned to me. I straightened it and placed it back it. And back it came, and back it went. This went on for about four more times until I saw the picture of a ten and five Euro bill...

I began to look for coins and fell short. Of course I had to return to the house. So off we went running back, Basti screaming the whole time "stop!" "slower" and me trying to convince to continue a bit futher. Either way we made it and all went smoothly.

The weekend was nice. The neighbors came over and drank coffee and ate cake. The children played and all was peaceful. 

I even was allowed to crochet a bit my colorful poncho.

Soon, very soon I will be able to wear my colorful poncho and be engulfed by its happiness and cheer.